Boom Pop, Cool Beans!
Jeff Pepper of the wonderful 2719 Hyperion has started a new weblog to explore his interest in vintage pop culture of the non-Disney variety. Boom Pop! adheres closely to the 2719 Hyperion formula, which in this case is a good thing. It’s only ten days old and I already have it in my Bloglines feeds. Keep up the good work, Jeff!
The Decline and Fall of Playgirl
After announcing that it will go web-only in 2009, former Playgirl editor Colleen Kane offers a postmortem of the magazine. This was a fascinating read. Although I’ve only thumbed through one issue of Playgirl, I feel a bit sad that this particular era is ending. Click here for a sampling of centerfolds from the mag’s hairy ‘n permed heyday (NSFW, obviously).
Weekly Mishmash: July 27-August 2
Crap Shoot: The Documentary (2007). A constantly behatted midwestern guy and his buddy journey to Hollywood and Las Vegas to find out just why current movies are so awful. Speaking of awful … director/writer Kenneth Close obviously fancies himself a Michael Moore type, but the guy has zero charisma and his strained attempts at humor give me the hives. It has all the style and panache of homemade camcorder footage from the ’80s, and furthermore I’m convinced that all the rave reviews this thing got on IMDb were penned by Close and/or his friends. Yuck!
Pete’s Dragon (1977). One of those movies that I loved as a kid. From an adult perspective, I’d say the movie is deeply flawed — but worth watching just to check out what the Disney studio was cranking out during its most anachronistic period. First off, it’s too long and suffers from many dull spots (usually when the dragon, Elliot, isn’t around). Though nicely animated by Don Bluth, the character of Elliot is a bit of a cypher. The cast hams it up like crazy, and young Sean Marshall as Pete is about as generic a little kid as ever headlined a big budget musical. It goes against logic that non-actor Helen Reddy as the lightkeeper Flora delivers the most subtle and nuanced performance. Al Kasha and Joel Hirschhorn’s songs are a delight, and I’m surprised at how well I remember many of them — “The Happiest Home In These Hills,” “Boo Bop Bopbop Bop (I Love You, Too),” “It’s Not Easy,” “Candle On The Water.” Perhaps Disney could do a tighter remake using the same score, updated with snazzy CGI effects. And don’t forget the “Win a trip to Disneyland” promotion …
A Private View — Irene Mayer Selznick. The 1983 biography of a woman best known for being daughter and wife to two of classic Hollywood’s most powerful moguls. Both Louis B. Mayer and David O. Selznick come across as sympathetic and stubbornly human men who influenced Irene’s life in countless ways. Irene is an excellent writer with a gift for observation and a pragmatic viewpoint, traits that especially shine in the earlier chapters of her book. Unlike many other bios where childhood memories make up the dullest parts, Irene shows herself to have been a remarkably poised and precocious little girl almost from birth. She’s a stark contrast to her vain and impetuous older sister, Edith (who is by far the least likable person in the book). After Irene divorced Selznick in the ’40s, she went on to forge a thriving career in the New York theatre scene as producer of A Streetcar Named Desire and several other plays. It’s a fitting coda to an uplifting book.
Romance on the High Seas (1948). Doris Day’s first movie is a lively Technicolor musical filled with excellent swing music, gay misadventures, and some truly gorgeous costumes and sets. Fluff, to be sure, but this is the best fluff there is! Seeing it makes me realize that Warner Bros. could often outdo MGM in the musicals department. While MGM’s stuff reveled in schmaltz, Warners piled on the panache with a distinctly modern sensibility. The ace supporting cast includes Jack Carson (great comic timing), Janis Paige (what a dish), and S.Z. Sakall (best jowls in classic moviedom).
Salesman (1968). The one DVD that I’ve been pestering Netflix to carry since 2001 recently became available to rent — finally! This documentary by Albert and David Maysles focuses on a group of door-to-door bible salesman as they struggle to meet sales quotas. Some find the Maysles’ straightforward style boring, but I found the entire film enthralling and very evocative of ’60s America and its dashed hopes. We see the salesmen as they work snowy Boston streets and dingy Florida suburbs with desperate zeal. Most of the would-be customers are families who are barely getting by, captured with the resigned sadness of a Diane Arbus photograph. The main salesman the filmmakers follow, an older guy with a vacant stare, reminded me of Jack Lemmon in Glengary Glenn Ross (or better yet, Gil from The Simpsons). Worth the wait for sure.
Book Review: Designer’s Toolkit — 1000 Colors
Every graphic designer (every print designer, anyhow) knows that one of the chief hazards of the job lies in the fact that colors rarely look the same on computer screens as they do in print. Unless you own a super-expensive set of Pantone books or only work in black and white, selecting the right colors is always something of a crapshoot. Graham Davis aims to remedy that situation with his book, The Designer’s Toolkit: 1000 Colors.
Small graphic arrangements of colors make up the bulk of this book. That’s it — simple and effective. On each page, a rudimentary design or pattern is rendered in twelve different colors. These color groupings are repeated in different color arrangements, twelve to a page, organized under cutesy headings like “Yummy Apple.” Most importantly, all colors are reproduced at the bottom of each page with their corresponding RGB, CMYK or Hexidecimal values. Some color groupings are also displayed in faux magazine spreads to illustrate how to effectively use color with text and photography. A CD-ROM embedded in the book’s cover contains all colors in TIFF format for easy reference. The material’s clean design and organization is impressive. Most of the color arrangements convey a bright, cheery mood — which might be a liability if you’re looking for something dark and/or subtle.
I’ve had this book for a couple of months now, using it on some book cover layouts with pleasing results. The very first color I selected was a sumptuous teal blue. When I entered the values, however, the color came out more like an olive green with way too much yellow (a misprint perhaps?). Despite that glitch, the book’s been beyond useful. In addition to the three or four book covers, I also utilized bits of a color scheme called “Deco Artifice” for my Twitter page. It’s true — seeing colors in print with their CMYK numbers right there takes a lot of the guesswork out of designing stuff.
The Designer’s Toolkit: 1000 Colors is published by Chronicle. Buy at Amazon.com here.
California Girl
Swindle magazine interviews L.A.-based artist Amanda Visell (via the wonderful Grain Edit). Looking around Amanda’s website, I’d say she has the “twisted ’50s animation study” look down pat. Lovely, lovely work. I would so love to have a framed print of this one in my bedroom:
Blue Ribbon Release
Jerry Beck reveals the special features included on the sixth and final Looney Tunes Golden Collection DVD set (via Something Old, Nothing New). While it’s sad that this will be the last set, I can understand the reasoning behind it. Warner Home Video still plans to release restored vintage WB cartoons on DVD for the foreseeable future — only in smaller and more economical packages. As these sets went along, they delved into more obscure and interesting territory. Which in my opinion is fantastic. I’m especially looking forward to the WWII- and Bosko-centric discs (I can’t possibly be the only Bosko fan out there?).
With a Smile and a Song
C. alerted me to the death of Harriet Burns, the first female imagineer hired at Disney. I think I saw her in a few old Wonderful World of Color TV specials, but didn’t know who she was. What a fascinating woman, one who made important contributions to Disneyland at its peak.
Twittering Our Lives Away
I’m on Twitter now. I know. This seems like one of those trendy social networking sites that everybody flocks to, then abandons after a year or two — but it’s actually pretty fun. Since I don’t own a mobile, I’ll end up using it to post little observational bits that are too short to make it as a Scrubbles entry. Thanks to Bob for the heads-up.
Weekly Mishmash: July 20-26
Today I want to give a shout out and a happy birthday to Christopher, the youngest 49 year-old I’ve ever known. Briefly incapacitated by a bug, the mishmash pickin’s are on the slim side this week. Here we go …
The Black Book (1949). Loquacious one Vince Keenan raved about this gothic thriller on his blog, so I recorded the recent TCM showing and gave it a looksie last Monday in between some nasty dry heaves. Originally titled Reign of Terror, this is a nifty example of applying noir atmosphere to a historical subject — in this case, events leading up to the French Revolution. While it certainly looks like a low budget film and takes a while to get moving, director Anthony Mann does wonders with the material and created some truly suspenseful scenes bathed in gorgeous shadows. An edgy and effective Robert Cummings (whom I normally can’t stand) heads up the eccentric and well-chosen cast. This is one of those weird public domain films which only shows up in muddy looking prints; Criterion really oughta look into doing a sparkling DVD reissue.
Memories of Murder (2003). A grisly and overlong film based on the real-life case of the first documented serial killer in Korea. The intriguing story could have made for a good, tense 90 minute film, but at two-plus hours it felt stretched to the limit. Seeing the brutality of the Korean police was an eye-opener, but the fact that every single character had a short fuse got annoying very quickly. I enjoyed the pudgy lead actor, and some genuinely creepy moments come through, but overall this was a disappointment.
Quinceñara (2006). Despite having zero interest in the blossoming ceremonial rituals of latino teen girls, I put this on the Netflix queue due to the great reviews it got. What a nice surprise it turned out to be. The quinceñara (a fancy party given for hispanic girls when they turn 15) forms the bookends for this story of a girl who finds herself pregnant and outcast by her preacher dad. Desperate, she turns to her eccentric great uncle and cousin and the three form their own offbeat familia. This was a charmingly scripted, perceptive film which paints a vivid portrait of a changing subculture in Los Angeles’ Echo Park. I especially liked the subplot with the cousin and his covert fascination with the gay yuppie couple who purchased the home they’re renting from. How often does a film deal realistically with latino life, much less gay latino life?
WALL•E (2008). What does it take to get two confirmed homebodies out to the cinema? One word: Pixar. We finally saw this on Friday, and I concur with all the critics who have been slobbering over themselves. It’s a beautiful and unique achievement that stands among Toy Story and The Incredibles in the Pixar pantheon. Only debit: once Wall-E and Eve leave earth and enter the space station, a bit of specialness is lost.
Bunnies, Comic #13
New Two Bunnies and a Duck posted today. I love coming up with gags for the comic, but I have to admit that the drawing, scanning and coloring is very tedious. I’m not skilled enough to make the characters look at all consistent (this week they look a bit elongated) — a redesign might be in order.
Unidentified Persons Bureau
Locally speaking, last week’s Phoenix New Times had an interesting story on the Maricopa County Medical Examiners Office and one woman’s efforts to get an unidentified body database going on the county’s website. Apparently Maricopa is one of the few counties in the U.S. to have one of these features online, and it has resulted in many solved missing person cases.
World of Tomorrow
A couple of decades ago, I remember seeing a cool documentary on the 1939 New York World’s Fair on PBS. It was narrated by an old guy looking back upon a special family trip to the Fair as a child. In the end, the man concludes that the Fair symbolized the mixture of optimism and apprehension going on in the world as it was in 1939. It was a fascinating film, filled with clips from beautiful color home movies, newsreels, and campy industrial films.
I didn’t think I’d ever see that movie again, but now — thanks to an Amazon.com gift certificate from my friend Joy — I was able to track down the DVD. Directed by Lance Bird and Tom Johnson in 1984, The World of Tomorrow features the great voice of actor Jason Robards narrating. Although the DVD is pricey and bare bones (lacking even a basic menu!), it was a blast revisiting this film and learning about the herculean efforts to get the thing started in the first place. Gleaming pavilions tout the future’s promise, only somewhat coming off like arrogant statements of power by corporate sponsors like G.E., Ford and Sealtest. Foreign countries take the opportunity to show off their uniqueness, only to find that their homeland has undergone Nazi occupation. Once the fanfare of the gala opening subsides, organizers found that the tacky, carnival-like addition in the rear proved the most popular area with guests. In the Fair’s second and final season, the showman-like lead man is replaced with a dull banker and the Fair takes on a more approachable image. Pretty soon, the World of Tomorrow became yesterday’s memories.
Although seeing the vintage footage from the Fair was a unique treat back in the ’80s, it now occurs to me that much of it can be viewed for free at Archive.org:
- The Middleton Family at the New York World’s Fair — Westinghouse industrial film showing a “typical” family at the fair, basically hanging out in the (surprise) Westinghouse pavilion.
- Amateur Film: Medicus collection New York World’s Fair, Reel 1 Part I — six plus hours of color home movie footage. I can’t definitively tell if this is the same material used in the doc, but most likely it is.
- All’s Fair At The Fair — The documentary filmmakers also used a lot of footage from the Max Fleischer Color Classic cartoon.
Weekly Mishmash: July 13-19
Craig’s Wife (1936). I’ve been wanting to see this Dorothy Arzner directed melodrama for years now, and was delighted when it turned up recently on the TCM schedule as part of their Rosalind Russell film fest. Mostly I was interested in seeing how it compared to the 1950 remake with Joan Crawford in the same role as the possessive Harriet Craig, a wealthy woman who alienates her family and servants with her smothering perfectionism. Both are hugely entertaining, biting commentaries; not exactly the most feminist premise ever, but Russell and Crawford both skillfully interpret the role with distictiveness. I read someone on the TCM boards comparing Crawford with a lion (shredding her enemies with gusto), while Russell approaches Harriet in the subtle manner of a python (slowly strangling her victims to death). Craig’s Wife’s plot seems rushed, as if everything happened in a day or two. With that in mind, I’d give Harriet a slight edge (the remake also replaces an implausibly random murder subplot with a better one in which Harriet sabotages her husband’s promotion). Good fun.
The Citadel (1938). Russell again, as the dutiful wife of Robert Donat. This veddy British tale follows an idealistic young doctor as he progresses from poor miners to rich hypochondriacs, losing a bit of his soul in the process. It’s a bit too pokey and episodic, but I enjoyed the lead performers. Donat ages realistically as his character goes from idealistic 20s to world-weary 30s (Russell, of course, looks exactly the same). Although not as transforming, it’s similar to what he goes through in Goodbye, Mr. Chips.
Little Children (2006). Kate Winslet as a desperate housewife — pretty brilliant. The film portrayed an insular little world with frightening accuracy, I thought. American suburbia is full of people, many contented with what they have but many others stuck up on petty nonsense and imposing their own morals on everyone else. Some viewers complained about the open-ended nature of the ending, but by that time the more observant among us know the characters of Sarah (Winslet) and Brad (Patrick Wilson) well enough to know how things would eventually pan out.
The Sorrow and the Pity (1969). Christopher rented this famed WWII documentary, which I’d previously known only as a punchline in Woody Allen’s Annie Hall. Supposedly it’s one of the best docs ever made, well worth enduring its four hour length — but we couldn’t get through it (embarrassed shrug). After 90 minutes, the endless b&w parade of middle-aged talking heads got to us. Should we have stuck it out?
Warning Shadows (1923). This early silent is much admired by fans of German Expressionist cinema — or masochists, depending on whom you ask. I’d side with the latter. Man oh man, this was one dreadful slog of a movie! From what little I could make out, the Napoleon-era plot revolves around a jealous husband who invites his flirty wife and her admirers to a lavish dinner, then entraps and tortures the party with shadow plays and lots of bug-eyed gestures. It’s certainly an unusual film, with no dialogue cards and a sporadically interesting usage of light and shadow — but it’s also really, really boring.
Eight Years of Scrubbles.net
Psst. I never notice these things until they’ve gone and went, but over the past week this very weblog has entered its ninth year of operation. Happy birthday to Scrubbles.net! To celebrate the occasion, I put on my best metaphorical party dress and cherry picked a few of my favorite vintage (don’t call them old!) posts.
Looking back, I’d venture to say that Scrubbles.net’s legacy (if there is one) might be that it was among the earliest of the “look at the crap I found” type weblogs. It’s always been my mission to write about whatever ephemera or pop culture catches my fancy, with a distinct lack of trendiness, and hoping what amuses me amuses others. Gotta admit that sometimes I come across popular, more thematically focused blogs and wish I had even half their traffic. But in the end I’d rather have a small, loyal audience than a large, fickle one. “Love me, love my quirks” is pretty much the dictum around here.
So sit down, grab a piece of cake, and savor the results of trolling the archives going all the way back to the beginning (note that the pre-2006 entries suffer from broken style sheets, outdated links, and a general look of krep). Behold, “Scrubbles.net: The Greatest Hits”:
09/11/01 — September 11th, 2001. A personal observation of what happened over the course of that day. For some reason, I could only process the horror of what I was feeling through the lens of pop culture.
09/27/01 — A floor-by-floor analysis of the break rooms at work. Quirky, navel gazing posts like this were unusual in 2001 but would become more common as the years went on.
06/13/02 — Introducing Discards. A cache of found slides becomes a little-known corner of the Scrubbles.net universe.
10/27/02 — On the groovy costumes in UFO.
01/28/03 — A rant against Frida Kahlo. Honestly, I forgot about this. Didn’t know I hated Frida Kahlo so much!
01/09/03 — Influential songs in my life.
06/26/03 — Recollections of ’80s Movies Filmed in Arizona.
10/31/03 — Seven Things That Frightened Me As A Child. Fun.
02/02/04 — A Yuppie Teakettle for Everyone. Musing on design for the masses.
04/22/05 — Illustrations of Charles Harper. Ladies and gents, the most visited page at Scrubbles.net. Had I known, I would have included more examples. Unfortunately, other weblogs still link to this page even as I’m coming up with newer, better stuff. Attention, Charles Harper fans: please read my new stuff. Please.
05/30/05 — Captured on Film. Screen shots and commentary on the glamorous Manhattan of The Best of Everything (1958).
06/02/05 — Wonderland in Chrome. An unassuming little post that got linked on Boing Boing and drove hundreds of curious clicks. Who knew?
07/10/05 — Off the Treadmill. On learning to enjoy a downsized life. I need to write a sequel to this one.
01/07/06 — Artistry In Motion. More Harper discoveries, given a nicer setting.
02/14/06 — Blogging Tips from a D-Lister. Somebody had to find that advice useful.
03/26/06 — White Lace and Promises. Ruminations on twenty different versions of “We’ve Only Just Begun.” May have been Scrubbles.net’s definitive “jump the shark” moment.
05/12/06 — The Exploding Plastic Inevitable. The first time embedded video was used on the weblog.
01/01/07 — Another Year of Couch Sitting. A self-pitying reflection on 2006, the year of lowered expectations. 2007 and the first half of 2008 followed right along in the same vein.
01/22/07 — What Makes a Making Of. I thought this was a nice post. I worked hard on it. It generated zero links or comments!
06/04/07 — Cheap Thrill: Joan Crawford on The Sixth Sense. This was fun; I have to do more “Cheap Thrill” posts.
01/21/08 — Cheap Thrill: Children’s Books 1957-69. Speaking of which. This might be the most real estate hogging Scrubbles post ever.
04/23/08 — WDW Day One: Epcot Future World. In which I bore my dwindling audience to tears with an exhaustive, five-part travelogue.
07/04/08 — Riverside, July 3.
It’s Called Poetic Justice
Futility Vehicle — faced with escalating gas prices, a New York Times blogger wonders why she bought a huge SUV in the first place. This is funny and sad, but mostly sad. It’s a bit nice that this lady is seeing outside her myopic little suburban bubble and finally understanding the greater consequences of the choices she makes. But it also underscores that just as people choose to own SUVs for primarily selfish reasons (I want to protect my family), they’re wanting to dump the vehicles for equally selfish reasons (I can’t pay through the nose for gas). And this woman represents millions of disillusioned drivers (sigh). At least I take comfort that she’s getting blasted in the comments by lots and lots of sane and reasonable people.
