Weekly Mishmash: August 24-30
Futurama: The Beast with a Billion Backs (2008). It pains me to say it, but this second direct-to-DVD Futurama movie is a big fat bore. What may have been a semi decent TV episode has been stretched into a feature-length slog, padded out with stupid Family Guy-style gags. Sure, I laughed a few times, but at this point Matt Groening and company really need to give the franchise a rest.
The Hidden Fortress (1958). I hate to sound redundant, but uh … this was also kind of tedious. Which makes me feel guilty since it’s vintage Akira Kurosawa and a big influence on George Lucas’ Star Wars script (although even Lucas himself admits it’s not his favorite Kurosawa). Interesting story, and one can obviously tell that Kurosawa is having a field day with the widescreen format, but the characters seemed cardboard-thin and it plods along with little variety in the landscape or tone. On the plus side, I did enjoy Toshiro Mifune (what an intense actor) and the birdlike woman who played the princess. Still, I’d take Rashomon or High and Low over this any day.
Scaramouche (1952). Plush, swashbuckling classic with luscious color and a youthfully attractive cast (yep, even in horrid stage makeup Eleanor Parker looks so lovely). What really counted here was the famous climactic sword battle — director George Sidney executes the long, long scene beautifully. It moves fluidly from a theatre balcony, though the side hallway, out to the lobby, through the audience, then up on stage — boggling the mind as to how many rehearsal hours Stewart Granger and José Mel Ferrer needed to execute it flawlessly.
Winchell (1998). Somebody needs to make a good flick about the notorious gossip columnist Walter Winchell. Although this made-for-HBO effort is fun and breezy, it doesn’t quite hit the mark. Stanley Tucci is appropriately smarmy in the title role, and Paul Giamatti is good as Winchell’s put-upon ghostwriter. Unfortunately director Paul Mazursky covers too much ground (some 60 years) and can’t resist using every cliché in the retro-biopic book, including the spinning newspaper headline. The spinning newspaper headline, people!
Youth of the Beast (1963). A dazzling, at times incomprehensible mob action flick from Japanese cult director Seijun Suzuki. Often I couldn’t keep track of what was going on, but the director’s lurid “film noir meets ’60s pulp” sensibility keeps things going at a breakneck pace. Very similar to Suzuki’s Tokyo Drifter, although I think I slightly prefer this one due to the magnetic and oddly chubby-cheeked leading actor Jo Shishido. Oh, and I have to mention the wonderful sets in this movie — the nightclub, the movie theater, and the geometric establishment pictured above with separate operator booth, neat sculpture, and bi-colored phones at each table. Groovy!
Library Club President
I don’t think I’ve giggled so hard as while browsing through Flickr’s Yearbook Yourself photo pool. On another note, I’m impressed with how the mall marketing aspect of Yearbook Yourself is integrated with the site (meaning it’s not nearly as obnoxious as it could’ve been). You can swap genders, too! Here’s how I would look as a Class of ‘54 girl with two-day stubble:
International Man of Mystery
Dig the insanely detailed Illustrated Guide to a Life of Mystery poster from the insanely talented illustrator/letterer Ray Fenwick. It’s only twelve bucks, so I might get one for my bedroom.
Big Fat Link Log 3
We’re nearing the end August. Do you know what that means? Sticky thighs and melting ice cream? Yeah, that — and it’s also time for an update to the annual list of the weblogs I’ve been reading. It just keeps growing and growing, which is another reason why I prefer to keep this thing on a single entry as opposed to taking up lots of room on a sidebar. The starred new additions are not exactly new (even for me), but they are some of the weblogs that have caught my eye over the past year or so. To them and all the other hard-working bloggers on this list, thank you.
2719 Hyperion | * A Child Of Atom | A Joshua Tree In Every Pot | A List Of Things Thrown Five Minutes Ago | A Sampler of Things | ASIFA-Hollywood Animation Archive Project Blog | A.V. Club Blogs | * The Avant Garde Retard | Awful Plastic Surgery | Back of the Cereal Box | Bibi’s Box | The Blackwing Diaries | Bill Crider’s Pop Culture Magazine | Boing Boing | Bob Sassone | Book Covers Blog | * The Book Design Review | Booksteve’s Library | * Boom Pop! | Bostworld | Bradlands Must See HTTP:// | Brand New | Branded in the ’80s | Cardhouse | Cartoon Brew | * Cartoon Curio | * Cinebeats | * clydefro | Coudal Partners | Crack Skull Bob | Davelandblog | Design Observer | Designing Magazines | * Discover A World Of Sounds | The Disney Blog | Disney History | Drawn! | Dynagirl | * e=mcbrennan | Ephemera | * Evan Dorkin | Eye of the Goof | Fanboy.com | * Fawny.org | Fimoculous | Folded Space | Friday Fishwrap | Gatotchy’s Blog | Ghost In The Machine | GlenMullaly.com – The BLOG!!! | gmtPlus9 | * Grain Edit | greg.org | Hacking NetFlix | Hit or Miss | The Hits Just Keep on Comin’ | i like | In Black And White | * Ironic Sans | Irregular Orbit | Jinjur | Just Ask Christopher | * Kevin Kidney | Kottke.org | Lady Bunny Blog | Lileks The Bleat | Little Yellow Different | Lots of Co. | Malls of America | * Mark Simonson | Martin Klasch | Mimi Smartypants | mod*mom | * My So-Called Strife | Neato Coolville | News From Me | * Nintendo Wii Fanboy | The Other Andrew | Other Stream | Passport to Dreams Old & New | Patrick’s Journal | PCL LinkDump | Pop Culture Gadabout | Pop Culture Junk Mail | * Pop Culture Petri Dish | Posterwire | Push. Click. Touch. | Quiddity | * Randomopolis | RaShOmoN | Re-Imagineering | Robot Action Boy | Robot Johnny | * Secret Fun Blog | Self-Styled Siren | Snarky Malarkey | Something Old, Nothing New | Sore Eyes | Swapatorium | * swissmiss | * tikiranch | things magazine | This Justin | Thrilling Days of Yesteryear | Tim Lucas Video WatchBlog | The Tin Man | Tiny Pineapple | Today’s Inspiration | Tom the Dog’s You Know What I Like? | Turbanhead.com | TV Guidance | * Ultra Swank | Ultrasparky | UnBeige | Veer: The Skinny | Vince Keenan | Ward-O-Matic | waxy.org | Web Goddess | WFMU’s Beware of the Blog | Wiley Wiggins | * The World Of Kane | x-entertainment.com | * Your Souvenir Guide
Weekly Mishmash: August 17-23
Crime of Passion (1957). This late-period Barbara Stanwyck melodrama looked like a tawdry treat when it popped up on her TCM Summer Under The Stars day. The only thing it taught me, however, was that even the great Miss Stanwyck can act awful in an awful movie. In the film’s first half hour, her character goes through enough transformations to make Sybil envious: first, she’s a plucky reporter, then she meets L.A. cop Sterling Hayden and becomes his subservient wife. As the movie progresses, she morphs again into a conniving and heartless woman in a series of actions that sets the plot in motion. As it is, the story is not very compelling and the fact that Stanwyck is screechy and unappealing throughout doesn’t add much to the film’s enjoyment. With junk like this, no wonder she would leave movies behind shortly thereafter.
I Was Stalin’s Bodyguard (1989). A dull and artsy documentary intersperses 1930s Russia footage with new interviews of Josef Stalin’s last living bodyguard. The kind of thing your local PBS outlet might have as a time killer at three a.m. One of Christopher’s rentals — and although he’s made some good choices (like Nightfall from last week), this alas was not one of them.
My Favorite Things — John Coltrane. I like my jazz sweet, melodic and not too noodly, so when this classic popped up on Amazon’s download service for only a dollar it was a perfect choice. I was only familiar with the title track before, but the other three selections are in the same vein; good background music for the next time I’m busy doing a manga book design project.
1939: The Lost World of the Fair by David Gelertner. I actually bought the hardcover edition of this book as a gift for C. when it first came out in 1995. Yes, it’s taken me thirteen years but I finally got around to reading it. Now that I’m done, I can see why it took so long since Christopher warned me that the book wasn’t very good. Gelertner’s central idea is solid — presenting the 1939 New York Worlds Fair as both a straightforward history and an impressionistic, novelized view from a “typical” visitor — but unfortunately it fails to succeed on either point. Gelertner’s main problem is that he digresses too much, and as a result the book often gets bogged down with his Grampa Simpson-like diatribes over how much more favorably he perceives the America of 1939 versus contemporary times. The diary portions, detailing the memories of a woman who got engaged to her boyfriend at the Fair, go so far afield that at times I wanted to scream “I don’t care!” This lady goes on and on about her conflicted inner feelings with nothing of substance about the Fair itself. It’s very symbolic of this frustrating book — guess I’ll have to keep waiting until this fascinating subject gets the comprehensive book it deserves.
The Raw and the Cooked — Fine Young Cannibals and The ABBA Generation — The A*Teens. Speaking of the ’30s, wasn’t it Noel Coward who wrote something about the power of cheap music? I got these two CDs for a buck fifty each at a thrift store where the proceeds benefit local animal shelters. That princely sum was about how much I’d pay for them, but both are enjoyable nonetheless. I remember digging The Raw and the Cooked in college before the damn CD got stolen just a few years later. This one was big stuff in 1989, producing two #1 hits and an Album of the Year Grammy nom, but in the years since it’s somewhat fallen out of favor. A shame, really, because the album mixes various styles stunningly well and doesn’t have a single bad track. The only thing about FYC I didn’t like was Roland Gift’s limited voice, but he has a quirky charm that elevates the material. The A*Teens was one of a gazillion turn of the Millennium Teen Pop acts which currently clog thrift bins, but I love ABBA’s music and the Eurodisco Hi-NRG treatment they get on this CD is too cheesily irresistible. Plus, the version I got was the limited Target edition with an extra megamix and two videos. Yeah, I know you’re jealous.
Red Garters (1954). An unusual musical parody of Westerns starring Rosemary Clooney and some super stylized indoor sets. This was fun at times, slow going at others, buoyed by Jack Carson and a bunch of bouncy yet forgettable songs. Clooney is fetching when she breaks the fourth wall during her vocal numbers, but she’s not a good enough actress to carry a film (even with a better than average supporting cast). In the end, I’d recommend this only for hardcore fans of weird, genre-bending ’50s flicks.
Thank God It’s Friday (1978). My expectations for this mirrorballed bomb were at a basement level, so it came as a pleasant surprise that I enjoyed this comedy for what it was (a modest, Car Wash-y period piece, basically). The film follows a diverse group of people as they convene for one evening at L.A.’s hottest disco. It’s Robert Altman in polyester and gold chains, only with a groan-inducing script and acting that ranges from decent to abysmal. Donna Summer’s meek wannabe singer takes the stage with “The Last Dance” at the film’s climax, but the scene is actually kinda blah. It’s cool seeing then-unknown actors like Debra Winger and Jeff Goldblum working beneath their talents, but probably the best thing about the movie is its delirious soundtrack (a unique collaboration between the Casablanca and Motown labels). I really gotta find that album somewhere.
To All the Call Letters I’ve Loved Before
This is a post about cool local radio stations that I grew up loving in the ’80s and ’90s. Back then the industry was run by real people who loved music and not some crappy demographic chart cranked out by a computer. In hindsight, we can now see that the Telecommunications Act of 1996 pretty much ruined everything.
Writing about these stations makes me think about how much more passive the act of listening to the radio is these days. Local radio now? Sucks. Having a deep aversion to commercials and stupidity, my car’s dial never strays away from the local NPR affiliate. But there is an upside — the internet is where true, passionate radio lives on. Ironically, I don’t find myself listening to much online radio either. Sure, I’ll occasionally tune into Pandora, Luxuria Music, or somebody’s Last.fm station for a radio fix. But it’s not the same. I don’t get the same excitement of wondering what song will come up next (except maybe Luxuria or WFMU on a good day). Let the wistful nostalgia begin:
Station: KSTM
Years of Operation: 1981-87
Typical Songs: Echo & The Bunnymen — “Bring On The Dancing Horses”; The Police — “Synchronicity”
KSTM or “The Storm” is fondly remembered by Phoenix-area listeners as much for its “anything goes” format as for its weak signal emanating from the dusty faraway hamlet of Apache Junction. Back in my high school days I used to tune in sometimes and hear wonderful and completely unfamiliar new stuff from England. Although the station was very DJ-centric and often succumbed to its own quirkiness, the music planted a seed in my young mind to be more adventurous and not fear the unknown. The best thing I remember about The Storm is that they’d play an entire album from beginning to end every night at 10:00. That was unheard of, even back then, but it allowed me to listen to things like Sgt. Pepper’s for the first time. (Many former KSTM staffers are now at the internet station Radio Free Phoenix.)
Station: KUKQ
Years of Operation (Alternative format): 1989-c.92; 1994-95
Typical Songs: Love & Rockets — “So Alive”; Michelle Shocked — “Anchorage”
The station that all the cool kids listened to. Originally a straight-up contemporary R&B station, as of 1989 KUKQ became the first place in the Valley (indeed, the entire U.S.) where one could hear all Alternative Rock, all the time. Prior to this fans had to wait for the occasional KSTM song or strain to hear the faint signal of KEYX, a short-lived but adventurous station that specialized in Alternative and R&B (and likely the only place where one could hear Ministry and Aretha Franklin played back-to-back). The KQ atmosphere was a wild and loosey goosey place with a casual crew headed by the affable Jonathan L. During the station’s height (just before Alternative got commercialized to death), it was an eclectic place that wasn’t hemmed in by any agenda or preconceived notions of what it should be. The euphoria was pretty short-lived, however. KQ was revived in the early ’90s with a harder-edged sound, but by that time I moved on to the next eight call letters listed below. (Jonathan L’s KEYX and KQ memories; a fan’s KUKQ memorial site.)
Station: KYOT
Years of Operation (Eclectic format): c.1992-94
Typical Songs: Tina Turner — “Nutbush City Limits”; Lee Michaels — “Do You Know What I Mean”
I would describe the early, coolest years of “The Coyote” as Oldies With Attitude. The playlist was a little bit of everything, new and old, rock and R&B, interspersed with DJ patter and soundbites from campy movies. This was the only time I heard nuggets like Shorty Long’s 1966 gem “Function at the Junction” on the air. It was a fantastic station, which only made it harder when after a few short years the owners converted it to a lobotomized “Smooth Jazz” format. To this day, I can’t overhear KYOT in restaurants or shops without throwing up a little.
Station: KTWC
Years of Operation: c.1993-95
Typical Songs: Al Martino — “Volare”; Sergio Mendes & Brasil ‘66 — “Going Out Of My Head”
The most obscure station listed here was also the most influential on my own musical tastes today. KTWC was a mysterious Easy Listening station with no deejays and very few commercials — just lots of music interrupted by news breaks every 15 minutes. The playlist was a bizarre bunch of pop songs from the previous 40 years thrown into a blender, foreshadowing the “iPod Shuffle” format of so many internet stations. On a typical day you’d hear Robin Ward’s orgasmic “Wonderful Summer” followed by a schmaltzy instrumental like “Theme From A Summer Place” followed by Brenda Lee’s rockin’ obscurity “Is It True” followed by Olivia Newton-John’s roller boogie masterpiece “Xanadu”. It was here that I can remember being bewitched by a weirdly atmospheric tune with fake bird calls, only to find out years later that it was Martin Denny’s Exotica classic “Quiet Village”. Honestly, hearing that station was like being let in on some cataclysmic and wonderful secret.
Station: KZON
Years of Operations (Adult Alternative format): c.1994-99
Typical Songs: Big Head Todd & The Monsters — “Bittersweet”; The Barenaked Ladies — “If I Had A Million Dollars”
In the mid ’90s, I worked at a suburban satellite office of the local newspaper. Me and my co-workers, all young professionals in their mid to late twenties, loved KZON. Of all the stations listed here, this one was probably the most tightly formatted — in this case, Adult Alternative. Remember AA? Very flavor of the month. Although it often verged on the too-mellow, this was the last local station I can think of which was guided by what the deejays wanted to play. A big chunk of the playlist was popular stuff, sure, but occasionally you’d hear a lesser-known single or an interesting older album cut from an established artist. Little did we know that it was the beginning of the end for truly creative local radio in the Phoenix area.
Bees, Bees, Millions of Bees!
Memories of a former movie extra who played a girl getting stung to death by bees in The Swarm (via Something Old, Nothing New). Getting scared shitless by Irwin Allen sounds like a blast.
Weekly Mishmash: August 10-16
Yasujiro Ozu’s Good Morning (1959). Interesting and subtle film about the goings-on with several families in a Westernized ’50s version of a Japanese suburb. Adults gossip and fret over their impending retirements; children goof off, learn English lessons and throw tantrums over not having a TV set. It’s a movie about nothing, and yet Ozu is so finely attuned to every nuance of the people onscreen so that a gesture speaks volumes. Lovely use of color and composition, too.
Kylie Minogue — Hits +. Got this really cheap and only because I was curious about Ms. Minogue’s “wannabe indie rock chick” period from 1994-97. For a hits compilation, this is awfully skimpy — six singles and a bunch of previously unreleased stuff which deserved to stay in the vaults. Those six singles are pretty good, however, so I don’t feel like the two bucks spent was a waste. Highlights: “Some Kind of Bliss,” “Breathe.”
Nightfall (1957). A late-period film noir from Jacques Tournier got a rare screening on Anne Bancroft’s Summer Under the Stars day. This was Bancroft’s film debut, but the movie really belongs to the brooding Aldo Ray as an ordinary guy who is accidentally drawn into the world of two sick criminals (Brian Keith and Rudy Bond). This had an excellent screenplay with several suspenseful scenes, several swell location shoots in and around ’50s L.A., and Bancroft gets to wear a few swanky Jean Louis gowns. I haven’t seen too many Aldo Ray films, but boy he was a hottie and this underrated gem was a good showcase for him.
Please Don’t Eat the Daisies (1960). Funny that I saw this Doris Day vehicle in the same week as Good Morning, both domestic comedies from the same era but as different as night and, er, day. Where the Ozu was small and pleasurable, this one is overblown and artificial. Day and David Niven strain credibility as a married couple coping with a home renovation, a brood of bratty boys, and his job as a New York theatre critic. I never once bought Day and Niven as marrieds, and their stories are so separated from each other that it renders the whole film into a vaguely dull mess. The only part I wholeheartedly loved came when Doris sings “Any Way the Wind Blows” in the manner of Elvis Presley musicals of the time. There’s no reason why her character would perform an impeccably arranged pop tune in the middle of a small town theatre rehearsal — with dumpy looking extras clapping and singing along — but that’s why the number is so bizarre and good.
Quiz Show (1994). Haven’t seen this one since it came out in the theatres. Still good.
The Youngest Profession (1943). A forgettable bit of b-movie fluff in which a star-struck teen (Virginia Weidler) and her daffy friend (Jean Porter) track down visiting Hollywood celebrities while keeping a hyperactive family and snoopy housekeeper at bay. The movie star cameos are amusing, but the rest of the movie was ultra-contrived and boring as all get out. One can tell that MGM was trying to launch a female version of the Andy Hardy series here, with the family having the stock wise dad (nicely played by Edward Arnold), patient mom and bratty little brother. Only it doesn’t work, and the giddy enthusiasm of Weidler and Porter is the sole element which keeps the film afloat.
Weird-O-Vision
It looks like artist Bob Hogan shares my fascination with vintage 3-D cartoon ViewMaster reels. Honestly as a child I found these things kind of eerie and cool at the same time, but now as an adult I can appreciate the care and artistry that went into them. And that makes them even cooler. (via Randomized Subjects)

Childhood Box of Curiosities on Flickr
Recently my parents brought me something from my early years which I hadn’t seen in a long while — a metal handled box with the Berenstain Bears printed on top. The box itself is pretty unassuming, but what was collected inside the box was part of something that occupied a good chunk of my leisure time in the ’80s.
As a kid, I was a collector. Tiny things fascinated me. An elementary school carnival would be a delight, because I could go there the morning after and pick up all the miniature plastic toys that people dropped on the ground. One time, the family went up north to visit a plot of high desert land which my parents owned for a time. Part of the land was littered with hundreds of broken fragments of old china dinnerware from the 1800s, which I excitedly collected and kept. My two brothers sneered at me (they sneered at most everything I did), but it was their loss that they couldn’t see the beauty in these amazing little fragments from the past. A few years later, I incorporated many of the pieces into a cool art piece.
After accumulate these objects, they often got randomly put away in bags or boxes. This particular box is an example of stuff acquired in my young teen years. There are some objects that are definitely of their time — Smurfs, a Yoda sticker, a mini Rubiks Cube. Other, much older objects were taken from my grandmother’s estate after she died in the early ’80s (guess grandma was a packrat like me). I took photos of everything in this box of curiosities and assembled them once again in Flickr — enjoy!

Baddie Hayes
R.I.P. to Isaac Hayes. Most know him from South Park or even the theme from Shaft, but personally I think his greatest legacy is in the string of hits and non-hits he wrote and produced with David Porter while at the mighty soul label Stax. Their work with Sam and Dave, Carla Thomas, and her dad Rufus is justifiably famous, but they could even spin gold with lesser-known 45s like Jeanne & The Darlings’ “How Can You Mistreat The One You Love” from 1967. Just listen below and see if this hot little number doesn’t make ya wanna boogaloo. You’ll be missed, Isaac.
Weekly Mishmash: August 3-9
Marvin Gaye — Let’s Get It On. A horndog classic. Amazon had the no-frills download edition of this album recently for $1.99, so of course I had to get it. I can remember having this on an ’80s CD, paired up with What’s Going On. Compared with that one, Let’s Get It On is a brief and rather slight affair — but on its own it holds up pretty well. I like how over the course of the LP Gaye goes from sounding horny as hell (title track) to being desperate and somewhat creepy (”Just to Keep You Satisfied”).
Min and Bill (1930). The fact that TCM had a Marie Dressler day during its Summer Under the Stars was ample reason enough to TiVo the box office hit which propelled her into unlikely stardom and a Best Actress Oscar. It’s an odd and short little tale of seaside tawdriness, one that lurches from slapstick comedy to heavy drama. Dressler is good at both — as are supporting players Dorothy Jordan, Wallace Beery, and Marjorie Rambeau — but it sure is a strange and creaky little movie in which the sums of its parts come off better than the whole.
The Mist (2007). At first, this had all the elements of a fun tribute to glorious ’50s monster movies, complete with b-movie style acting (and in Marcia Gay Harden’s case, overacting) and a building sense of dread. It’s tense where it should be and the special effects were effectively creepy. Eventually, however, it gets derailed with weighty metaphors. And the ending … sucked.
Olympics Opening Ceremonies (NBC). I approached this baby with trepidation, having fresh memories of Athens 2004 and the way NBC royally screwed the broadcast up by having Bob Costas and Katie Couric inanely babble on at every opportunity. I wanted to slash my wrists after that. Luckily, the Beijing ceremonies surpassed my expectations in every possible way — gargantuan, thrilling, beautiful, at times weird. Seeing hundreds of Chinese men in green light-up suits isn’t something I’ll likely forget anytime soon. Thankfully, NBC handled the broadcast appreciably better this time around. Costas, Matt Lauer and a needed Chinese cultural expert kept the color commentary to non-obnoxious levels and actually had a few interesting things to say. Check out the SFGate.com photo gallery of the events.
The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio (2006). Using the words “heart warming” and “old fashioned” to describe a movie doesn’t sound like much of an endorsement, but this uplifting Julianne Moore film fits that description to a tee. Moore (playing a ’50s housewife for the third time) excels as Evelyn Ryan, a real lower-middle class woman who supported her husband and ten kids by entering dozens of contests and sweepstakes. I also enjoyed Woody Harrelson as the jerky, selfish hubby Kelly. At times this movie is directed in a self-conscious method imitating kitschy old commercials and industrial films, when a more straightforward handling would have been more appropriate. Aside from that, I enjoyed this wholesome tribute to the pluckiness of the American spirit.
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.








