Fine, Swine, Wish It Weren’t Mine
Sorry. I’ve been laying low in the past few days. I caught the flu. Not the dreaded H1N1 (don’t call it Swine) Flu, thank goodness. It got really bad over the weekend; now I’m coasting out of it in a general haze of ickiness. In honor of the occasion, I have some vintage PSAs from the last swine flu outbreak in 1976. The technique may be dated, but the paranoia is timeless. Your taxpayer money at work!
Back to pills and plenty of fluids for me.
Weekly Mishmash: April 19-25
1408 (2007). Showtime taping. Stephen King adaptation about a jaded writer (John Cusack) who has frittered away his promising career writing travel guides for haunted places. Tipped on a mysterious hotel room where several tenants killed themselves, the skeptical Cusack books a night — despite the warnings of hotel manager Samuel L. Jackson. This was more creepy than scary, and somewhat disappointing despite a winning turn by a perfectly schlumpy Cusack. The filmmakers decided to take a mainstream approach, leading to several moments where I wished it had gone into really freaky and bizarre territory. Instead it plays it safe, although having a clock radio that only plays the Carpenters’ “We’ve Only Just Begun” at full blast would truly be horrific.
Here Come the Waves (1944). Genial, brainless WWII entertainment. Bing Crosby stars as a crooner who enlists in the Navy. Betty Hutton plays twins — one a brassy blonde, the other a demure brunette. As the “aw shucks” fourth wheel, Sonny Tufts once again makes me wonder why he was ever a movie star. Predictable flag-waving stuff, with several handsome production numbers involving multitudes of marching uniformed women. The biggest surprise is Betty playing the low-key sister. She’s actually very good, giving off a subtle, Eve Arden-ish vibe very different from her more typical persona as the ditsy blonde sister. I watched her in this part and thought, “Here’s a lady that should have been given more chances to prove her versatility.” Alas, she went back to playing ditsy blondes seemingly for the rest of her career.
Miss Potter (2006). Showtime taping. Beautifully produced and insanely sweet movie about the life of Beatrix Potter. Renée Zellweger is her usual squinty-eyed self in the title role. She admirably transforms herself into a plain-looking, eccentric woman who speaks to the animals in her drawings. Still, I felt like I was watching an actress playing a part, never truly witnessing scenes from Potter’s life. I also felt that the film’s central proto-Feminist theme has been done a million times before, and the direction was too goopy and sentimental (at times it was like watching a “Hallmark Hall of Fame” TV movie). I did enjoy this movie, however, and unlike many others I found the sequences with an animated Peter Rabbit and other creatures incredibly appealing.
Together (2002). Slice-of-life Chinese family drama about a gifted young violinist who attempts to find a mentor via his pushy and uncouth father (kind of a male Stella Dallas). This is one of the most Western looking Chinese films I’ve ever seen; a good suggestion for a subtitle-phobic movie viewer. It has a wry sense of humor that reminded me at times of the Japanese version of Shall We Dance?. It won’t knock anyone’s socks off by any means, but this was a warm and appealing story that went down like a cup of slow brewed herbal tea.
The Wire: Season Four (DVD set). I started renting DVDs of The Wire last year, managing to get Christopher hooked as well. This week we finished watching season four, which both of us agree is the best yet. I loved this season’s focus on the education system (man, our schools are totally f—ed up), and the new cast of talented young actors really brightens up what was already a top-drawer ensemble cast. This is one amazing, gritty show, which makes me surprised that it wasn’t showered with Emmy awards when it was on HBO. Check out the Amazon page for some interesting “prequel” vignettes of the characters. Onward to Season Five …
Wrangler: Anatomy of an Icon (2008). Considering that it focuses on a ’70s porn star, this was a sweet little documentary. Part of its appeal comes from current interviews with a silver-haired and chatty Jack Wrangler, nee John Robert Stillman, who rose to fame projecting a masculine image that contradicted gay stereotypes of that era. This film also served as a fascinating look into the world of ’70s gay porn (which I previously didn’t know much about — honest!) with several cool and campy clips and illuminating interviews with those who were there. Wrangler later crossed over to straight porn and turned heads by marrying an older woman, singer Margaret Whiting. What drives this film is the present-day Stillman’s own self-deprecating bemusement at the strange path his own life took (sadly, he died earlier this month).
A Little Green Ball of Clay
For being faithful satellite service customers, we found out here at chez Scrubbles that we’re getting three free months of Showtime (including ancillary channels Sundance and Flix). Blockbuster movie overload! Amongst the new offerings was Gumby Dharma, an hour-long documentary on the life of Gumby creator Art Clokey. This was totally fascinating, of course. One of my favorite parts came when they showed snippets of Gumbasia, a short film that Clokey created in his own garage in 1953. According to the doc, Clokey showed this to a 20th Century Fox studio exec in the hopes that they’d pick up the film for theatrical distribution. The exec was duly impressed, but instead of taking on this film he commissioned Clokey to created a new set of shorts geared towards children. Voilá, the creation of Gumby!
Joy of joys, I actually found the full-length version of Gumbasia on YouTube. Dig the jazzy score and the eye popping colors:
Book Review: Sketchbooks
When you think about it, a sketchbook is often the only place an artist can truly be him- or herself, with nothing to prove to anyone else. In Sketchbooks: The Hidden Art of Designers, Illustrators and Creatives, Richard Brereton persuaded several prominent people in the field to share pages from their own sketchbooks — weirdness be damned. Each subject gets 4-6 pages of lushly photographed sketchbook spreads, along with a short statement in which the artists explain their own personal histories with sketching and what compels them to sketch. Many choose to doodle or write cryptic passages with illustrations; others do completely uninhibited stuff that may reveal something about the artist’s subconsciousness. In the latter category, I really want to know why the famous British designer Peter Saville felt the need to write his own name dozens of times back in 2001.
Flipping through this book is a little like browsing through the Moleskine: One Page at a Time flickr group. The art on display boasts a diverse variety of subject matter and media (one artist even mentions sticking a hunk of raw meat in a sketchbook!). If I had one misgiving about this book, it’s that the subjects are very Euro-centric with very little representation from Asia or the Americas. I was also disappointed that the handful of American artists here all seem to be based in New York. Other than those issues, this is a beautifully done project, inspiring me to break out the ‘ol Moleskine and draw away.
Sketchbooks: The Hidden Art of Designers, Illustrators and Creatives is published by Laurence King. Buy at Amazon here.
P.S. If anybody knows of any other new books coming out of a design/art/retro/pop culture persuasion, please let me know. Thanks!
Weekly Mishmash: April 12-18
The Beales of Grey Gardens (2006). An addendum to Grey Gardens that patches together outtakes from the chronicle of Edith Bouvier Beale and “Little Edie” Beale in their crumbling Hamptons manse. What this means is lots of footage showing Beale pals Jerry and Lois (and her awful paintings), more of Edith’s wisdom and Edie’s tone deaf singing, and a fabulous montage of Edie’s unique outfits. The footage here makes Edie seem more needy and schizophrenic than she did in the feature film, but at least we get a tantalizing glimpse of her going to church outside of Grey Gardens. Scattershot but fascinating.
The Great McGinty (1940). The film gods have bestowed this comedy as minor Preston Sturges, but actually it’s a buzzy political satire that would do well on a double bill with All the King’s Men (1949). As a Depression era bum who rises to great heights in the political field, Brian Donlevy is an odd yet in the end compelling presence. As with other Sturges films, this has a dynamite supporting cast which includes the fiery William Demarest and Akim Tamiroff. One quibble: the film ends abruptly. It actually plays more like half a film, but since The Great McGinty 2 apparently never saw production, I will take this as it is.
Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman – Volume 1 (DVD set). Bought this last summer as “in between” viewing for whenever I didn’t have a DVD or something on the TiFaux to watch. This week, I finally completed every one the first 25 episodes contained on this set. What a bizarre, fascinating show this is. Louise Lasser strikes the perfect dead-eyed tone as a frustrated housewife in this soap opera parody created by Norman Lear. Like a real soap, this was produced on the cheap, overlit and often clumsily directed, and broadcast five nights a week. The pacing is so leisurely and the comedy is so dry that often an episode will go by with only a few obvious jokes. Personally, I loved how the show perfectly captured the defeated tone of mid-’70s America. I only wish Sony would get off their butts and release all 325 episodes on DVD (doubt it). Next “in between” viewing: Knots Landing, Season 2.
The Onion Movie (2008). I remember when I first heard about this. I thought “How could anyone possibly make a movie based on The Onion?” Now I know that the answer is “just barely.” Canned since it was made in 2003, this got a belated release on home video last year. We caught a bleeped out broadcast showing on G4. Although it has a few brilliant bits (the Goofus and Gallant style terrorist training video, for instance), most of it played like a deadly dull Saturday Night Live parody.
Happy 15th, Turner Classic Movies
Turner Classic Movies has been on the air for fifteen years this month — wow! Noel Murray of the A.V. Club salutes the anniversary in a blog post. I remember when TCM first started very well. Ted Turner’s other cable channel, TNT, broadcast previews of their new venture that spring. As soon as I saw Robert Osborn’s classy intro for Flamingo Road, I knew that this was gonna be something new and interesting. The retro logo, ad campaign and identity system designed by the wonderful Charles S. Anderson company confirmed that fact. This wasn’t like American Movie Classics at all. Although I was a fan of AMC, the channel (as it existed in 1994) was a more humble affair generally geared towards oldsters who remembered classic films when they were new. Enjoyable, but not cool in any way, shape or form.
Seeing the Now Playing program guide cover posted at the A.V. Club reminded me of something else. In the early years, TCM published their monthly schedule on a single, folded up piece of paper. And it was shipped for free to anybody who was interested. Even before I could get the channel (being an apartment dweller with limited income was not fun), I pored through these schedules with their enticing titles. Later on, I participated in a customer survey that helped to determine the format and listing style for the glossy, more detailed schedule that we know and love today.
I can also remember that it wasn’t so easy to get the channel in its early years. A co-worker at the time was housesitting for someone with a fancy satellite system. I handed him a bunch of blank VHS tapes and told him to just put them in the VCR and record TCM; I didn’t even care if it only caught parts of movies. In late Spring 1996, I was a new homeowner — with cable setup — and could finally enjoy them 24/7. Unlike many other cable channels, TCM hasn’t changed a lot over the years. They know not to tinker with a good thing. Happy anniversary, TCM.
P.S. Another good, albeit unrelated, read: Typeface Inspired by Comic Books Has Become a Font of Ill Will (thanks Christopher!).
They Say That Cookie Is a Bad Mutha
Cookie Monster does an Isaac Hayes thang with “Cookie Disco.” I don’t recall seeing this one at all! Fun fact: the song was co-written by Christopher Cerf, son of Random House publisher and What’s My Line? panelist Bennett Cerf. We can dig it.
Many other vintage Sesame Street goodies can be seen on NantoVision’s channel.
Disney, Disney and More Disney
A few months after launch, the Disney company’s hoity toity club D23 has been getting mixed to bad reviews from the fans. Granted, charging seventy-five bucks a year for a glossy, shallow magazine and the honor of buying overpriced tchotckes online was a foolish move in this economic climate. I also detest how they’re casting too wide a net on this thing, attempting to rope in both classic Disney fans and the Hannah Montana/High School Musical tweens. Three words, Disney: ain’t gonna happen. Pity, because the website is actually pretty cool for what it’s worth. Nicely researched articles such as this profile of the late voice actress Robie Lester are luckily free to non-members. Disney is a huge corporate entity with no capability whatsoever of being self-critical, so I don’t expect much of D23 — but what they have so far is a pleasant little diversion.
More Disney goodness: Eight Great Moments of Design at Walt Disney World, a long but worthwhile entry from the astute blogger behind Passport to Dreams, Old and New. I actually missed most of these on my trip last year, so it gives me something to look forward to should I ever get back.
Coincidentally, James Lileks has been filing a Walt Disney World trip report — so far he’s got day one at Animal Kingdom and day two at Epcot, with more to come. I like his perspective on things, and the fact that he keeps comparing the place with what Unofficial Guide readers say is hilarious (I was doing the same thing on my visit a year ago).
Weekly Mishmash: April 5-11
All Through The Night (1942). Humphrey Bogart appears to be having a ball in this action packed thriller with comedy elements. Here he plays a Guys & Dolls-like gambler who gets mixed up with a murderous gang of undercover Nazis posing as New York City antique dealers. Starts off peppy and fun with the usual Warner Bros. zing and a peppery cast that includes a young and unknown Jackie Gleason. The comedy never jells, however, and after an hour the film surprisingly becomes a drag which never seems to end. Too bad. I loved Judith Anderson here as a Dragon Lady in a sequined black gown.
The Day the Earth Stood Still (2008). Add another one to the “needless remakes” pile. Why did they bother? Keanu Reeves (typecast as a robot) and Jennifer Connelly are boring, the CGI is gratuitous, and the script succumbs to a lot of stupid lapses in logic (e.g., bugs that can destroy a stadium in seconds can’t touch a tiny bridge?). Worst of all is Jaden Smith as Connelly’s stepson. I don’t remember the part of the kid being that prominent in the original; here, the role balloons into that of a shrill brat who stops the film dead in its tracks whenever he’s onscreen. Not since The Phantom Menace has a movie been so sabotaged by an annoying, screen-hogging moppet.
The H-Man (1958) and I Married a Monster from Outer Space (1958). The TiFauxed gatherings of a night of ’50s sci-fi broadcast by TCM on March 31st. Produced by Toho Studios of Godzilla fame, The H-Man concerns a bubbling blob of goo that attacks Tokyo denziens at night — leaving only their clothes behind. Campy fun tempered with effectively creepy scenes of people liquifying in their own clothes. I also loved the colorful ’50s atmosphere, including a nightclub where the dancers wear surprisingly skimpy outfits for 1958. TCM’s showing was the dubbed, pan and scan Americanized version, but I enjoyed it just the same. I Married a Monster from Outer Space was another dark gem — don’t let the kitschy title fool you. This story of a young bride (Gloria Talbott, who’d previously played Jane Wyman’s bratty daughter in All That Heaven Allows) who comes to realize that her new husband (Tom Tryon) is not the man he used to be reeks of ’50s paranoia. As the film unfolds, it is revealed that aliens are taking over the bodies of all the men in the town so that they can eventually impregnate the women and save their kind. This movie is very well-made and has that proper anti-Commie slant — but I could also detect an unspoken homophobia in there as well, which makes this doubly fascinating. A major premise of the movie is that all of the alienized men have a sudden kinship with each other that the women don’t understand; helping further is the fact that the lanky Tom Tryon actually was gay and gives off some serious gaydar in this role. Or am I reading too much here?
Pirates of the Caribbean: From the Magic Kingdom to the Movies by Jason Surrell. A nicely written history of the theme park attraction in all its incarnations, beautifully illustrated with tons of old concept renderings. For an official Disney-sanctioned book, the text surprisingly depends on many imagineer quotes taken from the fan-run vintage Disneyland magazine The E-Ticket. This book also chronicles the making of the first PotC movie, which had its moments but isn’t my cup of tea. I also liked reading the company’s namby-pamby rationalizations for giving the Pirates a P.C. makeover in the late ’90s, and more recently for adding an animatronic Jack Sparrow to the ride. For today’s Disney, it’s all about raking in the bucks.
Strangers with Candy (2005). I used to enjoy Strangers With Candy when it was on Comedy Central. Amy Sedaris was a riot as tough talking ex-druggie convict turned high schooler Jerri Blank. This big screen adaptation, however, was a disappointment. In opening the premise up to filmic proportions, the hilarious “after school special” flavor of the series was tossed aside for a dull plot in which Jeri and her nerdy classmates try to win the school’s science fair. The one saving grace is Sedaris’ complete lack of vanity as Jerri Blank, and in that respect she scores.
Secrets (1933). A well-mounted period production in which Mary Pickford and Leslie Howard play a couple whose loving relationship spans fifty years. At the age of forty, this was Pickford’s final film. The silent screen legend strains credibility as a teenager in early scenes, and her cutesy-poo mannerisms sometimes go too far (at times she reminded me of Georgette from The Mary Tyler Moore Show). The melodrama is also hobbled with being too episodic and old fashioned, but Frank Borzage directs smoothly and Pickford gets one fantastic scene when her ranch home gets attacked by vicious rustlers. Worth a look for the curious.
Lines Are Fun
Time for a vintage film that evokes memories of painstakingly laying strips of wet newspaper on a balloon in third grade art class. The virtually dialogue-free Art For Beginners: Fun With Lines ambles along like a mellow Sesame Street segment. It was produced by Coronet in 1973, with lots of cool shots in and around Chicago. Hands on your desks, students, and don’t eat the Play-Doh.
The Real One Hit Wonders of the ’80s
Just finished watching all five hours of VH1′s 100 Greatest One Hit Wonders Of The ’80s. Brainless fun, but they sure are running these things into the ground.
You might remember that VH1 already did a One Hit Wonder countdown a few years back, hosted by No Hit Wonder William Shatner. As with that show, I have issues with the network’s definition of “One Hit Wonder.” Apparently they’ve decided that, coming up on twenty years hindsight, only having one memorable hit in the ’80s is enough for an artist to qualify for the privilege of having d-list celebrities snarking on them. Therefore you have a-ha’s era defining “Take On Me” comfortably perched at #3, forgetting that the synthy Norwegians also had a decent sized follow-up hit (“The Sun Always Shines On TV”) and a pretty good Bond theme (“The Living Daylights”) to their credit. This is both revisionist and sloppy.
It all begs the question — what is a true One Hit Wonder? I use the Billboard Hot 100 pop charts as my yardstick. If a song peaks in the top 40 (or, better yet, the top 10), it’s a hit. If a particular artist has only one single that peaked in the Pop top 40 — one song and nothing else in the Hot 100 — that singer or group can claim the title of One Hit Wonder proudly. You might want to know how well VH1 did in this regard. Combing through Joel Whitburn’s book Top Pop Singles 1955-1999, I’ve logged below every single artist who had only one single peaking in the top 40 from 1980-1989 (the list also includes a few stragglers who entered the charts in late ’79, like the Buggles’ “Video Killed The Radio Star”). Songs that are bolded are also on VH1′s list. As you can see, there aren’t too many bolded tunes here. It doesn’t take a mediocre comedian to notice that reality and VH1 don’t quite jibe.
Artists United Against Apartheid – Sun City (#38, 1985)
Autograph – Turn Up The Radio (#29, 1985)
Boys Club – I Remember Holding You (#8, 1988)
Boys Don’t Cry – I Wanna Be A Cowboy (#12, 1986)
Martin Briley – The Salt In My Tears (#36, 1983)
The Buggles – Video Killed the Radio Star (#40, 1980)
Rocky Burnette – Tired Of Toein’ The Line (#8, 1980)
Roseanne Cash – Seven Year Ache (#22, 1981)
Felix Cavaliere – Only A Lonely Heart Sees (#36, 1980)
Gavin Christopher – One Step Closer To You (#22, 1986)
Stanley Clarke – Sweet Baby (#19, 1981)
Clarence Clemons – You’re A Friend Of Mine (#18, 1985)
Climie Fisher – Love Changes (Everything) (#23, 1988)
Cock Robin – When Your Heart Is Weak (#35, 1985)
Company B – Fascinated (#21, 1987)
Marshall Crenshaw – Someday, Someway (#36, 1982)
Rodney Crowell – Ashes By Now (#37, 1980)
Danny Wilson – Mary’s Prayer (#23, 1987)
Diesel – Saulsalito Summernight (#25, 1981)
Charlie Dore – Pilot Of The Airwaves (#13, 1980)
Double – The Captain Of Her Heart (#16, 1986)
Larry Elgart & His Manhattan Swing Orchestra – Hooked On Swing (#31, 1982)
E.U. – Da’Butt (#35, 1988)
Face To Face – 10-9-8 (#38, 1984)
Harold Faltermeyer – Axel F (#3, 1985)
Frida – I Know There’s Something Going On (#13, 1982)
Get Wet – Just So Lonely (#39, 1981)
Godley & Creme – Cry (#16, 1985)
Haircut One Hundred – Love Plus One (#37, 1982)
Jan Hammer – Miami Vice Theme (#1, 1985)
Hipsway – The Honeytheif (#19, 1987)
John Hunter – Tragedy (#39, 1985)
Rebbie Jackson – Centipede (#24, 1984)
JoBoxers – Just Got Lucky (#38, 1983)
Oran “Juice” Jones – The Rain (#9, 1986)
Jump In The Saddle – The Curly Shuffle (#15, 1984)
Junior – Mama Used To Say (#30, 1982)
Kix – Don’t Close Your Eyes (#11, 1989)
The Korgis – Everybody’s Got To Learn Sometime (#18, 1980)
Laid Back – White Horse (#26, 1984)
Larson-Feiten Band – Who’ll Be The Fool Tonight (#29, 1980)
David Lasley – If I Had My Wish Tonight (#36, 1982)
Jeff Lorber – Facts Of Love (#27, 1987)
Gloria Loring – Friends And Lovers (#2, 1986)
M/A/R/R/S – Pump Up The Volume (#13, 1988)
Nancy Martinez – For Tonight (#32, 1986)
Bobby McFerrin – Don’t Worry Be Happy (#1, 1988)
Bob & Doug McKenzie – Take Off (#16, 1982)
Models – Out Of Mind, Out Of Sight (#37, 1986)
Shirley Murdock – As We Lay (#23, 1987)
Nena – 99 Luftballons (#2, 1984)
Gary Numan – Cars (#9, 1980)
John O’Banion – Love You Like I Never Loved Before (#24, 1981)
Ollie & Jerry – Breakin’… There’s No Stoppin’ Us (#9, 1984)
Opus – Live Is Life (#32, 1986)
Benjamin Orr – Stay The Night (#24, 1987)
Oxo – Whirly Girl (#28, 1983)
Partland Brothers – Soul City (#27, 1987)
Leslie Pearl – If The Love Fits Wear It (#28, 1982)
Point Blank – Nicole (#39, 1981)
Dan Reed Network – Ritual (#38, 1988)
Cheryl Pepsii Riley – Thanks For My Child (#32, 1988)
Roachford – Cuddly Toy (Feel For Me) (#25, 1989)
Romeo Void – A Girl In Trouble (Is A Temporary Thing) (#35, 1984)
Royal Philharmonic Orchestra – Hooked On Classics (#10, 1981)
Scarlett & Black – You Don’t Know (#20, 1988)
Charlie Sexton – Beat’s So Lonely (#17, 1986)
Phil Seymour – Precious To Me (#22, 1981)
Silver Condor – You Could Take My Heart Away (#32, 1981)
Frankie Smith – Double Dutch Bus (#30, 1981)
Soft Cell – Tainted Love (#8, 1982)
Judson Spence – Yeah, Yeah, Yeah (#32, 1988)
Jim Steinman – Rock And Roll Dreams Come Through (#32, 1981)
Suave’ – My Girl (#20, 1988)
Patrick Swayze – She’s Like The Wind (#3, 1988)
Sylvia – Nobody (#15, 1982)
Taco – Puttin’ On The Ritz (#4, 1983)
Ta Mara & The Seen – Everybody Dance (#24, 1985)
John Taylor – I Do What I Do… (#23, 1986)
Timbuk 3 – The Future’s So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades (#19, 1986)
Timex Social Club – Rumors (#8, 1986)
Tom Tom Club – Genius Of Love (#31, 1982)
T’Pau – Heart And Soul (#4, 1987)
USA For Africa – We Are The World (#1, 1985)
Vandenberg – Burning Heart (#39, 1983)
Vangelis – Chariots Of Fire (#1, 1982)
The Vapors – Turning Japanese (#36, 1980)
Don Williams – I Believe In You (#24, 1980)
World Party – Ship Of Fools (#27, 1987)
Weekly Mishmash: March 29-April 4
ABC — Up and Abracadabra. Two cheap-o old CDs that I bought out of curiosity. I somewhat liked ABC in the ’80s, especially their wonderful Lexicon of Love LP. These later efforts illustrate what happens when formerly popular musicians adapt to changing tastes. 1989′s Up was their stab at a “House” album, complete with cringingly dated synths and brain-dead, repetitive drum machine beats. The only halfway decent song (“The Real Thing”) is a “Look of Love” ripoff. The group fared a lot better with the overlooked Abracadabra, but by 1991 apparently nobody really cared enough to notice. This album also has its share of filler, but at least the duo carve out a pleasing neo-soul groove throughout. The production has a consistently jazzy, kinetic sound similar to what Lisa Stansfield and Soul II Soul were doing at the time. No Lexicon, but an enjoyable set nonetheless.
Double Indemnity (1944). Best film noir of all time? I think this is the third time I’ve seen this one, and it really stands out as a well made and suspenseful film on all levels. Were I to introduce someone to the magic of classic movies, I’d likely start here. Fred MacMurray, Barbara Stanwyck, Edward G. Robinson, and director Billy Wilder have never been better. One thing that stood out for me is go-round is the crackin’ dialogue (“I wonder if you wonder.”). As further proof of its greatness, this movie has been rated by five of my Netflix friends — all of whom gave it the highest rating of five stars.
Paradise Now (2005). From IMdB’s plot description: “The story places two close friends, Palestinians Said and Khaled, recruited by an extremist group to perpetrate a terrorist attack in Tel-Aviv, blowing up themselves. However, things go wrong and both friends must separate in the border. One of them, maintaining in his purpose of carry the attack to the end, and the other will have his doubts about it.” Interesting premise with a somewhat flawed execution. The direction seems too feather-light and leisurely for the subject matter at hand, and we as viewers don’t get enough time to know the two men before they are thrust into the situation. The subject matter kept me intrigued, however, and the acting is uniformly good. I recognized the lady who played the mother from The Visitor, where she also played a mother in an equally affecting performance.
Supergirl (1984). This botched attempt at another franchise boot had potential as a campy thrill ride of a movie, but sloppy direction made this a footnote among ’80s superhero pics. On the plus side, Helen Slater was the perfect choice to play Supergirl. She approaches the role in a straightforward, utterly earnest way that is delightful to behold. It’s a tact that worked for Christopher Reeve, and it works for Slater as well (wonder why she didn’t become a bigger star?). On the minus side, um … everything else? It’s obviously apparent that the Superman movies were running on fumes by this time. The entire project feels like a halfhearted rehash, right down to Faye Dunaway’s lame-o villainess. An aspiring witch who bizarrely lives in a repurposed carnival attraction? C’mon.
What’s the Matter with Helen? (1971). Yet another Whatever Happened to Baby Jane ripoff, but this particular film is a lot more fascinating and smartly made than its kitschy title might suggest. Debbie Reynolds and Shelly Winters star in this 1930s period piece as the mothers of two convicted thrill killers. Ashamed, the duo decide to take on new identities and move out to Hollywood, where Reynolds gets a Jean Harlow-style makeover and opens her own dance studio. The plain Winters, meanwhile, is a religious neurotic who can’t leave the traumas of the past behind. The film is padded out with lots of unnecessary red herrings and silly, nostalgic musical numbers with the tap dancing Reynolds (who looks fabulous here, by the way). What is does have is a nifty amount of cynicism about the shallowness of fame, all in a nicely handled if backlot-reliant L.A. setting. Reynolds and Winters are both excellent; too bad the ending is a letdown.
Eating Doritos and Writing About Them
Yesterday, during one of my periodic jaunts to the corner convenience store, I spied a new snackfood on the shelves. In an apparent bid to catch the Pineapple Express audience, Doritos has introduced two flavors going by the names Late Night Tacos at Midnight and Last Call Jalapeño Poppers. I snatched up a bag of the taco chips. Pathetically, I intend to write about them here.
A little background: I savored the original Taco flavored Doritos as they existed in the ’80s, especially when one would find the odd chip with a crust of excess taco powder. It makes my heart beat faster just thinking about that stuff. After a long dry spell without my precious Taco Doritos, the company reintroduced them into the market a few years back. Unfortunately, the new taco chips can only be bought as part of their Collisions line, sharing bag space with blah chipotle ranch chips. They also taste subtly different from the old formula — but, hey, I’ll take ‘em any way they make ‘em.
This bag of Late Night Tacos at Midnight made for a subversive afternoon snack. Immediately I wondered if the formula on these is different from the Collisions chips. They are. For one, they smell exactly like a real taco — with tomato and lettuce, even! My hat is off to the nameless Frito Lay test kitchen employee who came up with a way to make a tortilla chip smell as if it contains lettuce. Luckily, the leafy green scent doesn’t translate to the taste. Actually, they taste somewhat wimpy and unappealing. Guess you have to be a pothead with the munchies to truly enjoy these.
p.s. I haven’t tried the Last Call Jalapeño Poppers Doritos. A tweet from my pal Bob calls them “disgusting.” Think I’ll pass.
Danish Dudes
A killer groove downloaded via iTunes: “Du & Jeg” was a 2008 single by Dutch musical duo Hej Matematik. Apparently this is the male voice from Aqua (remember “Barbie Girl”?) and his nephew. I don’t know what they’re saying, but something about this video tells me it’s tongue-in-cheek. Really, this video plays like a parody of Euro-slick visual clichés:
