Doing Time at the Piggly Wiggly
I was going to write about the first ten songs that came up when my iTunes shuffled, but instead let’s take a look at this mesmerizing short that envisions 1960s Judy Garland and Liza Minnelli shopping for groceries. And look, there’s 1970s Ann Miller working the check-out register! It’s clever how they matched the lip movements with the new words. Gay as all get out – and funny, too.
Flick Clique: April 1-7
The Hunger Games (2012). This was our special movie-day movie from last Wednesday. We’ve never read the books, but the dystopian-future/kids-in-peril concept sounded intriguing enough so we decided to check it out. Although the film has a few flaws, we generally enjoyed it. In case you live under a rock, the story is set in a near-future time where society is split into wealthy cities surrounded by poor communities. The city has a yearly televised competition/reality show in which a boy and girl from each of the twelve local districts between the ages of 12 and 18 (Why? It’s not really explained.) are randomly picked and plopped into a wooded area to survive, fight, kill and rely on their wits until one victor is crowned. Jennifer Lawrence as protagonist Katniss was really good, striking a good balance between inner strength and girly vulnerability/youth (I thought she was even better here than in Winter’s Bone). The story kept my interest, even though it was filled with shallowly drawn characters like Katniss’ boyfriend (Liam Hemsworth) and the smarmy TV host (Stanley Tucci). Things I didn’t like so much were the costumes (everybody looks like Lady Gaga in this world?) and the shaky camera, which was probably used to soften up the violence so the film would get a P-13 rating and safely get all those tweens in the theaters. The game itself suffered from too much outside manipulation by the TV producers. This film also contains one of those terribly cliché scenes where the killer is this close to offing the main character, but then she has to offer up the reasons why the other person deserves to die – we all know how those scenes end up, right? Other than all that stuff, we really enjoyed The Hunger Games.
1911 (2011). Mammoth, hard-to-follow Chinese historical epic stars Jackie Chan as an officer in the Nationalist forces which overthrew the Qing Dynasty in the eventful year of 1911. It’s basically the same story that was partially told in The Last Emperor, only more heavily weighed towards the non-royalty side. The film supplements the narrative with subtitles introducing every character and copious liner notes, giving it a stuffy and impenetrable air. Although Chinese actor Winston Chao has a good gravitas as the Nationalist leader Sun Yat-Sen, he struggles through several English language scenes with laughable dialogue that is phonetically (and weirdly) spoken by the actor. Chan is decent, although too old for his role – and he does an inappropriate scene where he rocks the kung-fu moves. Battle scenes, negotiations, history of suspicious accuracy… what a strange, overproduced film.
Underworld (1927). This early film from Marlene Dietrich svengali Josef Von Sternberg has more interest as a historic curio than anything else, being one of the first contemporary gangster films. Fiery George Bancroft plays a bruiser named Bull, who with his moll Feathers (Evelyn Brent) helps rehabilitate vagrant Rolls Royce (Clive Brook) to be part of his gang of racketeers – headquartered in a flower shop! Rolls Royce and Feathers end up falling for each other, which complicates matters when Bull is sent to the slammer and needs help breaking out. The story is pretty typical, but the film is fast-paced and beautifully photographed. I loved watching this one just for Evelyn Brent’s wild outfits, all of which involve feathers (of course). We have a framed photo of Miss Brent in our living room, by the way – which is perfect, since our home was built in the same year this compelling silent was originally released.
Flickr Friday: You Look Ridiculous
I came across another great kiddie book from the ’60s when looking through my mom’s collection. You Look Ridiculous Said the Rhinoceros to the Hippopotamus (1966) was written and illustrated by Bernard Waber. Best known for Lyle the Crocodile, Waber has dozens of books to his credit (and he’s still going in his 80s). This book has lots of wonderful, expressionistic drawings of the title characters. I dig the orange, green and gray color scheme and the endpapers seen at this post’s bottom.
Although this book wasn’t part of our family’s library when we were kids, I was immediately taken by the artwork and snatched it for myself (my nephews will just have to live with one less book to look at!). These scans are part of my Childhood Books, ’60s-’70s Flickr set.
Flick Clique: March 25-31
Boardwalk Empire: Season 1 (DVD, 2012). I love this show! Great acting, great production design and a plot that keeps you guessing about what will happen next. Like Mad Men, it took a few episodes to truly suck us in. It might be that the idea of Steve Buscemi as a powerful treasurer who rules 1920s Atlantic City takes some getting used to – but he adds the right amount of snark to the role. I could even believe him as a chick magnet (power is a great aphrodisiac). There’s also a ton of interesting supporting characters – Shea Whigham as the police commisioner/Buscemi’s brother, Michael Pitt and Gretchen Mol as a mother/son with a weirdly incestuous relationship, Michael Shannon as the IRS agent with borderline psychotic puritanical values, Kelly Macdonald as the “not as virtuous as she appears” suffragette widow … can’t wait for the next season.
The Million Dollar Duck (1971). Over the past few years I’ve been exploring Disney’s live-action comedies from the ’60s and ’70s, this Dean Jones/Sandy Duncan opus was the last (and definitely the least). This one concerns a special duck that, through a combo of radioactive exposure and a toxic applesauce recipe, winds up laying eggs with yolks made of pure gold. The hijinks involving the main couple’s greedy pal Tony Roberts and the U.S. Treasury are lame and totally unbelievable. I could see why Gene Siskel walked out of it, but at least the climactic chase scene (filmed in and around Burbank and Toluca Lake, near the Disney studio) was kind of fun – and the duck was cute.
A Night To Remember (1958). Reviewing this for DVD Talk (the first Criterion disc I got from them!). I won’t elaborate too much — this wound up being much better than I remember. Criterion gives this film, still the most realistic telling of the Titanic disaster, the classy treatment it deserves. I enjoyed comparing/contrasting this with James Cameron’s Titanic – although the more recent film conveys the enormity of the shipwreck better (Night‘s obvious use of miniatures and models are a slight hindrance), this one has a better grasp on the events as they really happened. In the end, the decision of the filmmakers not to focus on any particular character works out for the better and ultimately makes it the more touching, emotional experience of the two.
The Straight Story (1999). Also known as David Lynch’s most atypical film, this heart warming drama tells the real-life chronicle of Richard Farnsworth’s Alvin Straight, an old Iowan who undertakes a multi-state journey to visit with his ailing brother Lyle (Harry Dean Stanton, only seen in the final few minutes). Unable to drive and unwilling to have someone else transport him, he decides to travel on a vintage 1966 tractor with a specially fitted trailer. The slower mode of transport allows him to meet a variety of folks along the way, including a sulky runaway, a kindly couple and a fellow WWII vet. Lynch seems to enjoy conveying the quirkiness of these salt-of-the-earth folk, but it’s rarely condescending. The film is rather slow and talky at times, but Farnsworth delivers an excellent performance, aided by Sissy Spacek as his learning-disabled daughter. I also enjoyed the long, loving pans of midwestern farmland, the homey soundtrack, and the bit with the woman who was distraught at her car hitting a deer
The Thirteenth Guest (1932). A harmless little quickie, this early Monogram Studios production has Ginger Rogers in one of her earliest roles as a young woman who revisits an old house left vacant from a party she attended 13 years earlier. At the party, various members of a family were invited to find out who inherited the mansion owner’s estate, but the 13th guest failed to show up – and the host croaked. All these years later, someone is murdering the other guests. Will detective Lyle Talbot find the killer before Ginger and the rest become worm food? Silly, hard to follow, occasionally fun. The nicest thing about films of these vintage is that they’re short — barely over an hour, in this case.
A Little Bird Told Me
It’s Sunday night, we just finished cleaning out our back room after it flooded (long story), and I just don’t feel like writing the Flick Clique. I’m going to work on it tomorrow. Please check out the Los Angeles Feb. 2012 set on Flickr, with the following souvenir that I got from the Kinokuniya store in Japantown.
Flickr Friday: Me ‘n Henry Moore
I’ve uploaded some of my favorite pics from our recent Los Angeles trip in a flickr set – the Burbank and Getty days were set up today, and I will get to the Sherman Oaks/Downtown/Palm Springs pics later on this weekend.
Flick Clique: March 18-24
Corman’s World: Exploits of a Hollywood Rebel (2011). Great documentary on esteemed schlock movie producer Roger Corman. This wasn’t particularly revealing or deep, but it’s a fast-paced and enjoyable combo profile/career retrospective. DVD Talk review is here (I see it got a nice write-up in the new Entertainment Weekly, too).
Deadline at Dawn (1946) and Backfire (1950). These two films shared a disc on the Warner Bros. Film Noir Classics Vol. 5 set from a few years back. A crack RKO production, Deadline at Dawn has wide-eyed sailor Bill Williams and cynical dancing girl Susan Hayward tramping about third-shift Manhattan attempting to solve the murder of a woman with whom Williams shared a few badly-timed moments (not to mention a big wad of cash). The story is a little too out-there to be truly believable, but I found the film enjoyable enough. Hayward is excellent, and Williams was quite the cutie back then (some of his good looks were inherited by his son, William Katt). The Warner Bros. production Backfire also had a gritty appeal, although the film wasn’t nearly as engaging. This one concerns a hospitalized serviceman (hunky Gordon MacRae) who sees a vision of a mysterious dark-haired woman in the night. He convinces his nurse girlfriend Virginia Mayo that the woman has something to do with the unexplained disappearance of his best friend, Edmund O’Brien. The two decide to play amateur detectives and uncover a mess of underworld activity in the L.A. area, which eventually leads to O’Brien’s whereabouts. Nicely paced, attractively cast, and having that vintage W.B. style, but the film never really comes together in a satisfying whole.
Escape from the Planet of the Apes (1971) and Conquest of the Planet of the Apes (1972). Having never seen any of the older Planet of the Apes movies besides the original, I put these on the DVR when they showed up on ThisTV. I figured these two sequels were probably pretty cheesy anyhow, so what difference would a few commercial breaks and a pan-n-scan picture make? Escape was actually pretty fun, with the first film’s Cornelius (Roddy McDowall) and Zira (Kim Hunter) going through a time warp and winding up curiosities – and eventual media celebrities – in ’70s Los Angeles. A cheap production (it looks like a TV movie), but McDowall and Hunter contribute good performances underneath all that ape makeup and the silly story (with Zira getting pregnant and the U.S. Feds, fearful of an intelligent ape population, to hold them captive) has just enough intrigue to keep it watchable. Loved Jerry Goldsmith’s campy and delightfully dated score, too. Conquest returns the series to deadly-serious mode, with Cornelius and Zira’s grown son (also played by McDowall) coming to terms with a 1991 America in which the apes have replaced cats and dogs (who were eradicated by a virus) as humankind’s pets/servants. Heavy handed and boring.
No Man of Her Own (1950). An old favorite with Barbara Stanwyck as a destitute single mom who adopts another woman’s identity (in a story that seems to have foreshadowed every film produced by Lifetime Television). I was delighted to find that it’s getting a DVD reissue from Olive Films this month. My DVD Talk review is here.
Out of Sight (1998). You remember this one, right? One of the more acclaimed films of the ’90s concerned the pursuit/flirtation between George Clooney’s suave career criminal and Jennifer Lopez’s tough U.S. Marshall. Although it’s overlong and doesn’t quite hang together sometimes, I found this as excellently written and cast as everybody said. I didn’t quite believe Clooney, but he was charming all the same. Lopez was shockingly good (whatever happened to her movie career, anyhow?). I also loved the supporting players – all of them! This is the kind of film that has talented actors occupying every little corner (including Viola Davis as the consort of one of the thugs Lopez is tailing). Director Stephen Soderbergh employs a fascinating flash back/forward technique here, establishing contrasting moods between the characters and the places they occupy – check out the differences between Miami and Detroit. The film has its share of padded-out scenes (like the Clooney/Lopez seduction), but overall it was successful.
Flickr Saturday: Olde Books
The photos in this Flickr Saturday come courtesy of our new neighbor, Kendall. Since telling her about LitKids, she let me borrow some of these children’s books of yore from her library. These books date from about 1895-1920 and are great examples of the charming illustration/typography that was favored back then. They’re also fun to read – I’m currently checking out Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm on the Kindle and it’s a sweet story with an endearingly cute heroine. A sampling from the Olde Books Flickr set is below.
It’s a ’90s Thang
Dave Steed of Popdose has been doing a weekly exploration of vintage 1990s Bottom Feeders, songs that peaked at #41-100 in the Billboard Hot 100, for a couple of months now. Part 11, covering Brooks & Dunn through Tracy Byrd, has just been posted. Since I generally like most ’90s music except for the twangiest of Country and the most gangsta of Hip-Hop, there’s been a lot to enjoy. The neatest find so far has been this sly, Fugees-like cover of “Bohemian Rhapsody” by a female R&B duo known as The Braids. The single made it all the way to #42 in 1996 – so why is it so hard to believe I’d never heard of it until 2012?
Flick Clique: March 11-17
Dick Tracy, Detective (1945) and Dick Tracy Meets Gruesome (1947). We didn’t really have anything to watch last Monday night, so we made a double feature out of these two b-movies RKO did in the ’40s starring Chester Gould’s hook-nosed police detective. Although they don’t get anywhere near capturing the jazzy/ghoulish flavor of the comic, both Detective and Meets Gruesome are workmanlike, occasionally fun b-mysteries. Detective, with Tracy tracking down the common thread amongst several murders of people from varying backgrounds, has the more intriguing story and better pacing of the two. Morgan Conway is bland beyond belief as Tracy, but I enjoyed the salty Tess Trueheart played by Anne Jeffreys. Meets Gruesome‘s more cartoonish plot concerns a smoke which rendered anyone who smells it immobile, which a gang of criminals form into a bomb to help them rob a bank. The investigation by intrepid Tracy, now embodied by the more capable Ralph Byrd (who originated the role in the 1930s serial edition Tracy – are you taking notes?), leads him to Boris Karloff’s menacing ex-con Gruesome. Karloff is a hoot, but the film suffers from glacial pacing and I couldn’t get past all the goofy character names (I.M. Learned – really?). Both of these public domain goodies were on the Mystery Classics 50 Movie DVD set.
Keaton Plus (2004 DVD). This was a DVD that I came across at the local library – it consists of odds and ends involving Buster Keaton that Kino didn’t put on the other discs containing the silent legend’s films and shorts. Exactly the kind of stuff we dig! Overall, the disc is inconsistent but fascinating. The best parts are the films and fragments from his peak, including the short Ten Girls Ago. There are also two shorts he did in the mid-’30s, which are fun but not nearly as inventive, a fragment of an unreleased 1962 comedy, vintage commercials, tributes, photos and more. Probably the most absorbing part has Keaton historian John Bengston outlining various Los Angeles and San Francisco locales Keaton used in his shorts, with now-and-then photos. Tributes from Orson Welles, Gloria Swanson and Lillian Gish offer a neat glimpse into how silent films were repackaged for TV in the ’60s and ’70s. Not everything on this disc is great, but we had a ball combing through it.
Stagecoach (1939). The other disc that I picked up at the library (we recently dumped Netflix streaming, so I’m looking for alternatives). As I previously noted, the local library has a few dozen Criterion DVDs (with booklets and everything) in their stacks. Stagecoach is one of those classic classics that I’ve mysteriously never gotten around to seeing before. Though I’m not normally a fan of Westerns or John Wayne, I found myself swept into this one. John Ford really had a gift for doing engaging characters who interact in a realistic way. Loved Thomas Mitchell and Donald Meek, but probably my fave was Claire Trevor as hooker-with-a-hear-o-gold Dallas. As an IMDb user aptly stated: “She was a very real, honest actress. I never get a sense of phoniness when Claire Trevor is on the screen. She gives a remarkable performance in Stagecoach.” The film seems to be anticlimactic after the expertly staged Apache ambush scene, and the score is overbearing and badly dated, but otherwise it was a terrific ensemble piece. I can’t get enough of John Wayne’s iconic first appearance, in which the camera zooms in, goes out of focus momentarly, then settles on Wayne blinking just after the focus comes back. That’s star quality! The Criterion DVD of Stagecoach also included a quaint but interesting early John Ford silent, Bucking Broadway from 1917.
Iwant and Gimme
Vintage video dept… a helpful YouTube user has uploaded two commercial breaks from a 1976 episode of Bozo’s Circus, the long-running kiddie show on Chicago’s WGN. Although I never saw this particular program, the commercials are a hoot and total blast of nostalgia. I was eight years old at the time, the perfect age for Lucky Charms cereal and that super-cool hovering Star Trek thingie (we had something similar, although I think it was a normal helicopter and not the U.S. Enterprise). The popcorn with oil and salt in a separate pouch also looks intriguing.
In this second commercial break, what stands out for me is the nice animation on the Cap’n Crunch commercial – a step up from the usual Hanna-Barbera fare of the time (do you recognize June Foray’s voice, too?). Although I remember the Magician Mickey toy, the build-it-yourself plastic straw kit wound up getting lost in the sands of time, for good reason. What a weird toy!
P.S. The title for this post comes from the affectionate nicknames that my grandmother gave my mom and aunt when they were young tykes. Totally appropos, for sure.
Flick Clique: March 4-10
Bits ‘n pieces on the films I watched the week before: Anastasia (1956; *** of five), seen just before Netflix streaming dropped it, plushly produced, moribund, talky, liked Ingrid, loved Helen Hayes. Classe Tous Risques (1960; ****), absorbing French film noir, gritty, realistic. Bag It (2010; ****), good documentary with a smug protagonist, my DVD Talk review goes into it a whole lot more.
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008). For our new blu-ray player, I wanted to get something special to try it out. I ended up buying Criterion’s The Curious Case of Bemjamin Button for several reasons: I like David Fincher’s films, and this particular one I haven’t yet seen; it was the only used Criterion blu at our local used CD/DVD/everything else store; it had a ton of interesting-looking extras; what better way to break in the blu than a recent, gorgeously photographed (but somewhat flawed) film? Even though it was long and overproduced, I ended up being absorbed by this unwieldy beast of a film. I think what makes it work is Fincher’s attention to detail, and he does wring out some excellent work from Brad Pitt, Cate Blanchett and Taraji P. Henson. The aging effects makeup varies wildly from obvious to subtle, and the CGI with an elderly-looking Pitt’s face plastered on small, hobbled bodies is still pretty amazing. Overall, the film is more a series of vignettes than a cohesive whole, with some parts working beautifully although not quite fitting in (the backwards clock saga) and others seeming stagy and overwrought – like the framing scenes with a dying Cate dealing with adult daughter Julia Ormond in a hospital as a hurricane approaches. These scenes came across like little more than a classy version of The Notebook, but where The Notebook is a trashy little paperback whose cover sports raised gold lettering, Benjamin is a two-ton coffee table book chockablock full of visually resplendent images. I’m glad I got this, and the making-of stuff is even more fascinating than the final product.
Fresh (2009). Workmanlike documentary is something of an adjunct to the better-made Food, Inc. Whereas Food, Inc. explores the commodification of America’s agriculture and the shocking ways our food is processed, packaged, subsidized and consumed, Fresh turns a more optimistic eye towards organic farming and the ways in which the enterprising few are bucking the system. I though it was pretty good, with some rather sad footage of industrial farms contrasted with more bucolic chickens, cows, etc. enjoying themselves. Although it’s a noble enterprise, certain parts feel second-hand (re-employing several of Food, Inc.‘s talking heads) and despite its short length it feels padded out. I will have a more comprehensive review posted at DVD Talk this week.
Invictus (2009). Put this on my Netflix queue eons ago because — we saw the giant-sized poster in Burbank? Or perhaps I wanted to see Matt Damon bulked-up and wearing short shorts? Whatever the reason, we sat through this cliché-ridden living history/inspirational sports story this weekend. I tend to run hot and cold with the Clint Eastwood films. Some of the stuff he’s directed has been absorbing although strangely clinical (Changeling), or beautifully mounted and kinda ponderous (Letters from Iwo Jima). Invictus is probably the worst Clint flick I’ve seen. In telling the story of Nelson Mandela’s efforts to boost South Africa’s national morale by gently guiding the country’s rugby team (coached by a befuddled-looking Damon) to victory, it labors to be both a historic narrative and a rousing sports flick and fails on both counts. He gets some decent performances from Morgan Freeman and Matt Damon; the main problem is a dull script filled with shallowly defined characters (racist bodyguards, petulant rugby players, etc.) and interminable game scenes that are a cipher to anyone who doesn’t know rugby. As far as I can tell, rugby is a sexy, manly sport — certainly someone could make a good movie out of that (including locker room/shower footage).
Riding on Air (1937). Immediately after finishing Benjamin Button, I was yearning for something light, fun and old – so I dug out this hoary RKO b-flick from my cheapo public domain comedies DVD set. Riding on Air was one of the first films the athletic, cavern-mouthed Joe E. Brown did after concluding his stretch as a top Warner Bros. comedy star. Here, Brown plays Elmer Lane, a small town newspaper editor/amateur aviator whose (somewhat obnoxious) pursuit of the latest scoop lands him in trouble with bootlegging criminals. Rather dumb, forgettable film with an inscrutable plot. In his Warner comedies, I always found Brown enjoyable in a goofy way (Alibi Ike is perhaps the best); this film demonstrates what a difference good scripts and a competent production make. Leading lady Florence Rice is pleasant, otherwise this is recommended only for Joe E. Brown fanatics (are there any?).
Summer Hours (2008). Gently paced slice-of-life familial drama of an aged French woman (Edith Scob) who regularly invites her grown children and their offspring for gatherings at the country estate owned by her late uncle, a famous artist. Having just celebrated her 75th birthday, she gets together with her eldest son Frédéric (Charles Berling) to talk about how to deal with her estate and the valuable art/furniture it holds after she passes on. Frédéric begs off the discussion. When the woman subsequently dies, Frédéric is committed to keeping the collection and estate in the family. His decidedly less sentimental siblings Adrienne (Juliette Binoche) and Jérémie (Jérémie Renier) have a more realistic outlook, however, which ultimately prevails. Subtle, nicely acted film. This isn’t a film where a lot of exciting stuff happens (Frédéric’s daughter getting busted for pot possession is probably the most drama-filled moment), but it does deal sensitively and realistically with what likely happens in a lot of families. It’s also a great film about the beauty of objects and the perceptions that they hold – this is nicely illustrated in the scene where the old woman’s longtime housekeeper decides to keep one humble memento of her employer – a hand-blown glass vase which, unbeknownst to her, is a valuable antique.
Flickr Friday: Groovy ’60s Greeting Cards
Greetings and apologies for the site outage over the past week (did anybody even notice? I wonder). My website has been moved to a new web host, and there was a significant delay in transferring the MySQL system data that holds the backup info for this very blog. But now it’s done, and I’m relieved. What this means for you, dear reader, is that the weblog will load much smoother and there won’t be any tech difficulties in posting comments and such. If you’re reading this, please don’t hesitate to say “hello” in the comment field!
Now that we have that out of the way, let’s look at the two marvelous vintage greeting cards I found on our recent thrifting jaunt in Palm Springs. Both of these are likely from the late ’60s, and are printed with a day-glo pink color that my scanner couldn’t quite pick up. Our first card is actually kind of lovely, since the cartoon illustration was printed on yellow ocher-colored paper using bright silk screened inks. This was produced by a company called Velvetone and the cartoon is signed “Camden,” otherwise I can’t find any info on it. Can you tell what it says inside?
a big THANKS!
Our next card is from a maker called Reed Starline. I originally thought was a vintage Hallmark (the goofy cartoon looks similar to a lot of older cards that Hallmark has been re-printing lately). Again with the day-glo pink, although the cartoon looks more Mad magazine-y:
*PICTURE OF ME GOING HOG WILD OVER YOU
Flickr Friday: Disneyland Aluminum Hall of Fame Brochure
For Flickr Friday, I’m sharing a bit of that vintage Disneyland brochure that I picked up at the antique mall in Sherman Oaks during our recent L.A. trip. This brochure is from the Kaiser Aluminum Hall of Fame, one of the corporate-sponsored attractions that was quickly shoehorned into Tomorrowland in time for the park’s grand opening in July 1955. Although I couldn’t find much information on the Hall of Fame on the web, thanks to Daveland I now know that lasted in the park for five years, with Kaiser cutting their contract with Disney short since they felt the Disneyland TV show had inappropriately used competing sponsors.
In keeping with the science class-y nature of early Tomorrowland, the walk-though exhibit guided parkgoers through the wondrous process of making aluminum. This is illustrated in the brochure with nifty midcentury modern drawings like these:
Aluminum is poured into a rough form known as “pigs,” from which all our favorite aluminum stuff is made. Remember, you will be tested on this. According to Daveland, the attraction had a pig mascot named KAP (Kaiser Aluminum Pig). The 40 foot-long telescope at the center of the attraction looked as if it could slice someone’s limb open, if they weren’t careful.
With an optimistic look at what other Disneyland attractions used Kaiser aluminum on the brochure’s back cover, that concludes our visit to one of the more educational corners of The Happiest Place On Earth™.
Going Gaga for Zsa Zsa
In honor of my review of Dahling: A Tribute to Zsa Zsa Gabor being published at DVD Talk, let’s enjoy Ms. Gabor singing “High Heeled Sneakers” on Shindig!:
OK, so she couldn’t sing, but could she act? Here she is showing that continental flair in a commercial for Lawry’s Seasoned Salt from the same period. I think I’d enjoy noshing on a hamburger with Zsa Zsa.
