The cover of this Disneyland Holiday, featuring the marvy Monsanto House of the Future, can be seen further below.

Doing commercials in Japan has long been a dirty little secret for celebrities who want to cash in without spoiling their image in the West — pre-Internet, at least. I believe the scenes with Bill Murray struggling through a liquor commercial shoot in Lost In Translation slammed the lid shut on that stuff, but then I could be wrong. Are today’s celebs still shilling Japanese crap? Mull it over while watching circa 1990 Alyssa Milano hawking a chocolate drink while dancing to one of her Debbie Gibson-like tunes:

Sophie Scholl: The Final Days (2007). A wonderful choice from my fab spouse, Christopher. From the title I was expecting a dry, documentary like account of some dead lady from World War II; in reality it’s a powerful and beautifully acted portrait of a woman who was the very model of standing up for one’s own convictions. Sophie Scholl was a student who took part in the White Rose underground anti-Fascist movement in WWII Germany. While secretly distributing leaflets with her brother, Hans, and another classmate, she was arrested, interrogated and tried by the SS in a humiliating display meant to defer other subversives. This is an absorbing film with an intense performance by actress Julia Jentsch as Sophie. The film sags a bit during the interrogation scenes, with Jentsch and fellow actor Gerald Alexander Held in a quiet, overplayed sparring that verges into My Nazi Interrogation with André territory. It rebounds beautifully, however, in the scenes following with Scholl touchingly discussing her personal life with a fellow prisoner (played by Johanna Gastdorf, also good). Great film. I must also mention actor Fabian Hinrichs as Sophie’s brother Hans — no relation, but how could someone with that rocking name not be great?

Stallion Road (1947). A big week in the homestead, as we sadly got rid of Turner Classic Movies. I’ll always love TCM, but when we exchanged our wallet-sucking DirecTV satellite service for a streamlined TiVo that picks up local HD channels and streamed Netflix, it was a no-brainer. We will definitely get our classic movie fix via DVDs and other sources, but in the meantime I needed some decent TCM fare to close out (something better than the wretched Jeanne Eagels, at least). This genial horsey drama looked like an intriguing enough choice. Starring Ronald Reagan, Alexis Smith and Zachary Scott, this was standard Warner Bros. melodrama of its time — typical, but professionally done and watchable. Set in contemporary California ranch land, this film goes into familiar soapy territory with Smith as the confident lady rancher who has both studly vet Reagan and visiting novelist Scott wanting to get into her jodhpurs. In the meantime we get treated to a horse jumping competition, an improbable restaurant brawl and an anthrax scare. Reagan is his usual boring self (“white bread” are the two most apt words for the man), but I enjoyed Smith and it was great to see Scott cast as something besides a loathsome cad. A nice farewell to TCM, which really needs to get into the 21st century and start a paid, Netflix-like streaming service. I’d do that in a heartbeat!
Towelhead (2007). I had high hopes for this provocative drama scripted and directed by Six Feet Under creator Alan Ball — this despite the film getting mixed to bad reviews when it came out. Based on Alicia Erian’s autobiographical novel, this film concerns a 13 year old Lebanese-American girl (Summer Bishil, very good in a demanding role) who is blossoming sexually while dealing with quarreling, recently divorced parents, ignorant classmates, and a predatory next door neighbor played by Aaron Eckhart. Topping it all off is the fact that it takes place in the 1990-91 buildup to the first Gulf War — in suburban Texas! This is a well intentioned and nicely produced film with notable work by Bishil, Eckhart and Peter Macdissi (memorable as Claire’s slimy art professor in Six Feet Under) as Bishil’s menacing dad. I also really dug the film’s production design, which seems to capture the mundanities of early ’90s suburbia in a subtle and effective way (hair scrunchies, bulky sweaters, etc.). The main problem I had, and this is a huge one, was the film’s lack of sympathetic characters. Bishil strikes a proper numbed out note, but she doesn’t have enough depth to carry the more despicable people in support. It makes the squeamish nature of the sex scenes more uncomfortable than they ought to be. While I don’t have a problem with the subject matter (in fact, teen sexuality isn’t explored enough in a mature way — on film or otherwise), the abhorrent characters make the whole thing seem more exploitative than provocative. It really says something that when Toni Collette’s hippie-ish neighbor shows up to aid Bishil, she comes across like a shrill busybody. An object lesson in “not the intended message” filmmaking.

Onward to the latest semi-forgotten industrial film of the past. 1969′s R.F.D. Greenwich Village is a tranquil ode to the bohemian youth of NYC and their seemingly endless supply of wide wale corduroy fashions. This sort of cinema vérité documentary-cum-advertisement shares a lot of similarities with Every Girl’s Dream, another short produced by the Cotton Producers Association a few years earlier. In that film, a young woman (Nancy Bernard, 1966′s Maid of Cotton) tours a run-down, deserted MGM studio lot while wearing an assortment of fresh cotton daytime wear. The short also contains some great wardrobe tests of Doris Day modeling costumes from The Glass Bottom Boat. This priceless short isn’t viewable online, but whoever programs Turner Classic Movies seems to enjoy playing it in the gaps between features.

Surprisingly, one can still find many of these fixtures in bowling alleys all over. And part two:

What really grabbed me about these are the illustrations, image after image of Barbie-esque ladies looking all elegant and chi-chi — and there’s a lot of them. The drawings appear to be by several artists, and they’re all so good that I’ve scanned several and placed them in their own flickr set. It contains 50 photos as of now, and that’s only covering the first volume. Some highlights below. Note the carefully positioned feet on the first woman:

James Likeks’ tribute to the oddly named Gobbler Hotel in Wisconsin is a study in contrasts. Compare the space-age renderings (above) with the actual hotel in its prime — and the ’70s era structure with the sad, outdated ghost of a hotel shortly before it got demolished. Thanks to Lileks, now everybody can appreciate the Playboy After Dark grooviness of it all. The Gobbler’s architect, Helmut Ajango, is apparently still living and working in the same state as his own now-defunct creation.

Although Elmo does briefly appear near the end (not speaking, thank heavens), overall the movie offers a sweet and gentle peek into the hermetically sealed world of Sesame Street as it existed in 1985. The thin plot kicks off with Big Bird getting adopted out to a family of muppet dodo birds by a busybody social worker named Miss Finch (voiced by Sally Kellerman). Not being happy in Dodo’s prefab suburban birdhouse, our feathered friend decides to walk his way back home across America’s rural landscape — will the other Sesame Streeters ever find him and take him back home?

If there’s a central message to SSP:FTB, it might be that city dwelling is the only true way to live. As this film has it, even the friendliest of country folk have a certain dark something to hide. Just look at some of the shady characters who turn up: a creepy singing truck driver (Waylon Jennings). A surly, salad-throwing waitress (Sandra Bernhard). Two sadistic carnival operators (SCTV‘s Dave Thomas and Joe Flaherty). Not to mention the pair of frighteningly generic farm kids who want to adopt Big Bird, probably to subject him to some kind of Children of the Corn thing.

Which brings me to another nagging element in this movie — everything is so clean. Despite the Americana setting, this movie was filmed entirely in Ontario, Canada. It’s odd to see country roads without billboards and trash everywhere. Worse yet, the re-created outdoor Sesame Street set looks so spotless one could eat right off Oscar the Grouch’s can. Where’s the grittiness?

The Follow that Bird DVD is presented in pan-and-scan full frame with no extras to speak of. Those looking for a salty commentary by an out-of-character Caroll Spinney (“John Candy was a bitch”) will be sorely disappointed. Despite that, I succumbed to its sweetness. Read the rest of the 2nd Annual White Elephant Film Blogathon.