Flick Clique: October 9-15
Contagion (2011). A modern update on the all-star disaster epics of the ’70s, this is. We saw Contagion in the theater last week, and every time an audience member coughed (which was often), I got chills. Steven Soderbergh’s film chronicles what might happen if a lethal virus capable of knocking out 25% of the world’s population broke out. Some viewers were disappointed that it wasn’t an actioner like the trailer promised, but I found it effective the way the tension gently escalates as the virus goes from clusters of the sick to worldwide epidemic. The film begins with Gwyneth Paltrow’s business woman coming down with a bug on a return trip from Hong Kong. Coming home to husband Matt Damon, she gets sick and expires so quickly that it barely registers with Damon. Their child soon gets the virus and dies, then Damon is put under quarantine. Meanwhile, other lethal cases are spreading in Hong Kong. Lawrence Fishburn at the CDC sends Kate Winslet to investigate the rash of infections in Minneapolis (where Paltrow and Damon live), while World Heath Organization official Marion Cotillard is sent to Hong Kong. As the sickness spreads into a panic, a crusading blogger (Jude Law) investigates whether the virus was planted by the government, or worse (this film is not very nice to bloggers, natch). Excellent atmosphere and performances, especially from Winslet and Jennifer Ehle as a CDC doctor attempting to decipher the rapidly mutating virus. If anything, the film is pro-government but anti-regulation. It seems to have faith in the good characters like Damon and Winslet keeping things sane for the hysteric masses. The only negative thing I found was the Cotillard storyline, which seemed a bit tacked-on and routine. She’s excellent, however. I also loved the tense, minimalist synth-based score by Cliff Martinez.
Sadko (1953). Whatta trip — the 1953 adventure Sadko was a colorful retelling of the Sinbad story with a grandiose, distinctively Russian visual style. We saw the dubbed U.S. version, titled The Magic Voyage of Sinbad. The movie plods a lot, and the print we saw was muddy. Strange and surreal, it reminded me of the MST3K episode Jack Frost (as it turns out, Sinbad was also given the MST3K treatment). The film details bearded do-gooder Sinbad as he attempts to help the comrades in his small Russian village by catching magic fish and the like. He gathers a motley band of men as they journey to India to find an ethereal creature with the body of a hawk and the head of a woman. On the way back, Sinbad has a sojourn in Neptune’s underwater kingdom, when he is forced into marriage with Neptune’s beautiful daughter. Eventually they get back to Russia and all is well. This has potential to be a camp riot — and it is, in spots — but mostly it’s strange, with outsized acting and inconsistent pacing. It does have some gorgeous visuals to recommend it, however (those shots of the Phoenix woman in her cave are unforgettable). I’d love to see a restored version of the Russian original. Criterion, are you listening?
The Wolf Man (1941) and Dead of Night (1945). We spent most of last week on the road, going to various spots in Northern Arizona. It didn’t leave much time for movie viewing, but we did manage to check out some good vintage stuff when Turner Classic Movies (which I still miss!) had a 1940s horror film fest on October 10. Amazingly, I’ve never seen The Wolf Man. It’s a short, tight, excellent example of Hollywood studio craft of that era. I could carp at Lon Chaney Jr.’s vagueness as the title character, but he’s given great support by Claude Rains, Maria Ouspenskaya, Ralph Bellamy and Warren William (really?). Universal really knew how to conjure up atmosphere with smoke, gnarled trees and a few old Euro-style sets. The only quibble I have is that it’s too brisk, leaving the film with a rushed feeling. We stepped out for dinner during the next film, The Uninvited, but got back in time to catch all of the crack British anthology Dead of Night. This was quite an interesting film, with a bunch of mini-stories connected by the character of a nervous architect (Mervyn Jones) who is certain that he’s already met all the residents at a country estate that he innocently stumbles into. The stories themselves are hit or miss, but I enjoyed checking out the more muted, creepy-crawly tone set forth in this very British take on the haunted house genre. Among the better segments is one with Googie Withers as a lady who buys an antique mirror for husband Michael Cortland, which turns out to be haunted. Another good one has Sally Ann Howes as a Christmas party guest who discovers a crying child in the attic of a mysterious house. The most memorable sequence concerns a creepy ventriloquist played by Michael Redgrave — which is a funny coincidence, since I’m reviewing a documentary on ventriloquists for DVD Talk. Thank you, Best Western, for having TCM in the rooms!
Piggies
Before we took in Contagion at the theater today, this animated commercial for the Mexican food chain Chipotle was playing. As they describe it:
The film, by film-maker Johnny Kelly, depicts the life of a farmer as he slowly turns his family farm into an industrial animal factory before seeing the errors of his ways and opting for a more sustainable future. Both the film and the soundtrack were commissioned by Chipotle to emphasize the importance of developing a sustainable food system.
It’s totally charming, and the Willie Nelson song playing on it adds a haunting edge to the cute-style animation.
Phoebe and Franklin
I don’t have a Flick Clique this week. Sorry ’bout that – I spent much of yesterday afternoon working on the Ma & Pa Kettle Complete Comedy Collection review at DVD Talk. Please check it out. Ma and Pa Kettle’s first names make up the title of this post, by the way.
This weekend was also busy due to it being my birthday. I wanted to celebrate by playing Goofy Golf — since, really, is there anything more pleasurable (pants on division)? Christopher took me to our local mini golf ‘n game emporium and we had a blast.
Pishtosh, Bullwash & Wimple
Jim Flora is a great artist who made a lot of wacky, gorgeous album covers in the ’50s. He also illustrated a few books that are out of print, and extremely hard to find. While looking through the kiddie bookshelves at the Deseret thrift store in Mesa last weekend, I saw a blue hardback with the name “James Flora” printed on the spine. The book was a good condition copy of Flora’s 1972 tome Pishtosh, Bullwash & Wimple. For only 99 cents.
This is such a sweet book. I wasn’t aware that Flora did commercial illustration into the ’70s. Some photos of this thrift store treasure have been posted in my flickr photostream.
Flick Clique: September 25 – October 2
Caught (1948). I’ve been curious about this film ever since reading about it in Entertainment Weekly 20 (!!) years ago. One of the few American flicks helmed by European Max Ophüls, Caught details the story of good girl Barbara Bel Geddes, who is first seen gathering her meager savings for a charm school class that may someday snag her a rich husband. On her job as a department store model, she meets the associate of a rich industrialist who invites her to an exclusive party on a yacht. She reluctantly agrees to go, but arriving late at a dock she meets ruddy sailor man Robert Ryan — who winds up being the rich, rather eccentric man holding the party. The two date and get married, but Bel Geddes finds herself trapped in a huge home with a workaholic who doesn’t care much for her. She escapes to New York City, finds a little apartment, and gets a menial job as a secretary for two doctors. One of her employers, James Mason, falls for Bel Geddes, who faces the choice of escaping again or exposing her secret. More of a tense melodrama than a true film noir like I hoped, but I found the film fascinating nonetheless. Bel Geddes is wonderfully natural — at least up until her character got maddeningly passive. I loved her relaxed interplay with James Mason (best seen in the nightclub scene below). This also has some cool camera work from Ophüls. Ryan is wonderfully menacing as the husband, a character supposedly based on Howard Hughes. This film is available on Netflix streaming — quite a treat if you have that service.
Climates (2006). I added this Turkish drama to my Netflix queue a few years ago, probably because it was acclaimed at the Cannes film festival that year. It’s a sensitive, deliberately paced drama about an upper middle class Istanbul couple played by director Nuri Bilge Ceylan and his real life wife, Ebru Ceylan. The film’s essence is encapsulated early on in a scene that’s an uninterrupted take showing Ms. Ceylan staring off into the distance, a single tear falling down her cheek. We see the couple’s relationship falling apart, the man not comprehending as the woman’s emotions spiral out of control. They separate, then the man (in a creepy scene) forces himself upon an old friend. The woman accepts another job in a smaller town, then the man follows her in a pursuit that is awkward and uncomfortable to watch. This was a beautifully photographed film, but I couldn’t truly get into it because the characters ended up being so vague — and ultimately unappealing. By film’s end, you wish the woman grew a spine much earlier and avoided putting up with this creep.
The Final Destination (2009). Fourth and lamest of the Final Destination films. Like the other F.D. flicks, this one follows a teen who has visions of his friends’ deaths which somehow portend their own early, ever-complicated ends. The lackluster script and lazy dependence on cheap CGI in this one puts it more on the cheesy level of cable TV’s 1,000 Ways To Die — which is about 1,000 times more fun than this sorry mess.
Ma & Pa Kettle (1949), Ma & Pa Kettle Go to Town (1950), Ma & Pa Kettle at the Fair (1952), Ma & Pa Kettle on Vacation (1953) and Ma & Pa Kettle at Home (1954). Seven down, three to go in the Kettle movie-a-thon (I’m reviewing a set of their complete filmography for DVD Talk). Remember, this is the comedy franchise with wonderful Marjorie Main and Percy Kilbride as the parents of an unruly brood of 15 kids in Washington state (not the deep South, as I previously thought). The Kettle films tend to work better if they stay with the family and their oddball neighbors — whenever they take off to a far-off locale (as in Go to Town or Vacation), the movies tend to get pokey. The original Ma & Pa Kettle is a fun little outing in which the family wins a dream home in a jingle-writing contest that Pa entered — and probably all most casual viewers would want. Digging deeper, I’m finding that I’m enjoying these flicks. Universal Studios didn’t lavish a lot of money on them, but they are efficiently directed, fast paced and breezy affairs that one could consume like potato chips. If there’s a bad one in the bunch, just move on and you will find a good one. My favorites so far are At The Fair, which contains probably the funniest, most sitcom-esque gags in the series, and the first Ma & Pa Kettle. I also found a lot to like with the strangely sedate At Home, a film whose climactic Christmas party scene presents the family as a well-adjusted and even downright normal bunch. Go to Town is routine and On Vacation is entirely skippable, but even those have the marvelous chemistry of Main and Kilbride to recommend. I’m curious to see what the final two entries, minus Kilbride, will be like.
A Rage to Live (1965). This adaptation of a pulpy best seller by John O’Hara held a lot of promise as a campy delight; it ends up being a serious examination of a young woman’s sexuality that generally works thanks to a sensitive performance by Suzanne Pleshette. The gorgeous Pleshette plays Grace Caldwell, an heiress whose out-of-control libido has the people in her town pegging her as a slut (sometimes the truth, sometimes inflated by gossip). She meets nice young man Bradford Dillman at a holiday party and the two hit it off. They marry and have a child, but the tranquil family life is shattered with the reappearance of Ben Gazarra as a construction worker who once had a casual acquaintance with Pleshette. Will they have an affair and start the town talking? A soapy delight that is let down by an unsatisfactory ending, but Pleshette is great. I got a kick out of the scenes with her and Peter Graves as the married newspaper editor who has the hots for her — Emily Hartley and Jim Phelps having a forbidden tryst? No way!
Who’s the Boss?
I’m sticking this one up since I’ve been grooving to Diana Ross’ 1980 LP diana today (not to be confused with 1970′s Diana Ross, or 1976′s Diana Ross, or 1978′s Ross. Miss Ross had a thing for egotistical album titles, eh?). Back when that album first came out, she did a TV special with Michael Jackson that I have vague memories of. Thanks to YouTube, I’ve found some of it.
I remember the footage of Diana and Michael doing “Upside Down” in concert, but this segment of Miss D. and Larry Hagman crooning together is totally new to me. Yeeks!
Flick Clique: September 18-21
Amer (2009). A lot of raves have been filed on this recent, stylized take on Italian Gallo horror films of the ’70s from filmmakers Hélène Cattet and Bruno Forzani. The film is divided into three impressionistic segments featuring the same character as a young girl, an adolescent and an adult woman. I don’t want to get into too much detail here (my DVDTalk take should be filed soon), but it’s certainly a unique film. Actually, the lack of dialogue and overly stylized photography (lots of closeups, especially of eyes, lips and other body parts) makes it more reminiscent of abstract, experimental filmmakers like Maya Deren and Kenneth Anger than anything else. There are a few frightening/bizarre moments, but the film is mostly a hollow exercise in style over substance. I wasn’t too impressed, and I will be articulating my feelings more in the actual review (which will hopefully be done by Friday).
The Asphalt Jungle (1950). A film noir classic that, surprisingly, I haven’t caught until this past week. A complex story, hard to get into at first, becomes absorbing over a tense 90 minutes thanks to vivid characters and John Huston’s crackling dialogue. The story concerns a brilliant, recently sprung criminal mastermind (Sam Jaffee) who wants to pull of one last heist before retiring. He employs a colorful array of men to abscond with some valuable jewels in a vault — burly tough guy Sterling Hayden, safe cracker Anthony Caruso and lookout James Whitmore. The heist is generally a success, but complications arise when Jaffe and crew take the jewels to Louis Calhern as the wealthy lawyer who agreed to buy them. Calhern is short on cash, and the men are left scrambling to basically fend for themselves. Most of what people know of The Asphalt Jungle is that it’s one of Marilyn Monroe’s earliest roles, and she’s pretty good as Calhern’s opportunistic mistress. The other performers are just as good if not better, however — Sterling Hayden rocks, and Jean Hagen contributes a vulnerable turn as Hayden’s boozy girlfriend. Jaffee, Calhern and Whitmore are also excellent. The story unfolds in a great way to a terrific ending, too.
Eating Out: Drama Camp (2011). This was among the first batch of DVDs I selected from DVDTalk. The Eating Out films, of which Drama Camp is #4, are bawdy gay comedies which tend to show up on the Logo channel. I’d previously seen the first one (which sucked), but none of the sequels. Surprisingly the film turned out enjoyable in its own cheesy way. The full review is here.
The Egg and I (1947). As an introduction to the Ma & Pa Kettle Complete Comedy Collection, one can’t get any better than the Kettle’s first outing as supporting players in this breezy laugh getter. The film has a typical “city slickers go country” theme with Claudette Colbert and Fred MacMurray as newlyweds who get more than they bargained for when MacMurray impulsively decides to start an egg farm in the woods of Washington state. Most of the humor revolves around fetching Colbert attempting to adjust to farm animals, primitive kitchen appliances and loopy neighbors. Awfully cute, but not too cute. Marjorie Main and Percy Kilbride as Ma & Pa Kettle are a delight. I’m going to be seeing a lot more of them as I run through the nine (!) films they starred in (actually, Kilbride bowed out for the final two, which are making their DVD debut on this set). My full, Kettle-riffic writeup will be appearing soon.
Howl (2010). Netflix streaming view (Christopher’s choice). Howl details Allen Ginsberg in the fifties, how he came to write his gritty, poetic tour-de-force Howl and the subsequent obscenity trial for the book, in which Ginsberg was not involved. The film shifts between James Franco as Ginsberg, emoting in a fake beard, colorful and visually striking sequences in which Franco narrates Howl to animation, and the trial itself with Jon Hamm as the defense attorney and David Strathairn representing the prosecution. This film was a mess, really. Franco is too stylized and actor-y as Ginsberg and his readings are unbelievably pretentious. Ginsberg’s language is unsparingly tough and ahead of its time, spitting in the face of ’50s conformity, so there’s definitely a movie to be had in that. Although the Franco scenes fail, I somewhat enjoyed the trial section and found the animation interesting (I’m a sucker for good, weird animation). All in all, a well-intentioned, ponderous bore.
Lost Empires (1986). This miniseries follows the goings-on in a British music hall performing troupe in the years prior to World War I, with a young/dashing Colin Firth as the protagonist. I will have a detailed review of this up shortly at DVDTalk, but in a nutshell I really enjoyed this. The series is in seven parts, with the longer first part being the least satisfying. It is necessary, however, in detailing the evocative characters and stage milieu that Firth enters. After his last surviving parent dies, Firth as regular bloke Richard comes under the employ of his Uncle Nick (a wonderful, menacing turn by John Castle), who does an exotic magic act under the stage name Ganga Dun. The cynical Nick introduces Richard to the world of jugglers, comedians, singers and dancers — performers who are at the lower strata of English society and yet have a social hierarchy of their own. The concept shares some similarity with the recent Downton Abbey, which even takes place in the same time period. The reissued DVD edition is coming out Tuesday; hopefully I will have my more comprehensive review ready by then!
One Night in the Tropics (1940). The film that introduced Abbott & Costello to moviedom was shown one recent afternoon on ThisTV, so I recorded it and watched it in bits and pieces over a week or two. Not the best way to take in a movie, I’m sure, which might explain why I found it so disjointed and horrible. A&C pop in at inopportune moments, doing their stage bits (including the “Who’s On First” routine). They have little to do with the main plot of the film, a trifle about buddies Allan Jones and Robert Cummings, who hatch a plan to take out an insurance policy on Cummings’ upcoming marriage to socialite Nancy Kelly. The policy is financed by nightclub owner William Frawley, who hires Bud Abbott and Lou Costello to make sure the couple marries and he doesn’t have to pay up. A herky-jerky comedy with forgettable musical interludes and a dumb script. I always found Cummings an unappealing, ultra-smarmy character and he’s no different here. Allen Jones was an interesting figure from this era, an appealing opera singer with a jazzy, current image; his character is almost as bad as Cummings’. Blecch.
Little Miss Moffitt
In honor of my Vidal Sassoon: The Movie review getting published at DVDTalk, here’s a cute short of model Peggy Moffitt parading around in some mod, mod ensembles designed by Rudi Gernreich. In the Sassoon film, Vidal Sassoon and designer Mary Quant talk a bit about Moffitt and her amusing propensity for “acting out” whatever fashions she tried on (like in this film!). What a cool chick.
Christopher tells me that he met Moffitt and her husband, photographer William Claxton, at an L.A. function in the ’90s. He didn’t know who she was at the time, however — he would have gotten an autograph if he did!
Flick Clique: September 11-17
Father Is a Bachelor (1950). A blandly sweet, forgettable William Holden comedy that came out on made-to-order DVD last spring. This was my very first review for DVD Talk and the complete piece can be read here. Please check it out and tell me what you think. Thanks!
The Hurt Locker (2009). You know the drill: Jeremy Renner as a bomb diffusing expert in Iraq, critically acclaimed but under the radar release, eventual winner of Best Picture and Best Director Oscars (hooray for Kathryn Bigelow). I somewhat enjoyed this, and somewhat found it lacking and more episodic than any film has a right to be. On the plus side was Renner’s performance — he really captured the love/hate thing with combat duty that the best of soldiers have to deal with. Bigelow’s direction is fine, also, if too reliant on the shaky cam. Actor Anthony Mackie contributes another good job as the sergeant who attempts to keep the eccentric Renner in line. The film is generally unsatisfying because it lopes from storyline to storyline without accomplishing much. It opens with a stirring scene with Guy Pierce as another bomb expert, which only ends up demonstrating what a dangerous job he’s got. The film then moves to Renner as he ventures from one peril-fraught situation to the next. I’ve always heard that combat duty is 5% combat and 95% preparation, and in that respect the film is a realistic portrayal. It was a smidge too draggy and talky (not to mention episodic) for our tastes, however.
The Princess and the Frog (2009). Netflix Instant viewing. I was a little leery of this one (current Disney movies leave me cold), but surprisingly it ended up being a total charmer and a gorgeous return to Disney Animation’s Little Mermaid/Beauty & The Beast days. The film follows Tiana (voiced and sung terrifically by Anika Noni Rose), a poor black woman in 1930s New Orleans who desires to open her own restaurant. The town is atwitter with the arrival of Prince Naveen, but the prince has a run-in with a voodoo magician that transforms both him and Tiana into frogs! Was this movie’s disappointing box office due to the fact that both leads are amphibians? Who knows, but the film flows beautifully and is chock full of wonderful music (surprisingly by Randy Newman) and sumptuous visuals. The animation was fluid, if a bit too cartoony at times. I also loved the vivid supporting characters which include a trumpet playing alligator who yearns to be with the humans, a lovelorn firefly and a blind voodoo priestess. This was a fun movie, and if it doesn’t rank with the truly great animated movies from Walt Disney’s time it is at the very least a good companion with the likes of The Lion King and Little Mermaid. For a taste, check out the sunny, stylized imagery in Anika Noni Rose’s “Almost There” number:
Return to Peyton Place (1961). The sequel to 1957′s Peyton Place, which I unironically enjoyed a few weeks back, treads in the same soapy waters as its predecessor but isn’t nearly as satisfying. The most glaring change, four years later, is that all of the roles from the previous film have been recast with inferior actors. Diane Varsi’s inquisitive teenaged writer from the first film is now essayed in a smarmy manner by Carol Lynley. The role of her Ice Queen ma, formerly Lana Turner, is now played by a trembly Eleanor Parker. Mostly the film revolves around Lynley’s character (a stand-in for P.P. author Grace Metalious) attempting to find a publisher for the steamy novel she wrote about the residents of Peyton Place. The manuscript catches the eye of suave Jeff Chandler, who takes her under his wing and painstakingly grooms her into publishing’s New Hot Thing, one of several “huh?” moments in the film. One of the film’s b-stories relate to young lawyer Ted (formerly David Nelson, now Brett Halsey) attempting to ingratiate his Italian bride (flat actress Luciana Paluzzi) with his formidable, steel-veined mother (Mary Astor, whose character didn’t appear in the first P.P.). The other details the fallen Selena (formerly Hope Lange, now Tuesday Weld) as she attempts to mend her broken reputation with the townspeople while a horndog skiier (Gunnar Hellström) attempts to woo her. A dull time is had by all. Probably the most disappointing thing about this flick is that the wonderfully evocative location shooting from the first P.P. is trashed in favor of a mountainous, pine tree-laden locale that looks more like Aspen, Colorado than any New England town. It’s just one of many things about this movie that brings about a “what where they thinking?” reaction.
Thor (2011). Did you suffer from superhero fatigue over the summer? I sure did, and yet I ended up going to see one of them (the loose and surprisingly assured Captain America) in the cinema itself. Thor was a dicey proposition from the get-go, starting with the goofy concept of muscle-bound Norse lunkhead as superhero (he ranks right down there with Aqua Man and The Wonder Twins in terms of street cred). Still, one can imagine a good film possibly coming out with Kenneth Branagh directing, all the whiz bang CGI money can buy, and Natalie Portman as the leading lady. Not so, alas. The main problem I had was that the scenes on the Thor planet were too pretentious and grandiose, with everyone (including an embarrassing Anthony Hopkins) speaking in the same quasi-Shakespearian manner. That, and special effects that are like George Lucas at his most self indulgent, add up to one huge, overinflated slog. As if to counter the overabundance of the Thor planet (I don’t remember the name, sorry), the earthly scenes are all done a little too flip, with Portman’s scientist being a scatterbrain in a way that’s supposed to be charming, but ends up looking idiotic. As some consolidation, at least she’s not a thoroughly annoying dumbell like the graduate student played by Kat Dennings. As Thor, Chris Hemsworth has the rockin’ bod and growling voice down pat, but he’s curiously lacking in charisma. I was also distracted by his painted-on blonde eyebrows and facial hair. The film has a few exciting set pieces, however, and some of the designs (like the Thor planet’s spinning room) have an elegant panache.
Vidal Sassoon: The Movie (2011). One of the other films that are among the first batch of DVDs I received for review from DVD Talk. A probing documentary of legendary hair sculptor Vidal Sassoon that goes into similar, stylish territory as The September Issue and Valentino: The Last Emperor. What’s not to like? I will go into more detail in my official review, but in a nutshell I dug this portrait of a very interesting gentleman. Unlike the other two films mentioned, this one focuses less on the intersection of fashion and commerce and is more about the power of single-minded creativity and what one individual can accomplish. Very inspiring.
Book Review: Lifestyle Illustration of the ’60s
The decade of the ’60s seems to conjure up a lot of images of femininity to me — slinky James Bond gal, mod miniskirted model, Donna Reedy housewife, hippie chick, California beach bunny. All of those archetypes, and many more, are on full display in Lifestyle Illustration of the ’60s, a brick-like volume of vintage magazine illustrations expertly selected by Rian Hughes. Sure, there are some men pictured within these pages, but since the illustrations come from various popular British women’s mags of the era (Woman, Woman’s Own, Homes and Gardens, Woman’s Journal to name a few) they tend to focus on the fairer sex rendered in every color of the rainbow. The women are generally seen in swooning, romantic poses with body language and facial expressions that hint at some intrigue or outside danger (what is the trench coated beauty on page 322 looking at?).
What most impressed me about this book is how craftily the illustrators worked with white space and printing techniques to make a visually stunning statement. The artwork is presented in chronological order, reproduced in graphic layouts that punch up the often stunning color palettes the artists used. The earlier examples are more conservative subject-wise, with prim ladies emoting in billowy dresses, but the art is surprisingly daring in technique. As the ’60s move along, we see wilder colors and looser, more artfully sketch-like renderings, until 1966-67 brings on a mod, Carnaby Street influence with a graphic punch. Cartoons, collage, surrealism, revival and psychedelic styles all get their due, but by 1969 we’re back in the realm of glamorously swooning ladies rendered in washy paints. Some things never change, it seems.
This book focuses solely on British publications, which honestly let me down a little, but many American artists of the era are represented here with quality work by the likes of Coby Whitmore, Andy Virgil and Lynn Buckham. One of my favorites from that period, Bob Peak, is represented only once — a striking image of a kissing couple dominated by the black space between their profiles. Wow!
Lifestyle Illustration of the ’60s is available at Amazon.com, of course. I got my copy at discount seller Edward R. Hamilton for much cheaper, however. Fiell is set to release a companion volume, Lifestyle Illustrations of the ’50s, later on this month.
Boys Life
Occasionally I will get into a certain musical artist’s output during a specific time period — lately it’s been the Pet Shop Boys’ 1999-2004 output. I started off with ’99′s Nightlife, the last PSB disc I bought when it was new. This one got a mixed reception from fans, but I enjoyed it at the time and found on re-listen that it still holds up nicely, thankyouverymuch. Most of the album’s appeal comes from the airy, almost cinematic production by Rollo and Craig Armstrong. Some of the tunes have this beautiful, orchestral feel — which really comes in handy during the times when Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe’s dry irony gets laid on too thick (as on “Vampires”). As on other albums, they often go for the jugular in terms of emotion, something rarely heard in synth pop. The pathos of “You Only Tell Me You Love Me When You’re Drunk” is a good example of just how moving they can be.
Defying expectations, the Pet Shoppers followed Nighlife with 2002′s Release, a laid-back, guitar-oriented effort. This album was greeted with perhaps the worst reception of the boys’ entire career. People wanted nothing to do with a glum, introspective PSB, apparently. It’s actually not all that bad, but the shortage of memorable tunes doesn’t exactly make this a keeper, either. “Home and Dry” was the oddly bland choice for first single, with the anthemic (thanks to Johnny Marr’s guitar) “I Get Along” being a much improved follow-up. I ended up getting a cheap used copy of the deluxe Release recently. The album is pleasant chill out music, marred by the dated (and unnecessary) vocoder effects on several tracks. One highlight is “The Night I Fell In Love,” Tennant and Lowe’s airy tale of bedding a macho rapper who bears a striking resemblance to Eminem. That and “I Get Along” belong on a PSB’s Greatest compilation. The rest, not so much.
Completing my Pet Shop Boys journey meant downloading the two new tracks off their 2003 compilation, PopArt: The Hits. The sleek “Miracles” was a good stab at relevance, but the real stunner was “Flamboyant”. This and its b-side, “I Didn’t Get Where I Am Today,” count as two of my favorite PSB tracks. I’m also loving the “Flamboyant” video, a dizzying montage which includes clips of Japanese game show contestants making cleverly choreographed shapes from their bodies. Like the Pet Shop Boys themselves, it’s bizarre and brilliant at the same time.
Flick Clique: September 4-10
Good, somewhat unexpected, news: I am now one of the reviewers at the great online home video resource DVDTalk.com. Although I’ve been reading that site for years, it was only recently that I found the main editor’s solicitation for reviewers posted on the reader forums. Using some of my 2005-06 reviews from Mindjack Film as samples, I submitted an application — and was accepted! I’ve always liked the concise, totally thorough (yet fun) reviews at DVDTalk and can’t wait to contribute my own. On to this week’s Flick Clique:
By the People: The Election of Barack Obama (2009). Amy Rice and Alicia Sams’ acclaimed documentary follows Obama on his historic campaign from its first conception in 2006 up through election day, two long and exhausting years later. Somewhat absorbing (due to the amazing access Rice and Sams had) if not exactly mind-blowing. What struck me the most is how contrived most political campaigns are, and despite all attempts to market Obama as the “different” choice, his route to the White House basically mirrored the ones who went before him. Obama himself seems like a decent, down-to-earth fellow, and I appreciated the scenes capturing him, Michelle, Sasha and Malia relaxing at home. It would be interesting if the filmmakers did a follow-up with the youthful, optimistic campaign volunteers who propelled Obama to victory — what would they think of him now? Personally, I think he’s doing the best he can, despite the disappointment of his being way too conciliatory toward certain congressional Republicans who deserve a severe bitch slap. But back to the campaign scenes — my heart sank when the filmmakers visited the Iowa State Fair. Whether it was Hillary Clinton flipping burgers or Michelle Bachmann awkwardly chewing on a corn dog, the entire sequence stank of deja vu.
Final Destination 3 (2006). When it comes down to it, the Final Destination flicks are really about seeing ever more creative ways for teenagers to kick the bucket onscreen. FD3 is no different, and on its own terms I got a gleeful kick out of the crafty death scenes. Whether it’s snooty social queens fatally fried on a tanning bed or an arrogant jock who succumbs to some workout equipment gone horribly wrong, the characters are painted in such broad, evil stereotypes it’s not so bad when they’re offed. Actress Mary Elizabeth Winstead makes an appealing lead as the one teen that senses the doom of her classmates from the start, although she’s let down by a dopey script that doesn’t leave room for any character depth. Wouldn’t anybody get suspicious when the girl just happens to witness all these gruesome deaths?
It’s in the Bag (1946). This loose, wacky comedy starring radio personality Fred Allen counts as yet another curio that showed up unceremoniously on Netflix streaming. Allen plays a flea circus proprietor who finds himself the unlikely heir to a fortune when a rich relative drops dead. Allen and wife Binnie Barnes immediately spend the fortune on a new wardrobe and swanky apartment, only to find that the deceased millionaire actually hid the fortune in one of five antique chairs, which Allen foolishly dispatched to an antique store. With the aid of precocious son Dickie Tyler, Allen goes on a wild goose chase to get the sold chairs back from their scattered owners, which include Jack Benny (a funny bit with Benny playing himself in full-tilt Jack Benny mode), a scatterbrained old woman, a Gay ’90s nightclub proprietor, and a bunch of hoods. Quite cute, moderately funny time waster. The film opens with Allen as himself, addressing the audience and deconstructing the opening credits in a forward thinking way. What follows is not nearly as ballsy, but the film benefits from enjoyably loopy appearances from guest actors including Benny, Robert Benchley, William Bendix, Sidney Toler, Don Ameche, Rudy Vallee, and Victor Moore (the final three are a hoot as three quarters of a singing barbershop quartet).
Julie & Julia (2009). While Julia Child endeavors to master the art of French cookery in the ’40s and ’50s, contemporary office worker Julie Powell writes a weblog on attempting every recipe in Child’s magnum opus. I enjoyed this, mostly for the sumptuously filmed food shots and amazing performances by Meryl Street and Stanley Tucci, who are warm, engaging and surprisingly sexy as Child and her adoring husband, Paul. Nora Ephron directs the Child scenes as a romanticized fantasy, filtered through the impressions of the contemporary character, a stark contrast from the workaday life in Queens and Manhattan for Amy Adams’ struggling writer Powell. There was a lot of criticism for the mundanity of the “Julie” segments, but as a fellow blogger I got a kick out of the scenes with her setting up a blog and the anticipation of whether people could relate to her writing (is this the first mainstream movie about blogging?). Unfortunately, as our appreciation for Julia Child and her effervescent joie de vivre grows, the more Powell comes off as a big, narcissistic whiner… even the normally wonderful Adams can’t make her appealing! At their cores, cooking and blogging are both mundane activities that can be extraordinary if you approach them with the right mindset. From that standpoint, the film is a success.
Playhouse 90: The Comedian (1957). I rented the Criterion Golden Age Of Television set recently just for this production, a Rod Serling scripted saga of an egotistical TV star (played by a manic Mickey Rooney) and his downfall. This was a pretty typical production of the era, preserved on clunky kinescope that doesn’t adequately convey the technical accomplishment that went with live dramas of this ilk. For a project that left no room for error, John Frankenheimer’s direction is incredibly smooth and even daring, with pans and cuts that relied on split second timing from the actors. This was also worth watching for another wild, uninhibited turn by Rooney (see also: The Last Mile). What a dynamo that man was!
You Had Me at Meow
Watching an episode of The Bob Newhart Show on MeTV last night got me thinking about the famous MTM Enterprises kitten logo. MTM put the kitty (named Mimsy) through many variants over the years. By far the sickest one came at the final credits of the last St. Elsewhere, which has poor Mimsy lying down with a heart monitor going into flatline mode. Noooo!
P.S. As a kid, I always thought that MTM was the television branch of MGM. It always made sense to me.
Flick Clique: August 28 – September 3
Affairs of Cappy Ricks (1937) and Double Or Nothing (1937). A double feature of Depression-era escapism, separated only by what must have been several thousand dollars of budget. Affairs of Cappy Ricks is yet another modest yet entertaining b-flick from my Comedy Kings DVD set. An early effort by Republic Pictures, Cappy stars Walter Brennan as a crusty sea captain/entrepreneur who returns from a long voyage to find that his chiseling family has overtaken his business to the point of attempting a merger with a rival company. He decides to take them on a sea voyage and fake-crashes the boat near a deserted island, hoping the experience will teach them some humility. The plans go awry when the boat really crashes, however, and a screwball Gilligan’s Island situation ensues. Suprisingly appealing in a low-rent My Man Godfrey way — Brennan and low-wattage co-stars Mary Brian and Lyle Talbot deliver cute, un-showy performances. The film is also interesting in its anti-progress attitude, especially in the scene where Brennan is befuddled to find that his ship’s kitchen is equipped with push button technology. Double Or Nothing is another bit of musical fluff found on the Bing Crosby Screen Legend Collection DVD set. Like Waikiki Wedding, it co-stars brassy Martha Raye in a story that seems to evaporate off the celluloid. This time, Bing is a regular guy whose chance encounter with some found money puts him in an unusual inheritance scheme in which he has a chance at taking over a dying millionaire’s estate — but only if he can double his $1,000 bill within thirty days. Crosby teams up with fellow investors Raye, Andy Devine and William Frawley to open a luxe nightclub, an effort that continually gets stymied by the rich man’s greedy relatives. Rather endearing and unoffensive froth with Bing crooning a couple of pleasant if unmemorable tunes. Most of the appeal is in the great photography, costumes and production designs and definitely not in the goofy specialty acts that pad out the film’s second half. There is a certain weirdness to the segment with the guy who can make evening gowns in a few seconds flat, viewable here in a later TV appearance. (By the way, Affairs of Cappy Ricks is viewable online at Archive.org — cute movie if you have an hour to spare.)
(500) Days of Summer (2009). (500) Days of Summer is the kind of “quirky” romantic comedy that one would either find incredibly cloying or charming — although I can see both sides of the argument, I tend towards the latter. The film follows twentysomething greeting card writer Tom (a winning performance by Joseph Gordon Levitt) as he recalls being charmed by an alluring new co-worker, Summer (Zooey Deschanel). The two begin a friendly flirtation, then start dating despite her warnings that she’s a commitment-phobe. The relationship ebbs and flows, but eventually they find that they’re not right for each other (not really a spoiler, I suppose). The film flashes back and forward in time at various points during the 500 days they were involved (hence the title). This was a nice, funny film with some great comic timing from Gordon-Levitt. Deschanel, whom I normally find way too cutesy, does a nuanced job as an appealing yet flawed woman who realizes soon that she can’t live up to Gordon-Levitt’s idealized version of her. This was the first feature for director Marc Webb after a background in music videos, and it shows in the choppy, multi-textured way he approaches these vignettes. It’s at its most awkward in the Glee-ish segment with Gordon-Levitt enacting a sunny musical number to the tune of Hall & Oates’ “You Make My Dreams Come True,” but for the most part the film is slick and non-intrusive. Thanks to the lead performers, the couple seems real and the script thankfully avoids the usual romantic comedy clichés.
Peyton Place (1957). Plush, impressively mounted soap about a New England town whose residents are less idyllic than they appear on the surface. I’ve been watching a lot of guilty pleasure soapy melodramas lately (From the Terrace being the latest), which serve as great camp at the least, and at the most tell us profound stuff about how people saw themselves in the past. Peyton Place fits more into the latter area. It’s long, overwrought, hokey at times but totally absorbing — exactly what a good soap ought to be! Though I can’t go into details about the complicated plot, the film contains several noteworthy performances, including Hope Lange as a dirt poor girl and Russ Tamblyn as the misunderstood neighbor boy with an overly attached mother. I also enjoyed Lana Turner as the town Ice Queen, even though she fared much better in the superior Imitation of Life from a few years later. Unlike that tear jerker, this one pretty much sticks to normal small town life although the widescreen photography is just as sumptuous. There are some odd touches (the director’s focusing on a hungry kid at a picnic, for instance), but for the most part Peyton Place is a load of soapy fun.
Rise of the Planet of the Apes (2011). Saw this one in the theater this week — pretty fun. Like Captain America, I wound up being modestly impressed even if the film doesn’t break any new ground. This is a prequel to the Planet of the Apes saga set in contemporary times, although the strangely inconclusive conclusion might make this more of a Rise of the Rise of the Planet of the Apes. Affable James Franco plays a Big Pharma researcher who is especially attached to a brilliant test monkey, a subject for an anti-Alzheimer’s drug that sharpens the mind. After the monkey dies, he takes the creature’s baby home to live with him and his ailing father (John Lithgow). The monkey grows up, turns out to be a genius, causes a disturbance, and ends up in a cruel primate house. Eventually the miracle drug gets exposed to all the repressed monkeys who express their monkey rage by taking over the Golden Gate Bridge (a lot of other stuff happens, including several lovey-dovey bits with Franco and girlfriend Freida Pinto, but that’s the basic gist). The monkey is a CGI creation with motion capture enacted by actor Andy Serkis, and the most noteworthy aspect is the emotion that Serkis manages to breathe into this otherwise digital creature. As with a lot of other CGI, I find myself looking closely at what they got wrong — how the movements are a little too smooth, for instance — but the facial expressions were magic and surprisingly touching at times. I especially loved the scene where Cesar, separated from Marsden, draws the outline of the window in his bedroom on the wall of his cell. The ending seemed rushed and suffers from franchise-itis, but otherwise I was entertained.
Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen (2009). This was pretty much what I expected — bloated, overlong, overproduced drivel made by morons, for morons. This apparently continues the story laid out in the first Transformers, with Shia LeBeouf moving on to college and the evil Decepticons in pursuit of an ancient robotic artifact hidden in an Egyptian pyramid (one whose precise location can only be divined from deep within LeBouf’s brain). LeBeouf continues to be the slack-jawed doofus, Megan Fox as his girlfriend juts her chest out impressively, and the parents are actually even more idiotic than in the first Transformers (really, their scenes are so embarrassing, I felt for poor Julie White and Kevin Dunn). The only new additions were several tiny Transformers, and a pair of jive-talking robots that I immediately wanted made into scap metal. Somebody please stop Michael Bay from making any more movies, please?
New at LitKids: Box ‘o Note Cards
My summer LitKids project has come to fruition — a spiffy box set of blank note cards! This project actually started last spring, when the proprietor MADE Boutique here in Phoenix brought up the fact that note cards always sell in her shop. From the beginning I thought I’d use the popular Anne of Green Gables, Jo from Little Women and Alice In Wonderland images on the cards, but I put off printing them until the Tom Sawyer one was finished (I knew it would come out nice, and it’s good to have a boy to add to the three girls).
Once the cards were designed, it was pretty easy getting them printed at Overnight Prints. Add in boxes, clear plastic sleeves, and labels on the back and voilà — eight LitKids cards in a box!
