CineSage_jr
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Posts posted by CineSage_jr
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Woof!
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C-Sage, you are one twisted piece of work.
You know all the words and how to use them, but you don't seem to know when and when not to.
bOb.
"When and when not to," by whose estimation? The words are chosen and employed to achieve a certain desired result. Since I usually get the results I'm after, they're exactly the right ones.
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TCM's shown the film before, and it's always been the short U.S. version.
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"Mating of Millie?" For a minute, I thought you were referring to George H.W. and Barbara Bush's dog.
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I still think this movie is very good, but I have always wished a more interesting and spirited actress had been cast in The Westerner instead of Doris Davenport.
Director William Wyler pleaded with Sam Goldwyn to let him cast his wife, Margaret Tallichet, an excellent actress, as Jane, but the studio chief was adamant in his desire that Davenport (in Wyler's view, pretty but inadequate) be given the female lead, probably because Goldwyn thought she could be groomed as a star he'd then have under contract (which wouldn't have been the case with Tallichet).
Fortunately, the film revolves so memorably around the Cole Harden-Roy Bean axis, the former's having to cope with befriending a monster; Cole's romance with Jane is a decidedly tangential aspect to the story (Cole's chicanery vis-a-vis the lock of Jane's hair he passes off as Lillie Langtry's being Jane's chief function in the film).
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Ok - so I like ham
Someone needs to keep his snooty comments and half hearted insults to himself
If you dont like the DH, then just say that instead of calling people ham or making fun of fans because they like the DH
Tell me, is there a head on your shoulders or did your neck blow a bubble ?
"Half-hearted?" Would you care to be the target of a full-hearted insult, then?
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Thanks so much for the condescending tone. So Barry Nelson played James Bond on TV in 1954. Interesting. In 1954 my parents were 12 years old. I would not become one of God's creatures until much later so I don't know much about 1950's TV.
What kind of an excuse is that? I wasn't around for the burning of Troy, the Punic Wars, Crusades or the crash of the Hindenburg, but I still know about them.
Whereof what?s past is prologue, what to come
In yours and my discharge.
-- William Shakespeare, The Tempest, Act II, Sc. i
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TWENTIETH CENTURY was the first true "screwball comedy"; IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT doesn't even qualify as an example of the genre, its being a far more traditional romantic comedy of the type Hollywood had made for years (and continues to make, though with notably less and less success).
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I prefer the DH because it gives good hitters a chance to have their careers extended a few more years. I dont want to see pitchers hit when the bases are loaded with no one out, I want someone that I can count on to drive in runs.
A typical ham-handed "appreciation" of the game. But you put your finger on the whole point of the argument: the game should be bigger, and have more integrity, than the owners pandering to what the fans want or, even more to the point, what they think the fans want. As I said in my earlier posting, American League "fans" don't know what real baseball is anymore.
Pitching duels are boring as hell, masterpiece by the pitcher...zzzzzzs for me....
That being said, thats why the AL keeps winning, they have a better line-up with the DH & if needed can play a position..
Blowouts are boring, too, so what's your point? And the AL keeps winning the All-Star Game (but, take note, not the World Series) because, in adopting the Designated hitter, they've mastered the fine art of legalized cheating.
And if the AL owners, when they first started debating whether or not to institute the Desiginated Hitter rule more than thirty-five years ago, simply wanted more scoring, why not just lower the pitcher's mound some more, as had been done in 1969? Or shorten the base paths to 88 feet, instead of the long-established 90 (that would've really increased scoring, since no infielder would be able to get to any ball that wasn't hit right at him, and even average runners would reach base ahead of most throws. Every team would have a half-dozen .400 hitters)? Or move in the outfield fences? Or give a batter four strikes instead of three?
Any one of these measures would have increased the amount of scoring far more than the Designated hitter has. The reason is that the owners settled on the DH, instead, is that they were engaged in something more ambitious (though only in a business sense) and, to anyone who loves the game, far, far more sinister: the owners were taking what they thought was their first step toward introducing unlimited substitution to baseball, in which players can be rotated into and out of games as often as the manager sees fit, something that has long been a part of football, basketball, hockey and every other team sport.
Was their plan for unlimited substitution an attempt to improve the game, to make it more exciting and better-balanced?
No, it was not. It was nothing more than a cynical ploy on the owners' part for teams to need smaller player-rosters; instead of the current 25 men per team, one allowed unlimited substitution might need only 22. Or 20. Or 18. And this would save each owner immense sums of money in salaries they would no longer need to pay.
The owners neglected to take one important factor into account: the MLB Players Union. When they introduced the Designated Hitter, they handed the Union a whole new class of player whose welfare had to be taken into account, and became one more layer of negotation in the periodic collective-bargaining war between management and labor.
The Union also got bigger. And richer. It became more powerful to the point of the DH's becoming so well-entrenched that the owners finally realized that they'd created the proverbial monster, one they couldn't kill (and a majority of the AL owners would like to eliminate the rule). They thought they were taking the first step toward rducing the power of, and eventually breaking, the union, but it had the exact opposite effect.
So, the next time you watch a game and mutter to yourself (between belches from the beer you've been swilling since the pre-game show) "Boy, I sure like the DH!," just remember that you, and all the fans since 1972, have been played for suckers by a succession of greedy, Macchiavellian owners whose only interest was the bottom-line, and not the integirty, or even the enjoyability, of the game of baseball.
Baseball was designed to be a balancing act between pitcher and hitter hitter; between fielder and batter ball. Between the limits of human strength and agility and gravity. That's why steroids are finally being seen as the scourge they are, because they allow players to achieve more than four-million years of human evolution, and excruciating dedication to training and conditioning can achieve. Instead of seeing baseball as a test of skill and resolve, for too many players it's become a means to and end, which is the Big Paycheck in a multi-year contract. The DH is no different: it's a means to an end, too: big profits for the owners, who're all to happy to supply a markedly inferior product, as long as the money keeps rolling in.
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Far more importantly, TCM only seems to have the U.S. cut of the film (91 mins.), drastically shorter than the original 115-minute U.K. version.
Find a full-length print, TCM!
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I was Concieved at this Drive-In on September 06 1964, Moms Birthday.
My Grandmother worked here when it was called The Encina.
Interesting, how you claim to pin it down to this one particular enchanted evening.
Unless your parents were in the habit of making love no more frequently than once every three weeks, or so, this is a rather unsupportable statement.
I do suppose, though, that it's a good thing that the family didn't hang on to the vehicle in which the notorious deed was done and build a shrine around it.
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This is a no-brainer for me (also a Yankees fan). Watch the game, tape the movie. Who wants to watch a tape of a game after it's over? The suspense is gone.
If I want suspense, I'll throw a Hitchcock DVD in the player.
But American League fans don't know anything about real baseball, anyway (Designated Hitter = Affirmative Action for men too slow, stupid, inept or old to play a defensive position, and pitchers too delicate to face an opposing pitcher with a bat in their hands. An abomination, about six rungs below having sexual relations with barnyard animals).
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Who's Barry Nelson??
Oh, boy, are you on the wrong message board.
American actor Barry Nelson (1917-2007), whom some may remember from feature films such as A GUY NAMED JOE, THE BEGINNING OR THE END and THE SHINING, was the first-ever screen James (Jimmy) Bond, starring in a 1954 adaptation of Ian Fleming's Casino Royale that was an episode of the CBS anthology Climax! (whose title offers definitive proof that sex was not invented until 1964).
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Judge us.
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Two minor problems with Gavin:
1.) Too American (what's the matter, wasn't Barry Nelson American enough for you?)
2.) Couldn't act.
In their way, it was the same problem with George Lazenby, just substituting "Australian" for "American." Nevertheless, Lazenby's the star of what's still the best Bond film, ever.
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Well, the real problem is that there are gay people, and then there are the proverbial fairies (the two terms not being in the least interchangeable, but in too many minds they are precisely that).
Everybody has a right to be whatever they want, and act however they want, as long as it's legal and doesn't hurt anyone else. Living in Los Angeles, a stone's throw from the gay enclave of West Hollywood, I've often wondered about this clear schism within the gay community. There are many, many gays, male and female that are indistinguishable from the general population in voice, manner and decorum.
Then there are those who are, for lack of a more convenient way of putting it, self-made fairies. What is it about some gays that make them adopt this particular form of affectation (to be fair, there are certainly straight men who are effeminate, but they're a small minority)?
For myself, I dislike affectations (though we all have them, me included) irrespective of who's doing it, and to what group they're trying to belong (such as teenage girls adopting "Val-speak"; women who decorate their homes in an extra-feminine manner, as though they're insecure that visitors will not otherwise realize that a woman resides there; or men who feel they have to crush the life out of every hand offered for a handshake.
It's obvious that a great many people will always dislike gay people for what they do behind closed doors that defines them as gay. I'm not immune to that but, since I'm not behind those doors, and am not being forced to participate or witness what's going on there, those activities have absolutely no bearing on my life and, as I wrote earlier, and hurt no one.
Still, it's hard not to feel that the effeminate mannerisms many gays adopt adds to the distatste much of mainstream society feels toward homosexuals, if not homosexuality (case in point: West Hollywood's annual Gay Pride Day parade. If you've ever seen it on the news, the spectacle of half-naked, leather-clad gay people on floats cruising down Santa Monic Boulevard can be somewhat off-putting. The problem is not that the people are gay, but that they are flagrant exhibitionists. It's the exhibitionism, itself, that's distasteful, and the sight of similarly cavorting heterosexual exhibitionists would be just as unwelcome).
I don't equate things I find personally distasteful with immorality, as is the custom for "religious" moralizers and sanctimonious right-wingers. To tolerlate that which one finds distasteful is ennobling, and do do so makes us better than we would otherwise be. It's a small step in what should be a lifelong path toward self-improvement, and fits in quite neatly with Jesus's (yes, him) words about those without sin being the only ones with a right to cast stones.
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THE ADVENTURES OF ROBIN HOOD
and
THE FOUR FEATHERS.
PS: Flowers and Trees is an animated short cartoon, not a movie. The first feature-length film in three-strip dye-transfer Technicolor is Rouben Mamoulian's BECKY SHARP (1935).
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I don't disagree with any of that; but I don't care how important a film is. That doesn't do anything for my enjoyment. If it did, I wouldn't hate Citizen Kane so.
In all the ink that's been expended in praise for CITIZEN KANE's groundbreaking artistry, little has been written about how wonderfully entertaining a movie it is.
As such, your dislike only points to the inevitable conclusion that it takes all kinds to make a world.
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The film, an adaptation of Lloyd C. Douglas's novel, was a Warner Bros.-William Randoplph Hearst's Cosmopolitan Pictures co-production. TCM has shown it in the past, and they will surely do so again.
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Most of the ills, wars and injustices in this world over the last two-thousand years can be traced directly to Jesus's teachings and their abuse by the "pious" folks who have seen him as their inexhaustible meal-ticket.
The last thing the Eloi would need is a collection of parables promising things it cannot, in fact, ever deliver -- preposterous things like "salvation" and "eternal life." If the Eloi are to suffer at the hand of their fellow man, as much of civilization has over the past two millennia, let them devise their own brand of poison, rather than a bankrupt, 800,000-year-old hand-me-down from a civilization that has routinely brought itself to the brink of destruction over agruments about on which side of his head Jesus parted his hair.
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I wasn't confusing endings. You could not understand the jokes. Click.
There was a joke somewhere in there?
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I mean this as a compliment, please do not take it the wrong way but to me u look like----a gay superhero.
What do gay people look like, exactly?
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Well, I'd love to answer that question but I've never liked it when discussions stray too far away from the subject of movies.
How convenient, your rationale for avoiding answering my point. As Madge, Bette Davis's character, says so famously, disdainfully -- and evasively -- in 1932's CABIN IN THE COTTON, "Ah'd love to kiss ya, but I just washed mah hair!"
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THE 39 STEPS is a more critical film in Hitchcock's oeuvre than THE LADY VANISHES, in that it is the wellspring from which all his later romantic chase-thrillers would spring, whereas LADY, like a number of his other films, veers off into somewhat different territory.
While NORTH BY NORTHWEST is surely the apotheosis of those chase-thrillers, it is also less important than THE 39 STEPS; were it not for the latter, the former (along with FOREIGN CORRESPONDENT and SABOTEUR would not exist, at least in the form we all now know.
excessive e-mails
in General Discussions
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Funny, all I see through the binoculars is Raymond Burr burying a little dog in my apartment building's courtyard...