songbird2

Ayres, [imagine an even deeper French growl]...ah, mon petit, you cannot imagine what joy you have given me by reminding me of the gaze of another Frenchman, Jean Gabin. Oh, can he express himself without words.Longing, amusement, pity, lust, curiosity, and disdain---it's all there in those great baby blues in such films as Pepe LeMoko, Grand Illusion, Touchez Pas Au Grisbi , French Can-Can, and even the late-in-the-day The Sicilian Clan. Gabin didn't really need sound. Merci, mon ami. You too Ayres.

Windows to the soul is how the eyes are often characterized. Actors, good and bad, express so much through them that is never adequately expressed in the script. Can you think of any actors whose eyes tell their story as much as anything? Here are a couple of my favorites: Conrad Veidt. His eyes are always expressive, but especially in two films I viewed recently, The Man Who Laughs (1928), and Contraband (1940) Vivien Leigh. Especially memorable in Waterloo Bridge (1940) and Anna Karenina (1948).

Ever wonder how decisions were made when it came to casting alleged brothers and sisters? Was it looking anything alike? Not necessarily, especially when you had folks under contract in the old days. Here's a few close relatives who appear to have been left on the doorstep. George Sanders & Yul Brynner in Solomon & Sheba. It must've been an equally unlikely duo before Tyrone Power died. Barbara Lawrence & Linda Darnell in A Letter to Three Wives. At least Babs looks like Connie Gilchrist, who plays her ma. Any others?

The sentimentality of Beryl Mercer as Ma Powers in Public Enemy (1931) would've made anyone kill---including her son, Tom (James Cagney). I always thought that she was annoyingly sweet. The filmmakers probably intended her as a nice counterpoint to the violence surrounding the film, but perhaps the decision to have Mercer play her this way was meant to highlight the lack of maturity--not to mention poor impulse control--that the Cagney character is burdened with throughout the film. Or she may have been a sop to those who felt that gangster films needed to have an uplifting social value theme. Regardless, Mercer gives me cavities. Jane Darwell's stoic Ma Joad is a marked contrast to this---she's a maternal figure who evokes feelings of true sentiment throughout The Grapes of Wrath, but without being cloying. Btw, both films are treasured by me for different reasons, of course.

Politics aside, and to return, at least momentarily, to the subject of cynical characters, Richard Widmark's remarkably corrupt pickpocket in Samuel Fuller's corrosive Pickup on South Street(1953) more than fills the bill as a cynic--he personifies it and redefines it in even darker hues than previously seen in movies. The cops confront him with the charge that he may have unwittingly lifted some stolen state secrets when picking a billfold from a hot babe's purse on the subway, (said purse was on the arm of Jean Peters, who probably couldn't sit down in any of her dresses in this movie!). He laughs in their face when they try to appeal to his latent patriotism by mentioning the commie threat at the time, asking "Are you waving the flag at ME?" Of course, even Widmark has limits to his cynicism. In his own bleak moral view, he seems to respect the Thelma Ritter character, who is a stoolie and has fingered him to the authorities--for a price, of course. Like him, Ritter's just another piece of street flotsam, just trying to get by, a little more tired and bemused than most---a brilliantly and economically drawn portrait by La Ritter. You may be a little sadder and wiser after viewing this movie--and you may even feel like a shower. But you won't forget this sojourn into cynicism.

Sometimes it might be called downtime, or the golden moment, or the blue hour,(l'heure bleue in French), which refers to the often magical hour experienced between the hours of daylight and darkness, but might refer any ideal time of day. L'heure bleue is sometimes recalled by the quality of the light at this time of day and because in the summer this is often when the smell of the flowers is at their strongest. In a sense, it's an indefinable something that make certain times of day a different, richer experience--as different as night and day. Whatever it is, it struck me recently that there are certain films that are probably ideal viewing at night, but seem odd during the day. On the other hand, some movies are better in the early morning. Do you have a favorite time of day for a particular kind of movie experience?

Jack, I wish that you'd seen this movie too. I realize that Keel would've been a lad of 19 at the time of this movie, but if and when you get to see it, I hope that you'll let me know if it was he...surely, IMDb can be wrong? Balalaika doesn't seem to be on the immediate horizon for the TCM schedule, but perhaps if we beg TCM? When you do have a chance to see this movie, I think that you'll find the songs and side work by Frank Morgan, C. Aubrey Smith, and especially Charlie Ruggles and George Tobias(in a little part as a bartender) to be quite delightful. I'm saying that, and I'm not even a real Nelson Eddy fan! As to Philip Terry: Yes, he was noticeably charming and smoothly handsome as one of Eddy's cossack buddies, and he has several references in the last sequences to "being at his wife's service" that, in retrospect, and given his marital history with Ms. Crawford, seem to be all too apt. Poor schmiel. I noticed that Balalaika is now available on dvd from Amazon as a NTSC compatible disc imported from, of all places, Brazil! And yes, it's in English. Hmmm, $26.95 or an 8 buck used vhs video that's also available...decisions, decisions.

There does seem to be a dearth of biographical material about Dana Andrews, whose just-a-regular-Joe persona was often so effective. His interesting blend of gritty, depression-toughened vulnerability came through most vividly in the forties as one of the victims in The Ox Bow Incident, a bone weary **** in A Walk in the Sun, as Fred Derry in Best Years of Our Lives, as the detective in Laura, as the cop gone over the edge in Where the Sidewalk Ends and even in a little soaper with Joan Crawford, as an unfaithful husband in the uneven, but interesting Daisy Kenyon. After this exceptionally good run of films, it seems as though something died in him--I guess the booze just rendered him incapable of being that reliable or open an actor again. I once read a bio of William Wyler in which Teresa Wright commented on the tension created between the director and Andrews on the set of BYOL because of the actor's drinking, even at that relatively early stage of his career. And, of course, the demise of the studios meant that he'd have to struggle along with only his inner career compass to guide him after this fruitful period. I do remember his public service announcements on tv when I was a kid talking frankly about the toll of alcoholism on his life, family and career. They were as impressive as the memorable Yul Brynner "don't smoke" commercials. He really is underappreciated.

I just caught 1939's very good, unappreciated Nelson Eddy-Ilona Massey operetta, Balalaika(1939) on TCM this afternoon. I was delighted with the wonderful ensemble cast, especially Charlie Ruggles, C. Aubrey Smith and Frank Morgan, who was very touching. Another plus was the Russian-style singing and the last couple of sequences of the film were especially well done, in particular during the scenes in the trenches during WWI and the last scenes in Paris. During the WWI combat segment of the film, Nelson Eddy's character attempts to discipline a discouraged enlisted man who's fallen asleep on duty and is worried about his family, who have been desperately searching for bread at home. A moment later Eddy is shown a bottle of alcohol during a celebration of Russian Orthodox Christmas and, on impulse, he gives it to the man he has just chided, much to the chagrin of his fellow officers. The man takes the bottle, looks at it resentfully and smashes it against a rock in anger once Eddy leaves. The man later appears to take part in the revolt of the men against the officers. Could this man have been played by Howard Keel? It looks and sounds just like him, (big and burly with a deep bass speaking voice), though I don't see his name anywhere in the credits at the end of the film or on IMDb. If you're a sharp-eyed Keel fan, could you please let me know if it was an very early appearance by him? Thank you in advance for any info.

Does anyone know of a book about the history of screenwriters of the studio era for the general reader? Aside from individual biographies and autobiographies of such writers as Frances Marion, Herman and Joseph Mankiewicz, Philip Dunne and S. J. Perelman, I've never come across a comprehensive book specifically focused on the contributions and problems of working in the studios during the twenties through the fifties. I'd appreciate any informed suggestions. Thanks in advance for any help.

Patful, you've reminded me of election night in 1980 when my college campus theatre showed Bedtime for Bonzo starring of course, a chimp, Walter Slezak, Diana Lynn, and, oh yes, the president-elect that night, Ronald Reagan. Needless to say, the student audience didn't behave with the dignity or solemnity that the day demanded and most of their loudly mouthed replies to the innocuous flick cannot be repeated on a family website. I'm sure that a good time was had by all though. And Reagan, whether you like him or hate him, emerged with his dignity intact. Though it's probably just as well that he got out of acting profession, (at least formally).

A couple of the classic cynics on film were Humphrey Bogart and William Holden. Bogart was never an eager beaver idealist--he had to be forced into a corner physically and psychologically by the bad guys in order to bring him to take action against them. As his characters might say, "Even if it was against [his] better judgement." As in Casablanca, when he's reminded that he's worked for the republicans in the Spanish Civil War, he reminds the authorities that he was well-paid for running guns to them--only to be told that the other side would have paid him more. Even in earlier films such as The Petrified Forest(1936), Bogey's seen it all--he's a man who's physically and spiritually exhausted, though he does express a slightly sadistic appreciation for Leslie Howard's hopelessly idealistic character. William Holden started off his movie career playing alot of what he himself called "Smiling Jim" parts in such doozies as I Wanted Wings and Blaze of Noon, but working with Billy Wilder after the war, in such corrosive films as Sunset Boulevard and Stalag 17 he soared when he had a chance to play truly jaundiced men, for whom the milk of human kindness had long since curdled. This aspect of his acting style probably found its apotheosis in the interesting failure department filed under the title, S.O.B.(1981), which was, unfortunately, his last movie. Another actor whose seemingly bland persona is most familiar to many viewers who only know him from tv's My Three Sons is Fred MacMurray, who, despite some serious reservations on the actor's part, played deeply cynical guys brilliantly in the work of that maestro of cynicism, Billy Wilder, in Double Indemnity and The Apartment. Audiences with longer memories might've glimpsed the harder edges to his talent in depression era films such as Swing High, Swing Low, and the fifties' The Caine Mutiny and The Rains of Ranchipur. Still another interesting member of the cynic's gallery would be Dick Powell, who starting in Murder, My Sweet in the forties emerged from his somewhat foolish boy singer phase to play rather seedy fellows doing things that definitely won't win him the hand of Ruby Keeler. He does these parts extremely well in such noirish films as Cornered, Johnny O'Clock and Cry Danger. And he's a more likable actor as well.

Your post was beautifully expressed, Dan. It reminded me that John Mahoney of "Frasier" could play a father on film like no one else in contemporary movies. In Cameron Crowe's Say Anything(1989) he does a masterful job as a protective dad struggling to control his impulse to shelter his beloved daughter. For me, he's usually the best actor in just about any movie or tv show he appears in. Completely believable and man, what a way with a line. For classic studio era fathers, Claude Rains played a variety, from the wandering n'er do well in Daughters Courageous to the disturbed, loving and murderous father in King's Row to the deeply loving dad in Mr. Skeffington. It's just occurred to me--how seldom, if ever, the two icons of film, Humphrey Bogart and James Cagney--played fathers! Bogart was a father in Black Legion and Cagney in One, Two, Three but, heck, what others can anyone remember? Guess that a couple of rugrats would've cramped their style, eh?

In honor of America's Independence Day, I wonder if anyone's interested in discussing movies that touch on personal declarations of independence, however you interpret that experience. Here's a few that I've liked... Across the Wide Missouri(1951): in which Clark Gable was one of the mountain men who lived in the wilderness and "who died unnamed and found immortality". Hokey, I guess--but I liked it as a kid. Still do. Now, Voyager(1941): when Charlotte Vale (Bette Davis) finally and explicitly stands up to her mother's psychological bullying by declaring that "I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid, mother. I'm not afraid." It's such a beautiful moment, especially since as Davis says these words, she seems to have just discovered that it's true in that instant. Dodsworth(1936): after all, as Sam (Walter Huston) states as he escapes from his bloodsucking spouse (Ruth Chatterton), "Love has got to stop some place short of suicide." It's exhilarating and comical simultaneously, though director William Wyler almost allows the viewer to feel a second of pity for Ruth Chatterton as the wife, though this is overridden by the matching of Chatterton's howl of pain with the wail of the ship's whistle as the boat begins to embark from the port. If you think about it, she has been struggling--blindly and vainly--for independence throughout the film too. I guess since she doesn't seem to have any real self awareness, and certainly little compassion for others, she's doomed. A very interesting, multi-layered movie.

Great idea for a thread, lzcutter. It's interesting to me that memorable introductory shots may be in films that aren't necessarily great cinema, but simply good, entertaining movies. The mention of the iconic first glimpse of John Wayne in Stagecoach reminded me that a similar shot filmed several years later features a somewhat more battered looking Wayne loping along carrying his saddle in Hondo. Probably intended as a sort of homage to the earlier movie. In a similar vein, the introduction of John Garfield in Four Daughters(1938), was the basis of the later Young at Heart with Sinatra in the Garfield role. The original film helped make a star of Garfield. Here's a few more that seem memorable to me: William Holden in the pool in Sunset Boulevard(1951) Gary Cooper in the quarry in The Fountainhead(1948) Alida Valli in gaol in The Paradine Case(1947) Lynn Redgrave swinging her handbag in Georgy Girl Robert Walker, or rather his shoes, in Strangers on a Train(1951) Moira Shearer looking luminous in The Red Shoes(1948) Julie Christie wrapped in a muffler on the Moscow streetcar in Dr. Zhivago(1965) Jane Seymour in Somewhere in Time(1980) John Travolta strutting along in Saturday Night Fever(1978) Maureen O'Hara in The Quiet Man(1952) If I may be permitted to stretch the definition of a character, the following "landscapes" are, in a sense, characters in the movie: The long opening montage of the NYC skyline in Manhattan(1978) The opening sequence showing the garbage being picked up in Venice in Trouble in Paradise(1932). By gondola, of course. The Train in Murder on the Orient Express(1974) And for non-visual character introduction there are: Letter from an Unknown Woman(1948) in which we first meet the "unknown woman"(Joan Fontaine)in a missive sent to Louis Jourdan that begins "By the time you read this letter, I may be dead." A Letter to Three Wives(1949) in which the spouses in question receive a letter just as they are about to board a boat for a daytrip from the town femme fatale, Addie Ross. She informs them that she is running away with one of their husbands. The narrative voice for Addie Ross, (who's never seen) belonged to Celeste Holm.

One of the most delightful aspects of dvds seems to be the inclusion of extras such as behind the scenes featurettes, historical perspectives, and best of all, audio commentaries by knowledgable people. Of course, there are also dvds with extras that disappoint the eager classic movie fan. Do you have any favorite dvd commentaries to recommend or dvd duds to warn others to avoid in the future? I'd really appreciate any comments that you might have about this topic. Here are two examples of some good, and not so good dvd extras that I've enjoyed: A DVD Delight. To me, for example, one of the best dvds to ever come out was The Adventures of Robin Hood(1938). It included a terrific audio commentary by Rudy Behler, behind the scenes footage and stills as well as alot of the wonderful costume designs of Milo Anderson, a short film about Errol Flynn and his nautical adventures and even a brief feature on Howard Hill, whose prowess with a bow was used throughout the film. And I haven't even mentioned the cartoons that are part of the package! Of course, it probably didn't hurt that this delightful movie is one of my lifetime favorites, either. A DVD Disappointment. Like most children raised in the sixties and seventies, I was eager to see The High and the Mighty after it had languished on the shelf for due to business disputes for years following the death of John Wayne, who was great in the movie. On the plus side, I roped in my family and friends to watch it with me and we laughed, cheered, and got choked up all the way through it, especially during the approach to San Francisco. The dvd transfer was clear and excellent, though having first seen the film in b&w, I'd no idea that the restored color would be so dazzlingly bright in that fifties way! That whistling theme of Dmitri Tiomkin was totally haunting and the featurette about his life work was very well done. I especially enjoyed the segment devoted to Ernest K. Gann, the author of the novel and screenplay. As a longtime aviation nut, I'd devoured his books as a teen, and treasure his autobiography, "A Hostage to Fortune". However, when it came to the audio commentary, Leonard Maltin's meandering comments made me wonder if he'd prepared any notes for the commentary. He repeated what few facts he had mastered repeatedly, he interrupted the potentially interesting comments of William Wellman Jr. about his father more than once, and he neglected to mention much about such actors as Robert Newton and Jan Sterling. He seemed to have felt that the only film credit viewers would know or care about for Newton was as Long John Silver in the Disneyized version of Treasure Island in a tv series feature presentation that he'd seen as a kid. Hello, Leonard--ever hear of a little classic called Major Barbara(1941), or Odd Man Out(1947) or Oliver Twist(1948)?? And he never mentioned Jan Sterling's fine performance, among others, in Ace in the Hole(1951), which I consider pretty unforgivable. The inclusion of comments by Karen Sharpe who played the young woman who was returning on her honeymoon from Hawaii was probably based on the fact that a.) she was alive, unlike most of the cast, and b.) this seems to have been the highlight of her career. Lastly, on the positive side, I liked the observations of Pedro Gonzales-Gonzales and aviation expert Vincent Longo was very informative. But, heck, Mr. Maltin, do some real homework next time, will you?

Vincent Sherman gave me great enjoyment through his well written, humorous and compassionate memoir, "Studio Affairs" as well as his movies, especially in two of his most diverse projects. Both films contain characteristic Sherman motifs: the little guys against the bullies, snappy, streetsmart dialogue and that electric, hectic Warner Brothers' trademark, speed. The Hard Way, was a little movie with a great performance drawn from a reluctant Ida Lupino*, a meaty role for Jack Carson, and imaginative camera work from James Wong Howe. Lupino created one of her very best performances here, full of a terrible-to-behold drive coupled with a vulnerability being furiously suppressed. It was up there with The Light That Failed and They Drive By Night, for unfocused anger bordering on insanity and contained elements of her tender performances in Deep Valley and On Dangerous Ground, at least for my money. Working in a somewhat different vein, the chaotic wartime romp, All Through the Night featured some pretty lively and spontaneous performances from a plethora of talented folks at Warners during that period, from Bogart to Conrad Veidt to Lorre to Judith Anderson. Crikey, what a funny brew of character acting it made, even after they threw in brief appearances from those refugees from burlesque--Phil Silvers and Jackie Gleason. Yes, it was basically Damon Runyon Meets the Nazis, as the publicists claimed. No points for guessing who won this match. War was, at least in that movie, all a game played in fun. Especially in the doubletalk scene between Bogie and William Demarest during a Fifth Columnist meeting. I envy Cinesage for having had the pleasure of Vincent Sherman's company. Ave Atque vale, Mr. Sherman. Your rest is well earned. *It seems that Ms. Lupino didn't like playing her driven character, according to Mr. Sherman's memories. He had to coax and inveigle her Oscar nominated performance from her despite her determination to try to get out of The Hard Way.

Just in case you missed it, the press released a story late last week that Miss De Havilland has just signed a deal with Houghton Mifflin to publish her memoirs. No publication date has been announced, but it sounds like the long-awaited autobiography is a step closer to becoming an actuality.

Larry, It sounds as though Al Gore's documentary left you stimulated rather than just in despair, which, having viewed Bowling for Columbine recently, is good to know. The latter film left me rather depressed about the future of the world and the ability of anyone to change it. I also didn't like Michael Moore's egotistical attitude, even though he was telling some important truths about our society, imho. I will probably see An Inconvenient Truth eventually, in part, because of your recommendation. On a completely different note, I saw Finding Neverland yesterday. Having read and enjoyed "J.M. Barrie and the Lost Boys: the Real Story Behind Peter Pan" by Andrew Birkin, I was hoping that the film would deal with the complex relationship of Barrie to the family who inspired Peter Pan and the world of Edwardian London and the theatre. Barrie was, in modern terms, talented commercial playwright and a conflicted man who could not form what most people would regard, then or now, as mature, close relationships. The Llewelyn Davies family had one tragedy after another, a fate that followed its members to the end of their lives. The movie drastically oversimplifies and telescopes events and distorts personalities, especially that played by Julie Christie as Mrs. Du Maurier. Of the children, the boy who plays Peter is the best drawn character, and very well acted by Freddie Highmore. I can't say that Johnny Depp's performance did alot for me either--and he can be a highly entertaining actor in many cases. Maybe I'd have enjoyed it more if I hadn't read the book and realized that the real story is much richer than the one the filmmakers chose to tell. But of course, that wouldn't have made for a neatly told movie.

Signs(2002) is another interesting, slowly unfolding story that Gibson was involved in. He also produced, and appeared in an effective bit part at the end in a film that I loved: Fairy Tale(1997) about an actual case at the end of WWI when two little girls claimed to be photographing fairies in the woods near their home. Their claims intrigued an enormous number of people in a war weary time, including Arthur Conan Doyle, (played by Peter O'Toole, despite the fact that Conan Doyle was quite portly). I think that Mel Gibson has a strong affinity for working with children, as evidenced by these two films and the aforementioned Man Without a Face. I guess that may be one of the advantages of having seven offspring, eh? Hey David--no, I wasn't thinking of Sky King and Penny when I picked songbird as my name, though your reference to them made laugh. Actually, I'd recently been reading the new bio of Peggy Lee, called "Fever" by Peter Richmond and since she always struck me as quite the songbird...thus my moniker. Good book, complicated and talented lady, btw. Funny that you should mention Fantasia, one of the few classic cartoons I've never seen--"Night on Bald Mountain" is still a piece of dramatic music to my ears. I couldn't help think of another piece of music that's forever tainted for me, however, thanks to my exposure to American popular culture over a lifetime. Bruce Springsteen's "You're Riding in My Car" echoes for me with an inspired bit that Robin Williams did back in the days when he was just trying to be a wonderful clown, not an actor who seems to specialize in playing serial killers. He sang the lyrics just as Elmer Fudd would've--and it came out something like this: Youwe widing in my caw, I tuwn on the wadio,/ I'm puhhing you cwosew/ you say you don't wike it/ but I know yoew a wiarrrrr/'cause when we kwiss...owww...Fiawa!"

Pardon me while I off my sunglasses, TCM. Oh, the humanity...Ayeee! Turn off the sun, please.

I'd never heard of her before either Sandy. She was quite a stunning woman, who apparently packed alot into her time on earth. Thanks for bringing her to my attention.

Nice story about the Hollywoodized statue of William Wallace/Mel Gibson, David. It reminds me of an experience that my professional artist uncle had in the mid-1950s. He was commisioned to illustrate a new hardcover edition of Moby Dick. He completed several illustrations, incorporating his extensive knowledge of Melville's story and the sea into each illustration. The publishers were happy with his work--up to a point--except for the cover image of Ahab. They repeatedly sent it back to him to be reworked and finally told him that they were looking for something alot more like Gregory Peck, who, of course, had played the Captain of the Pequod in the John Huston film of that period. Uncle Charlie, who had five children and a mortgage to meet, finally delivered an Ahab with a slightly chiseled Peckish jawline and some truly crazy looking grey eyes--but he never liked himself for doing it! Btw, whenever I've found a copy of this edition in a used book store, it's priced higher whenever it includes the "Gregory Peck" looking dust jacket! Charlie's illustrations in the interiors of the deluxe edition don't include anyone who looks as streamlined as the actor, I'm happy to report.

Thanks for the heads up about Lady on the Train, Jack. For the novice Deanna Durbin viewer, what movie(s) should they ideally choose to see? Please feel free to chime in anyone.

How about Thomas Mitchell? I'm always frustrated watching such films as Mr. Smith Goes to Washington due to the fact that, for all his flaws, Mitchell's slightly cynical, wistful character is much more appealing than the callow James Stewart, (who, imo, only became interesting later after the war and w/ Anthony Mann & Alfred Hitchcock on hand to guide him). Jean, hey, you, Jean Arthur--wake up and smell the coffee! In Only Angels Have Wings and Adventure his death scene pas de deux with Cary Grant and Clark Gable respectively are wonderful. What a scene stealer.