misswonderly3

Dargo baby, I realized my horrible mistake later that evening, while brushing my teeth. How could I have thought "Jean" was a "Jane"? It's not even a pallindrome palindrome. O, wot a fool I must appear in the eyes of the world - or at least the TCM message boards. However, you will be glad to know that I have rectified the gaffe. Go back and re-read the offending post and you'll see I've acknowledged my stupidity, and at the same time given Jean a little quip of her own. This is why it's good to brush one's teeth. You never know when you'll remember some glaring error you've made and figure out a way to fix it. "Damn straight, mizzwannabe or whatever yer name iz."

WHATEVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANES? Every actress named "Jane" meets up in a fierce competition to decide who is the cutest and most fondly remembered of all the Janes who ever appeared on a movie screen. A virtual crazy house of Janes ensues, including Wyman, Powell, Greer, Russell, Harlow, and even, in a special featured guest appearance, Darwell. An exciting assortment of Jane games is played, including who can serve up the most dead rats, who will wear the strangest wigs, and which Jane gets to psychologically torture the other Janes the most cruelly. "Just wait till the other Janes see what I've been a-cookin' up here." "This beats anything the original Baby Jane ever put on her head." "I don't know why they're dragging me into this. Somebody got some letters reversed."

Greetings, TCM message board friends. I recently had reason to delete a bunch of my private messages (some of which, I'm embarrassed to say, went back to 2014. Yikes !) My "mailbox" here was at 100% full capacity for ages - months and months. This is because I am a sentimentalist, and reluctant to delete even the briefest most impersonal pm I receive. (Although being the verbose writer that I am, I'm sorry to say that most of the pms I write are not "brief". Or impersonal.) I've been too lazy, and too unwilling to take the time, to copy and paste these old pms onto some kind of Word document on my laptop (also, I have a very basic laptop that doesn't even have a normal Word program...). And anyway, to be honest, although I like the idea of hanging on to all these private messages, how often would I actually go back and read them? Probably never. So, the purpose of this thread is to ask: what do the rest of you do about this? Do you ruthlessly delete all pms after a certain time has elapsed? (Like, maybe a day? or week?) Or are you reluctant to lose these personal communications, and transfer them into some kind of other document file on your computer? I think, when you opt to delete a pm here, a message comes up claiming that it will be transferred to your email. But this does not happen. And anyway, that would just clutter up my email. I know this is not exactly an earth-shattering problem, but I'm just curious to know what systems others here have of managing their private messages. I'm guessing most of you just delete them as you go along? Probably the best thing to do; saving year-old pms is just rank sentimentalism.

Thanks, Lawrence. On January 11th, I always think of this pleasing tune: (Even though it's not a Steely Dan song):

I have to say, I have not seen The Heart of a Dog. Perhaps it's as rubbishy as you claim. However, I am just a little annoyed by your write -up here. First, because you never state who made this autobiographical documentary, who it's about. It was made by Laurie Anderson, celebrated NYC- based performance artist and long-time partner of the great Lou Reed. It seems to me if people are going to discuss a film they've seen here, it behooves them to cite details about that film, such as who made it. Second: Are you always so literal about film titles? Although I haven't seen Heart of a Dog, I did hear an interview with Laurie Anderson about the film. She's quite open as to its subject matter. It's very common for filmmakers to give their creations titles that don't always have a direct, literal, connection with the content of their film. Sometimes the title is a metaphor, or an allusion to something that happens or is spoken of in the film. True, she does talk about her beloved dog, but to approach this movie with the assumption that it would be all about dogs seems a bit simplistic to me. Maybe you would not have been so disappointed and outraged if you'd looked up something about the movie first, before watching it.

I am honoured to say I was born on the same date (but not the same year) as the great Donald Fagin.

Speedy, if you're interested in discovering more Ray Milland movies, I recommend you look out for Ministry of Fear. A plus for this film right from the get-go is, it's directed by the great Fritz Lang. So right there, you know you've got something interesting. It's a bit noirish, but is really more a war ( as in Second World War) spy thriller; it's also a bit of a comedy in some moments, and of course, there's a nice little romance going on,too. In fact, Ministry of Fear is the complete package: suspenseful, funny, intriguing, - just a fine little piece of entertainment. And Ray Milland delivers his usual charming Millandian performance. Hard not to like this actor. Check it out if you get the chance. And oh yes...you'll think twice before you eat cake again. Especially if it's handed to you at a town fair.

Yes. "If You Could Read My Mind" has to one of the most heart-breaking songs ever about the end of a relationship. He absolutely captures, in a few simple poetic words, all its sadness and bewilderment. A song about grown-ups. And the melody is just as powerful and beautiful as the lyrics. An unforgettable song.

No. I don't suppose you read my post about this?

Good question, Marysara. I think Lester was already married - to Irene. Although I've referred to her as his "tart on the side", that was a little unfair of me. When you first hear the two of them in private conversation, there are a few things said that indicate Irene was, and still is, his wife. Good point about the ring, too.

Highway; I'm very impressed that you know about Gram Parsons. Few people - even hard core music fans - seem to be familiar with the music of this talented guy who revived ( and maybe reinvented) country /"roots" music in the late '60s. He wrote some great songs, and doesn't get enough credit for that. He was, like so many legendary musicians of that era, a casualty of drug abuse, and died tragically young. Thank you for posting something by him. ("That said", I should note that "The Russians are Coming" was not typical of Parsons' songwriting.) Here's one of his saddest and most beautiful songs:

I don't want to derail this thread topic from Sudden Fear to Gloria Grahame, but I have to say, I am a huge fan of G.G. I don't think I've ever seen a film with her that her presence didn't somehow add to the rating - at the very least, the entertainment value - of the film. She had a presence unlike any other female star's...an inscrutable quality, almost mysterious (except, of course, Ado Annie.) There's something about her eyes. It's the way she looks at whoever she's talking to- especially men. The expression in her eyes is direct and compelling, almost challenging sometimes. Also, she's one of those actresses who can look exceptionally pretty sometimes, and almost plain other times. Kind of what Jerry Seinfeld once called a "Two-Face". But mostly she's attractive - sexy rather than beautiful. In fact, I'd say she was one of the sexiest actresses of the classic Hollywood era. I picked this photo because I think it's a good example of what I was saying about her eyes.

Like her character in Elmer Gantry, for instance?

I didn't think you were being critical about it. And you're right, Ado Annie is miles away from the kind of character G.G. usually played.

I dunno, but somebody made a right decision. I love Oklahoma! anyway, but the casting of Gloria Grahame as Ado Annie was inspired....the icing on this Rogers and Hammerstein cake for me. Who knew this sexy woman who usually played in noirs would be such a natural as the goofy, funny, libidinous Ado Annie? She's so funny in this film, playing dumb and smart at the same time. And she can sing ! ...sort of. I actually enjoy her off-key warbling, it suits the songs she sings, and her character. Ado Annie doesn't need to have a fine singing voice like Laurey does, she just needs to get her character across in song. * Hey, to the glorious Gloria in Oklahoma ! , I can't say no. * Thank god they didn't have auto-tuning back then. Auto-tuning is something that belongs in one of Dante's nine circles of hell.

On the Canadian music thread (thank you, db, for starting that), there's a bit of a discussion about Gordon Lightfoot, and what a good songwriter he was (is.) Here's an exquisitely beautiful rendition of a G.L. song, by another Canadian, Sarah McLachlan. I love the why she softly repeats the last word of every line. The whole thing comes dangerously close to bathos, but it's such a lovely song to begin with, and Sarah has the class to take her version safely over the line to genuine emotion ( as opposed to sentimentality.) Also, given the description of the cold dark winter's night, it's almost Christmassy. blahblah. I shouldn't talk so much.

Good one, Hibs !

Yikes ! Hibi baby, thank you...how could I have mentioned the actress, the character, and even the setting, without mentioning the NAME OF THE DAMN FILM ? ! Yes, of course, Out of the Past. I am an idiot for not naming it. I wasn't doing some obnoxious "Oh, everyone knows this movie so I don't have to give its title" thing, I just forgot !

No. Did you doze off during the scene in which Joan and Gloria are having pre-party cocktails, and Joan sort of apologizes to Gloria for wearing the same colour gown that Gloria's wearing (white.) There's no reason for that bit of dialogue, other than to draw the audience's attention to the fact that the two women are dressed alike. So it's not a coincidence that Jack thinks Gloria is Joan; they are wearing almost identical outfits - white dress, brown fur coat, white head scarf. It's all set up for Jack to make that mistake.

Thought I'd do a little write-up of Sudden Fear. Although technically classified as a noir, Sudden Fear is actually in that category of film known as the Joan-o-drama. Most of these are quasi noirs, but with the addition of Joan Crawford's special "woman's picture" (as they were called then) trope of a bright career woman who falls in love with the wrong guy. You always get lots of Joan segueing from self-possessed in-control business boss to emotional wreck lady, including many close-ups of Joan looking intensely frightened / furious / obsessed / panic-stricken or any combination of the above. That all sounds a bit smart-azzy, and I apologize for that, because in fact, I really like Joan-o-dramas. They're invariably fascinating and fun to watch. And they've got that spoonful of noir I love. Anyway - Sudden Fear is an absolutely classic Joan-o-drama. Joan starts out as her usual poised capable boss lady, in this case a playwright - a rich playwright - rich from an inheritance, although her plays do pretty well in their own write (sorry). She meets and of course falls in love with the disturbingly odd- looking ( as Eugenia put it, I think) Jack Palance. Oh, Joan, little do you know he's only out for your money. And he's got a sexy tart on the side. Between Jack and the tart, a plan is hatched to do away with Joan before she can give away all her inheritance (oh Joan, why would you want to do that?) so Jack, the loving husband, can have it all bequeathed to him. There's a turning-point in Sudden Fear where you have to reach out for your suspension-of-disbelief hat. Joan, being the efficient play writer that she is, keeps a recording device handy in her office, so she can dictate her drama scenes to it and then transcribe them later. She inadvertently leaves the machine on, which conveniently allows her to hear Lester and Irene (Jack and Gloria) scheming to murder Myra - and murder her asap, before she has her birthday (sweet 35, I suspect she's supposed to be, although our Joan was probably closer to the other side of 45...) Myra hears everything, recorded as it is on her dictation machine. Now, here's where the title of the film really fits the action (sometimes noir titles don't match the movie's story at all...). Myra hears everything Lester and Irene say, including Lester's declaration that he can hardly stand Myra ( bad enough) as well as their hard-boiled intentions to kill her, and kill her soon. You actually, literally, see sudden fear seizing Myra, body and soul. This is where Joan's specialty for hamming it up a bit with the intense faces she makes really works, and is something to see. Joan's face registers surprise, disbelief, pain, anger, and fear- more like terror - all in the space of a few minutes. This is one reason why I love Joan-o-dramas. The suspension-of-disbelief part kicks in right about now. Anyone else, or at least anyone who wasn't in a movie, would 1) carefully take the recording and put it in an envelope; 2) LEAVE THE HOUSE IMMEDIATELY and 3)Tell someone - not the police, maybe, as someone's pointed out ,Myra had a lot of pride and might not want everyone to know her husband was plotting to murder her - - but how about good old dependable Bruce Bennett ? He'd know what to do, he'd help her. But no, Joan does none of the above. She gets the idea she should hide the record in a book - a book from the very top shelf of her library - and of course breaks the record in the attempt to stash it there. Then she goes to bed - alone in the night in the house with the man who wants her dead. Then she hatches a scheme to turn the tables and have him killed. There are so many instances where she's alone with the homicidal Jack, and where it would be the easiest thing in the world for him to murder her and make it look like an accident. How 'bout the scene where he carries her up the stairs, after she's pretended to break her ankle? But this is quibbling, and misses the point of the film, which is to watch Joan doing what Joan does best, smiling to the world and looking glamourous whilst all the time hiding a broken heart, and a terrified psyche. The last half hour of Sudden Fear is a pure noir treat. I love it that Joan and Gloria are both wearing the same outfits...... that we see Joan running around and hiding and biting her lip and her handkerchief, trying to flee her husband's inexorable search for her, all on those rain-slicked hilly dark San Francisco streets. San Francisco, by the way, is a candidate for the best noir city location. I love every movie I've ever seen that's set there. Anyway, let go of any "that just wouldn't happen, she just wouldn't do that" attitude, and you'll have a ball watching Sudden Fear.

Ya think?

Well, that was key, what was written on those two notes - one a fake note Joan wrote to Palance's character, the other an equally fake note to Gloria's. Joan's plan hinged upon the two of them acting upon those notes, so if you couldn't read what they said, it's no wonder you were confused. Get one of those granny necklaces that hold your glasses around your neck - then you never lose them. (You might look ridiculous, but at least you'll never lose your glasses. Which is more important? )

...Or at the very least, guarantee that no strumpets were harmed in the making of the film. (in which case, it wouldn't pass, as G.G.'s character was definitely harmed.)

I wish this pic were bigger and brighter, but you get the idea. Note the slightly raised, bare knee, along with the look on Gloria's face.

Damned straight, scuzzy ! I loved the film, but I couldn't help thinking both those things, ie, 1) Why oh why didn't Myra just put the fateful record in an envelope ( her desk was right there) and then 2) Contact Bruce Bennett and tell him all about it. ...But then, of course, there'd have been no story.