slaytonf

It certainly wasn't as bad as some of the prints for the Michael Powell films they showed today. The Spy in Black was especially bad. But you cannot justifiably call them doctored. They are prints of prints of prints, which sometimes is all that is available for TCM to get.

Different hat, different hat. Derby? No. Boater? No. Panama? Pat O'Brien.

Duffy (1968) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0062917/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1 The Greeks Had a Word For Them (1932) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0022961/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1

You lucky. What led me to his name was precisely my recognition of him from You Only Live Twice.

Tetsur? Tanba

You got her Fred! People will most likely know her from Yasujiro Ozu's Tokyo Story, where she plays an ungrateful daughter to an elderly couple.

I couldn't see it before, but now I can. Can't explain it.

The first time I couldn't see a pic, but your link works. Still don't know the guy.

>missw: >I still disagree with you. There is a difference between an intelligent and creative director integrating some kind of reference or homage to an earlier film into his work, and simply being trendy and derivative. Great minds can differ. I still wonder if there are earlier examples than the ones I saw in the Ozu films (pre 1932). Admittedly, there's not much film history before that. Ozu's references are interesting in that he is acknowledging his, and by extension, Japanese film's, debt to American film for inspiration--as did later the French New Wavers.

A great lady of film:

I think us pathetic face guessers need a hint, gagman66.

No hint of a hint.

To be clear: what makes me cringe is when a famous scene from a movie is recreated or echoed in a film. This usually, no, almost always has no relevance to the action of the movie, but is an odd, extraneous, and distracting element thrown in for--what reason? Beats me. Now if a director has an impulse to express her love and admiration for another film, or director, or just movies in general, and chooses to do so with a reference in a film she is making, she should resist it. The other kinds of references, like posters or films on TVs, I don't mind, though they usually strike me as obvious. As for what Mel Brooks and Woody Allen do, of course it's of a different order. As I said, Brooks' best work could be classed as an extended take-off on other movies--is there a more hilarious scene than the one between Peter Boyle as the Monster and Gene Hackman as the hermit in Young Frankenstein, a clear rip-off from Bride of Frankenstein? I've started watching Manhattan Murder Mystery a couple of times, misswonderly, but I never got into it more than fifteen minutes or so. Aside from Annie Hall, I only seem to like Woody Allen's early films. I think a distinction has to be made between the use of techniques developed by others and specific allusions to scenes, or lines from movies. Someone had to do the first dissolve. Someone had to do the first tracking shot. Someone had to do the first overhead shot, or low-angle shot. But using these techniques is a vastly different thing from calling up a scene, or detail from another particular movie.

This involves a son, not a daughter, and it's the son who encounters the father in his dance studio, but maybe it'll strike a cord: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dance_with_Me_(film)

Ralph Graves for the man?

cf. also Lady With Red Hair, on early tomorrow morning. Not exactly the same as the others. The separation element is there, but not the reunion.

Hey, fredbaetz and Swithin, you are correct! Here's a screen shot of the poster. First, I have to say it's from a different Ozu film, Where Now Are the Dreams of Youth (1932). What can I say? I've been watching a lot of early Ozu films and they are running like raw eggs in my brain. I couldn't make out the title on the poster just freezing the play, but a screen shot brings out the details: A simple google search (at least the one I did) doesn't bring up this poster design.

To be blunt, if not harsh, misswonderly, I don't like seeing someone use another's creativity to gain a footing with an audience. Your mention of Woody Allen reminds me of his Play it Again, Sam, an extended take on the Bogart mythology and Casablanca. Not too far off topic, obrienmundy. Grist for the mill. Though I never watched the show and don't know how they handled it.

I recorded it and watched it. It's a good early effort on Joan's part. A little too full of noble sacrifice for my tastes, but it affords her the chance for some good moments. One disconcerting element was that there seemed to be more chemistry between her and Robert Armstrong than with Kent Douglass. I would also like to draw attention to Sam Wood's lively and inventive direction.

You got him! My favorite role of his was the Tiger tank commander in Kelly's Heroes.

Oh that face--. . . .that fabulous face?:

There are lots of ways directors reference other movies in thier films. The usual reason is homage, sometimes ridicule, and of course, the references can play a role in developing character and plot. A lot of times they mimic a famous scene from another movie. A lot of times I can see it coming. I always cringe, at least inwardly when I see this happen. Rarely, a director references his own material. An example of this can be found in Ready to Wear, where Robert Altman has Sally Kellerman echo herself in M*A*S*H. It was done half-heartedly and clumsily, and was the most disappointing moment in an otherwise enjoyable film. I don't know if she went along with it willingly, but to my mind, it certainly did her a disservice. Some movies are almost entirely referential. Mel Brooks is the master in this area, building almost his entire career taking off on genres, and even directors (one--no, come to think of it--two). This is not necessarily bad. In fact, his best work is referential. The most common references are objects, in the background, usually posters on a wall, which identify a movie. Sometimes it is playing on a TV, again either in the background, or prominent in the scene. French New Wave Directors were prone to this, among other things, announcing to the world their enamoredness with American film. They seem to have begun the modern not-quite-so-ubiquitous practice of referencing we see today. There are earlier instances, or at least one, I know of. A Yasujiro Ozu film, titled Dragnet Girl (1933) has posters for two films in it: The Champ, and a French poster for All Quiet on the Western Front. It has a third poster, likely of a Hollywood movie, that starts "Million Dollar. . . .," but I can't figure out the entire title. But I don't think this instance can be cited as the originator of the trend.

Is it safe to say that?

Sorry, Miles, it's not mine to confirm.

And you're the real thing! You got him right!