Dothery

This is an different sort of Fourth for me. No fireworks to watch in this part of the island, so a friend is picking me up to take me to her house for a movie with her and her mother. I don't drive at night any more; I can, but I hate the headlights, so I just don't. At 85 you can get away with making a lot of new rules for yourself. We're watching my copy of "Man of the Century," which is one of my favorite odd pictures. They've never seen it, and I haven't watched it for a while, so it should be fun. It's about Johnny Twennies, who lives 1920's style, but in the present day. I love it. They have four dogs, or is it five? who raise hell whenever I come in, but once they're finished greeting me with the howls of demented Tasmanian Devils, we settle in to watch the movie on their great big TV screen, once my friend has figured out the Closed Caption thing, which takes a while. Her mom needs those. I like them too. Sometimes my tinnitus gets in the way of my enjoyment of the picture. Altogether a fun evening coming up.

I would have won your contest. As soon as I read what the question was, I thought, it's not the Preamble, it's the Declaration, and I thought "When in the course of human events ..." I got stuck there, however. I know the concept but not the exact words. Anyway, as an aside, I wouldn't have wanted the upgrade. I have flown both, and I don't enjoy First Class on a long flight. The people lock themselves into their headsets and don't speak to each other. That bothers me, since half the fun of a trip for me is to talk to people who feel like talking. I've made some lifelong friends that way and shortened the trip for myself, as they've been kind enough to say has been the case for them. The food is good and the service is excellent, but I'd rather chat the flight away with a congenial companion than stare out at the clouds. Now, if the person next to me wants to do a crossword or get absorbed in the movie, that's fine with me. I won't press the point. It just seems to me that First Class isn't conducive to enjoyable conversation. Once my late husband and I were upgraded, and I loved it for him. He'd never flown First Class before and he was thrilled when they called us up to the console and switched our boarding passes (they needed our seats to accommodate a family of four in the tourist cabin). He was at the beginning of his long ordeal with Alzheimer's, and small things gave him great pleasure. He told the story over and over when we got home.

I have loved Eric Sevareid since the day he was waylaid in the studio lobby by Gwen Cafritz, the D.C. society hostess of the day, and taken to task for something he'd said or done. He called her a stupid woman, which was putting it gently. She had tons of money but not a single brain, and was embarrassingly dense and completely unaware of it. I saw her on Ed Murrow's "Person to Person" once, and was left with my mouth hanging open. I shock easily when it comes to Washington hostesses. But Eric took her down without a qualm and it was all over town that evening. As to George, I have loved him always, and will forever. I was puzzled at his marrying a second Gabor, once he knew the family, but I think he was just trying to make Zsa Zsa jealous. Anyway he's gone and I pray for his soul daily.

Here's one: "Yes, I am very beautiful, but morally, I stink."

I can never see the lovely Miss L. without remembering Jimmy Durante's pronunciation of her name. He said, "And now, the gorgeous Gina Lollo-briggadigga!"

It's got to be George M. Cohan. He used the premise so much it can't be anybody else ... He was an amazing man. My mother's boss the congressman, when he was acting and of course before he went into politics, was in one of George M's traveling companies. He had a few, I guess. He had his finger in a lot of pies. Show business was his home. I remember a story about George M. in his early traveling days, before he was very well known. He had booked a reservation in a hotel which was "restricted," unbeknownst to him. They thought because his name was Cohan that he was Jewish, and he found a telegram waiting for him which said that obviously there had been a mistake, and they could not accommodate him. He answered with another telegram, which said, "Gentlemen: There, now, we've both made a mistake. You thought I was Jewish, and I thought you were gentlemen."

That's the one! Gordon MacRae and Kathryn Grayson; Raymond Massey as the sheik, with his fancy robes; at the end of the movie someone says, after the hero has given up his role as El Kobar, the Riffs chieftain, "El Kobar is dead." She thinks it's true and grieves for him, but then he comes sneaking around a hedge and starts singing at her, and she knows only the phantom El Kobar is dead, and not his alter ego. I love that movie. I have it on tape and every so often I have to run it and see those beautiful people and those beautiful dresses and listen to those beautiful voices. Your go! Amaze us! Puzzle us, put us in a quandary!

Ya see, by MY calculations, Milburn (btw, never a great first name for a "leading man", ya know) stood all of 5'8" ... Yes, he did; I just checked a picture I have of him with me at a party, and I was about 5" 4" at the time. He looks to be about four inches taller than I. But I trust his judgment; if he figured 6' 2" was leading-man height, I guess it probably was. "Milburn" was not a good leading-man name, but he defended it like a hero when John Ford called him "Mildred" one time too many. He said Ford was a mean man, and would rag you unmercifully if he could, but he stood up to him on that one point, and spelled his name out to him and insisted that he call him "Milburn." Ford caved and didn't give him any more trouble. You could push Doc just so far. He also said he called Ford "Mr. Ford," unlike some of the others who called him "Pappy." Doc believed in respecting people. You? The class clown? Naaah. Really?

Yes, that's the clue ... like you, I picked up the movie well into it, and there was Cyd Charisse, in the most gorgeous white dress, dancing around an Arabian Nights set with a handsome guy. I met Helen Rose once and bought her book. She said of all the women she dressed in her years at MGM, Cyd was the one with the perfect body. Nothing had to be fixed or adjusted for her. It was all her and it was all beautiful. Anyway, that was the clue. It was one of Sigmund Romberg's shows before it was a movie. I'm sure it's obvious now ...

I loved the ending of Night in Paradise, with all those kids. Six, I believe. And she looked as young as ever in spite of all that parenthood. He was pretty gorgeous as the young Aesop in that picture. I loved her line when he showed up in disguise as the Old Aesop ... "Why didn't you send the pretty one?"

Jeffrey Lynn! Played the good guy in all the Lane Sisters movies. I thought he was the handsomest thing that ever walked.

I loved Guy Mitchell's songs; they were always so cheerful and upbeat. He had a nice voice and an even nicer manner. "Poor little robin, walkin' walkin' walkin' to Missouri ..."

Hint #7: Well, by George. Here I was thinking nobody is ever going to see a reference to this movie, and last night there was Cyd Charisse dancing the scenes in a show within a movie. Got it yet? Jose Ferrer was there, too ...

That's Helen O'Connell, a big band singer, originally with Jimmy Dorsey's orchestra. "Green Eyes" was her huge hit. "Tangerine" was another, and "Amapola." She eventally wound up singing with 4 Girls 4, the Rosemary Clooney/Margaret Whiting group, but didn't fit in, according to Rosie's autobiography, "Girl Singer." Too much the big star. http://www.rosemaryclooney.com/4girls4/page1.htm

C. B. DeMille cast him as Christ in "King of Kings," and made a big publicity thing about keeping him away from any bad influences while they made the movie. I have no idea what he might have been getting up to if they hadn't kept him under lock and key, but you'd have thought he was going to run rampant if DeMille didn't keep an eye on him. Poor guy probably never did anything more wild than go out for a newspaper.

Haven't got a clue, Sepiatone ... we always used to call it "Madame Buttermilk." Who was it?

Hint #6: The hero and heroine are both singers.

Carole Lombard parodies Greta Garbo (superbly I might add) in 1937's THE PRINCESS COMES ACROSS. Seems to me that in the early scenes of that picture, if you look carefully you can see Milburn Stone as one of the reporters meeting the ship. I teased him about it the last time I saw him, saying he had only one line in that picture. He said it was six months later before he got another part with TWO lines. He was quite a good-looking young guy then. He said (one of his standard lines) that if he'd been six inches taller he could have been a leading man ...

No, TCM ran Night in Paradise recently and it had Turhan Bey and Merle Oberon starring.

That's Jean Hersholt, of the JH Humanitarian Award. The first time I saw him I didn't know I was looking for a man. I was about six years old and when I saw "Jean" in the cast I thought it had to be a woman. It was in "Heidi." He played Shirley Temple's grandfather. At least it LOOKS like Jean Hersholt. The first picture does, anyway. The other two look rather weird for him. If it's somebody else, then I've wasted all this talk.

Okay. This is a movie site, right? And this is a movie. And WHAT a movie. About ten years ago I got my Netflix account, after my husband died. It was winter in Maine, the B&B was closed, and I was just killing time until spring came and the tourist season began. I hadn't seen a lot of foreign films, and wanted to catch up with them. I'd lived in England and Japan for a while so those were pretty much under control. I went through the Italians, and then I came to the French. I thought as long as I was catching up on things I might as well look into whatever there was in opera. I wasn't that big a fan, but like everybody I liked the Toreador song from Carmen and the other familiar bits of the old warhorse operas. Then I came across Madame Butterfly, and realized I'd never seen the whole thing; didn't even know the story. I ordered it, and my whole life changed. I mean it. It really did. This was a sensational picture. It was directed by Frederic Mitterand, and starred real opera singers, but he didn't stage it as an opera. It was just a beautiful story, gorgeously presented. When it came out, Siskel and Ebert gave it two thumbs up as a movie, not as an opera movie. They both loved it. The cast was perfect, the settings were lovely, and everything in it was done to perfection. I wrote to the cast; Richard Troxell answered through his publicity assistant, and over time we became good friends. I saw him perform live many times in various places, the last time in Honolulu, last fall. My family loves him as well, and we traveled to see him whenever we could. Do yourself a favor. Get hold of the movie. It's the first one you'll come to when you do a search at Amazon or Netflix itself. I can't make you get it, but if you don't you're missing a wonderful experience. You'll know what's happening. It's got nice subtitles. Here's a little of it to give you an idea. This is the love duet, which is the sexiest music in opera. If you can't stand opera, fine. But if you don't KNOW if you can stand it, give it a chance.

Hint #5: The Other Man in her life has played Lincoln. There! Giveaway.

Yes! Basil was the predator, Nigel was the husband. It was the first time they played together without being Holmes and Watson. Joan Fontaine was the lady involved. Arturo de Cordova played the Frenchman (with the Spanish accent) and drew the pictures of the birds. Your turn ...

Hint #5: The predatory friend sneers like nobody else in films. He's really GOOD at sneering. He even sneers at HER sometimes. Ths husband sort of huffs and puffs a lot. The lover just smiles and draws things.

Hint #4: First she thinks he's a wimp, then she thinks he's a hero.