Showing posts with label classic Hollywood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label classic Hollywood. Show all posts

Some Musings and DVD Reviews

I have been sick pretty much the bulk of the past week.  Sinus infections truly suck. Thanks to being slightly better off moneywise, I went and blew in some money on a couple of one-season television DVD series.  Against my better judgment, I bought the 1960s turkey It's About Time.  One could review the show in two words besides "it stinks."  Those words are these:  Sherwood Schwartz.  That is really all one needs to know.  Like his semi-hit and cult favorite Gilligan's Island, the show had a catchy theme song, appealed to children, a Robinson Crusoe plot (and in this series combined with Twilight Zone-type time travel), some truly talented character actors (Imogene Coca, Joe E. Ross, Frank Aletter, Jack Mullaney, and Mike Mazurki), and a plethora of rotten scripts.  Unlike Gilligan's Island, it lasted just one season thanks to audience indifference and critical rotten eggs hurled at it.



I mean it.  I liked the show when it first aired, when I was in the sixth grade in 1966, but, looking at it fifty years later, it is just awful. The only thing the show had going for it was the theme music.  As an aside, Sherwood Schwartz, the show's creator, wrote the theme just as he did for Gilligan's Island and The Brady Bunch.   In my view, he should have stuck with music.  He would have made far less money, but he wouldn't be remembered today as being the Sultan of the Vast Wasteland.

I will try to get through the show, but it is going to be hell to do it.



On a better note, the other television DVD I got was 1957's Decoy, which was a syndicated series set and filmed in New York City.  Unique for its time, it focused on women in law enforcement, with Beverly Garland playing the protagonist.  Her character was the first television female character to be the main character of a series.  It is a really good show, with stories, like Dragnet, based on real cases.  It has almost a documentary feel to it.  Since it was filmed in New York, one gets a good look at how the city appeared in the late 1950s.  There is also a booklet with the DVD explaining the history of the series and how that series helped pave the way for women in law enforcement in that city.  It was dedicated to the women who worked for NYPD.

I also picked up a DVD collection of seven Jean Harlow films, which I won't review here today because I don't feel like it.  However, instead of buying a DVD of David Stenn's 2007 documentary, Girl 27, I downloaded the film to my Kindle Fire because the DVD is out of print and damned expensive to get used (about 70 bucks from Amazon.com sellers).  David Stenn is a writer whose work I am familiar.  He wrote two biographies (edited by Jacqueline Onassis when she was an editor at Doubleday before she died in 1994):  one of Clara Bow and one of Jean Harlow.  I have both of these books, which were praised by critics and considered definitive works.  Stenn always does his homework when he writes books.  When he was researching the Harlow book (called Bombshell), he came across the rape scandal at MGM where a young dancer named Patricia Douglas was raped by an MGM salesman when she left a drunken party as part of a convention that was held by the studio in 1937 to celebrate its record sales.  She tried to get legal help and was stopped every single step of the way.  MGM owned not just a studio and its stars, it owned every single apparatus in Hollywood and L.A. County including the district attorney's office and the police department.  If people think women in Hollywood have it bad now, and they do, it was much, much, much worse years ago.  The casting couch reigned supreme, with the likes of Darryl F. Zanuck being the very worst of these louses who promised starlets they could be famous if they gave him what he wanted during his lunch breaks.  Douglas was raped by a salesman out of Illinois, I think it was, after he dragged her from the party into a parked car and beat her up on top of raping her.  She was only twenty years old at the time (she died in 2003), but she was very, very sheltered when it came to men.  The rape destroyed her life and her relationships with others, including straining her relationships with her mother and her daughter.  Stenn befriended her, wrote an article about her, and a few years following her death at 86, released Girl 27.  




I always prided myself a bit for knowing quite a bit about classic Hollywood, but I had never heard of this case at all.  That is how successful MGM was in obliterating it from the public conscious.  No studio would get away with this now, but it was a different era.

I think the fact there is all this emphasis now on sexual harassment in Hollywood and other areas of public life that the movie has been reexamined and more people have bought used copies, thus inflating the price on the second-hand market.  I always prefer the DVD version, but I have to take what I can get.

Some have criticized Stenn inserting himself through the film, but in a way it was like a true-life mystery story, with him being the "investigator" trying to track down the seemingly elusive Douglas.  He found her in a small apartment in Las Vegas, where she had lived for many years.  Still sharp mentally, she recounted the horrors of the evening, the futility of trying to get justice, and the tragedy of her life.  At first she resented the intrusion, but she grew to like and trust Stenn enough to open up about the rape, which she called "the attack."

Good movie, well worth seeing.

And that is all I am going to say about anything today.  I am trying to get my strength back up for work tomorrow.


Despicable To Shit All Over Dead Public Figures

With all due respect, this author is completely full of shit. How "courageous" to come up with the story now that Judy Lewis, Clark Gable, and Loretta Young are dead. I am astounded people believe anything about dead public figures not realizing that nobody can sue on their behalf. These so-called family members are trying to make a buck off of something where the principals are not around to defend themselves. Disgusting.

EVERYBODY knew Gable and Young had an affair during the making of 1935's Call of the Wild, which I have written about on this blog. It is truly despicable that a son and daughter-in-law, or I should say it is almost all the daughter-in-law rather than the son, would come up with this bullshit decades after Gable is dead and can't defend himself and after Young and Lewis are dead also. Young should have disinherited both of them.

Most likely Young, a devout Catholic, felt shame over what she did, and she was known to pursue married men like Gable and Spencer Tracy. That of course isn't judging her, but it is a leap in logic to say Young was ever raped by Gable or anybody else. She was pretty damned independent, and I never could see any man trying to dictate her life other than on her terms.

The daughter-in-law is like B.D. Hyman and a few other showbiz relatives who seek to capitalize on their dead relatives and never mind truth. The current popular subject is Cosby and rape, and what better way to keep your name in the headlines and make up a story that your mother-in-law also was raped and by the "King of Hollywood," no less.

Some commenters pointed out numerous errors in the story, and the author and Young's daughter-in-law sheepishly acknowledged them and made the corrections. However, if as an author you are that careless with relatively minor details, what makes anybody think you aren't equally reckless with the big ones?

Call me skeptical.



I Don't Know Why "Serious" Biographers Peddle Urban Legends

One of the five books--real books, not downloads on Kindle, since I love to skip around on non-fiction titles and read out of sequence--I am reading is a biography I got the other day about the Hollywood star and dancer Vera-Ellen (1921-1981). The title of the book is called Vera Ellen: The Magic and the Mystery. Since I started the book near the end which talked about her tragic final years of losing her baby to SIDS and living a life of seclusion as a result, I am not sure where the mystery about her is. Everybody who knew her never had a bad word to say about her and remembered her as a very kind, thoughtful person. Onscreen she always had a impish quality about her and was cute as a button. Of course she was an extremely talented, extremely dedicated dancer almost and perhaps to the point of being downright anal about it. She pushed herself so hard she likely ruined her health because of the weird eating habits she supposedly had (and to this day are still common among dancers) to keep her weight low and most likely suffered from anorexia in the years before it was commonly known to the public. She died of cancer in 1981, aged only 60.

Vera-Ellen made very few films in her career, a total of 14 in all. Her best known films remain 1949's On the Town and 1954's White Christmas. Unfortunately for her, the Hollywood musical declined by the end of the fifties, and here she was still in her thirties and could still dance up a mean streak. There just wasn't enough for her to do, so she married a second time to a Rothschild (who wasn't all that rich) and had a baby daughter when she was 42 (old back then) who unfortunately died at three months of age.

She was as talented a dancer as anybody who ever appeared in films. There is no question of it. She could dance any type of dance and could easily keep up with the likes of Gene Kelly or Fred Astaire. The sad thing is she is little remembered today, but she should be.

Anyway, getting to the urban legend. This biographer, David Soren, still peddles the easily debunked story of Vera-Ellen's neck. The legend goes that Vera-Ellen always kept her neck covered once she started displaying signs of anorexia because she had basically what is known as a turkey neck. The neck covering was most noticeable in White Christmas where it was obvious she was extremely thin and frail. The story goes that if a woman suffers from the effects of anorexia, it prematurely ages the body, especially the neck. Vera-Ellen was so self-conscious about it, the story goes, she had all of her costumes and clothes designed to hide this hideous deformity or always wore chokers or necklaces to somehow deflect attention away from it. Of course one of the reasons women wear chokers or necklaces is to ATTRACT attention to the neck, but why get in the way of a good story?

Unfortunately for the urban legend, there are pictures and film footage of her taken around the time of White Christmas that plainly show her neck was normal. Now she might have had a tiny scar on her neck she wanted to hide, or she thought her neck was too skinny, or perhaps she liked high collars, but whatever the reason, the turkey neck explanation ain't it.

I still think the book is okay, but if you are going to be a serious biographer, you can't be peddling urban legends. He probably shouldn't try to psychoanalyze her, either.

In case there are readers who don't know who I am talking about, here's Vera-Ellen in one of her most famous numbers, "Naughty But Nice" from the 1952 film The Belle of New York:




Miscellaneous Commentary

The WSWS has quite a nice retrospective of Jennifer Jones' film career:

As talented and honest a performer as Jones was, one often feels there was something incomplete about her. As good as she may have been, she was probably never a truly great actress, but then her career took shape under less than favorable circumstances. The Hollywood she began working in was passing through the anticommunist witch hunts of HUAC and Joseph McCarthy. A broad effort was under way, with the direct consent and cooperation of many studio bosses and moguls, to implement the blacklist and to purge Hollywood of left-wing elements. What one could say, openly, after the witch hunts became limited.

The postwar period saw an economic boom and the US emerged as a superpower. New social moods were prevailing. An artist like Jones did not develop in a culture enriched by socialist or even a great deal of critical thought. And while she made a number of interesting films in the 1940s, Selznick kept a tight reign on Jones’s career. She worked with talented and important filmmakers like Lubitsch and Minnelli, but was never really afforded the opportunity to work in many films that challenged or explored the nature of the new postwar order with the depth that artists like Orson Welles or Fritz Lang were able to achieve. And by the late 1950s and the 1960s, it was certainly the case that talented performers would only find less and less meaningful works in which to practice their art. Jennifer Jones may never have developed as complete an artistic personality as she might have, but there were fewer opportunities open to her to do so than in a previous period.

Even as one considers the personal limitations of Jones and the limitations she had thrust on her by the conditions under which she worked, she nevertheless stands out as a talented and sincere performer. Her best work deserves to be remembered and revisited.

_____

My Baby Just Cares for Me

With all of the crap going on in my life right now, it is so great to listen and watch a truly great entertainer of the past do his thing, and yep, in that politically incorrect blackface:



From Whoopee (1930) in early color.

Cantor's performances here and elsewhere really brighten the mood. I wish there were entertainers of this caliber now.

My Honey Said Yes, Yes!

I found this great video clip of the great Eddie Cantor and featuring a dance sequence from the equally great Busby Berkeley from the film Palmy Days:



link

This was from 1931, which was pre-Hays Code Hollywood. The sound quality is great for the time.


They really don't make 'em like this anymore. Cantor is largely forgotten by modern audiences, which is truly sad. He was one of the greats, absolutely adorable, with tons of talent and charisma.

He mentions actress Clara Bow in this song, which is likely an in-joke of sorts. Cantor, who was married for years and years, reportedly had an affair with her.

Cantor retired in the 1950s from show business and died in 1964. He died at about the same time as show business greats Gracie Allen and Harpo Marx passed away.

I Was Sitting Here

watching my iPod download of the 1947 film, Dark Passage, starring Bogie and Bacall, and it was sure great. I am going to get the boxed DVD set of it and other classics starring the two.

If readers haven't seen the film, I am not going to spoil it except to say Bogie's character sure had the Midas touch in reverse.

Here is the first part, and the other parts can be found on the sidebar here:


Carole Lombard [Updated]

Ft. Wayne, Indiana, has been marking the birthday of one of its most famous natives, actress Carole Lombard, who was born on this date exactly 100 years ago.

Her birthplace has been converted into a bed & breakfast.

The Washington Times has a nice piece about her life and career.

My guess as to where her career would have gone had she lived is she would have no doubt continued to star in screwball comedies, expanded her range in other types of films, and would have made the transition to television, provided Clark Gable would have let her (he rejected television appearances as he was of the old school about movie stars making appearances on the small screen). Think Lucille Ball, and you would have had Carole Lombard in a similar series.

This clip is rather poignant, for this newsreel has footage of Lombard's last appearance in Indianapolis before her fatal flight:



I don't know how people get away with posting entire films on YouTube and other file sharing sites, but somehow they do. This is the first part of one of Lombard's most famous films, My Man Godfrey, which she co-starred with ex-husband William Powell (link):



Update: UK's The Guardian has a look at her, but I don't feel Lombard has been neglected at all. She was at least the equal to the actresses mentioned in the article and probably better. Her acting style was extremely modern.

Angelina Jolie comparable to Lombard? Oh, please. Not even close.

Miscellaneous

Next week, on October 6, will be the 100th anniversary of the birth of screen great Carole Lombard, one of my all-time favorite performers. Her hometown paper, the Ft. Wayne News-Sentinel, makes mention of the upcoming anniversary.

As everybody knows, on January 16, 1942, Lombard was killed, along with her mother and 20 other people, in a plane crash at Mt. Potosi just outside Las Vegas. I found this interesting little report about Goodsprings, Nevada, and the Lombard accident.

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Crater Lake National Park Photos 1

 Here are a few pictures I took at Crater Lake National Park in southern Oregon today, including a couple of them from the historic lodge: