leah@carygrantwonteatyou.com | Cary Grant Won't Eat You

Like The More the Merrier? (1943) Watch Singles (1992)

10/04/2015 by leah@carygrantwonteatyou.com 2 Comments

It’s curious what will relegate a film to “dated” status. Of the last 30 years of rom-coms, Singles (1992) would make my top five. Yet due to its grunge soundtrack and location in then-trendy Seattle, Cameron Crowe’s paean to dating has been forgotten. I wonder why The More the Merrier (1943), with a whole premise based on the WWII housing shortage in D.C., hasn’t suffered a similar fate. The two movies resemble one another in many unexpected ways, and deserve credit for being what films in their genre–despite its name–so rarely are: funny and romantic.

Both films are notable for their winning leading ladies. That trembling voice of Jean Arthur’s; equally able to capture passion, sense, and vulnerability; her perfectly timed delivery; and her gentle expressions all have so completely overcome audiences by the start of The More the Merrier that she remains the center of our attention despite considerable competition from her roommates: sexy Joel McCrea as Joe and adorable Charles Coburn as matchmaker Benjamin Dingle.

Kyra Sedgwick, the heroine of Singles, was one of those charismatic, promising starlets who gave up her career for her family (husband Kevin Bacon & kids), only to claim it back years later with The Closer. In Singles, you can see what might have been had she stuck around instead of leaving us with one-note Jennifer Aniston.

As Linda, she woos you in the first few minutes with her dismay over her broken car, reluctant acceptance of masculine help, and joy when the knight proves to not be a player. Her mobile face catches every emotion–reluctant trust, passion, joy, and ultimately, of course, despair, as she’s, of course, wrong about him, and her resolve not to let her heart be broken again sets the stage for her resistance to the film’s hero, Steve (Campbell Scott).

Since Singles is an ensemble film, we’re also treated to heroine Janet (Bridget Fonda), who is passionate about her hilariously untalented rocker boyfriend, Cliff (Matt Dillon). I’m not sure why Bridget Fonda never took off. She’s so endearing in this role, apparently a part written just for her. She’s funny and vulnerable and cute and tough all at once.

Her lovable fragility reminds me of Jean Arthur’s as Connie. And like Connie, Janet recognizes more about her boyfriend’s lack of commitment to her than she’s willing to admit. While he prioritizes his band over her, again and again, we watch Janet registering it, even as she supports him.

When the inevitable breakup comes, we’re not surprised; Janet is not as clueless as she chooses to appear at the start of the film, when she expresses faith in Cliff’s fidelity despite evidence she shouldn’t:

“Look, Janet, you know I see other people still, right? You do know that, don’t you?” says Cliff.

“You don’t fool me,” Janet answers.

“Janet, I could not be fooling you less.”

Likewise, Connie knows her fiancé’s career trumps their relationship–and her needs. She’s just so busy selling his good salary and reliability that she’s unaware just how hollow she sounds as she’s bragging. Her dismay at Dingle and Joe meeting him says it all.

Luckily, Connie has matchmaker Benjamin Dingle (Charles Coburn) forcing her to confront her future husband’s selfishness. Dingle knows a deal helping her fiance’s career will make him dump Connie for the night, leaving the path open for the far hotter and sweeter Joe (Joel McCrea). The sign for Connie that Joe’s worth her time? He could have read her diary, and didn’t. He bought her a wedding gift–no strings attached–that displays his understanding of her: a travel bag with neat compartments, for a girl so organized she’s planned out every minute of her morning.

Singles is all about paying attention to such signs: What should make you keep committing? What should make you give up? As writer/director Cameron Crowe obviously realized, it’s important to pay attention when single, or you’ll get your heart caught by someone who’s not worth it, making you less receptive to the lover actually worth your time.

For Steve (Campbell Scott), the sign is simple: a flick of the finger: Linda (Sedgwick) opens the car door lock for him, surely a sign that she likes him in spite of their prickly date.

Janet (Fonda) has been so beaten down by bad dates that such little gestures are all she’s now expecting of a guy, as captured in one of the film’s best scenes. She’s in the waiting room to get her breasts enlarged (her shortcut to Cliff’s loyalty).

“Tell me, from a girl’s point of view, what do you really want from a guy?” asks Steve, who has accompanied her for moral support.

“Well, when I first moved out here from Tucson,” Janet begins, warming to the theme, “I wanted a guy with looks, security, caring, someone with their own place, someone who said bless you or Gesundheit when I sneezed, you know? And umm, someone who liked the same things as me, but not exactly, and someone who loves me.”

“Tall order,” he answers.

“Yeah, I scaled it down a little,” she admits, her disappointment deflating both expression and voice.

“Well, what is it now?”

“Someone who says Gesundheit when I sneeze, although I prefer bless you, it’s nicer.”

As it turns out, the surgery doesn’t happen: Janet’s nerdy plastic surgeon (Bill Pullman) advises against it, suggesting she looks great now. Although no romance develops between them, his kind words make her realize how much she’s compromised for Cliff, just as in The More the Merrier, Dingle makes Connie recognize how little her fiancé values her. While Connie’s realization leads to endless tears, Janet is relieved. She gives Cliff one last chance, sneezing as he’s ranting about a poor review of his band.

“Hey babe?” he answers, handing her a tissue. “Don’t get me sick. I’m playing this weekend.”

Janet glances at the tissue box and then over at her boyfriend.

Wait a minute, she reflects in a voiceover. What am I doing? I don’t have to be here. I could just break up with him.

After dumping him, she dances alone, almost as beautifully as Connie does early in The More the Merrier. I won’t spoil where the story goes from there–for Janet, Linda, or the other quirky characters of Singles. Watch the film. Even if the love stories don’t get you, the funny sight of Pearl Jam members playing backup for Cliff will–one of many, many reasons even “chick flick” accusers can warm to this hilarious, charming rom-com.

Falling for Charles Coburn, Matchmaker Extraordinaire

09/27/2015 by leah@carygrantwonteatyou.com 6 Comments

Has there ever been a Cupid more charming than Charles Coburn?

He smartens up the debonair Henry Van Cleve (Don Ameche), ensuring he doesn’t lose his lovely wife, Martha (Gene Tierney) in Heaven Can Wait (1943).

He pushes his widowed daughter-in-law (Irene Dunne) into frivolity and a new chance at love with sculptor George Corday (Charles Boyer) in Together Again (1944).

And in The More the Merrier (1943) he unites conservative Connie (Jean Arthur) and Joe (Joel McCrea), with machinations so wonderful and so amusing that they almost distract from his costars’ considerable chemistry.

There was a moment when I was watching him bustle around, trying to follow Connie’s morning schedule, that I realized I truly loved this man, was terribly envious of everyone encountering him. Connie may ultimately fall for Joe, but I think we all can see that those arrows have hit more than one target.

I defy anyone to spend time with someone this wise, this funny, this blunt–every time, in every film–and be able to resist him. No wonder he matches up so many couples, so many times. They fall for him first, and then even those most resistant to love begin to listen….

The Sexy Men of the Highlands: The Three Stooges?

09/20/2015 by leah@carygrantwonteatyou.com 2 Comments

Having spent Saturday at the New Hampshire Highland Games & Festival, I’ve got bagpipe music still ringing in my ears, and tartan on the brain. I witnessed feats of strength that included FLIPPING an 130-pound log. Some star from Game of Thrones (aka the Mountain) even set a world record throwing a weight over a high bar, apparently a repeat performance. It looked about as effortless as the rest of us tossing a ping pong ball.

Naturally, I’ve been scanning for Scottish movies in hopes of extending my memories of men in kilts, especially since I don’t have time just now to be swept into Volume 2 of Outlander (whose Jamie, naturally, had a cardboard statue at the Fraser clan tent). Encountering an entry called “Hot Scots” on Wikipedia, I assumed some early Chippendalish, Magic Mike embarrassment was to be found, only to discover that the entry was referencing an episode of The Three Stooges.

Now I don’t think “hot” when I hear the names Moe, Larry, and Shemp. I don’t think I’m alone in that. But, like Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers after them, the three sure did excel at making fun of themselves, and that made the episode worth a look.

The plot of the episode is about as flimsy as you’d guess: the stooges decide they want a job at Scotland Yard, and have mistaken a garden cleanup employment ad for an investigative one. After fouling up that simple task, they discover a posting calling for detectives in Scotland, and equip themselves with kilts and Mcs in front of their names for the job. After hearing their accents, their new client inquires what part of Scotland Shemp is from. Moe explains that Shemp is from the south, “below the McMason-McDixon line.”

Their client wants his possessions protected as he’s off at a clan meeting, and of course, the stooges utterly fail to notice his entire staff taking everything he owns. There’s even a Scooby Doo moment when Shemp fails to notice a masked robber isn’t Larry.

And another when Moe thinks he’s still dancing with the client’s comely assistant, and is actually doing a reel with her scary accomplice.

The episode, of course, is saturated with silly sound effects and the stooges whacking each other with sticks and clubs. I’m not a huge stooges fan–their humor is a little too exclusively physical for me–but somehow, the style is so suitable for the weird way we celebrate the Scottish, and the many spills reminded me of my favorite scene from Mike Myers’ comedies: The infamous “We have a piper down!” wedding clip from So I Married an Axe Murder.

Give “Hot Scots” a try if you want a break from work or the news this week. You can find it on Amazon Instant, The Three Stooges Collection, 1946-48, Episode 15, and of course, YouTube. I think we can all use some silliness about now…

The Moment I Fell for Claudette Colbert

09/13/2015 by leah@carygrantwonteatyou.com 12 Comments

Today I’m reflecting on that tiny woman with the deep, sexy voice who managed to develop fully realized characters even in the smallest of roles. And in her greatest ones, set the bar so high for future comediennes that few have managed to approach, much less equal, her performances since.

Like many of us out there, I knew Claudette Colbert’s legs first, as she starred in one of the most iconic scenes in American film, proving “once and for all” that when it comes to hitchhiking, “the limb is mightier than the thumb.”

It took several years after seeing the image of her legs that I actually got around to It Happened One Night, which I’ve watched at least 30 times since. In her Academy-winning role as Ellen Andrews, she first perfects a chilly posture and refined voice as the stuck-up heiress. But slowly, Colbert reveals Ellen’s vulnerabilities and inexperience through expressions, gestures, stance, and tone. When Ellen and soon-to-be love interest Peter Warne (Clark Gable) stop at a motel en route to New York, she is ill at ease with the arrangement he makes to keep the room platonic–strapping a blanket between their beds. While she’s technically married, she has never been with a man. When she oversleeps the next morning, Peter threatens to come get her, and her clumsy, embarrassed fumbling to ensure he doesn’t makes me laugh every time I see it.

That winning performance made me a fan. Without it, I never would have sought out The Palm Beach Story, Midnight, and so many other wonderful movies since. Although I appreciate Colbert’s dramatic abilities, her skill with romantic comedy is what wows me. Here are just a few of the megastars she managed to upstage, in spite of the camera’s deep love for them (and theirs for it): Miriam Hopkins in The Smiling Lieutenant (1931), Clark Gable in It Happened One Night (1934), John Barrymore in Midnight (1939) and John Wayne in Without Reservations (1946).

So on her birthday, I’d like to say thank you to the actress who has lightened my mood again, and again and again: the mesmerizing Claudette Colbert.

Mae West Schools the Teacher

09/06/2015 by leah@carygrantwonteatyou.com 4 Comments

A prim school teacher & Mae West. Almost a century later, this coupling seems inspired. But in 1932, nobody knew that. West was a vaudevillian, not a movie star. Her role as Maudie, an ex of the lead, Joe Anton (George Raft), was a minor part in her first film, Night after Night. She didn’t even enter the picture until a half hour in.

The script of the movie is bland, the story plodding. Joe, the owner of a mansion-turned-speakeasy, is fascinated by Jerry Healy (Constance Cummings), the mysterious beauty who shows up at his place every night unattended. He discovers that her family owned his mansion before the market crash.

Joe has been dissatisfied lately, aspiring to a classier existence. He’s even hired a tutor, Miss Mabel Jellyman (Alison Skipworth), to improve his elocution, grammar and knowledge of current events–the type of lady who gets prissy when he uses words such as “got.”

He thinks Jerry will lead him to a better life, but he needs the tutor’s help to win her. He invites Jerry for dinner at the speakeasy, and begs Jellyman to come along. The tutor is thrilled at the chance to hang out in a speakeasy and have some fun, but what a drag to be on such a date! Joe’s attempts at sophistication are painful, the conversation stilted. Everyone at the table is bored and uncomfortable.

Then Maudie (West) enters the room.

Within five minutes, she has decimated Joe’s fragile rep, having laughed about his love for the ladies, drunkenness, and a jail visit in quick succession.

“Oh Joe,” she concludes, “it’s just life to see you,” echoing our impressions of her arrival. She has completely redeemed his date (and the existence of the film). Finally, Jerry is enjoying herself.

But clueless Joe urges Jerry to leave with him to tour the house. Jellyman, soon drunk thanks to Maudie’s generosity with the bottle, protests when Joe offers a cab before leaving them. “I don’t want to go home,” she complains. She turns to Maudie, “He said I didn’t have to.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna make a night of it,” Maudie agrees. “You go ahead,” she tells Joe, “we gotta talk it over.”

“Maudie and I have a great deal in common,” Jellyman explains to Joe.

“You said it, baby,” agrees the partying blonde, without a trace of irony.

Once they’re alone, Jellyman asks anxiously, “Maudie, do you believe in love at first sight?”

“I don’t know, but it saves an awful lot of time,” she quips.

Jellyman protests when Maudie refills her class, to which our heroine responds, “Now listen, Mabel, if you’re gonna be Broadway, you gotta learn to take it, and you may as well break in the act right now.”

“I say, this night will read great in your diary,” she adds.

“You said it, baby,” Jellyman agrees, her education from Maudie having advanced dramatically in minutes.

“Maudie, do you really think I could get rid of my inhibitions?” Jellyman asks.

“Why sure,” Maudie tells her, “I’ve got an old trunk you can put them in.”

The next time we see the two of them, they’re in bed together at Joe’s after a bender. It does the heart good to witness them:

West only agreed to play the part of Maudie if she could write her own scenes. Thank goodness she did. Supposedly, Raft later claimed West “stole everything but the cameras.” What he didn’t say is that none of us would have wanted to see the film at all, had she not.

For more of my monthly West posts, click here.

Female’s Heroine: 1933’s Amy (of Trainwreck), Samantha Jones, or Don Draper?

08/27/2015 by leah@carygrantwonteatyou.com 4 Comments

Given its plot synopsis, I expected Female to be shocking: a promiscuous executive casually sleeps with men until she finds the right guy. But I didn’t expect to gasp at its daring. A few of the heroine’s typical comments:

Falling in love: “To me, a woman in love is a pathetic spectacle. She’s either so miserable that she wants to die, or she’s so happy you want to die.”

Marriage: “No thanks, not me. You know a long time ago I decided to travel the same open road that men travel, so I treat men exactly the way they’ve always treated women.”

Husbands: “Of course, I know for some women, men are a household necessity. Myself, I’d rather have a canary.”

Then there’s a typical night. She…

1. Spots a handsome employee, feigns interest in his ideas, and asks him to come over to her house that night to discuss them.

2. Discourages business talk with flirtation, as when she says, “Are you naturally enthusiastic?” to a new hire, throwing a pillow onto a plush rug with a suggestive look.

RuthChattertonflirting2
3. Orders vodka from her butler, who informs the rest of the staff of the Catherine the Great custom: serving it to soldiers “to fortify their courage.”

4. Exercises with vigor the next morning, clearly energized by the tryst, and comes up with new ideas for the business.

5. Rejects the romantic overtures of her one-night stand, annoyed by his flowers, then offers him a bonus as a kiss-off. She doesn’t want to deal with the moodiness of emotional men at work. (Women, how many times have films suggested this about us?)

At first, I thought the movie would be like Trainwreck, as Alison (Ruth Chatterton) certainly displays the same level of disinterest in building a romance with her one-night stands and blows off a guy after he calls her “ethereal” and otherwise indicates their lack of sexual heat:

Annoyed by his flowery (nonsexual) language
Amy and Alison have an impressive list of conquests, and not only express disinterest in matrimony and kids for themselves, but for others, as when Alison can’t be bothered to remember her friend’s husband’s name, or how many kids she has–much like Amy’s (Amy Schumer’s) scene at her sister’s shower. Both heroines are funny and mostly likable, as when Alison worries about her chauffeur, who has taken a punch in her honor: “Now listen, Puggy, things people say about me don’t bother me,” she says with a lovely smile. “Thanks just the same.”

But in terms of power–and what they do with it–there’s no comparison. After one-night stands fueled by liquor, Amy, hungover, struggles to get through the day.

Alison, in contrast, looks alert, pretty, and pleased with herself, and does a brilliant job at work afterward. The word “trainwreck” is about as far from Alison Drake as a term can be.

Like her more direct heir, Samantha Jones, Alison practically bristles with authority and confidence, but unlike Samantha, she has a whole auto factory full of employees.

One criticism of Sex & the City was that it never took the work as seriously as the characters’ personal lives, which made it less feminist than it could have been. Here, the heroine has no chance for tight friendships, but finds her work thrilling: “Oh, but I love it: the battling, the excitement; I don’t think I could do without it now.” I soon found myself as interested in the business–such as her decision to go with automatic transmission–as in the flings, not something I expected to experience with a romantic comedy.

Like Samantha, Alison wants to sleeps with her hot employees–only in Alison’s case, she does. (Samantha waits to fires hers first).

In fact, Alison has sex with so many of them that there are a flood of bonuses on the company payroll, like some kind of stud fee. Her leer at a new designer is as hilarious to witness as Samantha’s undressing looks. And as with Samantha, her vulnerabilities are evident–in her case, a fear that men are angling for her money rather than her personality or body (either would be fine).

While it’s easy to admire Alison’s moxie, she’s guilty of sexual harassment throughout the story, as when her secretary shows her too much affection after their affair, and she transfers him to Montreal. Promptly afterward, this lovesick conquest watches the latest one-night stand leave her office and calls, “I’ll see you in Montreal.” When Alison falls for Jim (George Brent), mainly because he’s hard to get, his anger at her regular nightly ploy earns our admiration; he won’t sleep with her to keep his job, he retorts.

While she initially decides to fire Jim’s secretary, assuming the two are involved, and then plans to overload her with work, she quickly reconsiders, deciding not to be petty. While she’s still in murky moral territory due to her liaisons with subordinates, she doesn’t reach full anti-villain status, since she won’t fire someone for turning her down or stealing her guy. Still, it’s hard to forget that shady transfer…and how much she reminds us of Don Draper with his secretaries on Mad Men.

I stopped the film multiple times as the end neared, fearful about whatever sexist cliché it was headed for. This character was simply too complex, and Chatterton too wonderful in the role, for me to watch some reductive conclusion.

I was right to be scared (though I feared it would be worse). Oddly, Jim, till then annoying in spite of his rebellion, demonstrated unexpected feminist leanings near the close. Too bad the screenwriters and director chickened out and tacked on totally unbelievable concluding lines.

Despite its shock value and fascinating lead, the film hasn’t reached the popularity or accessibility today it deserves. I could only locate it in DVD form on Netflix, and went for the free month trial of streaming with Warner Archive instead. Go to the effort; it’s worth it.

Top 10 Characters in Teaching Films & Shows

08/20/2015 by leah@carygrantwonteatyou.com 2 Comments

As the school year begins, I’ll be returning again to my favorite educational films–some inspiring, some hilarious. Here are the characters and performances I consider award worthy.

THE TEACHERS: 5 BEST CHARACTERS

5. Mr. Shoop in Summer School (1987)

Gym teacher Mr. Shoop (Mark Harmon) plans to vacation in Hawaii with his girlfriend for the summer, but when the English teacher wins the lottery and immediately quits, Shoop’s forced to teach remedial English. He is the most likable of the teachers I’ve chosen, easygoing and even tempered, good natured even when tried. Ultimately, his slacker ways convert into effort in the classroom, and because he relates to and has no illusions about his students’ disinterest, he’s able to reach them. Most importantly, he has rational expectations of them, and celebrates progress rather than any specific target, as any good teacher should (and would be able to, would the system allow it). Plus, the film is hilarious, and Harmon is so attractive in it.

4. Elizabeth Halsey in Bad Teacher (2011)

Cameron Diaz doesn’t always reach her comic potential, but when she does, as with Elizabeth Halsey (Cameron Diaz) in Bad Teacher, she’s something to watch. The montage of her avoidance of crying students and celebrating teachers makes me laugh every time, as does her unabashedly sexy school car wash and cruel honesty in speaking with her class and grading their work. She is a terrible teacher, but her narcissism and bluntness make her a very, very funny one.

3. Teachers in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (1986) & Peanuts

If pressed, I’d prefer Peanuts‘ gibberish teacher to Ben Stein’s gloriously boring one, but the two are closely tied. Obviously, both types are accurate portrayals of how instructors come across to students. I love how Stein has given upon class participation, simply saying, “anyone, anyone?” then answering himself. But Peanuts’ teacher may get the edge because I have this same reaction ANY time I encounter something I don’t understand. My car is being fixed, I’m listening to explanations of the U.S. debt, and I hear that waa-waa-waa of Peanuts’ comically confusing instructor.

2. Prez in The Wire (2006)

Season 4 of The Wire features the Baltimore school system, with former cop Roland Pryzbylewski, known as Prez (Jim True-Frost), teaching the students from neighborhoods he formerly policed. As a result, he knows what his students are up against, though he isn’t prepared for the challenge of teaching them. I’ve never seen a more accurate depiction of teaching in a difficult district. Prez’s use of gambling odds as an example to finally reach some of his students in the episode “Unto Others” is remarkably telling about their priorities–and squandered potential. We can only wish that those who had more influence in the system were as wise and compassionate as Prez.

1. Sir in To Sir, with Love (1967)

Sir’s (Sidney Poitier) school district in England is characterized as very challenging, even if it looks less so to us in 2015. We see him constantly thwarted, and frequently angry. His race becomes one more thing students have against him. His decision to throw out the lesson plan and begin anew is what any good teacher would do if it were allowed–the problem, of course, is that you only want good teachers doing so.

What I love about Sir is that he’s a reluctant instructor, only there because he can’t get a job in his field, and slowly, these rebellious kids win him over. He is a very flawed character, even socially awkward, and thus very real. Poitier deserved an Oscar for the performance. The theme song makes me tear up every time. And the film has such a lovely, perfect, subtle ending. The movie is inspiring without ever losing track of reality (as most teacher-centric films do).

THE STUDENTS: TOP 5 PORTRAYALS

5. Spicoli in Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982)

Spicoli (Sean Penn), the ultimate surfer dude. I don’t think this character requires any explanation (most would expect to see him as #1). While there is a shadow of this stoner in Amy Heckerling’s Clueless (1995), it’s in her earlier film, Fast Times, that she captured an iconic form of the type, mainly due to Cameron Crowe’s script. Spicoli’s (Sean Penn’s) battles with his teacher, Mr. Hand (who deserves an honorable mention in the list above), are perfect.

Bagel tucked in jeans, shirtless, Spicoli makes us laugh before he says a word. Penn gives him an awkward gait; a spacey expression; long, wordless pauses; and an inability to detect sarcasm. As a result, he is as lovable as he is annoying. Penn turned the surfer dude into comedy gold, and actors have been imitating him ever since.

4. The Frustrated/Bored of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off & Peanuts

There’s really no need to pinpoint an individual in the mass of disinterested students who are ignoring Ben Stein’s flat delivery of “Bueller?” as he calls the roll. The Peanuts characters’ confusion at their instructors’ seeming gibberish are similarly funny, though Charlie Brown’s panic is particularly funny. What’s unavoidably true is just how typical both the boredom and confusion are in any classroom, though hopefully with occasional relief! Beautifully rendered in both cases through the facial expressions of the students as the teacher drones on.

3. The Intellectuals of Better Off Dead (1985)

Most films portray the majority of students as inattentive and uninterested. This film subverts our expectations, with a class enthralled by comically difficult subject matter. They’re so enthusiastic that they groan when they have to leave the classroom, comforted only when their math teacher reassures them: “I’ll see you all tomorrow. Just remember to memorize pages 39 to 110 for tomorrow’s lesson.” It’s so obviously a teacher’s dream of what students would be like after watching too many inspiring education films that it always cracks me up. Lane (John Cusack), in contrast with his peers’ binders of work, takes out one sheet of paper with “Do homework” stuck together with gum. In this case, the slacker is the unpopular one. It’s a mistake not to watch the whole film, but at least catch this scene.

2. The Kids of The Wire, Season 4
I find it hard to write about the students in this season, as they’re far too real: Dukie (Jermaine Crawford), Randy (Maestro Harrell), Namond (Julito McCullum) and Michael (Tristan Wilds) struggle with the lure of selling drugs on the corner in Baltimore, with authority figures often encouraging or passively accepting their abandonment of education.

Watching Michael’s confrontation with a drug dealer.

It’s the most vivid and compelling portrayal I’ve ever seen of the weight so many students bear with them when they enter the classroom. The Wire, unlike 90 percent of cinematic portrayals of teaching, sees that the wider culture and systemic problems of the educational system are far greater forces than one teacher with a great idea (which Prez does have) can combat. Haunting.

1. Chainsaw & Dave of Summer School

All the students in Mr. Shoop’s (Harmon’s) class are distinctive. Their plan–to exchange bribes for trying in school–is diabolical and hilarious in itself. And with characters like these–the awful driver Mr. Shoop has to train, the kid who spent the summer in the bathroom, etc.–who can stop laughing? The most memorable students are obviously Dave (Gary Riley) and Chainsaw (Dean Cameron), the wannabee special-effects guys. Who comes up with such unique characters for a silly film like this one? The tension breaker of and “I don’t know anything” dream of Chainsaw’s before the big test are my favorite depictions of academic stress in any film, book, or story. (I should, though, give an honorable mention to John Travolta’s Barbarino in Welcome Back, Kotter.) Inspired by Chainsaw, I used to suggest to friends a university-wide tension breaker when I was an undergrad.

As the school year begins, I’ll be returning to these favorites to combat moments of frustration and refresh my love for teaching. I hope some of you will do the same.

A Legacy of Self-Amusement: Drew & John Barrymore

08/13/2015 by leah@carygrantwonteatyou.com 19 Comments

Charlie’s Angels (2000) is the epitome of how seriously Drew Barrymore takes herself: the hair flips, the silly punk rock past of her character, action sequences so absurdly, self-consciously over-the-top that they make you smile.

Playfulness seems to be Barrymore ‘s signature, what distinguishes her from her lesser rom-com peers. So it wasn’t surprising that this was a film she chose to produce, an ode to a dumb TV show celebrating sexism/female empowerment/both (depending on your point of view).

The show (1976-81)– for those younger folks out there–featured a wealthy but reserved guy (Charlie), who hired three beautiful detectives (the angels) for his agency. All we ever got of Charlie was his voice, as he never appeared in person and let all arrangements be managed by his assistant, Bosley. The term ‘angel,’ use of possessive, Charlie’s condescending voice, the quick rotations of actresses for the roles (suggesting they were interchangeable)—any of the four could make a feminist cringe. But the women were tough and smart, using their looks to blindside unwary men, much as Columbo used his folksiness.

The film is both a parody and tribute, using the TV show’s theme music, graphics, and basic concept, but mocking the silliness of it too. Cameron Diaz plays the supposed airhead (Natalie) to perfection. Lucy Liu takes on the kind of tough role she always plays, even imitating a dominatrix/efficiency expert in one ploy as detective Alex. As Dylan, Barrymore mocks the over-the-top femininity of her predecessors by embracing a badass, punk rock aesthetic. The strange connection the women have to Charlie is brought to the forefront when their client (Sam Rockwell) suggests that Dylan has daddy issues.

Thinking they get to meet Charlie in person...

Hopeful to meet Charlie in person…

Whatever part she’s in, Barrymore always seems to be playing herself, and part of what keeps us watching her is just how likeable she is, this woman who went through a painful past of abandonment and substance abuse as a kid, and emerged as a woman with empathy for those who contributed to the conditions that put her there. She is both the most tender of the three actresses onscreen—Barrymore always captures vulnerability effectively—and the most sarcastic. Perhaps hers is an earned playfulness, but Barrymore wears it lightly. (How else could you repeatedly perform with Adam Sandler, and more bafflingly, not only star with, but marry Tom Green? Tom Green!) While her acting never wows me, she does.

In Drew’s performances, I don’t see much of her forebears, that famous acting dynasty whose members mesmerize audiences still today. Only in her youthful roles did I ever see traces of the Barrymore family’s skill with drama. I would argue that Irreconcilable Differences (1984); an underrated film about a girl who wants to separate from her narcissistic, divorced parents (in an eerie foreshadowing of Barrymore’s own decision years later); was her strongest dramatic role. Perhaps it just was a part she knew really, really well.

But usually, the actress just prefers, and does better, at comedies. Certainly, Drew lacks the intimidation or gravitas of her great-uncle Lionel…

the nuance of her great-aunt Ethel…

or the presence of her grandfather John…

Of course, her troubled past brings to mind her grandfather’s. But it’s in her self-deprecating goofiness that I see the clearest link to the Barrymore dynasty. While it’s certainly not present in all of the Barrymores’ roles, I see it in John’s charming turn in Grand Hotel, and, of course, in his hilarious supporting character in the glorious Midnight (1939). There’s such a lightheartedness to his approach to the role of Georges Flammarion, and though he was already at the cue card stage of his decline, his humor, at least, had not reached the self-parody stage.

John Barrymore in Midnight

Such lightheartedness is key to Dylan’s (Drew Barrymore’s) character, even when she’s in the direst straights. In the best action sequence in Charlie’s Angels, Dylan has been tied up by her sleazy client, Eric Knox (Sam Rockwell), who has betrayed her after sleeping with her, and tried to kill her already. Knox departs to perform his nefarious schemes, leaving her to his five henchmen. After managing to get her lighter back, she spells out what she will do to escape, buying time but also revealing her confidence.

As she sits in her chair, she calmly explains, smiling at her adversaries all the while, “By the time this is over, every one of you is gonna be face down on the floor, and I’m gonna moonwalk out of here.”

As they rush toward her, she interrupts, looking at each man in turn, “You’re not listening to me. See first, you’re gonna help me out of my chair, and then I’m gonna leapfrog over you, before I break his nose…I’m gonna do all of this with my hands tied behind my back.”

She does exactly what she says:

And her moonwalk is a joy:

You can see the full clip here.

Any actress could have had fun with such a sequence, but there’s so much self-amusement in Drew Barrymore’s portrayal that I kept thinking of her grandfather in Midnight. Sure, he had much more range and talent than she does, but in self-amusement, the two are matched.

This post is part of the Barrymore Trilogy blogathon, hosted by Crystal of In the Good Old Days of Classic Hollywood. See the fantastic entries here!

They Live by Night: The Romeo & Juliet of Noir

08/09/2015 by leah@carygrantwonteatyou.com Leave a Comment

When I see a movie described as Bonnie and Clyde-like, I’m expecting an adrenaline-junkie couple, exciting escapes, violence. Imagine then my surprise to find They Live by Night is a surprisingly sweet tale of young newlyweds who long to–wait for it–go out to dinner together.

It’s true that initially, this film seems a typical noir. Bowie (Farley Granger) is an escaped convict, sprung by fellow criminals Chickamaw (Howard Da Silva) and T-Dub (Jay Flippen) so that he’ll be the getaway driver for their bank robberies.

Jailed seven years for a murder he didn’t commit, Bowie goes along with their plans, thinking the loot will help him pay for a lawyer to prove his innocence. (Yes, that’s how naïve he is.) This supposedly scary criminal looks like this when he’s afraid a girl will disapprove of him:

Bowie, looking like a scared Ralph Macchio.

Resembling a scared Ralph Macchio….

But innocence is the theme of this movie–and not the corrupting of that innocence (as a noir might lead us to expect). While he does commit robberies, Bowie doesn’t seem very interested in them. He’s loyal to his partners, but ready to quit at any time. In fact, we see very little of his robberies in the film, and very much of his quiet time with his love. What makes it a noir is simple: he’s trapped by his past actions, and escape isn’t looking likely. His hopes for getting out of the mess he’s caused are sad to hear, even if they do endear him to Keechie (Cathy O’Donnell).

Keechie, whose drunken father hides the escapees, falls for Bowie after his fumbling attempt to talk to her (she seems to be the first girl he’s met). When they spend time together after an injury and his partner Chickamaw’s bloody response to it given Bowie an undeserved reputation for villainy, the two become even closer. Their impulse decision to marry after she runs away with him shows them fearful, hesitant as they approach the altar–like the kids they are.

These two are so innocent I kept wondering if they were even going to kiss.

At points, there’s so much giddiness when they smile at each other it’s easy to forget that these dark shadows on the screen portend something, that their romance probably isn’t headed anywhere better than Shakespeare’s famed lovers.’

(I should mention, by the way, that I’ve never found Rome & Juliet romantic; I regard it as the tragedy of teenage-think-gone-wrong, when a new crush means forever-love, and a life without him/her is THE END. It’s difficult for me to fathom that others find fickle Romeo–who was in love with Rosaline the day before–romantic.)

While there’s no feud between the couple’s families in They Live by Night, Keechie’s father helps the police catch Bowie, and the latter’s partners refuse to let him go straight, giving us a bit of that lovely, narcissistic Capulet-Montague spirit.

Despite the odds, Keechie and Bowie do manage to escape the patent absurdity of their names and the triteness of their situation, making us root against others hunting them. O’Donnell plays that same almost-too-sugary supporter as she did when portraying Wilma in The Best Years of Our Lives, but with enough toughness and grit to make us like her. Granger perfectly captures the blustering young lover trying to do the right thing, but kind of clueless about how to pull it off.

While the criminal partners of Bowie’s are fairly stereotypical, others the couple meet are not; the strange, quirky hotel proprietors and marriage officiants seem to promise sympathy and add interest to the story–though no one deserves as much trust as these two are willing to shell out. You just keep wondering how this kid could survive 7 years in prison and STILL be this childlike, or a girl could have a corrupt, alcoholic father; a criminal for an uncle; and remain such an optimist. And yet, they come across as real on the screen, and the freshness they bring to their experiences is enchanting, as with this scene of them ecstatic about going out for dinner.

I won’t reveal how it ends, but the film is suspenseful enough in spite of many slow interludes, and the characters compelling enough, to keep you watching, and hoping….

Pretending to Be Contagious: 2 Comic Scenes

08/02/2015 by leah@carygrantwonteatyou.com Leave a Comment

In one of my favorite scenes from The Thin Man series, Nick Charles pretends his wife is contagious for laughs. It made me think of outbreaks, and how they’ve been used to panic audiences—or amuse them. Somehow funny scenes so often result from mocking our greatest fears. So on the lovely actress’s birthday, here’s that scene—and another like it from many decades later—when the characters mess with the crowds around them for very different reasons.

Eliminating Suitors: Nora in Another Thin Man (1939)
Nora’s (Myrna Loy’s) considerable sex appeal is a joke in many of The Thin Man movies. Ex-cons can’t believe someone so desirable could be Nick’s wife instead of his mistress. Men follow her and hit on her constantly. Just look at her.

Who wouldn’t? When Nick (William Powell) seeks his wife in Another Thin Man, he finds a crowd of men vying for her attention.

To clear them away quickly, he begins, “Now Mommy, you know better than to come to a place like this your first day out of bed. What if the health officers find out? They’ll put you right back in quarantine.”

At first, her expression suggests she may be annoyed by his ploy. But her response tells us otherwise: “I won’t stay in quarantine. I don’t care who catches it.”

The two are instantly alone. Whether this routine is a regular gag with them (it seems so practiced) or just a function of their quick-wittedness, the couple delivers it—as they do everything—beautifully.

Cracking Themselves Up: Sam & Carl in Ghost (1990)
We witness a smirk from Sam (Patrick Swayze) as soon as he and his friend Carl (Tony Goldwyn) enter the elevator of their business in Ghost. We know therefore whatever follows is a gag of some kind. Clearly, there’s some level of improvisation to their conversation, with each trying to outwit each other, and out-gross-out their unlucky audience.

Carl starts coughing.

Sam: “How you feeling? What did the doctor say?”

Carl: “He ummm said that it was contagious. That it was really—”

Sam: “No.”

Yeah. “Yeah. He said that I shouldn’t even be coming in today.”

Sam: “What about the rash?”

Carl: “The rash?”

Sam: “Mmhm.”

Carl: “The rash is ummm also incredibly contagious. He said that…will…spreading.”

Of course, it gets even grosser from there…and the two act like 10-year-old boys instead of grown men in enjoying their little joke.

I think I enjoy silly scenes like these because I know I would be far more likely to be the one decamping than the one making the joke. I would be the butt of the ploy, and can’t help but smile at how easily these characters would play me.

Cary Grant Won't Eat You

Classic movies for phobics

Author: leah@carygrantwonteatyou.com