Alone at the Movies

To share or not to share... It is a question for this movie lover. All my life I have longed to share this love, to discuss and share this particular passion with enthusiasm. And yet yesterday, when I settled into my theater seat, alone, I was overwhelmed by a feeling of sheer bliss.

It is only alone in the dark that I can truly make that magical connection. My heart space opens to its inner landscape and allows whatever is happening within those silver shadows to take over. It is all so very private. Tears flow freely when I am alone, my chest swells with love when I alone, and I truly allow something to touch my true self, something I can never do in the company of others.

Maybe this happens because my initial love of film happened while watching television. It was a lonely pursuit which even called for passing up a trip to the mall with friends because Wuthering Heights was on. Shopping at Lerner versus getting lost in the brutal romance of Laurence Olivier...not much of a choice for me. But I was a solitary kid and have remained so after all these years; the perfect candidate for a single seat in the dark.

It's not that I don't love sharing this passion by blogging, going to festivals or on social media (which allows me to share while remaining solitary - kind of a jackpot).

As an adult, those solitary experiences have become a road map or guide to that innermost space in me , the one behind and beneath those carefully constructed ramparts that life demands we build to survive. And when the castle is breached, oh what joy. When Steve Martin and Lily Tomlin engage in a silly, uninhibited dance as the credits roll at the end of "All of Me," I unfailingly burst into tears. I think they are tears of happiness, but I'm not sure. The sight of such unbridled, primal joy always cracks through that armor and finds its way to my true heart. And, oh, when Rocky Sullivan, in all of his swagger and power lets that light into his heart at the end of "Angels With Dirty Faces," yes, my own heart opens in recognition and surrenders.

Surrender. That seems to be the right word. A surrender in the dark that allows that sliver of light to find its way to a place where there in no judgment. Oh cinema, I open to your power and your story and together there is total trust alone there in the dark.

But there is something else - a bit of a paradox. Experiencing it truly alone, even in the company of others is one thing. It is private and precious. Yet how to explain that joy when shared with strangers in the same space. One of my most treasured movie-going experiences is this shot of Clark Gable in "Gone With the Wind." The theatrical re-release in 1967 was so exciting to this barely teen-aged kid. I remember they gave out beautiful color programs (I'm sure I still have it somewhere) and in a packed theater there was an audible and collective gasp from probably every female in the audience. Yes, my heart stopped for a second, too, but knowing that everyone felt what you felt was sublime and fun. Just remembering that moment fills my heart close to bursting. 

And, truly, I will never forget the laughter during the baked beans scene in "Blazing Saddles." The dialogue was drowned out by laughter.

Preston Sturges got it in "Sullivan's Travels." 

Times do change and a lot of what is considered entertaining has passed me by, I fear (although I've always had at least one foot firmly planted in decades before my time). The theater yesterday was almost empty and even though talking, crunching, sniffing, strange body parts too near me and cell phones glowing in the dark irritate me, I felt a little sad. I'm torn between sharing with live strangers, sharing in silence (as here), and holding that experience close within my heart because, in the end, there are no words to adequately describe the love. But, being human, we try. One thing our Covid experience has taught me: even though I think I don't like people, I guess I need them. Go figure!

Woody Allen finds faith in a world where the Marx Brothers
exist in "Hannah and Her Sisters."

Lady Sylvia Ashley: 2 Kings, 2 Lords and a Prince

This is my contribution to the Wedding Bells Blogathon hosted by the always elegant Annette at Hometowns to Hollywood. Click here to immerse yourself in more cinematic wedded bliss.

Who is Sylvia?

The elegant Sylvia

I love a good Hollywood true true-love story. Lucy & Desi, Larry & Viv, Liz and Dick.... wait a minute..... Seems like somebody else always has to muscle their way into perfect harmony, doesn't it?

2 Kings of Hollywood

Two of my favorite Hollywood stars are Douglas Fairbanks, Sr. and Clark Gable. Aside from their unforgettable screen performances, there was something so dashing, so masculine about both men, along with the big plus of each having a breathtaking singular love story.

One of the biggest love stories of early Hollywood was the one between America's Sweetheart, Mary Pickford and that swashbuckler deluxe, Douglas Fairbanks. Both ditched inconvenient spouses and braved public scorn to be together. The lord and lady of Pickfair were so beloved by their public that their split in 1936 after 16 years of (alleged) wedded bliss was shocking.

True love

Even more shocking was the appearance of this lady on Doug's arm.

Doug and his new lady with dear friends Norma Shearer and Irving Thalberg

Who was she? Who was this nobody, this Yoko, who stole the virtuous, sweet Mary from her one true love? She was none other than the notoriously delicious and fun-loving Lady Sylvia Ashley (Silky to her friends, thank you).

A little background on Silky (if I may call her that). Born Edith Louisa Sylvia Hawkes to a decidedly middle class British family, Sylvia worked her way up from lingerie model, dancer to show girl/stage actress of middling success during the 1920s. But Sylvia's eye was not on a great theatrical career. A wise gal who played to her strengths, she devoted her considerable talents to marrying well. In 1927 she bagged an English aristocrat, Lord Ashley, and put her stage acting days behind her.

The marriage only lasted until 1934, but she was forever after known as Lady Sylvia Ashley, no matter who the current spouse. The main reason the marriage went south was because Sylvia had fallen for Douglas Fairbanks and he, a sucker for British nobility* no matter how tarnished, was smitten. Smitten enough, in fact, to ditch the calm and quietly aging Mary for this delightful, young social butterfly of cafe society. Doug relentlessly pursued youth while his own slipped away and Sylvia pursued the glamorous and more relaxed world of Hollywood society. It was much more her style. When they wed in 1936, she was 32 and he was 53.

Awkward! Ex-wife Mary Pickford and current wife Sylvia accidentally book a flight on the same plane. Good thing BFF Norma Shearer was there to referee.

I love this photo. Sylvia is shown in all of her charm and beauty, while Doug looks simply too old and too tired to keep up with her.

By all accounts, Sylvia was a hot number and the aging swashbuckler had a hard time keeping up with his cosmopolitan bride. Ever impressed with British titles and high society, Doug did his best, in tux, to squire his lady through endless late nights of partying, but, clearly, she exhausted him. Ex-wife Mary, who knew him best, predicted "that woman will kill him."

In the end, after 3 years of marriage, at age 56, Doug's heart gave out. Sylvia was genuinely grieved over Doug's demise and always spoke of him with great affection and respect. It was Sylvia who oversaw the creation of her husband's final resting place, one appropriate for a king of Hollywood.

Doug's final resting place in the Hollywood Forever Cemetery

In 1944, Sylvia took another quick trip to the altar with Edward Stanley, 6th Baron Stanley of Aderley, but Hollywood society was more appealing to her than the stuffy drawing rooms of the British aristocracy and by 1948 the couple had divorced.

Gable and Lombard enjoying each other's company

The adorable love affair of Clark Gable and Carole Lombard charmed the public and her tragic death in a plane crash in 1942 saddened the world and broke his heart. This was one Hollywood love affair that did not end in divorce.

This King of Hollywood had to go on and live his life, and somehow, the man's man who loved the down to earth Lombard ended up with Silky. And it didn't end well.

No words are needed

Both Sylvia and Gable called the union a mistake. Maybe she was looking for another Doug. Maybe he was looking for another Lombard. After all, Sylvia did like horses and claimed to like to fish, kind of like Lombard. Their married life, at least in public, seemed to be a series of posed photos of wedded fun and bliss. The reality was much different. The spontaneous joy of his life with Lombard was nowhere to be seen.

It only looked like fun

It wasn't long after the wedding day that Gable developed an active dislike for his extravagant and very social wife. Sylvia simply referred to the marriage as a mistake. The odd couple marriage lasted a whole 3 years before they divorced in 1952.

Sylvia took one more walk down the aisle in 1954 to Russian Prince Dimitri Jorjadze. Since the Russian royal family had long been ousted, the Prince made his living by dabbling in the hotel business and racing cars. While she was never officially crowned a Queen as a result of her marriages to her 2 Kings, she did manage, in the end, to receive the title of Princess. She remained married to him until her death in 1977. While this marriage endured, it seems they spent most of their time apart. At last Sylvia discovered the secret (for her) to a successful and lasting union.

Great friends with many Hollywood regulars (including the ever-present Norma Shearer and the equally elegant Constance Bennett), Sylvia was never a second choice or replacement, which may be a reason her marriages to those 2 Hollywood leading men didn't last. She wasn't Pickford and she wasn't Lombard. She was simply herself - lively, extravagant and fun loving. She was more than just a showgirl with ambition or a heat-seeking bride in search of a lonely groom. Along with Constance Bennett and other Hollywood heavy hitters, she was very active in helping provide food, clothing and medical aid for refugees as a result of WWII.

Maybe I'm being a bit of a romantic, but it seems that her marriage to Doug was, for her, a happy one. Sylvia, Princess Jorjadze, rests in the same Hollywood Forever Cemetery, her grave in direct sight-line to Doug's. I think she just wanted to be nearby.

Head on over to Hometowns to Hollywood for more matrimonial mischief!

* The allure of Britain and its nobility seemed to run in the Fairbanks DNA. Son Doug Jr. was an avowed Anglophile who developed a British accent and spent a great deal of his adult life across the pond (before finally resting with his dad in Hollywood). Jr. was firmly on Team Mary and memorable dubbed his new step-mother "Lady Ashcan."

There's One Thing I Do Know....and that is that I love you, Scarlett. In spite of you and me and the whole silly world going to pieces around us, I love you.

Scarlett is 75 and she never looked better! (keep reading for more information about the giveaway!)

You're beautiful. No, you're beautiful

Say what you want, the gal has staying power. She has been restored to her original Technicolor glory and she is more beautiful than ever.

Real Estate Lesson #1: Location, Location, Location

I know, I know....it's probably Honey Boo-Boo's favorite movie, too, but I can't help it. It's a great story. Margaret Mitchell wrote a timeless winner and created unforgettable characters. David O. Selznick drove himself and everyone else nuts to produce the work of a lifetime. Max Steiner wrote an unforgettable and emotional score, Walter Plunkett designed costumes that live forever in our memories, and Victor Fleming (and George Cukor) herded these cats with skill and clarity.

Director Fleming at the helm

Now, the old gal has become rather commonplace these days and is regularly shown on television. So, remembering the great experience of seeing it in the theater many moons ago, I jumped at the chance to see it on the big screen. Boy, am I glad I did.

Shown in its original aspect ratio, the close-ups are particularly lovely (and not stretched across a wide screen giving it that botox look). The performances are almost perfect, with Hattie McDaniel's Mammy full of heart and dignity and Olivia de Havilland's Melanie especially touching in her scenes with Gable. I have always had a bit of an issue with Leslie Howard's Ashley (who was apparently raised in England and educated at Oxford. Which makes me wonder when Scarlett had a chance to fall in love with him). But today, sitting in a theater full of people, I gave him a pass. He charmed me. A bit.

Let's dish during nap time

The heart and soul of Tara and beyond

And let's just get it out there and there could never be another Rhett other than Clark Gable and another Scarlett other than Vivien Leigh. Gable is magnificent and sexy (more so on the big screen than you can even imagine), but Leigh is a miracle. She is in almost every scene and she carries this load on her elegant shoulders like the champ that Scarlett is.

Spend what you like, Scarlett. What a husband!

I guess that's what I love about Gone With the Wind. It really is all about Miss O'Hara. Scarlett is many things, and some of them not nice, but she is a survivor and stronger than she ever knew. She is put through the wringer and refuses to give up. And, after all that she had been through, remains an optimist. You go girl. I know you got him back.

Scarlett in her lovebird dress on her honeymoon

Giveaway alert (good though October 11, 2014)

Interested in winning a copy of the Gone With the Wind 75th Anniversary Blu-Ray DVD? Besides a bright and shiny restored version, the DVD comes with a few nice extras including the Christopher Plummer narrated "Making of a Legend," a reminiscence by Olivia de Havilland and the TCM bio of Vivien Leigh.

If you'd like to take a chance, please see the instructions on the sidebar to the right of this post.

Good luck!

Garbo vs. Gable: The Talkies Have Won

Susan Lenox (Her fall and Rise)....the fall of silence, the rise of sound
Garbo and Gable: what a pair! MGM was notoriously dense when providing Garbo with a suitable leading man, but here they nailed it.

They walk in beauty

In 1931, Greta Garbo was more than a queen of the movies. Like the empress of some remote, exotic land, she retained her air of mystery and wonder as talking pictures smashed, as Norma Desmond said, “the idols of the world.” Garbo survived sound. Her deep, accented growl complimented her image. But sound, combined with the changing tastes of depression-era audiences, also robbed her of some of her power. She moved with authority in the movie-worlds of satins and furs, of heavy sighs and sophisticated shrugs. But by 1931, audiences craved something more realistic, something grittier, something so un-Garbo.

She had proved that she could knock back a viskey with the best of them in her first talkie, Anna Christie (1930). After a few more sophisticated roles, MGM again walked the pre-code tightrope with Garbo in 1931’s Susan Lenox (Her Fall and Rise).

Garbo and Gable play house

Based on a scandalous book of the same name, Garbo plays an illegitimate and abused farm girl who is sold into marriage to a man she finds repugnant and who tries to rape her before their wedding. Determined not to marry the lout, she rushes off into a storm and lands in the nice comfy home of none other than Clark Gable. And here the story become unlike anything Garbo did before or since.

In 1931, the pre-mustache Gable was just beginning his long rein as the king of Hollywood. No matter how ordinary Garbo is made to look in this film, she is never just a regular gal. Can you imagine finding Garbo in your barn in a storm? Gable, however, no matter how gorgeous, always comes across natural and at ease and just an ordinary guy who happens to to look like a movie star. He is modern, she is timeless.

Mustache or no mustache - HOT

Garbo as the farmer's daughter

The story is wild, with Garbo joining a circus, living as the mistress of a crooked politician and finally chasing Gable, who has rejected her,  to the jungles of South America where both (he a drunk and she a not-quite prostitute/dancer) are reconciled. She gets to wear an array of fantastic Adrian designs and is more "regular" than she ever appeared before or since. The scene where Gable teaches her to fish is adorable. Garbo is many things, but she is rarely cute or adorable. It is great fun to see her this way.

Garbo laughs - and fishes!

Hard working circus professional

A celestial vision

So, here is Garbo, giving her usual  fine performance, looking spectacular and having a grand old time and it is Gable who, I think, dominates. He is new, he is bright and, yes, he is the future and there is no turning back.

Passing the torch

While is has been said that Garbo and Gable did not like one another, their chemistry is undeniable. So much so that Garbo was given first crack at re-teaming with Gable in Red Dust. After Garbo declined, the role went to Jean Harlow, another nod to the future. Garbo would go on to give 10 more magical performances before retreating to the realm of the gods - her true home. Gable would continue as a star of the first magnitude for another 30 years.

Star Transformations: This Does not JUST Happen!

Sometimes - a lot of times - most times - okay, all the time - when I look in the mirror I get very downhearted. It seems as though it takes a lot of product and effort to get me together to face the world and the results are not very encouraging. No matter how hard I try, I never look like a star. But then I remember that a star did not always look like a star. I'd like to think that, with a team of industrial strength beauticians giving me the Star Treatment, the same results could be achieved for me and I could be transformed from a caterpillar to a butterfly.

Here are a few that needed just a little assistance to achieve that "extra" something:

Greta Garbo:
Before the Star Treatment

No so impressive, is she?

After the Star Treatment:

Much better, no?

Marlene Dietrich:
Before the Star Treatment

Umm...not quite.....

After the Star Treatment

There she is!

The Star Treatment is not just reserved for foreign actresses who might not have the advantages of American Glamor. Here are a few American gals who needed the Treatment:

Joan Crawford:

Before the Star Treatment:

Not her best look

After the Star Treatment

Glamor Puss

Lana Turner:

Before the Star Treatment

(Yes - she needed a little assistance)

to go from this.....

to this!

Rita Hayworth
Even a goddess needs a hand. Before the Star Treatment:

 a pretty enough girl

After the Star Treatment

They did a good job with this one!

The guys are not immune to a make-over, either. A good haircut (both head and facial) as well eye makeup and lighting can do wonders.

John Gilbert
Before the Star Treatment

an ordinary fellow

After the Star Treatment

Wow!

Clark Gable:
Before the Star Treatment

Not bad, but not quite  royalty

After the Star Treatment

His Majesty, The King

James Cagney
Before The Star Treatment

Not so tough...

After the Star treatment. As Lady Gaga can tell you, a little eye makeup can make you look fierce...

You've got my attention!

Even Lassie needed some help!
Before the Star Treatment:

No one is immune to a bad hair day

After the groomer works his magic

Ready for my close-up!

So, I face each day looking like a "before" picture, but I just know that if MGM would send those beauticians to my house and follow me all day with the proper lighting, I, too, could look like a star!