James Cagney: I Know I Shouldn't Love You, But......

Tough or Tender?

.

Sigh... I know I shouldn't love you, Jimmy, but I do. You won't be good to me, you won't do right by me, you might even be mean to me, but, gee, I sure think you're swell.

There are others more handsome, but hands down James Cagney wins the charisma contest. He is, at every stage of his career, irresistible. He's not romantic, although you hope he will be. No, it's that little boy/charming psycho cocktail mixed with a generous sprig of good humor and dangerous grace that has me hooked. And he knows it. For those of us who ever lusted after the bad boys, he is the alpha treasure, the chairman of the board.

He can be sweet and often is. Think the Cagney of "City for Conquest" and "The Strawberry Blonde." Doesn't your heart just melt over his devotion to Ann Sheridan and (eventually) Olivia De Havilland? He almost seems as though he could be domesticated. Almost. He is Jimmy as we want him to be. He cooperates for a film or two, but it's not who he really is. He will not be tamed.

It's fun to watch him dance in "Yankee Doodle Dandy" and "Footlight Parade," but it's even more fun to watch him dance in "Angels with Dirty Faces" and "The Roaring Twenties." While not musical films, his performances are totally musical. His body moves to an efficient tempo like a tommy gun at target practice. His voice, hands and eyes are stylized accessories that accompany a body in full command of itself. Watch him lean into an adversary, his form at a perfect 90 degree angle.He hovers a bit, just to make sure there is the proper amount of menace, and then spins on his heels with a flourish. Later in life the body got a little stockier, but he never lost the musicality. His tortured passion for Doris Day in "Love Me or Leave Me" is  a symphony;  his Cody Jarrett of "White Heat" grand opera.

Cagney was a complicated soul who just wanted to be a simple guy. He really hated having those moments of insight and used his fists, his wits and various illegal means to operate in his world. His downfall often came because, for some reason only he, and not the rest of his thug associates, had a code of ethics. He was honorable. And that's what makes all of those bad-boy characters so endearing.Cagney is redeemable (as well as masculine, cute, sexy and funny). He portrayed himself as a tough guy from the slums, but the elegant dancer is always in view. Together, they combine to make beautiful motion picture music.

Some super Cagney films (so many to chose from) are: Taxi, Picture Snatcher, Hard to Handle, G-Men, and the aforementioned Angels With Dirty Faces, The Roaring Twenties, Footlight Parade, Yankee Doodle Dandy and Love Me or Leave Me. And - of course - anything that he ever appeared in. He is not known as a great lover, but paired with the right gal (Ann Sheridan in City for Conquest or Torrid Zone), he stops your heart.

Cagney and Sheridan: Perfect Together

Silent Films: It's Personal

Watching a silent film is an intensely personal experience. No matter how many people are with you in the theater (if you are lucky enough to see one in a theater), you are truly alone in the dark. You are alone with your thoughts, your dreams, the (imagined) sound of a voice, the throb of your heart. The right music casts an even larger spell and you are carried away on an internal magic carpet ride. Norma Desmond was only half right when she said they had the eyes of the whole wide world. The marriage of film and silence created a portal to a pure and primitive place in the viewer's consciousness.

The unspoken longing, the secret desire, the private passion, these belong to the owner in their most perfect form. Once spoken and shared they cannot be altered. The internal has found a voice and the spell is broken.The silent film enlists the viewer in a very intimate partnership. Each viewer's interpretation of the images on the screen is slightly different, colored by each individual's inner landscape.The personal ideal of love, beauty, humor and heartbreak is added.  One gives life to the other.  No one's experience can be exactly the same.If sound films are prose (beautiful, passionate, exquisite, hilarious prose), then silents are poetry.

The language of silent film is not our native tongue anymore. If you ended up living in a country where the language was not the one you grew up learning and speaking, most likely, no matter how expert you become, it will always feel slightly foreign. You might even think first in your native language and speak in your adopted one. And so, watching a silent film today requires a bit of adjustment. As viewers, we are not used to being asked to fill in the blanks. Silents requires you to strip yourself of all self-consciousness and delve into your inner realm. 

I invite you to spend 10 minutes or so with Greta Garbo and John Gilbert in "Flesh and the Devil." Click on the gray right-pointing arrow and turn up your speakers to listen to the gorgeous music of Carl Davis. There are no words......

Jean Harlow: Goddess of Bling and Cosmetics

Imagine you are in Macy's Jewelry Department. There are three counters to choose from: one that offers cheap but irresistibly shiny and huge imitation rings and bracelets, another that offers real glittering gems and gold, all just a little too bold for the average consumer, and lastly, a counter filled with tiny, understated 10k gold pieces, just perfect for the shy and demure. For those who are attracted to bright shiny objects, counters 1 and 2 beckon.

Similarly, there were three Jean Harlows. The first was the cheap platinum blonde draped in clingy satin and covered in jewels. This was the Jean of "The Public Enemy" and "Iron Man." She was tawdry and outrageously trashy, but like the cheap hardware, she dazzled. Her electroplated hair was her crowning glory, her face a canvas of cosmetic bravery, her clothes barely masking a rock candy swizzle stick form. Maybe her acting was not so great, but she was mesmerizing.

Unlike the "natural" beauties that came before (and after) her, Jean Harlow was a gal who freely embraced product. There was no effort to make believe this was real. This just didn't happen. This took effort. She bleached, painted and plucked and made it clear that she was most pleased with the results. She adorned her natural self with platinum hair, makeup, jewels and satin lounging pajamas. Her message was clear: Forget about what God gave you. You can make yourself over. And you can have fun.

The second Jean was a refinement of the first. She was still a tart, but the MGM cleanup crew was clearly at work. She was no longer cheap. She was now glamorous. This Jean made her first appearance as the " Red-Headed Woman," and, combined with "Red Dust"," she was the trollop deluxe made acceptable because she was fun. She reached her apex in "Dinner at Eight" and "Bombshell" and the images of her in those films are unforgettable. White hair, white feathers, white satin, white shag rugs, deco jewels, black (presumably red) lips, bonbons and the ever present mirror. A goddess for the age of electricity.

The third Jean is an example of messing with success. There are reams written about this, but the toning down of the hair and makeup and sexuality was a mistake. Jean Harlow would never be Mary Astor. And why bother?

For me, Jean Harlow defines the phrase "you go girl." She slapped on her makeup and checked the mirror before bravely sailing out to conquer the world, armed only with cosmetics, big jewels and nerve. My hero!

Star Struck

I love movies, and do appreciate the director, the writer, the editor and all the other creative forces that combine to create them. But, there is no denying the Stars. I can't help it. I am Star-struck. They are the champagne of the cinema, bubbly and intoxicating. The rare vintages are unforgettable and addictive.


My tastes are eclectic, and while I love most of the big ones, there a few that creep in that are not so common. So, in no particular order, I'd like to explore:
The Ladies:
Jean Harlow
Marilyn Miller
Nancy Carroll
Mary Pickford
Clara Bow
Doris Day

The Gentlemen:
Douglas Fairbanks
James Cagney
Edward G. Robinson
Fred Astaire
William  Holden
John Wayne

This does not mean that I will not just have to include Rita Hayworth, Robert Mitchum, Audrey Hepburn, Natalie Wood, Gene Kelly, Judy Garland, and Gloria Swanson. I have to learn to appreciate Al Jolson, Gary Cooper and Joan Crawford. And will that perfect bitch Louise Brooks make an appearance? Oh - and Cary Grant and Ann Sheridan, too. Can't forget them. So much has been written about Chaplin and Keaton, but I just might take a crack at them in a brave moment (as well as a few others).

What can I say? They go to my head.

Alone in the Dark

In a dream, in a place and time that never changes...... in a piece of film......
that is where I long to be. Forever surrounded by mood music, all of the beauty,all of the passion, all of the drama, the comedy, the startling moments, all unchanged. Always unchanged. The world grinds along, but for all of us wonderful people out there in the dark, the seat in the theater is sacred. The dark rises up from the floor, it embraces us and we are, collectively, alone together. We are carried away and experience intimacy with the shadows whose lives are lit by our imagination.

I'd like to share my thoughts about classic films and how much they mean to me with others who love the dark.