National Classic Movie Day: 6 Decades/6 Double Features

This is my entry into The Classic Film and TV Cafe's annual National Classic Movie Day blogathon. This year's theme is 6 films - 6 decades. Click here to see more personal choices by some awesome movie lovers.

If you're like me, you have a list of favorites. And, because they are favorites, I've written way too many times about them. So, in the spirit of not boring myself, let alone you, to death, I've decided to pair an almost- top favorite with an absolute favorite to create a National Classic Movie Day Double Feature (remember those? If you do, you're probably a classic yourself). I'm also tying them together with a (sometimes very loose) thematic thread...sort of. Here goes...

1910s: The Immigrant and The New York Hat: Big Apple Love and Longing

The main feature is one of my favorite Chaplin shorts, 1917's "The Immigrant." The second feature is 1912's "The New York Hat." Chaplin gazes at the Statue of Liberty in New York Harbor and Mary Pickford gazes longingly at a fancy New York hat in a shop window. There's always been something about New York.

$10 is a  fortune for Mary in "The New York Hat."

Have you seen this film? This is a charming little short with a hefty pedigree. Directed by D.W. Griffith and written by Anita Loos and Frances Marion, it stars Mary Pickford and Lionel Barrymore in Mary Pickford's swan song to her Biograph association. I love everything about this film, including its sly and humorous take down of small town gossips, but mainly I am always - always - astounded by Mary Pickford's incredible star power. It is impossible not to take your eyes off of her or be enchanted by her. After 109 years, she is undeniably a bright and shinning and ever lasting star.

1920s: Our Hospitality and The Thief of Bagdad: Go Big. 

The main feature for this decade would be Buster Keaton's great first feature, 1923's "Our Hospitality." I love the incredibly clever story and, of course, Buster's humor. But mainly I love this film for Buster's bravery and audacity in both his stunts and his incredible period recreation. The little guy went big in all ways.

The second feature pairing is Douglas Fairbanks' 1924 "The Thief of Bagdad." This film is epic in its splendor and size and in its romance. Photos cannot do it justice. Check out this beautiful trailer for a real flavor of this film, accompanied by a beautiful Carl Davis (and Rimsky-Korsakov score). Norma Desmond (more about her later) said "they took the idols of the world and smashed them." Here at the height of his star power, Fairbanks creates an over-sized fantasy that is a feast for the eyes and imagination. This was the golden decade of movie magic and romance. Never again would film speak to the entire world in such a singular voice, never again would the private imaginations of movie goers soar in such private and personal splendor.

1930s: City Lights and Love Me Tonight: I Humbly Apologize...

The main feature is Chaplin's great 1931 "City Lights." I've written way too much about it already, so let's just focus here on the beautiful story of a poor fellow who will stretch the truth about his humble conditions to win the heart of his lady love.

Chevalier and MacDonald sizing each other up

The second feature here is 1932's "Love Me Tonight." Ah, "the son of a gun is nothing but a tailor!" (so the song goes). Chevalier, the humble tailor who masquerades as a nobleman to win his princess, oozes his most cheeky French charm, Jeanette MacDonald is at her sexiest and least artificial, there's a score to die for by Rodgers and Hart, and it's all directed in the Lubitsch manner by Rouben Mamoulian. An added plus: A delicious Myrna Loy, Charlie Ruggles and Charles Butterworth are along for this joyous and carefree ride. "Love Me Tonight" is a perfect cinematic confection that tastes like desert but is as pleasing as a full course meal. Isn't it romantic? Yes! 

1940s: Double Indemnity and Leave Her to Heaven: Pretty Poison

"Double Indemnity" (1944) is one of my all time favorites. What more can I say? It is Billy Wilder perfect - which is perfect x 10 (at least). Barbara Stanwyck's unforgettable femme fatale is poisonously fatal to everyone, including herself. But, she had us at the ankle bracelet.

Please don't let Ellen take you swimming.....

The second feature for this decade is 1945's "Leave her to Heaven." Talk about a poison femme fatale. This noir in glorious color has everything: great locations, sympathetic secondary characters, and an irresistible potboiler of a plot. However, it all bows in service to Gene Tierney's psychopathic Ellen. Beautiful to look at, deadly to hold. I can't think of a femme fatale more beautiful and ultimately more loathsome.

1950s: Sunset Boulevard and Strangers on a Train: Kooks and Unrequited Love

Kooks and unrequited love seems to be a theme that runs through this decade. Sunset Boulevard is my favorite film of any decade and Norma Desmond one of my most favorite characters. Period. Poor Norma.... fruitcake mad for Joe Gillis... and poor Max...fruitcake mad for Norma. More Billy Wilder perfection.

Criss Cross....

Hitchcock's 1951 "Strangers on a Train," the other half of this nutty double feature, also has a kook who seems to be, if not in love, at least enthralled with his unwilling partner in crime. The way the word "Guy" drips out of Bruno's mouth is about as creepy as it gets. I kind of think even Norma Desmond would head for the door in Bruno's presence.

1960s: The Apartment and Charade: surrounded by baddies

Billy Wilder again! I guess all I need are Chaplin and Wilder films to feel happy. Aside from the complicated and adorable love story between Jack Lemmon and Shirley MacLaine, one of the uncomfortable aspects of "The Apartment" is the casual immorality of of all those guys at Consolidated Insurance.

Seriously, what's not to love here?

1963's "Charade" finds Audrey and Cary (I'm on a first name basis with these 2) also surrounded by bad guys. That's about it for any connection to "The Apartment" (except maybe each has a memorable theme song). But, since this is one of my favorites from the '60s, I had to include it. It is beautiful, clever, thrilling and I love it. I never tire of it.

Oh wait! Can we have a triple feature for the 60s? I would gladly get more popcorn and sit through Mel Brooks' "The Producers" (1967) any time, any place. There are too many reasons why to count, but mainly because for the previous 4 years I kept repeating one line of the film over and over again (last line before the fade out):

Thank you, Mel Brooks, for all the laughs.

And many thanks to Rick at The Classic Film and TV Café for reminding us about National Classic Movie Day.. although for most of us, that's every day, right?

 

I'm Smitten: The Fetching Bernice Claire and the 2 Mr. Grays

It's been a while since I have been smitten with a new-to-me find (classic movie wise). Being a fan of those early days musicals, Bernice Claire has been on my radar, but I have never seen her in anything. Thanks to good old TCM, I finally got to see her in "Spring is Here," one of those impossibly awful but utterly charming early movie musicals.

In his book "A Song in the Dark," Richard Barrios describes Bernice Claire as "fetching," a word that perfectly describes her screen presence. Before there was Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy there was Bernice Claire and Alexander Gray. In that first flush of florid movie musicals their voices blended to produce musical magic. More about Mr. Alexander Gray later.

Just take a look at her... the smile, the pert little nose, the natural manner and the lovely voice. Oh, and please ignore that other Mr. Gray - Lawrence of the nasally, annoyingly ordinary voice. Here they are singing "With a Song in My Heart," from "Spring is Here" (1930) - courtesy of Rodgers and Hart.

Her more permanent partner in song was Alexander Gray. Like Nelson Eddy, he possessed a booming baritone, and like Nelson Eddy he did a great imitation of a piece of wood. I had seen Mr. Gray in "Sally," when he supported Marilyn Miller, but since her talent was dance, there were no big voice duets for him. He and Bernice Claire had performed together on stage prior to arriving in Hollywood, so First National (home to such wonderful early musicals) brought Bernice along with Alexander.  

Cute as a button

Their first film appearance together was in the extremely popular "No No Nannette" (1930). Sadly, this movie, filmed entirely in Technicolor, is lost, except for an incomplete black and white version that exists at the British Film Institute National Archive. 

Here they are with another number from "Spring is Here."

For a hot moment, musical were all the rage in 1929 and 1930 - until they weren't. Audiences turned on them in an almost vicious way and songs in already filmed movies were suddenly cut before they were released to the public. Take, for instance, 1930's "Top Speed," starring Bernice along with Joe E. Brown. Aside from being a really racy pre-code, there are moments when a set up to a song is begun, a little music plays and then the film abruptly and awkwardly cuts away to another scene. 

Bernice gets second billing, but since most of her songs
 were cut, she is almost the secondary love interest.

"Top Speed" is actually an interesting little film. While I do not appreciate the big mouth shtick of Joe E. Brown, I am always surprised at his innate musicality (his dance with Marilyn Miller in "Sally" was quite appealing).  Also, the film starred a fellow by the name of Jack Whiting, who was entirely new to me.

Jack Whiting woos Bernice Claire in "Top Speed."

Now, he wasn't much of a leading man for Bernice, but when I did a little research on him I found that he was the last husband of the first Mrs. Douglas Fairbanks, Beth Sully. Of course, I had read how Doug's mad love affair with Mary Pickford wrecked his marriage to Beth, and she was always portrayed as the poor gal who stood in between the future king and queen of Hollywood. I was happy to learn that she and Mr. Whiting had a long and happy marriage.

Here she is in "Kiss Me Again" (1931), singing a song she was often requested to perform, but which barely survived all musical cuts from the film.

Bernice Claire made exactly 13 films from 1930 to 1938. She then concentrated on radio and stage performances, so for her, movies were just a brief interlude in her career. One of the reasons I love those early, goofy musicals is that it gives us a chance to see popular stage performers of the era. In those early days, studios imported established musical performers for those films. Because of them, we get to see performers like Bernice Claire and Alexander Gray, Fannie Brice and Marilyn Miller, just to name a few. Not all of them made the grade in Hollywood and their stars dimmed long ago, but thanks to film (at least the ones that have survived) we are blessed with the opportunity to see them.  

High Noon: The Cowards Among us

 So, this is what happened the other day. 

Alone

For some strange reason, the theme song from "High Noon," the 1952 western, invaded my brain. Now, you should know that I am not a western fan by any stretch and this song is never one that is on my playlist. Still, it persisted, first in the shower and later over coffee. 

Now, normally I would push it out as best I could and go on about my day. But this time I decided to listen. Maybe the universe was telling me to watch that movie. And so I did. And so I was  - what - blown away? Impressed? Kind of shattered and overwhelmed with the love of the power of film.

She stands by her man

Like I say - I'm not a big western fan, but "High Noon" is a morality parable disguised as a western. I think I know that is the case with many westerns, but I really don't like to see horses fall down, so....

Anyway, back to "High Noon." Somewhere in the recesses of my movie brain, I knew this story was a commentary on the 1950s blacklisting of writers with supposed communist ties. 

The general consensus of the town is for Kane to cut and run

And, truth be told, I am not a big fan of the older Gary Cooper. The ick factor of "Love in the Afternoon" still lingers for me. But it is his weariness that comes with age that makes him so perfect for the role of Will Kane. I read that John Wayne was the original choice for the role and that he turned it down because he disagreed with the overt politics of the story. Thank goodness he did. I doubt Wayne would have conveyed the honest desire to retire and ride off to open a store with his new bride (although what man wouldn't be tempted to run off with Grace Kelly?). And just in case you're feeling none to kindly (western influence seeping in here) towards the Duke, he was mighty gracious in accepting Cooper's Oscar for the role.

Beautifully and simply filmed with nail biting suspense as the clock ticks towards high noon and Kane's moment of truth, the question looms - who will stick their neck out for what is right? Who will risk everything for the truth? Who will stand with those who have stood for us? 

What would you do? May we never stop asking the hard questions.

Chaplin's "The Great Dictator" at 80: Dreamers and Doers

This is my entry in the Classic Movie Blog Association's Politics in Film Blogathon. For more examples of how this red hot topic is handled on the silver screen, click here.

Spoiler alert: this is going to get political. Typically, I try (sometimes not always successfully) to keep politics off this site, but since politics is the topic, I'm going all in.

Did Hitler steal Chaplin's mustache?

Chaplin's "The Great Dictator" is 80 years old this month. All these years later, after all of our history that came after, it still stands as a work of passion, of vision, of courage and humanity. And as a lesson that, in so many ways, we have learned so very little while hoping for so much.

For Chaplin's first true and total sound film he made the courageous choice of skewering Hitler, the Nazis, Mussolini and fascism with his 2 greatest tools, humor and humanity. When filming began in September 1939, Hitler had invaded Poland and Great Britain had declared war. Upon the film's release in October 1940, the United States was still at peace with Nazi Germany. Then, as now, the public was sharply divided over America's position on the world stage. Chaplin came firmly down on the side of global humanity, leaving an audience whose country was on the brink of war to view the choice through a moral lens.

Trouble in the ghetto of Tomania

Have you seen this great film? You should. Really. Briefly, Chaplin plays 2 parts: that of a WWI veteran Jewish barber who, as a result of a war explosion, lost his memory, and his exact double, dictator Adenoid Hynkel, the dear Phooey of Tomania, who looks so very much like Adolph Hitler, the dear Fuhrer of Germany. (Chaplin's hilarity with Hitler would be repeated - brilliantly - decades later by Mel Brooks in "The Producers." )

Chaplin as Adenoid Hynkel. The infamous swastika
is now the sign of the double cross in Tomania.

Chaplin has a lot of fun mangling and ridiculing Hynkel's henchmen. The Goebbels character, the Secretary of Propaganda, is called Garbitsch. Goring becomes Herring, and most memorable of all, Mussolini becomes Benzino Napoloni, Dictator of Bacteria, brilliantly played by Jack Oakie.

Jack Oakie as Napolini. Remind you of anyone?

The power-mad Hynkel has only one dream: to rule the world.

Conversely, the little Barber is a kind and gentle soul. Despite the persecution he and his fellow Jews suffer in the ghetto, he does get to enjoy a love affair with Hannah, his beautiful and spirited comrade in arms played by Chaplin's then-wife, Paulette Goddard.

Hannah and the Barber on the run from persecution

As the Barber, Chaplin even gets to update an old barber shop joke (deleted from the final version of his 1919 short film, "Sunnyside") with one-time Keystone co-star, Chester Conklin. Chaplin, like so many great comedians, was always ready to recycle a good joke.

The Barber is not exactly The Little Tramp, but he retains so much of him that the character becomes a gentle farewell to an iconic character. The Tramp could not really live in a world of sound, nor should he have had to live in a world of fear and hatred.

While there are many moments of humor, the actual story is quite terrifying and sadly prescient. The barber is saved from hanging and death in a concentration camp by the disgraced Commander Schultz, who, in gratitude to the Barber for saving his life so many years ago, refuses to kill him and defies Hynkel's orders. A series of events lead to the Barber having to stand in for Hynkel, who was mistaken for the Jewish Barber and hauled off to a concentration camp by the authorities (karma!). The Barber must speak to the people of Tomania, and, through he has never spoken to so many in such a public way, he finds his voice:

Chaplin added this speech* after Hitler had invaded France.

Today, we are hearing this speech more and more. It has been part of a Lavazza Coffee commercial called "Good Morning Humanity," and it has been popping up all over the internet. 

For those who always insist on getting in the pointless Keaton vs. Chaplin debate, or give the knee-jerk reaction to Chaplin of "he liked young girls," I say this to you: Chaplin was a human being, a man of flaws and foibles. But he had a gift, and, at a terrible time in human history, he chose to go all in on a message of hope and humanity and to firmly and bravely come down on the side of right. Like most artists, he was a dreamer. But, by using his voice in such a powerful way, he was also a doer.

Be a dreamer. Be a doer. Vote.

* Here is the full text of Chaplin's speech at the end of "The Great Dictator."

We all want to help one another, human beings are like that.

We want to live by each other's happiness.

Not by each other's misery.

We don't want to hate and despise one another.

 

And this world has room for everyone,

and the good Earth is rich can provide for everyone.

You have the love of humanity in your hearts.

You, the people, have the power to make this life free and beautiful,

to make this life a wonderful adventure.

Let us fight for a new world - a decent world that will give men a chance to work -

that will give youth a future and old age a security.

Let us fight to free the world - to do away with national barriers -

to do away with greed, with hate and intolerance.

Let us fight for a world of reason, a world where science and progress will lead to all men's happiness.

 

Let us all unite!

Then and Now: If Walls Could Talk

Have you ever walked into an old house and wondered about the stories the walls could tell if they could talk? Or imagine the tales the trees in a forest could spin we spoke their language? Or, better yet, the locations in Hollywood that were silent witnesses to genius?

In my previous post I challenged myself to keep my eye out for Chaplin sightings and...voila! John Bengston of silentlocations.com has created this amazing video of this very unassuming little Hollywood alley. Take a look: 

Not just Chaplin's "The Kid," not just Keaton's "Cops," but Lloyd's "Safety Last"! Oh, if only that little alley could talk.

And just for some added fun, imagine if the ground could tell you about this wild car chase!

Well, here's a then-and-now of almost every shot of his amazing ride:

https://silentlocations.com/2017/12/29/the-never-give-a-sucker-an-even-break-car-chase-part-1/

https://silentlocations.com/2018/01/20/the-never-give-a-sucker-an-even-break-car-chase-part-2/

Thank you, John, for this fascinating look at Hollywood history that is still there if you know where to look.

Charlie Chaplin Sightings....Will You Join Me?

 So, here's the thing. I am endlessly fascinated with and amazed by Charlie Chaplin.

For all you Buster folks, this is not a comparison. I really love Buster, too. What amazes me about Charlie (we are on a first name basis, just so you know), is how he remains relevant even 100 years after his first film.

I have been casually amazed at 1) how enduring his image is, and 2) how his face or his words or some subtle reference to him sneaks into our every day life if we pay attention. This growing awareness has been rattling around my brain for a while now (okay, for years now), but this latest commercial by, of all things, Lavazza Coffee, made me think that I had better start paying attention.

His remarkable words from 1940's "The Great Dictator" are as relevant and true as they were then, and his remarkable life and work has never faded from our collective consciousness. Ask a young person to look at his image and see if they can identify them. Chances are, they can, even if they have never seen a snipet of his films. I tried this little experiment the other day on a younger friend of mine and she answered without hesitation that it was Charlie, admitting that she had never seem a complete Chaplin film. 

So, I was thinking of embarking on a little experiment - looking for clues of Chaplin in my daily life in ways great and small. It could be a quote, an image, a subtle reference... all to remind me of the endless well of brilliance and deep feeling he had for humanity and how mysteriously prevalent he remains after so many decades. I'm starting (and hoping to maintain) a weekly journal. If you have any Charlie sightings in every day real life, please feel free to share them with my Facebook group (FlickChick's Movie Playground) and I will include them on my Sunday roundup of Chaplin sightings right here. I have a tendency to poop out on these things, so any extra nudges are always appreciated! 

Street art spied in France

And now, I'm keeping my eyes and ears open for signs from the Master!

Book Review: Martin Turnbull's "The Heart of the Lion": The Room Where it (Really) Happened

Hey movie lover - haven't you often heard behind the scenes conversations in your head? You know, the ones between Clark Gable and Carole Lombard? Or Garbo and Gilbert? Or maybe, just maybe, Irving Thalberg and Norma Shearer? Or better  yet, all those mop up men at the Harlow home discussing how to handle Paul Bern's death while he lay there cold as a cucumber? Well, imagine no more, because author Martin Turnbull takes you to all of those rooms where it all really happened (the rooms we really care about) in "The Heart of the Lion," his new novel about the MGM Boy Wonder, Irving Thalberg.

Anyone who is anyone makes an appearance in Turnbull's fictional telling of Thalberg's final years. Lillian Gish nurses a sidecar* at a Hollywood party, Douglas Fairbanks Sr. complains about Mary Pickford, foreshadowing the end of a fairy tale union, and Garbo is a sly minx who never has her head in the clouds. But the central stars of this tale are Louis B. Mayer, the crude but knowing head of the great studio, John Gilbert, the fading silent star who was one half of an unlikely friendship, and Norma Shearer, the determined star whose gentle love and patience brought great happiness to her boss, who also happened to be her husband.

The wedding. Irving's mom wasn't too happy, but Norma got her man

"The Heart of the Lion," covers the years 1925 though 1936, the year of Thalberg's death at age 37. A frail and sickly child, raised in fear by an over-protective and over-bearing mother, Thalberg's health was always precarious. The fact that he was not expected to live past the age of 30 was drummed into him as a child. Turnbull presents a young man who, believing himself to be living on borrowed time, feels compelled to achieve, achieve, and achieve. And achieve he did. You can almost hear the tick tick tick of time running out in Turnbull's prose, as Thalberg tries valiantly to grab the most life has to offer while all the while knowing that the shadow of death lurked nearby.

Turnbull paints a vivid picture of Hollywood in the 20s and 30s, the time when silent stars were gods, sound and the Great Depression shattered their west coast Mount Olympus and the subsequent rebuilding of MGM into a new kingdom that boasted more stars than there were in heaven. The sad demise of John Gilbert, Thalberg's great friend, is handled as a fate inevitable as it is heartbreaking. On the other hand, Joan Crawford is a brassy hoot and Harlow is a sassy charmer. It's great to spend time with them. However, the most important moments are reserved for those between Thalberg and Mayer, his feckless father figure who threw him over for son-in-law David O. Selznick, and Norma Shearer. The imagined scenes between Thalberg and Norma are beautifully done, with their intimate conversation at Carole Lombard's Mayfair Ball bringing a tear to my eye.

Oh yes she did! Norma (pictured here with David Niven, Merle Oberon
and Thalberg) did a Jezebel and wore red to
Carole Lombard's white-gown-only-please Mayfair Ball

For the record, this is a fictional biography, a novel, but the research is impeccable. Trust me: I consider myself a great repository of useless Hollywood history and detail and a few times I thought - aha! I spy a mistake! - only to find out I was wrong and Martin Turnbull was right. 

Irving and Norma: Happy

Thalberg's name never once appeared on screen as a film's producer, but as MGM's Head of Production from 1925 until his death, his was the unseen hand that built a dreamland that endures in the heart of every classic movie lover to this day. Leo the Lion might have been the face and the roar of the great studio, but Thalberg was its beating heart, a heart that was filled with love for the movies and one that was taken from the world much too soon.

You can purchase "The Heart of the Lion," as well as Turbull's Garden of Allah novels Here

*Since Lillian Gish is downing a sidecar at a prohibition era Hollywood party, she might just have been sipping it primly from a teacup, don't you think?

Sidecar Cocktail recipe

1.5 oz Dudognon Cognac
1 oz Cointreau
.5 oz Lemon juice
Lemon twist

Shake over ice and strain into a cocktail glass, garnishing with the twist.