The conundrum of the long movie title

Despite having a MOST IMPRESSIVE psychology minor indicated on my college diploma, I don't pretend to understand the mysteries of the human mind. But after a year and a half working at a video store and countless conversations with people of all stripes, I can claim some insight into the way the average brain remembers movie titles.

This may seem like insignificant nonsense to you - after all, how hard is it to remember movie titles? Take some recent Best Picture nominees, for instance - Inception, Black Swan, The King's Speech. What's so hard about that? On the whole, movie titles are pretty straightforward, and what they lack in everyday language (i.e. Inception) they usually make up for with brevity.

But occasionally you'll see a film with an unusual or long titles, particularly among indies. That's fine, and I'm all for artistic individuality, but it's very possible that that naming choice could cost the film its audience.

How?

From working at the video store, I learned that the average consumer (and I'm excluding movie nerds here) can remember about 2-3 words of a movie title. That's why most movie titles aren't longer than that. If they are, the extra words get cut from their recollection. For instance, the Kevin James and Adam Sandler laff riot I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry was shortened in the collective memory of our customers to just Chuck and Larry. We actually had to re-file it under "C" because no one could find it under "I." People were also much more likely to remember a unique word in a title, i.e. "Prada" in The Devil Wears Prada. If all they could ask for was "you know, the Prada something" then the process of elimination was pretty simple. Occasionally, you'd even get someone who could remember the approximate grammatical or thematic structure of a longer title, but nothing else. I once spent nearly half an hour with a man who kept insisting he wanted the Jodie Foster movie The Last House on the Left despite the clear absence of Ms. Foster on that film's IMDb page, until I finally pieced together that he was actually talking about The Little Girl Who Lives Down the Lane.

Now that video stores are all but gone from the typical consumer's lifestyle, the importance of remembering titles increases significantly. If the aforementioned man had been searching for that movie on Netflix, he probably would have hit a brick wall since the two titles don't have any words in common except "the." Of course, he could have just searched the filmography of Jodie Foster, but I'd have a whole lot of nickels if I got one for every time someone would swear on their dead mother's grave that a movie had Jodie Foster only to later admit sheepishly "although y'know, I guess it MIGHT have been Meryl Streep..."

So this brings us to the film 45365. The number refers to the zip code for Sidney, Ohio, which is the town depicted in this slice-of-life documentary. It's kind of a cool idea for a title, and I'm behind it conceptually. But I can't help but feel that the directors and producers just shot themselves in the foot. No one is going to remember a movie title that's just a sequence of five numbers, even a devoted cinephile. Maybe an interested viewer will remember that the title is a zip code, and go back and try to find that article where they first heard about it, but are unable to find the article. They'll Google "ohio zip code movie," as I did when trying to recall its title for this post, and won't find anything relevant. Only when you search "ohio zip code DOCUMENTARY" do you get what you're looking for, but perhaps the mildly interested viewer has already given up. A potential viewer lost on a technicality.

Here's another: the recent Sundance hit Martha Marcy May Marlene. The average person will probably remember that the title contains a series of names starting with "M." That alone could probably find you what you want with the help of a video store employee, but Netflix won't be so understanding. You'll have to remember at least one of the names, and in all likelihood you'll probably figure that one of them is "Mary." Or "Maggie." Or you might misremember Marlene as "Maureen." If you can't get at least one word correct, then you're out of luck and once again the film has lost a viewer.

Long titles don't always present this problem. For example, The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford has two things going for it that people would probably remember: the mention of an identifiable figure (Jesse James, or Robert Ford if you know your history), and the fact that it stars Brad Pitt. That's why longer titles hit indies harder, because people can't look them up by star.

So, again, I'm all for artistic freedom and integrity. I just sometimes wonder if filmmakers realize that their titles could cost them viewers, and if that's a tradeoff they're willing to make.

What do you think? Is a consumer's desire to see an oddly-named film hindered by the limits of human memory?

The only Oscar prediction you'll need

Let's keep it simple, people.



Happy Oscar watching! May you win your betting pools!

Movie nerd wall!

I may not be the most gifted or inspired when it comes to interior design, but I'm pretty proud of this. Behold, a newly decorated wall of our new apartment! The images were found almost entirely at Carteles de Cine and printed out on regular paper.

Context-free delight #4

Now that I live in La-La Land, I was lucky enough to catch a program called "Cartoon Noir" at the Silent Movie Theatre, featuring Hollywood cartoons that mock, imitate, or otherwise pay homage to film noir. It was mostly familiar faces (i.e. Daffy and Donald Duck) or otherwise anthropomorphic creatures, but there was one that was unlike any cartoon I'd ever seen. It's a mostly musical cartoon rendition of "Frankie and Johnny," more sexy than silly, complete with unique animation and a credited choreographer (!). It's pretty impossible to describe - just watch it!

Best overlooked and underappreciated performances of 2010

It's that time again...for me to complain about what everyone got wrong! Not really. But I realized that I've developed this now annual tradition because come awards season, I never feel like I have anything terribly compelling to add to the discourse. For as much as people hate on the awards circuit, they get a lot of things right, and at this point I hardly have any worthwhile contributions on the terrific work of Bale, Bening, et al. So instead I'll continue to champion the lesser-known underdogs and point out some of my favorite performances of the year that flew under the radar. Some went completely unnoticed, others got attention but no awards. Once again, I offer my disclaimer that these are not necessarily replacements or alternatives for this year's batch of nominees/winners - just ones I think deserve more love. 

BEST ACTOR

Ben Stiller as the titular Greenberg
Stiller is actually a talented actor when he puts his mind to it, which is basically never. Seemingly content to churn out Night at the Museum and Fockers sequels for the rest of his life, he came out of nowhere to deliver a career-best performance as the neurotic and wholly unlikable Greenberg. The film was a divisive one that raised questions about the need for likability in protagonists, with audiences so dismayed by the character's self-destructive behavior that they were booing and demanding refunds. That's an absurd and limiting viewpoint, and those who could get past it were rewarded by a rich, subtle, and hilarious performance that made the midlife crisis seem fresh again.

Patrick Wilson as Barry Munday
This is one of those films that would be completely forgotten while viewing it if not for the overwhelmingly charismatic performance of its lead. Wilson is an actor I've been championing for years, with bona fide talent to back up his blinding attractiveness. The film is a kookier, darker Knocked Up, with Wilson essentially playing a loser who doesn't identify himself as such and is just trying to make the best of any situation. A wholly lovable lead in a fluff movie...stars have been born from less.

Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark in Iron Man 2
Look, whiners: you know why everybody says that the Iron Man sequel is inferior to the original? Because the element of surprise was gone - the "wait huh Downey is a superhero I thought he was still in rehab and Gwyneth Paltrow is actually kind of sassy and appealing and Favreau is directing the hell out of this whaaaaaa AWESOME!". Instead, they crammed the sequel with enough character development to fill a dozen superhero flicks. I'll steal a line from my boyfriend's review on his blog: that the writers came up with "the great conceit that just because a narcissistic, live-for-the-moment playboy has become a superhero doesn't mean he isn't still narcissistic and unable to confront the real, pressing issues in front of him." We were stunned and delighted when the second-act low point came not from the nefarious plans of an antagonist, but from Tony's own flaws. And even with all this going on, Downey still maintains the sprightliness of Cary Grant. (And for those who complained that Iron Man outshone the villains, isn't that a good thing? Didn't you complain that the villains in The Dark Knight snatched the rug out from under Batman? No pleasing you people.)

Michael Douglas as Ben Kalmen in Solitary Man
The two things that Michael Douglas got attention for this year were throat cancer and his revival of the Gordon Gekko role, respectively. Less conspicuous, then, was his terrific work in this little indie, which is hardly original but boasts a great cast giving it their all. As the solitary man himself, Douglas spends nearly the whole film's running time digging himself deeper into a hole (he starts out pretty deep already) and making bad, self-destructive decisions. His interactions with supporting players like Jesse Eisenberg, Susan Sarandon, and Imogen Poots enrich the character and make you remember why everyone likes him as an actor. He puts up a solid struggle against the audience's sympathy, but wins it anyway.

Jim Carrey as Steven Russell in I Love You, Philip Morris
I'm so glad that this film finally debuted stateside after over a year of delays - it's hilarious, outrageous and even rather sweet. You get kind of immune to the phrase "based on the incredible true story" after it's abused by very believable movies about underdog sports teams, but trust me when I say this is one of the most unbelievable stories I have ever seen. It concerns the affairs, escapades and numerous jailbreaks of a gay con man played adroitly by Carrey, channeling his typical comedic elasticity into his portrayal of this glib genius (Russell has a rumored IQ of 163). Carrey can really knock it out of the park when he's not just phoning it in for paychecks, and here he's found a role that seems positively written for him.


BEST ACTRESS

Greta Gerwig as Florence in Greenberg
I haven't extensively explored the oft-maligned "mumblecore" genre, but if history relegates it to nothing more than a training ground for talents like Gerwig, that'll still be a pretty good legacy. Much as her costar Stiller breathes new life into the midlife crisis-ing male archetype, Gerwig rejuvenates the manic pixie dream girl as a figure with her own concerns and dreams. Sure, she helps shake Greenberg out of his funk, but she's pretty damaged herself (although thankfully, not from excessively dramatic life circumstances but rather just the typical pitfalls of the aimless soul). Plus, she's got great comedic timing.

Emma Stone as Olive in Easy A
I was skeptical when I first saw advertising for this film, seeing nothing to differentiate it from other nondescript high school comedies. But following the trail of good reviews it received, I saw it in theaters and was pleasantly surprised. My boyfriend said that the resonance and success of similar movies comes from having a protagonist that the audience wants to be. I guess I never quite clicked with the Brat Pack films because the characters were too one-dimensional to be relatable - I mean, Ferris Bueller is cool, but in the cartoony way that Bugs Bunny is. Olive, on the other hand, is incredibly smart and witty (without being a nerd stereotype), has a great relationship with her awesome family, and doesn't need any kind of "makeover" from the film except to boost her own self-respect. Stone plays the character with a great, fresh energy that should rightly propel her into the ranks of leading lady.

Noomi Rapace as Lisbeth Salander in The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo (I haven't seen the other two)
Rapace's performance(s) was hardly overlooked in the traditional sense - it won her a slew of awards in Sweden, sent Hollywood scrambling after her and inspired an American remake of the first film. Yet come awards time, everyone was curiously silent. I'm sure it doesn't help that the films themselves are not Typical Oscar Material, and they're foreign-language ones to boot. But that's a shame, because Rapace burst through the narrow mold of femininity that American films pull from and presented a fierce, brilliant, aggressive, and unusual-looking woman constantly fighting to stay afloat. The "tattoo" scene (not pertaining to the dragon tattoo, but I'll leave it at that), among others, is one of the most dynamite of the year, but I know that due to ratings restrictions the remake is going to have to be a lot tamer. So kudos to Sweden, for letting their actresses "go there."


BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR

Paul Rudd as George in How Do You Know
This movie isn't all that good, but it's not the train wreck some critics are making it out to be - I think it would be an ideal movie to watch on a plane, for instance. But Rudd continues his decades-long streak as one of Hollywood's most affable second bananas, bringing charm and even a dash of pathos to a movie that hardly deserves him. I've been a huge fan of Rudd for years - sure, he's no Brando, but he can really light up a room. And he really makes the tepid dialogue dance - the Play-Doh scene, for example, would probably have just fallen apart in someone else's hands.

Harrison Ford as Mike Pomeroy in Morning Glory
It's almost hard to believe that the charismatic Han Solo of the Star Wars trilogy is the same person who's been sulking through bland thrillers for years now. His attempts to play grim-faced determination have just come off as cranky. But romantic comedy director Roger Michell, of all people, seems to have figured out what to do with the 21st-century Ford: poke fun at his grouchiness. Ford plays a once-great news anchor reluctantly roped into hosting a morning show, and displays surprisingly adept comic skills in mocking his recent screen persona. He evens brings back some of that old charm to serve as the linchpin in the surprisingly sweet finale.

Justin Timberlake as Sean Parker in The Social Network - Frankly, I'm surprised that the awards-givers aren't all over this...a singer in a flashy supporting role? Jennifer Hudson, anyone? Timberlake clearly has a blast gnawing on Aaron Sorkin's delicious dialogue and playing a pretty outrageous true-life figure, proving equally adept when Parker starts to break down near the end. The only real indication of his acting prowess prior to this film was his lamentably infrequent appearances on SNL, but here he proves that he could pursue this path if he so desired. 


BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS

Olivia Williams as Ruth Lang in The Ghost Writer
Making it onto my list for the second year in a row is the consistently wonderful Williams. To call her a bright spot in this amiable but unexceptional thriller is an understatement; she's nothing short of a supernova. Ruth is a woman of contradictions: confident but jealous, straightforward but secretive. At first she just seems like another stereotypical political wife, but Williams is great at peeling back the layers to show how complicated and dynamic the character really is.

Michelle Williams as Dolores in Shutter Island
It's already hard to discuss a twisty film like this in much detail and keep things spoiler-free, so praising Williams' brief but crucial screen time is nearly impossible. I can tell you that she plays the main character's deceased wife and is seen only in flashback - and that's about it. Just watch it already...as if you need another reason to see this fantastic and underrated film.

Jemima Kirke as Charlotte in Tiny Furniture
The film itself is pretty insufferable - it starts as a spot-on satire of New York cliches, but then goes down in flames when it tries to make you care about its one-dimensional, poorly acted characters. It's a cast of "non-actors," which I don't mind as long as they're watchable, but everyone on screen seems uncomfortable and downright...itchy. The lone bright spot in this mess is perfectly calibrated Kirke, who nails her every punchline like a pro while everyone around her trips over theirs. She plays a daffy, ditzy sidekick whose earnestness and good intentions leave the audience no choice but to love her.

Chloe Moretz as Hit-Girl in Kick-Ass
It's a shame that so many audience members couldn't get past the fact that an 11-year-old girl was saying "the C word," because that's really unfair to the immense skill that Moretz displays here. Her physical performance alone is staggering - my understanding is that she did a fair share of her own stunts, and over the course of the film she takes out at least a football team's worth of grown men. Her performance is hardly subtle - it's demented pop art, and it's all the more impressive that someone of her precocious age can work on that wavelength.


SPECIAL MENTIONS

Ensemble Award: Scott Pilgrim vs. The World
The awards circuit has been honoring films like The Town, The Social Network and The Fighter for their ensembles, and while all those films have terrific casts, each of them still rests primarily on just a few characters. Scott Pilgrim presents a different type of ensemble, which became clear when I tried to single out some of its performances for special mention - and couldn't. This thing is a well-oiled machine, with each cog seeking no greater glory than the make the film as a whole run. It's cast to perfection, down to the tiniest part - I lamented afterwards that I wanted it to be longer, just to afford all of these great talents more screen time. Names like Anna Kendrick (fresh off an Oscar nomination) and Chris Evans (our future Captain America) show up for mere minutes, and the film is better for it.

Dynamic Duo: Stanley Tucci and Patricia Clarkson in Easy A
At first I was going to honor Tucci and Clarkson separately in the respective his and hers categories, but I realized that that would be missing the point. As the lovable dropped-a-bit-too-much-acid-in-the-60s parents of high schooler Olive, they have an energy and chemistry that makes it seem like they've been married for years (it probably helps that they also played a couple in 2007's Blind Date). The power of their performances hangs in the air between them. How come it really took this long to have parents in a teen movie that are ridiculously sweet, supportive, and hilarious?

So there you have it. What are your favorite overlooked/underappreciated performances of the year?

A little tidbit while you wait...

Apologies for the hiatus...but in the time since my last post I've moved from Portland to Los Angeles! This whole business of moving is rather time consuming, so I hope you'll forgive me. A mega-post is forthcoming, but in the meantime, I thought I should let you know that this exists (photo taken at the California Science Center)

My movie-related resolutions

Let me preface this by saying that I don't believe in New Year's resolutions. They're doomed to fail because you're picking an essentially arbitrary date to change something in your life. If you have not been able to make that thing happen previously due to any combination of guilt, rewards, punishment or ambition, then a day on a calendar isn't going to do jack. So really, the following are just movie-related goals that, due to the year being nearly over, I will almost certainly accomplish next year.  

- I need to see The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly. I have no excuse. My boyfriend owns it, even. I realize that not having done so makes me a wretched human being unfit to interact with most of society. But I want to make amends! Let's set this right!

- I would like to continue my exploration of Westerns, a genre I had previously avoided whether intentionally or not. I've made good progress this year, seeing essentials like Stagecoach, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, Once Upon a Time in the West, Red River and Unforgiven. With those down, I have more room to "play" and explore lesser-known Westerns that appeal to me. Shane and The Wild Bunch still loom over me unseen, though.

- I'm afraid I've been rather Eurocentric in my exploration of foreign films, but this year I dipped my toes into Kurosawa and knocked out some of the biggies (Seven Samurai, Ikiru, Ran). Ikiru didn't really work for me, but it encouraged me to seek out more Kurosawa with a modern setting, so I'm going to make Stray Dog, Drunken Angel, The Bad Sleep Well and High and Low priorities in 2011. Also Ugetsu - not a Kurosawa but an Asian classic I need to see.

- This year, for the first time in my life, I achived the dream of getting Turner Classic Movies. It's been fantastic. However, since it was a prized commodity that we would have for a potentially limited time, it took priority over other ways of viewing films - notably Netflix Instant. I want to make more use of that feature in the coming year (which shouldn't be difficult, since they're trying to switch to an all-streaming format) because they have all kinds of great stuff. That said, we'll probably get TCM again at the first possible opportunity!

- I need to see Tootsie and Harold and Maude. Progress has been slow in this arena because my boyfriend doesn't want to see these films but feels that he must, and somehow responsibility for making this happen fell on me. He said I need that I hold him hostage and use all kinds of bullying and threats to force him to watch them (and I can't watch them by myself because then he'll NEVER see them). Needless to say, that's not a very appealing proposition, so we've hit a stalemate. Hopefully there is a peaceful resolution to this in the future. (LOVE YOU BABE!)

- As detailed in a couple of earlier posts, I have been working on seeing all the films that everyone but me saw in their youth. I've made good progress this year, but Raiders of the Lost Ark (well, all Indiana Jones movies) and Return of the Jedi still elude me.

- I've missed going to repertory screenings this year, since I lived in a city that had very few of them (Portland, OR). But after my move to the City of Angels in the new year, I plan to absolutely gorge myself on the repertory scene!

- My movie-watching guide is an ever-expanding Google Doc of several hundred titles I've collected over the years that I want to see. Its primary purpose is making sure I don't forget about any of them, but as an unfortunate byproduct I sometimes feel stressed that I'll never get to them all. This need to catch up on numerous decades of cinema history often pushes any desire to rewatch a film to the back burner, and consequently I'm pretty much a single-viewing gal. So in 2011, I will try to discover and indulge in the joys of the multiple viewing. (Is it a step forward or backward that a section of my list is "films to rewatch?")

What are your movie-related resolutions?

I'm goin' Hollywood!

I've given my notice at work, so now I can share the news without fear of it leaking - I'm moving to Los Angeles! I always swore I never would, but over time I was convinced that the normal people living there outnumbered the tanorexic Barbies and that there's a richer culture than there appears to be. This will be the fourth state I've lived in since August 2009 - I didn't plan on being so nomadic, but that's just how it worked out. I'm sure this will lend my posts an air of glamour, and I'll be reporting on my close friendships with the stars by about...a week after moving, would you say?

Cinematic rainbow!

Meme alert! A cinematic rainbow for a gloomy winter day! (As always, I have seen and can recommend all of these).

Red River (1948)
    A Clockwork Orange (1971)
        Golddiggers of 1933 (1933)
            The Night of the Hunter* (1955)
                The Moon is Blue (1953)
                    The Purple Rose of Cairo (1985)
                        Grey Gardens (1975)
                            Black Narcissus (1947)
                                The White Ribbon (2009)

* Hunter is totally a shade of green, you guys. What? The Green Hornet and The Green Lantern don't come out til next year. JUST LET ME HAVE MY RAINBOW, DAMMIT.

Favorite dance films

I absolutely love the art of dance. From the time I could walk, I was twirling and leaping. I had a brief stint of little-girl ballet, and then took up the discipline seriously at age 11 and continued through high school. Tough auditions and a lack of non-competitive opportunities at college forced me out of the sport, though I remained an ardent spectator. But dance shows are expensive, so when the art form is captured on celluloid I'm in hog heaven. In anticipation of the impending release of Darren Aronofsky's ballet horror freak-out Black Swan and in honor of the fact that dance just roolz, here are some of my favorite dance-themed or dance-centric films. To make things interesting, I'm going to assume that anyone remotely interested in this post has seen the "obvious" choices here (i.e. Singin' in the Rain, The Red Shoes, Fred and Ginger musicals). I have divided my picks into three somewhat ill-defined categories for your convenience.

The Biz - what it takes to be a pro

Limelight (1952) - People often forget that Charlie Chaplin had a career post-1940, and while it was hardly prolific he did produce a couple more gems, including this bittersweet showbiz story. Echoing A Star Is Born, it chronicles the friendship between a ballerina on the rise (Claire Bloom) and a vaudeville star on the decline (Chaplin). The final scene at the theater will have you reaching for the tissues, but also laughing - it's the only onscreen pairing of Chaplin and Buster Keaton.

The Band Wagon (1953) - Do you love film noir and musicals? Well, I have got news for you! It's not a film noir musical (though at least one exists for the stage), but rather the glorious "Girl Hunt Ballet" that serves as the big number in this film. Fred Astaire and Cyd Charisse slink through a 12-minute tour-de-force surrounded by trenchcoats, gats, and impossibly versatile sets. Aside from that, though, the film offers many other delights, such as the self-conscious mockery of Astaire's failing career, a zippy script by the crack team of Betty Comden and Adolph Green (perhaps you're familiar with their work on a certain Singin' in the Rain?) and the leads' lovely pas-de-deux in the park.

The Turning Point (1977) - This film is now remembered mostly as a bit of Oscar trivia - it's tied with The Color Purple (1985) for the greatest amount of nominations (11) without any wins. That's a shame, because it's actually quite good and a real treat for dance fans. You have Anne Bancroft and Shirley MacLaine turning in incredible performances as former rival ballerinas - their scenes together are an absolute feast for anyone who loves great actresses. You have dancer Leslie Browne as MacLaine's daughter, showcasing her wonderful talent. And you have Baryshnikov! Most of all, though, it's a thoughtful look at the inherent tragedy of an industry that pushes its stars into retirement at a relatively young age.

All That Jazz (1979) - There aren't a lot of death-obsessed musical auto-biopics out there, so I think it's pretty safe to say that this one reigns supreme. Director/choreographer Bob Fosse gives the audience a look at his troubled but incredibly fruitful life, from popping pills to creating masterpieces to sharing tender moments with his daughter. A lot of the dancing is incidental and casual, but there are two show-stopping numbers - a vaguely airplane-themed bit where the dancers are almost naked, and the final showdown with death that features women dressed as...aortas, I guess? Roy Scheider is terrific in the lead role, but you'll notice that he manages to avoid any real dancing himself!

Center Stage (2000) - Okay, full disclosure: I am in no position to objectively discuss this film's merit (or lack thereof, as the case may be). It came out around the time that I started dancing myself, and became inextricably intertwined with that part of my life. Everyone in dance class knew all the lines and quoted them frequently, and my ballet teacher borrowed liberally from its moves on more than one occasion. With the exception of Zoe Saldana (and bless her multi-talented soul), the dancers of the film are played by real dancers - aka not actors - so you're not exactly gonna find the next Brando here. But despite the uneven acting and the ludicrous and melodramatic plot, it always stays fun and funny - whether intentionally or unintentionally. And the dancing is fantastic and plentiful - from ballet to salsa to the knockout final number with a little bit of everything (including simulated dance sex!)

Talk to Her (2002) - You shouldn't need another reason to see Almodovar's universally acclaimed masterpiece, but for dance nuts it might interest you to know that one of the characters is an aspiring ballerina. It's hardly a focus of the film, but you do get rehearsal scenes, two beautiful and unconventional performances at the ballet, and a choreographer played by the inimitable Geraldine Chaplin (yes, daughter of Charlie).

I Just Wanna Dance! - dancing for funsies or narratively ignored reasons

The musicals of Stanley Donen that don't end in "Rain" (1949-1958) - While director Donen will probably be mostly remembered (dude's still alive!) for Singin' in the Rain, his other musicals deserve attention and praise too - and the man knows how to stage a dance number. I've previously expressed my affection for On The Town (1949), which in my opinion is nipping at SitR's heels in terms of quality and, like its more famous cousin, features an elaborate fantasy ballet conceived and executed by Gene Kelly (plus Ann Miller's incomparable tap dancing!). Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (1954) needs a boatload of charm to compensate for the fact that it essentially endorses kidnapping as a dating technique, and it delivers in spades with the mind-boggling "barn-raising" number. Funny Face (1957) teams Audrey Hepburn and Fred Astaire for a fun romp that features dancing of both the dreamily classical and brashly modern variety. And The Pajama Game (1957) boasts not only Doris Day, but the sultry "Steam Heat" and absolutely bonkers "Once-a-Year Day" sequences. I still haven't seen all of Donen's musicals, but I'm inclined to say that you can't really go wrong.

My Sister Eileen (1955 - not to be confused with the 1942 non-musical version) - I found myself pleasantly surprised when I recorded this on TCM earlier this year. Janet Leigh and Rosalind Russell star as sisters coming to New York to make it big, and while that setup has been exploited infinite times this incarnation is fresh, funny, and sweet. On hand to play their paramours are a young Jack Lemmon and a young Bob Fosse, who also provides choreography and dances a springy, effortless interlude. But if that's too highbrow for you, there's also a huge conga line at the end.

The Young Girls of Rochefort (1967) - It would appear that director Jacques Demy appropriated my fantasy of life being a happy dancey musical, went back in time, and made it a film. In this candy-colored wonderland, people dance through the streets and sing their feelings, and besides the radiant Catherine Deneuve we also have none other than Gene Kelly himself (speaking fluent French and still moving marvelously at age 55!). The songs are infectious and while the dancing by the leads is rather light, Demy packs the Rochefort town square full of extras to pull of some big numbers.

Sweet Charity (1969) - It always comes back to Fosse. Bob directed this adaptation of Fellini's Nights of Cabiria, starring Shirley MacLaine as the titular girl who just wants to be loved. MacLaine, trained as a dancer, is a joy as always, as are the quintessentially Fosse "Rich Man's Frug" number and the awesome psychadelic "Rhythm of Life" with Sammy Davis Jr.

Forever Fever aka That's the Way I Like It (1998) - Okay, tough guy who's been smirking through this post thinking all my choices are obvious, I raise you this DISCO MOVIE FROM SINGAPORE! I watched it in an Asian Cinema class, and although it might have just been due to relief that it wasn't another morbid or disturbing film like everything else in that class, it was a real crowd pleaser. It's a quasi-adaptation of Saturday Night Fever, in which John Travolta's character from that film steps out of the screen and serves as a disco mentor to dorky Hock. Yeah, it's a bit silly, but it's got killer moves, some serious subplots, and it's always interesting to explore the popular entertainment and culture of a lesser-known country (although the film is in English, one of Singapore's two official languages).

Hairspray (2007) - I'm sure most people are aware of this film...but are they aware of how downright awesome it is? Even though musicals are still being made, most of them are afraid to plunge headfirst into the classical tradition - they'll use pop songs instead of showtunes and create logical reasons for anyone to be singing and dancing. But Hairspray just GOES there. A fantastic ensemble cast shines down to the smallest part, the songs are groovy, the dancing is retro-wonderful and John Travolta in drag isn't quite as disturbing as you'd think. A film about integration on an "American Bandstand"-type show shouldn't be this fun, but I think it would be right at home in MGM's Golden Age.

Non-Narrative/Other

Gene Kelly: Anatomy of a Dancer (2002) - What makes this documentary great is that it not only gives a thorough account of Kelly's life and career, but it really probes his technique and creative process. Despite being a fervent admirer of Kelly for some time, I didn't quite realize how relentlessly innovative he was when it came to dance on screen, and how hard he pushed to integrate dance with the story and emotional arcs of the characters. And of course, it'll have you queueing up his movies like crazy!

Dracula: Pages from a Virgin's Diary (2002) - Ignore the abysmal title that denotes bargain-bin horror - this is actually a silent film adaptation of a ballet adaptation of Dracula directed by Guy Maddin. If that sounds trippy - well, it is. Maddin evokes the look of a highly stylized silent film (but with more cutting) to film this hallucinogenic combination of cinema and ballet (but on sets, not a stage). It's like nothing you've seen before - and I mean that as a compliment.

La danse (2009) - There are two very niche audiences for this minimalistic three-hour documentary about the Paris Opera Ballet - serious dance aficionados (like myself) and those who are endlessly fascinated by watching people practicing their trade (like my boyfriend). There's no interviews, intertitles, or narration - just footage of the company preparing a season of shows and snippets of the resulting performances. It's an unprecedented look inside possibly the best ballet company in the world, and if you've got the stamina for it, it can be a very rich experience.


What are your favorite dance movies?

Black Friday, Harold Lloyd style

As I was watching this scene from Safety Last! (1923), I couldn't help but notice the parallels to Black Friday shopping madness and was reminded why I feel no need to participate. Enjoy!

De-Coding films

I just finished reading the fantastic 1958 novel The Best of Everything by Rona Jaffe. Often cited as a possible progenitor of "Mad Men," it chronicles the hardships and personal entanglements of working girls in 50s Manhattan. It sounds like fluffy chick lit, but instead it's a thoughtful and well-written exploration of how the gender roles and social mores of the time doomed women who strayed from the proper path. I knew before I started reading it that there had been a 1959 film adaptation, but as I read on I started to wonder what small percentage of the novel could be transferred to a 1950s screen.

Yes, folks, the Production Code - everybody's favorite Hollywood censorship doctrine and a subject of personal fascination - was still in full swing. In adapting a story focused primarily on the matters of infidelity, premarital sex, marital dissatisfaction, unwanted pregnancy and subsequent abortion, obsession, and serious critique of a woman's role in mid-century America, what could you preserve? Very little, if the synopses of the film are any indication. It glosses over everything that gives the novel weight - spouses are conveniently removed, the abortion becomes a miscarriage, sex becomes attempted sex, all moral ambiguity is eliminated and at the end of the day, it emphasizes that all women should just be wives and mothers. It's an adaptation of the book only so far as a ransom note comprised of magazine letters is an adaptation of that magazine. True, I haven't seen the film, but there's nothing really motivating me to do so.

Now, unsatisfactory film adaptations happen all the time. But they are the result of deliberate decisions, not mandatory excisions. The film was the way it was because the filmmakers literally had no choice. And that bums me out, because I feel that a faithful adaptation of the book would really be something special. Of course someone could always make another version, perhaps piggybacking on the success of "Mad Men," but the opportunity to tell the full story from the unique vantage point of the era in which it takes place is unfortunately gone.

The degree to which the Code interfered with a film's effectiveness was widely varied. The fact that any of James Cagney's gangsters had to die at the end of the film was an awkward add-on, but didn't change the fact that until that point he could be as gloriously sadistic and violent as he wanted to be. It was still a gangster picture that delivered all the proper thrills of the genre. But with something like The Best of Everything, the fabric of the story is fundamentally altered, and in trying to adapt a bestseller they neutered everything that made it so.

I know it's impossible, but it would be amazing to see a "de-Coded" version of The Best of Everything from its own time. So think hard and share your filmic fantasies: what films would you like to see de-Coded? (Reminder: the Code was in effect from 1934 until a slow death in the mid-60s.) And I realize that you can't miss what you never knew should have been there, so most of these cases of longing will happen in adaptations of some sort.

Unusual endorsements of the classic stars

For as long as celebrities have existed, they've been hawking products to the public. The integration of sponsors into TV or radio programs further blurred the line between advertising and entertainment, so it was quite common to see a top box office star promoting something. Most often it was cigarettes, with beauty and hygiene products a close second. They're glamorous and fun - I have a Chesterfield (cigarette brand) ad with Rita Hayworth hanging on my wall. But in browsing the great site Vintage Ads and Stuff, I came across some odd ducks - famous faces lending themselves to ads for unexpected products, or some ads that are just downright strange. I thought I'd share some of my favorites. If you like what you see, I should note that the thousands of ads seen on the aforementioned website are originals available for sale (mostly at under $5 a pop!). Click any image to enlarge.

Joan Crawford for Fleers Gum - it's kind of hard to read, but it seems like Joan has a personality test to determine if you're a good person, and you should buy gum, and those are unrelated thoughts.

Arlene Francis for The Wallpaper Council (!) - I'm thinking about making "Wallpaper is smart!" my catchphrase.

Zsa Zsa Gabor for Paper-Mate - Sex sells...pens?

Susan Hayward for Sunsweet Prunes - Ms. Hayward is a beguiling young lady with a lovely figure, but despite the claims of the text on this I don't think she maintains it by having a GIANT BOWL OF PRUNES for lunch on set.

Bob Hope for Texaco - Just Old Ski Nose relaxing at home with a cold glass of sponge. And ya know, I never questioned Texaco's competence at doing their job until they placed an ad to convince me...

William Bendix for the American Meat Institute (?!) - "On the air for MEAT!"

Sammy Davis Jr. for Alka-Seltzer - No words.

Joan Blondell for Auto-Lite - Both Joan and Auto-Lite spark plugs have rhythm and perfect performance! That's probably better for Joan than saying that the spark plugs are cheap and easy to use.

A couple of Woody Allen ads for Smirnoff - before Scarlett, before Mia, before Diana, there was Smirnoff.

Documentary subject matter vs. quality

Recently, I saw two of the most buzzed-about documentaries of the year, Waiting for "Superman" and Inside Job. Despite the extremely urgent and pertinent subject matter (education and the financial collapse, respectively) and the universal critical praise, why did I find the net result to be rather underwhelming?

While some might grumble that narrative films about wars or social issues get a lot more love at Oscar time, the disparity becomes jacked up so much in the documentary world that a nonfiction film can coast on its subject alone. In an article over at Cinematical earlier this year, Christopher Campbell notes that despite its worthy topic, he found the documentary Food Inc. to be downright mediocre. He claims that "the majority ignored the problems with its storytelling, editing and narrowness of testimony because they favored the cause," and offered excerpts from critics who were essentially unable to defend the film on its own merits but just kept stressing that people should see it. Despite the opportunities offered by the cinematic medium, he concludes that the film offered nothing beyond the book on which it was based.

Now, I will say that making a documentary about an issue as opposed to a specific person, group or event poses great challenges. Do you include lots of facts and figures? Interviews with experts, the common man, or both? What stance do you take? These questions have no right answers, but with Inside Job and Waiting for "Superman" I can't help but feel that something was wrong about the approach.

WfS must be making serious bank off the guilt of the privileged and insulated, because the chatter in the ladies' room afterwards seemed to indicate certain viewers' lack of awareness of the state of American education. Listen, I don't expect everyone to know the details and statistics, but as far as I'm concerned knowing that education here is awful is as basic as knowing that we went to war with Iraq. But I guess if everyone knew that, not as many people would be finding the film so eye-opening. As a way of demonstrating its point, the film follows a handful of students in different cities in their quest to escape the public school system and get into a private or charter school. I had trouble getting involved in these stories, because of the distance maintained by the constant reminder that the education of these kids isn't what's really at stake, but they're Representative of a Larger Issue.

I also understand a documentary's desire to convey a specific stance, but even with my limited knowledge of the situation I know that nothing on earth is as binary and straightforward as the director, Davis Guggenheim, makes it out to be. Basically, the take-home message is that everything is the fault of the cackling, nefarious cults known as teachers' unions, and we just need to send all kids to charter schools because charter schools are perfect. But how convenient that all the charter schools they feature are excelling, which is not entirely representative of how they're actually faring nationwide. And how convenient that it's entirely the fault of the unions, and has nothing to do with politicians, government, parents, or anyone else. Look, I'm fine with biased documentaries, and if you're Michael Moore you're sure as hell going to leave out any information that hurts your cause. But if a film is urging reform, I think it's actually detrimental to say there's only a single cause and single solution. Why was there no mention, for instance, of Brockton High School, which went from performing dismally to outperforming most of the state by an aggressive implementation of literacy and writing lessons in every class, including gym? There was no government involvement, no unions got their feathers ruffled, it didn't cost a thing, and no personnel was shuffled. Did I mention that this was at a school with 4,100 students? Where's the documentary on that? I suppose that ultimately, this film can be galvanizing and startling to those who genuinely believe that the American education system is peachy. For everyone else, however, it's clunky and simplistic, and its likelihood of winning the Oscar because the voters feel guilty about sending their kids to private school bums me out.

Inside Job, conversely, could never conceivably be described as simplistic - it's a barrage of information that's actually pretty well organized. The problem, though, is that the movie has no exclusive information. Oh sure, there are plenty of interviews, but they don't offer anything new - economists and scholars reemphasize that they predicted the meltdown, and the fat cats squirm in the spotlight and act like nothing happened. All the information is already out there - frequently on the front page - making the film simply a synthesis. That's fine, I guess, but I tend to agree with critic Shawn Levy's assessment that it hasn't "been rendered in a way that's genuinely worth paying contemporary movie ticket prices to learn about." I couldn't help but wondering if it was really more of a TV special, something in the vein of 20/20 perhaps. Had it been produced and aired in that format, it probably would have reached a significantly wider audience. But instead they had Matt Damon narrate it, released it in theaters and cinched a Best Documentary nomination.

Look, I'm always glad when any form of media gets people talking, especially about issues and current events. I just don't think that should be confused with good filmmaking, and if the best-made documentary of the year is actually about a cute kitten with a funny hat, it should be recognized as such. What do you think? Does subject matter trump all? What was your reaction to these films?

Halloween picks for fellow Halloweenies

As I've previously mentioned on this blog, I will happily watch absolutely any genre except super-scary horror. For both scholarly and entertainment reasons I wish I could bear it, but despite a perfect tolerance of violence and suspense my overactive imagination goes into hyperdrive when viewing anything aggressively terrifying. A film like The Shining, The Exorcist or even more recent fare like the Saw films would leave me unable to sleep or function for several weeks. I have refused, however, to let this handicap impede me from enjoying a marathon of spookiness every Halloween, and I thought I'd share some of my favorite discoveries. I feel that movie weenies do not receive adequate support in this arena - any Google search for non-scary Halloween flicks just leads you down a path of family-friendly animated specials. So here's suggestions for my cinephile brethren who enjoy the mysterious and macabre, but don't derive pleasure out of being utterly petrified. (But don't think for a second that these films can't also be enjoyed by non-weenies!)

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) - Oh hello, possible singlehanded launch of German Expressionism and inspiration for Tim Burton's entire career. If you like shadowy, lopsided sets with unusual angles and very unnatural-looking people (and who doesn't?), this one's for you. Full of twists and turns and years ahead of its time, you'd be doing yourself a disservice by skipping out on what some consider the film true horror film. And don't avoid it just because it's a silent film - it's short, sprightly and could give any number of talkies a run for their money.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931) - The story has been filmed countless times, but I can only vouch for this version, which is regarded as (one of) the best. Fredric March is in fine form, winning a deserved Oscar for his dual performance. Miriam Hopkins is also a standout for her work as the prostitute Ivy, and their scenes together are incredibly risqué (gotta love that pre-Code era!). And let's not forget the transformation scenes - instead of taking the easy way out and cutting around it with timid camerawork, director Rouben Mamoulian employed a spinning 360-degree shot where the transformation happens progressively before our very eyes (and kept the mechanics of his technique a secret for decades).

The Old Dark House (1932) - As the title suggests, it's your classic oh-noes-our-car-broke-down-in-the-rain-let's-take-shelter-in-this-foreboding-mansion flick, but with a great  sense of humor and irreverence. The all-star cast includes Charles Laughton, Boris Karloff, Melvyn Douglas and Raymond Massey (among others) as the kooky/creepy residents of the house and its unfortunate but impeccably witty visitors.

The Invisible Man (1933) - Hard to believe, but Claude Rains' breakout role is one in which he's only momentarily visible. This being The Invisible Man, however, Rains is still very much the main character, and he takes viewers on a snappy and suspenseful ride. The special effects are still astoundingly good today, and I can't even fathom how they were able to create intricate interactions with all kinds of props and people.

Bride of Frankenstein (1935) - To be honest, I was pretty underwhelmed by the original Frankenstein (1931). It's certainly an important chapter in cinematic history, with some good moments and of course Boris Karloff's iconic performance, but it hasn't aged very well as entertainment. On the other hand we have the sequel, which somehow manages to be funny, sad, spooky, campy, and genuine all at once. Some people griped about Karloff's monster learning to speak (only up to about a caveman level), but I think it adds depth to each of the character's many facets - dryly humorous, lonely, destructive, monster, man. (And if you're wondering whether you can skip ahead to Bride without seeing the original, you'll be fine if you have even a totally basic understanding of the Frankenstein story.)

Cat People (1942) - Meow! I thoroughly enjoyed this feline flick, which is considered emblematic of producer Val Lewton's approach - high gloss on a low budget, implying things instead of showing them, and coating the whole affair in dark, dripping shadows. If the presence of 40s psychology, ancient Serbian curses, giant wildcats and bewitching actress Simone Simon doesn't sell you, then believe me when I say that director Jacques Torneur's manipulation of the suspenseful scenes honestly rivals prime Hitchcock.

Gaslight (1944) - No ghoulies or beasties here, but it's a shadowy Victorian thriller that chronicles a descent into madness. Ingrid Bergman nabbed an Oscar for her great leading performance, including a marvelous final scene, and she's ably supported by Charles Boyer, Angela Lansbury, and Dame May Whitty - not to mention a spooky house that seems to be turning on her. Director George Cukor proved himself to be just as skilled with Gothic chillers as with the urbane comedies he's known for.

Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956) - Invasion flicks from the 50s that may or may not have symbolized fears of Communism are a dime a dozen, but this is arguably the definitive one. What sets it apart, I think, is that while many of its peers succumbed to hysteria and (perhaps unintentional) camp, IotBS keeps a pretty detached and serious approach despite its modest means. There are no giant ooky creatures, just plant pods that eventually turn into people identical to ones you know. There's no blood and guts, just a barely perceptible transformation into a high-functioning zombie. Very tense, taut, and effective. "You're next!"

Horror of Dracula (1958) - Eager to delve into the world of Hammer Horror, I started with one of their most famous titles and was not disappointed. With all due respect to the original Lugosi Dracula from 1931, that film - like the original Frankenstein - reads more as a historical artifact than entertainment (at least to me). Hammer's version has two major things going for it: sumptuous Technicolor and a lack of American prudishness. Thus we get to witness bold erotic undertones and gloriously bright red blood spurting out of the staked chests of numerous victims. The plot's pretty twisty too - the focus keeps shifting between characters, and I'm not sure that there's ever a definite protagonist. Plus, the ending kicks ass.

Cape Fear (1962) - Not exactly a horror movie, but Max Cady (Robert Mitchum) is one of the most deliciously sinister villains ever, and the ominous lighting turns otherwise friendly suburbs and lakeside cabins into claustrophobic nightmares. But the scariest part is the well-exploited truth that police can't really protect you from a dangerous person swearing revenge until they actually strike, leaving the audience feeling as helpless as the terrorized Bowden family.

The Raven (1963) - Roger Corman directs the holy horror trio of Boris Karloff, Peter Lorre and Vincent Price - plus an insanely young Jack Nicholson! And it's kind of a spoof comedy! All the fixings are here - dark castles, black magic, nefarious schemes - but with hammy performances and a hearty wink to the audience. You could probably even watch it with kids, if they're okay with the somewhat relaxed pace.

Plus a couple of recent picks:

Shaun of the Dead (2004) - Horror and comedy may seem like strange bedfellows, but it was a natural and common pairing in the 30s. Shaun rocks it like it never went out of style, combining the British comedy trifecta of Simon Pegg, Nick Frost and director Edgar Wright for what was called a "romzomcom." It does get rather scary and even heartwrenching at times, but it's balanced well by the fantastically smart comedy and I'm sure most weenies can stomach it. Did I mention it's hilarious?

Zombieland (2009) - Another romzomcom (who would have thought that that phrase could have multiple applications?), but with a lighter tone than Shaun despite its more dire circumstances. The talented cast has great chemistry, and of course there's That Cameo which despite being spoiled all over the internet is still amazing.

And to augment your viewing, might I suggest a liberal sprinkling of Looney Tunes? I've been getting back into them lately due to my boyfriend owning all the giant box sets, and I promise that they're as funny as ever. Plus, it can be fun to pair shorts with features. This link offers some viewing ideas to get you started, but make sure you include one of the two cartoons starring the supremely underrated character of Gossamer. Because he's a giant red monster that wears only sneakers.

This is truly only the tip of the iceberg and includes just the movies I can vouch for personally. However, my Halloween list for future years keeps growing, and if you too are hungry for more I've included some links for exploring other fantastic but weenie-friendly fare.

Classic Universal horror
Val Lewton's RKO films
Hammer horror
Films directed by Roger Corman

Happy Halloween, everyone! I've got a full slate of flicks lined up for the weekend, but I'm afraid that those will appear in next year's installment. In the meantime, what are your favorite Halloweenie flicks?