A Moment

There was an intensity to him that made it hard to look away. But not that. Not just that. A sadness. A loneliness. I saw it within him because I recognized it within myself.

I think I'm more alone when I'm with another person in that room for 15 minutes than any other time of the day. Watching as the candles melt down. Wishing I was anywhere but here.

But within that moment when he almost hit me with his taxi, we were looking into each other's souls. The rest of the world drifted away. The sticky summer air clinging to my skin. The awful scent of garbage that penetrated my nostrils after weeks of rotting on the streets. None of it mattered as I lived in that moment. Maybe it's a drippy thing to think. But you ever have an instant connection with someone?

That's what it was.

He followed me with his taxi down the road and I could feel his eyes on me. Did he see what I saw? He must've felt it. Everyday tens upon hundreds upon millions of encounters. People's faces become a blur seeing so many as you walk the overcrowded streets. Until they all melt together into one faceless blob. But his stood out from the crowd. It was that intense look he had. It left me naked. I mean, exposed. It was a strange feeling. Sure, I've been with plenty of guys without my clothes on. I'm not as innocent as I may look. But this was different. It wasn't about sex. Not about that. It just was. And it made me uneasy yet comforted. Is that strange to say? I was comforted by it.  

When I saw him again, I knew it was not an accident. The universe does what it does for a reason.

In the room I played my part like he was one of the others. Their clammy hands pawing at me. That's not what he wanted. He asked if I remembered. Remember when I had gotten into his taxi. Of course. It was universe playing her part again. That was him? Of course it was. It had to have been. I played it cool. How do you tell someone that of course you remember. You remember everything. Everything in your being was telling you to scram from Sport. From the city. From what it was you had become. To never look back.

He could've saved me then.

Why didn't he? It wasn't time then. We needed that moment. The moment on the street. He must've felt it it too. Had he come to save me now? Was it crazy to think so? But it had to be. It had to. He was my avenging angel in a checkered taxi cab. (Geez, don't be such a weirdo.) But he was there to rescue me. Save me. Maybe that's what he saw within that moment. He saw. It was more than just a moment. Perhaps it was my salvation.

This post is part of Nathaniel's weekly series Hit Me With Your Best Shot over at The Film Experience. We live within Travis Bickle's thoughts in the film "Taxi Driver", I used my Best Shot as inspiration to see the film from within another perspective...

Crawford vs. McCambridge: A Scorching Showdown

Why is it that whenever a film stars more than one woman in it the media always tries to turn the actresses into rivals? It seems almost impossible from them to believe that women would want to support each other, standing in solidarity of their fellow female. Instead they always imagine them having hair-pulling, drink-throwing, eye-scratching cat fights like the only thing to base actual female relationships on is the interactions of The Real Housewives of <insert a place name> (I'm still not convinced all those ladies weren't manufactured in a Dynasty-style warehouse). But juicy stories of on-set rivalries are often greatly exaggerated and actresses usually reiterate their adoration of their cast mates.

And then there's Joan Crawford.

Crawford is perhaps the early model for why this stereotype actually exists in the first place. Her decades-long feud with Bette Davis has become the stuff of legends and fueled further fascination when the two actresses co-starred with each other (and tormented each other) in 1962's  What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (By the way, we need a Mommie Dearest-style film about all that, like, yesterday.) And after we witnessed last week's unhinged interpretation of the actress played to the hilt by Faye Dunaway (making rivalries not just an on-set activity, while vying for attention with her own daughter), this week Nathaniel at The Film Experience had us look at the real thing in the subversive western Johnny Guitar. Despite being named for the bland Benedict Cumberbatch-looking Sterling Hayden's titular character, the manly genre is given a much-needed feminine make-over. The showdown typically engaged in by two macho men in cowboy hats, is instead played out between Crawford and Oscar winner Mercedes McCambridge. And to the surprise of no one, the two just didn't get along on set.

Apparently the dispute began because Joan had once dated McCambridge's husband at the time. Crawford also didn't like how director Nicholas Ray seemed to give praise to McCambridge. And one night, Joan took her co-star's costumes (and her actual clothing) and scattered them along the highway. Both women were very much under the influence of alcohol at the time (although you can't really tell in their performances). McCambridge later described Crawford as "a mean, tipsy, powerful, rotten-egg lady". (Which I have now made my life's goal to use this description regarding someone.) But Crawford took the high road in regards to McCambridge saying "I have four children - I do not need a fifth." (Huh, maybe old Joan liked her after all. Considering she wouldn't treat McCambridge the same way she did little Christina...)

Before we get to my choice for Best Shot and since these ladies were at odds both onscreen and off, let's just break down what each of them has in their favor and see who will come out victorious in a little friendly battle.

In this corner, we have our first contender.:

Joan Crawford as saloon owner Vienna

• Named after a European capital
• A business owner
• played by a Best Actress Oscar winner
• In favor of change. That railroad is coming whether they like it or not - get on board!
• Skilled piano player
• Unsullied - Spends a good deal of time in the red dirt while wearing an all white dress (complete with white stockings and shoes) and miraculously somehow avoids any stains or spots at all. 
• Knows the power of an effective soft focus no matter how distracting it is that no one else is allowed one in their own shot within the same scene
• Good lighting is key. Had all of her "outdoor" close-up shots redone in a studio so that the light could be controlled. 
• When in doubt - change your costume. (Has at least three costume changes in the last half hour alone.) 
• Lucky enough to make any outfit work. Although it's a little suspicious that the clothes of a teenage boy named Turkey included a bright yellow blouse with shoulder pads and high-waisted mom jeans
• She's a straight shooter

And taking her on:

Mercedes McCambridge as Emma Small, local shit-stirrer 

• Loving sister. (Sorry about your brother...)
• Is possibly a repressed lesbian. Sorry, Small, no one is buying that crush you supposedly have on the Dancin' Kid
• Played by a Best Supporting Actress Oscar winner
• Take charge kinda gal. Pretty much bullies an entire group of men to do what she says
• Can really hold a grudge (I'm still not entirely sure why she dislikes Vienna so much)
• Does her own stunts. Well, willing to fall off buildings and be filmed in the actual outdoors
• Is possibly a pyromaniac...which, speaking of, it looks like this battle just got a little heated as McCambridge literally sets the competition on fire and blazes in with my Best Shot:

Imagining herself to be the Phantom of the Opera, Emma destroy's Vienna chandelier by shooting it down and setting fire to Vienna's business. It's such an over the top gesture that really rubs her victory in Vienna's face. As if having her rival be dragged out and hanged wasn't enough, Emma's gotta be all small about it and make sure that everything is destroyed. And she is really feeling herself. She slowly backs up and raises her arms as if she's conjuring evil spirits to come and unsex her there. As she rushes out of the burning building she becomes almost orgasmic in her delight. I kept waiting for a witch's cackling to come out. But her power is in this element of fire, feeding the flames of hate. How fitting for an actress that would later go on to provide the voice of the Prince of Darkness in The Exorcist, Beelzebub himself.

Sorry, Joan. McCambridge brought out the big guns. You're gonna have to do a lot better than that tiny flame.

Come on, now don't make that face! To be fair, we'll let everyone else decide:

Who Would Win in a Battle?

Joan Crawford

Mercedes McCambridge

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I've Written a Letter to Mommie

April 1, 2015

Dearest Miss Crawford Ms. Dunaway,

I've never really sent one of these before and although I do follow you on twitter  (by the way, no tweets since August? Come back to us, Faye...) I felt that an old-fashioned fan letter (I've also enclosed a self-addressed stamped envelope so you can send an autographed headshot) is just the sort of gesture reminiscence of Classic Hollywood that you would appreciate. Or maybe I'm just equating you too much with another star that you have become almost synonymous with ever since you sunk your deliciously sharpened talons into her. I'm of course referring to your infamous role as Oscar winner Joan Crawford in 1981's Mommie Dearest. You disappear so completely into the role, that it is hard to remember where she ends and you as an actress begin. And although I feel that you're more inclined to believe your work in such films as Bonnie and Clyde, Chinatown, and Network are more deserving of accolades (and you're amazing in those as well), there's just something about your performance as Miss Crawford that is truly something to behold.

To say that it was not appreciated for what it was at the time it was released is an understatement. Winning the Razzie for Worst Actress of the year and receiving reviews like this one in Variety, "Dunaway does not chew scenery. Dunaway starts neatly at each corner of the set in every scene and swallows it whole, costars and all." couldn't have helped your ego. And I've heard that you were crushed after the film's reception turned you into an instant camp classic, honestly believing that you would receive your 4th Oscar nomination for your performance. I bring all this up not to make you feel bad, but to assure that they were all fools! You were right - you should've been nominated for an Oscar for this. (Easily over Katharine Hepburn's much more embarrassing performance in On Golden Pond.) And I've heard that you've said that you wish director Frank Perry had had the foresight to reign you in more. I think I speak for all of us when I thank him for not interfering and allowing you to go as crazy-committed as you did. Cinema needs more of what you were doing as Crawford. Would you deny us this face:

I think the two scenes that immediately come to mind when people think of your work in the film are two of the most quoted and imitated (certainly by decades of drag queens), but imitation is the sincerest form of flattery they say - and for good reason. The first, after being dropped from Warner Bros for being box office poison and taking it out on the defenseless rose bushes, all while decked out in sequins and chiffon ("Tiiiiinnnnaaaa!!! Bring. Me. The. AXE!!!"). It's the first time that we actually become afraid of what Joan is capable of. When she bellows for that weapon, there's real fear that she's not gonna stop using it once the branches have been taken down. There's an electricity in the unknown, just where you'll go with Joan's meltdown. But it's all just a warm-up for the mother of all breakdowns. I dare anyone that sees a wire hanger not to shout that line that you made infamous. The ferocity and stamina you have in sustaining that scene - from the first glimpse at the hanger in question to the physically violent wrestling match on the bathroom floor covered in Ajax - is epic. It's exhausted just watching you throw yourself so fully into it. It's particularly awe-inspiring to see an actress relinquish all thoughts of vanity and care to create such a monstrous, monumental creation. It is truly the stuff of legends.

But if I'm picking a single best shot from the film - which, incidentally, I actually am. Since my friend Nathaniel from the blog The Film Experience (Faye, as a celebrated actress you owe it to yourself to read the site) has tasked us with that very assignment. In other words, Hit Me With Your Best Shot. (And I don't mean what you throw across Christina's petulant face...) It happens far earlier than either of those previously mentioned scenes, before Joan even becomes a mother. (Which I think we all can agree was one of her worst ideas.) It touches on what makes a legend and shows that stars, like the kind Joan Crawford was and you still are, Miss Dunaway, are most decidedly not like us. And that's why we love them.

After we begin the film with Joan's extensive and masochistic beauty regimen and then see her obsession with making her home spotless (move the damn plant when you mop!), naturally the best place for her to seduce a man is in a three-headed, pristine, pink shower while still fully made up in complete hair and make-up. This is how a star showers. It just makes total sense that this is what Joan would find sexy because it's a perfect marriage of all that she lives for and aspires to: Glamour and cleanliness. After all, cleanliness is next to godliness. And Miss Dunaway as Joan Crawford, you are certainly a goddess. 

Joan Crawford was quoted as saying you were the only actress at the time that had what it took to be a real star. And it's been said that you felt that the spirit of Joan Crawford possessed you while filming. It seems that both of you had a mutual admiration and understanding of the other.  Which is apparent in this performance. So I just want to thank you for your work in Mommie Dearest because I am one of your fans. 

                                                                                All my very best,  

A Legendary Pair in a Trio of Tales

Film is full of famous duos: Laurel and Hardy, Tracy and Hepburn, Bogie and Bacall. Each pair of names conjuring recognizably distinct personalities (usually opposites that compliment one another) and memorable cinematic moments specific to their unique chemistry together. But when Sophia Loren was coupled up with Marcello Mastroianni in the 1954 Italian comedy Too Bad She's Bad it was the beginning of an on-screen relationship that would span half a century in over a dozen films making the couple the most recognizable faces of Italian film. Both achieved international fame and recognition individually. Loren was the first actress to win an Oscar for a foreign language performance with 1961's Two Women and Mastroianni has more Oscar nominations for foreign language performances (3 Best Actor nominations: 1962's Divorce Italian Style, 1977's A Special Day, and 1987's Dark Eyes) than any other performer. But the two worked best when they were together, especially loving and fighting in the Italian sex comedies that brought them to the attention of audiences. 

And perhaps their most iconic cinematic moment occurred in this week's film for Hit Me With Your Best Shot from Nathaniel at The Film Experience, Vittorio De Sica's triptych Oscar winner for Best Foreign Language film Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow. You better believe my best shot comes from that scene, which we'll get to soon enough (not to tease you, but you'll know it when you see it - even if you've never seen the film). Because the film is broken up into 3 stories, each set in a different Italian city, there are actually 3 Best Shots this week. And that famous scene isn't even in the best section of the film! That distinction belongs to the film's first section about Adelina of Naples.

When things are broken up into multiple parts, there's always gonna be ones that stand out more than the others. At almost an hour, "Adelina" is longer and more interesting than either of the other 2 stories in the film that I wish they had just added 30 minutes or so and made the film all about this. (But then we would've missed out on the film's famous last scene, which I would not be okay with.) The first story in the film is about a perpetually unemployed husband and a wife that sells cigarettes on the blackmarket. To avoid serving time in jail, she is eternally pregnant thanks to a law that prevents her from being arrested if she's nursing or with child. 

The shot I've chosen as my Best from this section shows Loren's Adelina along the steps of Naples, where she appears everyday to sell her illegal wares. Usually surrounded by the other women that work in her profession, they have all scattered to the wind when it's announced that the police are on their way. All leave expect Adelina. A sole figure, standing her ground and taunting the officers with her Get Out of Jail Free card:

     

There is very little in life that Adelina has control over. She and her family are virtually penniless. She must work to feed her growing brood, otherwise they starve. But in this moment with her head held high, cradling her child against her bosom - she has the power. And she relishes every moment of it.

In the film's second (and least successful) part, Loren plays Anna of Milan, a wealthy woman in a loveless marriage with a powerful man (his name is literally on ever billboard in the city, proclaiming his importance). She begins a fling with another man, out of boredom more than spite, who she picks up to go for a drive in her Rolls-Royce. Unlike Adelina who fights for and savors her small position of power, Anna, decked out in expensive furs and Christian Dior, takes all she has for granted. She tells her lover Renzo there is a profound emptiness inside her and for a brief minute the shallow woman becomes contemplative:

  

It's the only instance of the story where Anna becomes anything close to being sympathetic. After Renzo accidentally crashes her car, she reveals her true feelings. There is an emptiness inside her, but it is of her own making. Her greed and superficial cares have made her dead inside. What I love in this instance is that Renzo reaches his hand out to her as if trying to save her, but the cold look on her face and steadfast gaze in the distance shows that she's too far away to ever be saved by anyone - least of all him. 

Which brings us to the last segment of the film in which Loren plays Mara of Rome, a high-class call girl that begins a flirtatious, but innocent  relationship with her young neighbor, a priest in seminary school. Unaware of her profession, the boy becomes infatuated with her. But when his grandmother denounces the harlot in front of him, he spurns his family and refuses to continue his priestly studies. Mara, feeling guilty about the ensuing events, vows to light candles and remain celibate until the young man returns to school. Which makes it all very difficult for her main client. Luckily she's not above giving a little taste, which brings us to the film's climax and most famous moment. The Striptease:

I almost went with a single shot of Loren, when she turns around with a shocked look after almost taking off her bra - remembered what she promised. But decided that a two shot of the famous actors was much more fitting. And I realized that I had created my own tease in revealing Mastroianni in my procession of shots. Nowhere to be seen in "Adelina", the hint of a hand in "Anna" and finally the big reveal: Loren and Mastroianni together at last. And the scene is the best of the entire film - there's a reason it's so well remembered. Loren scorching hot, every inch the sex symbol she is, seductively rolls down her stocking while giving Mastroianni a come-hither look. But the best part is the juxtaposition of Loren's very adult-like pose with Mastroianni's child-like one. His face resting in his hands, as eager and excited as a young boy seeing a pair of boobs for the very first time! The scene is so famous that years later when the two co-stars appeared in Robert Altman's Pret-a-Porter, they recreated the striptease, but this time Mastroianni falls asleep before Loren can even finish. Able to poke fun of the legend that had built around them over the decades, Loren and Mastroianni's chemistry, like all of film's great duos, is as apparent then as it was in Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow. 

Irish Truths: Me, My Dad, and Maureen O'Hara

St. Patrick's Day is not generally the sort of holiday that makes people get nostalgic or think fondly of family. Those warm feelings are usually reserved for more popular holidays like Thanksgiving or Christmas when familial bonding and the giving of thanks is pretty much mandatory. But when Nathaniel from The Film Experience chose The Quiet Man (1952), John Ford's Oscar-winning love letter to Ireland, as this week's film for Hit Me With Your Best Shot in honor of that Irish holiday, there was only one thing that immediately came to my mind: My Dad.

All of my memories and associations of John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara's tempestuous courtship amid the Emerald Isle are always colored by thoughts of my father. His fondness for the film - which ranks as one of his all-time favorites - has overtaken anything else that I associate with the film. I can remember him watching it when I was younger on a VHS copy that we owned. At that time I was intrigued by older films but not exactly enamored with them as I've since become and wondered what about this particular movie made my dad have such affection for it. I recently just wrote about the film in honor of Maureen O'Hara being awarded the Honorary Oscar in November, but was disappointed that I hadn't asked him to share his thoughts on it with me. When the film came up this week,  I could think of no better time to actually ask my father to share his thoughts on The Quiet Man and have him pick his favorite shot from this much-loved classic:

"There is no doubt that John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara had roles that were perfect with each other. From their first movie together to the last one they starred in together, the two of them were completely believable as lovers and/or spouses. In each movie there was always banter, spats and misunderstanding, and conflicts that real couples experience in the course of their relationships. But, like real couples' experiences, often, but not always, there is a reconciliation that occurs when the couple finally realize that the conflict doesn't override the deep love that they share. In all 5 of the movies starring John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara that is the basic plot, but with them, the story always seems real and believable, and their relationship just plain works.

In "The Quiet Man", the chemistry between ALL the characters is prominent throughout the film from beginning to end. When in Ireland, one expects the Irish to behave as they do in "The Quiet Man". Whether it is actual, I couldn't say, but there is a certain cleverness in relating their view of everyday life. Sarcasm with undertones of truth. As far as a favorite scene, that would be too difficult to ask me to pinpoint. I can, however, narrow it to a few scenes that touched me or made me chuckle. 

 A scene that depicts a view of an "Irish truth" is when Sean Thornton rejoins Michael O'Flynn after Mass and his first conversation, although one-sided, with Mary Kate Danaher. O'Flynn lets Sean know it's a sin to be "playing pattyfingers in the Holy Water", which is an Irish Catholic truth. Another "Irish truth" is in the same scene when Sean asks if Mary Kate is married. O'Flynn responds as a big brother relating his experiences of fiery redheads to caution his younger, inexperienced brother with, "that is no joke Sean... with those freckles and red hair". 

 Watch the movie more than once to catch the clever innuendos between the characters... and, it is between every one of the characters. Their sarcasm is always quick and sharp and makes me smile at nearly every scene. 

My Father's Best Shot

Maybe the most poignant scene for me is, after dragging Mary Kate "the whole long way" to confront her brother, Sean suggests that the marriage is over because her brother refuses to honor the age-old tradition of providing a dowry with the bride. It can be seen in her eyes at that very minute when she realizes that Sean is the man she was hoping for even though she had doubts. Just after her wedding she asks one of the characters, "What sort of a man is it that I have married?" And the reply was, "A much better man than you think Mary Kate." When Mary Kate opens the furnace door to assist Sean, she is ridding themselves of the burden of the dowry, that is when she has a new found respect for and sees Sean, her husband, clearly. Mary Kate knows what has to be done... the fight!

So, the story takes the same path as expected... the meeting, banter, spats and misunderstanding, conflict, and finally, reconciliation. John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara have a natural relationship that is evident in their movies. They interact beautifully as a loving couple rather than actors simply reciting lines. The Irish countryside is beautiful, the characters are fun, the story is believable, and, I just enjoy a story with a happy ending."

What I love most about the shot that my father has chosen is the intensity that the two actors have with each other. (O'Hara becomes so overtaken in the moment that her chin briefly begins to quiver with unbridled emotion.) You can almost see the electricity shooting between their stares, so much communicated between them without a single word uttered. And the none-too-subtle blaze between them certainly helps illustrate their fiery relationship. But I've always found the preceding event (Mary Kate being dragged across the fields) and the fight that follows to be problematic and the biggest hurdles in my ultimate enjoyment of the film. (Sorry, Dad...) For my own Best Shot, I chose another moment that captures the passionate nature of Maureen O'Hara's Mary Kate, while also celebrating her wild spirit. The moment that Sean sees her for the first time:

My Best Shot

O'Hara has said that they spent a lot of time on this scene, the first instance that we the audience and Wayne's Sean Thornton first encounter Mary Kate. She knew that if we didn't buy that Sean was drawn to her right from the start that the rest of the film wouldn't hold our attention. But O'Hara announces her arrival on screen with an air of mystery and intrigue. There's something almost mystical about Mary Kate's first appearance, the bucolic setting, the other-worldly glow around her as if she's a forest spirit that has stepped out of Celtic folklore. And it affects Sean so deeply that later in the film he tells her, "Some things a man doesn't get over so easy... Like the sight of a girl coming through the fields with the sun on her hair." And we as the audience don't forget it so easily either. But what I love most about this shot is how the film sets Mary Kate up to be this unattainable, soft-lit ideal, and then proceeds to give us a real, earth-bound woman full of contradictions, opinions, and fight. 

My father might be the first thing I think of in regards to The Quiet Man, but it's Maureen O'Hara (and her movie star entrance) that make it watchable for me. Whenever she's onscreen, I begin to see glimmers of what my father sees in it and why he loves it as much as he does. Instead of drinking green beers on St. Patrick's Day, perhaps the new tradition for the holiday should be be father/son bonding over Maureen O'Hara and The Quiet Man. 

How a Drag House Becomes a Home

Clear the floor for this week's edition of Hit Me With Your Best Shot from Nathaniel at The Film Experience. And, girl, you better work it! This week we strap on our best designer outfit (that was probably stolen) and dive deep into the world of 1980s ball culture in the Black, Latino, gay, and transgender community in New York City. Released in 1990, this documentary film has received something of a cult following over the past 25 years. Bringing Voguing to the public consciousness a year before Madonna would make the dance mainstream and introducing words and phrases that the gay community has been using for years that have suddenly entered the lexicon of pop culture slang. All those people throwing shade, having a kiki, and bringing <insert description> realness have the women from these Drag Houses (LaBeija, Extravaganza, Ninja) to thank. 

But the film isn't all glitzy over-the-top fashion, expertly timed reads, and super model-inspired body contortions. At the heart of the film is a group of people that felt marginalized and ignored in society coming together and celebrating what makes them unique. I love that although there are different categories and competitions at the ball (Executive Realness! Dynasty! Banji Girl!) virtually everyone goes home with a trophy. Some might have larger trophies or, you know, actually be named the 1st prize winner - but there aren't really losers, only smaller sized trophies. 

And ultimately the balls aren't about being "legendary" or living an extravaganza lifestyle. They are about acceptance and the communal celebration of individuals forming a group that make them feel like you're not alone. So many of the young people that compete in the balls come from broken homes, longing for something better (it's a little heartbreaking to hear so many of them talk about their aspirations to be rich and famous). Their blood families usually disown them because of who they are and they end up forming new families - ones that love and nurture them. Which is why I chose for my pick this week a shot of that familial bond that happens between the young competitors. Stripped of the costumes, away from the spotlight of the ball, they are just young boys that care for one another as deeply as if they are family - because that's what they are:

But I'll let Miss Dorian Corey have the last word, since she always knows what to say and I do NOT need her reading me:

"A house. Let's see if we can put it down sharply. They're families. You can say that. They're families... for a lot of children who don't have families. But this is a new meaning of family.

The hippies had families and no one thought nothing about it. It wasn't a question of a man and a woman and children, which we grew up knowing as a family. It's a question of a group of human beings in a mutual bond."

These Are a Few of My Favorite Things

Back in December 2013 when NBC aired their live version of The Sound of Music, Carrie Underwood took to Twitter the next day to address all her detractors regarding her performance by simply responding: "Plain and simple: Mean people need Jesus. They will be in my prayers tonight..." It's the kind of response you'd expect from someone that just played a nun in training. But The Sound of Music has always had its haters. With a cast of singing adorable moppets, the spunkiest bunch of nuns this side of Sister Act, and songs about the gastronomic glory of schnitzel with noodles, there was always a danger that the sugary-sweet, goody two-shoes-ness of it all can end up making you feel queasy from all its cloying saccharine. The film's own star Christopher Plummer for years afterward would denounce the film calling it affectionately "The Sound of Mucus." But on the 50th Anniversary of the Best Picture winner, I'm here, like Miss Underwood, to tell all the mean people that don't like it to bugger off. Because, quite simply, the 1965 film version of The Sound of Music is glorious perfection.

From Julie Andrews twirling on a mountaintop to the lump that forms in my throat every time Plummer's Captain von Trapp can't finished "Edelweiss" and the entire concert hall joins him, there is not a single frame or moment that doesn't fill me with warmth and nostalgia. Perhaps because it has been engrained into me since I was a child. I watched it every year when it aired on television (I distinctly remember it at Easter time, but it has somehow shifted to Christmas) and there hasn't been a year that's gone by since I was about 6 or 7 years old that I haven't watched The Sound of Music at least once. To celebrate the film's golden anniversary and the return of Hit Me With Your Best Shot from Nathaniel at The Film Experience, I'm highlighting some of my favorite things about the film. So let's start at the very beginning...

• It's all based on a true story

Well, like everything there's certain liberties taken with the story. Maria had actually been brought to the von Trapp home to only be a governess to one of the children. She only later looked after all of them. There were actually 7 von Trapp children but there were actually 3 boys and one girl - all have different names in the movie. The real children are Rupert, Agathe, Maria, Werner, Hedwig, Johanna, and Martina. In her autobiography, Maria says that she never really loved the Captain and that she honestly wanted to be a nun. But she loved the children and married him for them. (Not quite as romantic as the film, but I guess there's no way to write a ballad about marrying a man for his children.) But the best reminder that the musical and film are about a real woman named Maria von Trapp is that she actually appears in the film with one of the three children she had with Georg, Rosmarie, and her step-grandchild, Barbara (whose father was Werner):

• It giddily embraces its corniness 

The party scene where all of the guests randomly sing "good-bye" to the children and then go about their business as if nothing happened? Amazing. Or how about when the film stops dead to put on an elaborate puppet show about a "Lonely Goatherd" and ends up being a highlight of the film despite doing nothing to advance the plot. And I would just like to sing the praises for a moment of "Sixteen Going on Seventeen". A song that takes place between the oldest looking teenagers to ever sing about the glories of getting older - since they've already been there. And then some. (Charmain Carr who played "16-year-old" Liesl was 22 at the time of filming.) But I've always loved this final shot after Rolf kisses Liesl and she lets out a childish "WEEEEEE!!" There's a second where the shadow makes it look like she's missing her two front teeth and I've always found it to be the funniest thing:

• Its superb attention to detail

The film is far superior to the stage version of The Sound of Music (a singing and dancing Max and Elsa just makes no sense). But the best part of the film is how they opened it up from the movie soundstages and actually filmed in Austria. Those opening shots of the mountains taken from a helicopter that zooms down to Maria (and apparently flattened Julie Andrews in take after take), the mini travelogue brochure of Salzburg as Maria and the children perform "Do-Re-Me" around the city, gives the film a broad cinematic scope, making it feel epic. But within that wide scope are tiny intricacies that sharpen the focus and details that shade the reality. Like this dress worn by an incoming postulant nun just starting her religious order as Maria returns to the Abbey:

When Maria first meets the Captain he tells her that she'll need to change her dress. But she replies that it's the only one she has. When they enter the abbey all their worldly possessions are given to the poor. ("What about that one?" "The poor didn't want this one...") Right after the shot from the scene above, Maria confesses her love for the Captain to the Mother Abbess who tells Maria to "Climb Every Mountain" (the mountain in question being that hunky naval captain...) and return to let him know how she feels. The very next scene, Maria returns to the von Trapp household dressed in this:

Look familiar? Let's hope that young lady doesn't change her mind and ask for her things back...

• For nuns that know how to dismantle a car engine...and a perfectly timed delivery

• But the reason it works at all and remains so watchable 50 years later: Julie Andrews

As Carrie Underwood's wooden performance proved, no one did it better than Julie. Even Lady Gaga at this year's Oscars, when she sang songs from the movie, did it in a British accent. For no other reason than the fact that Julie Andrews is so synonymous with those songs that you just can't help singing them without Julie's lilt. No offense to Julie Christie, who I enjoy in Darling, but Julie Andrews deserved that Best Actress Oscar that year. It's not her fault that she won the year before for Mary Poppins. And as good as that performance is, this one is even better. Her performance is so sincere that it's simply incapable of feeling false, teetering on twee but never succumbing to cheap sentimentality. Coupled with her firm resolve and nurturing kindness, Andrews takes a woman who is essentially "good" and makes her interesting, while making it all look effortless. There's an entire song dedicated to how deeply flawed Maria is (which is rudely sung at her wedding. Thanks a lot, Sisters), but Andrews makes her even more endearing because of those character quirks. Her contradictions and conflicted emotions give Maria a depth not often found in traditional musicals. And amid the eye rolls and stumbles, Andrews also finds simplistic honesty and surprising moments of subtly sensual longing. Like in the shot I chose as my best:

I was surprised that I couldn't stop thinking about this shot after re-watching the film yesterday for two reasons. The first is I simply don't ever remember seeing it before. When you think of The Sound of Music, immediately your mind goes to musical numbers in the hills. As many times as I've watched it, I couldn't recall this shot ever happening and it's rare for something you know so well to still surprise you with new things. (I immediately thought maybe it had been cut from versions shown on television, but what purpose would that serve?) The other reason I loved the scene is because of the wistful quality Andrews has by gently leaning her head against the wall. It's almost as if she's trying to melt into the background and remain unobserved as her gaze silently gives away the new feelings stirring within her. It's the look of love. And like the observant Baroness, I too recognize it because it reflects my own affection for this film. And if you have something mean to say about it, well, I'll just have Carrie Underwood pray for you... 

Hit Me With Your Best (Bullet Time) Shot

"What is the Matrix?"

15 years after it debuted, 2 sequels later, an animated companion piece called the Animatrix, and more exposition than Christopher Nolan ever dreamed of putting into Inception, the only answer I have is...I'm still not entirely sure. But then again, I'm not convinced the Wachowski siblings are completely aware themselves. But they seem to take their sci-fi tale about machines taking over humanity and their not-so-subtle Christianity tinged "One" savior ideal (although, frankly, I'd be a little worried if the fate of humans relied on Keanu Reeves) all so seriously, that it's kinda hard not to follow along on their trippy ride. And even if you don't necessarily buy the philosophical mumbo jumbo ("There is no spoon."), there's no denying that the first Matrix film from 1999 has had a huge visual influence on the action films that followed it. Which makes it such a great choice as the Season Finale of this year's Hit Me With Your Best Shot from Nathaniel at The Film Experience.

Watching this movie again this past weekend, I was actually surprised how well the special effects and CGI from the film held up. 15 years is a long time when it comes to technology and it was remarkable how it hardly looked dated at all. Things that have not held up as well: the late 90's X-treme Prodigy-like Industrial Goth Rock soundtrack (get out the glow sticks, cause we're going to a rave!), the Hot Topic "edgy" head-to-toe black latex ensembles, and Joe Pantoliano's acting (I mean, no one was gonna win an Oscar for any of this, but I'm not sure what the hell he was going for).

But what about the famous "Bullet Time" with its trademarked slow-motion? The special effect that would launch a thousand imitators, thus setting up the way most action movies have been shot for the subsequent 15 years? Does it still have the power to impress all these years, I can hear you ask. In a word: Whoa. Surprisingly, it still does. And at the risk of choosing such an obvious choice, I felt like I could really only go with one of the Bullet Time shots. But instead of the most well-known shot with Keanu's Neo doing a slo-mo backbend in his trench coat and sunglasses. I chose this shot after his Christ-like rise from the dead:

After being left for dead having battled the relentless Agent Smith (Hugo Weaving in the role that would launch his career to the next level), Neo fulfills the prophecy and takes his place as the One. Mixing mythology, religion, and fairy tales together, Neo's awakening is more Sleeping Beauty than Jesus as a kiss from Trinity - who was destined to fall in love with the One (how convenient!) - brings him back to life. 

What I love about this shot is the ripple of the bullets as Neo stretches out his hand. It's almost as if he's pulling them toward him and it becomes a metaphor for the influence this film would have, pulling other directors and special effects creators into its orbit and the ripple effect it would have on filmmaking. 

But seriously, what is the damn Matrix?

Lady in Red

Welcome back to the second half of our Hit Me With Your Best Shot 75th Anniversary Gone With the Wind celebration courtesy of Nathaniel at The Film Experience.

When last we caught up with Miss Scarlett she was shaking her fist in the air letting us know that as God is her witness, she'd never go hungry again. And as the rest of the film proves, she certainly keeps her promises. After the war has ended and after Scarlett finally marries Rhett, I've never really enjoyed the film as much as the first 3 hours. Once she's married to Rhett, the struggle for survival is pretty much over and the film takes on a more domestic melodramatic feel. When the film tries to make us care about Scarlett and Rhett as a couple, it loses its epic sweep, focusing on petty problems instead of the endurance of the human spirit. And I've never fully bought the romantic connection. Probably because I prefer when Scarlett is on her own defying convention - making everything about her. She's the only person she ever really cares about anyway.

Which is what leads me to my choice for Best Shot. It happens right after Scarlett has been caught in a nostalgic embrace with her beloved Ashley by his spiteful sister, India. Spreading the word about Scarlett's torrid love affair with Ashley, India tries to besmirch Scarlett's reputation and poison the relationship that Scarlett has with Melanie. Scarlett is due at Ashley's birthday party at his and Melanie's home, but she has chosen to stay away. Rhett, calling Scarlett out for her behavior (and not wanting to endanger the future of their daughter, Bonnie), forces her to attend. If nothing else for the satisfaction of Melanie ordering Scarlett to leave her home.

Rhett, wanting Scarlett to appear as the adulterous she is accused of, throws a scandalous burgundy velvet and feathered dress at Scarlett to wear as her scarlet letter:

"Wear that! Nothing modest or matronly will do for this occasion - Put on plenty of rouge. I want you to look your part tonight."

Rhett knows that nothing would ever happen between Ashley and Scarlett as he knows that Ashley is too "honorable" (too much of a coward to actually be unfaithful), but he wants to teach Scarlett a lesson as he "throws her to the lions" at Melanie's party as she makes her entrance in this:

But rather than shrinking from the shocked looks and disapproving eyes, Scarlett stands confidently and defiantly. It's the only way she knows how. Scarlett has always been her own woman, never afraid to make enemies (even of her loved ones) or stand out in a crowd. She welcomes the sneers as it only makes her stronger. Set against the simple, modestly decorated Wilkes' home, Scarlett seems even more out of place in her finery, as proud and haughty as the plumed peacock. It's one of the most iconic cinematic entrances of all-time and a memorable moment in a film filled with them. The burgundy dress has become a symbol of Scarlett O'Hara herself - bold, brassy, and singularly unique.

Scarlett's Strength

If someone were to ask me to name my favorite movie, I would quickly reply, unequivocally and unapologetically, Gone With the Wind. The 1939 epic classic is hardly a perfect film (the second half of the movie is not nearly as engaging as the first and let's not even start on the issues of race and the portrayal of most of the black characters), but I love the big bloated behemoth, faults and all. I've seen it countless times including 3 times on the big screen (and let me tell ya, it is the way the film was meant to be seen) including one screening with an introduction from actress Ann Rutherford who played youngest O'Hara daughter, Carreen. I never miss an opportunity to introduce it to new viewers and one summer I made the two little girls that I was babysitting watch it. When their parents came home with an hour left of the film, they joined us in the viewing and we all watched it together, mesmerized.

So I couldn't have been more excited when Nathaniel at The Film Experience chose the film, in honor of its 75th Anniversary year, as the subject for this week's Hit Me With Your Best Shot (I was also the one who happened to suggest it, so...) and to better accommodate all the grandeur of the film, this week will focus on the first half and next week on the second. That's right, a double dose of GWTW. Why, I'm just as giddy as Scarlett surrounded by men at the Twelve Oaks barbecue.

With so many memorable and iconic images that have seeped their way into our brains over the many years it has entertained audiences (and those are audiences are as big as the film itself. Adjusted for inflation, the film ranks far and away as the biggest all-time box office champ), filled with countless shots guaranteed to be included in every movie montage ever made, it seems overwhelming to pick just one. But I knew whatever shot I picked would have to include the reason I love the movie so much. It's the reason why it has endured the way it has to become the legend that it is. It is all thanks to the performance of a then relatively unknown British actress taking on one of the most legendary roles in film history: Vivien Leigh as Scarlett O'Hara.

Fiddle-dee-dee, why I'm only the greatest female character in all of film...

When Margaret Mitchell started writing the novel that would eventually become the Pulitzer Prize-winning Gone With the Wind (her working title was one of Scarlett's favorite phrases Tomorrow is Another Day), she was said to have based Scarlett on another popular heroine of literature, Becky Sharp in William Makepeace Thakery's Vanity Fair. The subtitle of Thakery's book is A Novel Without a Hero, with its anti-heroine Sharp at the core of the story. She is manipulative and unscrupulous, never afraid to use her feminine wiles to charm her way into getting what she wants. Mitchell used these qualities when creating her fiery lead character (who, by the way, was originally given the very pathetic-sounding name of Pansy. Mitchell soon realized that the strong-willed heroine of her story needed a name as bold as her personality) giving Scarlett Becky Sharp's sway over men and a steadfast determination. 

It's that determination that's most admirable in Scarlett. Spoiled, selfish, and not the best judge of her own well-being - that Scarlett could actually believe she's in love with the prissy Ashley Wilkes is one of her biggest flaws. So clearly wrong for her on every level, she has convinced herself that his unattainable love is the ultimate prize to win. In the hands of a lesser actress, Scarlett could easily become a heartless, one-note bitch. Luckily, with Vivien Leigh at the helm, Scarlett became a multifaceted creation. Full of nuance and prickly motivations, she never feels the need to win us over as Scarlett would with one of her beaus, knowing that complexity is much more fascinating than easy likability.

It helps that Leigh, herself, was just as determined as the character she portrayed. Fighting off thousands of young hopefuls to play the coveted part in the film (she once remarked that the body heat of the previous actress was still warm when she filmed her screen test), Leigh was telling people years before they even started work on the film that she would win the role - all without having set a foot in Hollywood. But when she finally did arrive, once filming had already begun on the film - without its main character - she made her presence known, perfectly calculating her arrival for maximum effect. The flames of Atlanta as her backdrop, Leigh was the phoenix from the ashes that Selznick needed to bring his story to life.

And that singleminded dedication to succeed is what also inspired my choice for Best Shot. After Scarlett has escaped Atlanta, with Melanie (Olivia de Havilland) and Melanie's newborn child with Ashley in tow, she believes her troubles will be over once she reaches her beloved home of Tara. Unfortunately that's hardly the case as Tara has been stripped of all its resources and depleted of its food supply, her mother has recently died, and her father has gone mad from the stress of it all. Aching and starving, Scarlett goes out to the garden and chokes down a bite of mealy carrot, only to have the foul taste come right back up. But instead of becoming defeated by it all, it only provides fuel to the fire that rages inside her. With clenched jaw and raised fist, Leigh delivers Scarlett's most famous (often parodied) and impassioned speeches:

As God is my witness, as God is my witness they're not going to beat me. I'm going to live through this and when it's all over, I'll never be hungry again. No, nor any of my folk. If I have to lie, steal, cheat or kill. As God is my witness, I'll never be hungry again!

Best Shot

Scarlett is not the same person she was in that first shot of her sitting on the porch, flirting with the Tarleton Twins, not a care in the world. That girl is gone, in her place is a woman of iron grit and strength. She has lived through hardship and knows that many more will follow. And with the swell of "Tara's Theme" playing as the camera pulls back to create its famous shot of Scarlett's silhouette against the blood-red sky, I always get chills. The power of that moment is what film is all about - inspiring us to muster the same resilience, shake our fist at the world, and stand as tall as Scarlett O'Hara.

Make sure to come back next Tuesday, August 26th, to see the second part of our GWTW celebration...

The Misfortune of Montgomery Clift

The men in Tennessee Williams' work never seem to elicit the same sort of fervor as his female characters. And with such indelible women as Blanche DuBois, Amanda Wingfield, and Maggie the Cat, among others, it's easy to see how their male counterparts tend to get overshadowed by such towering creations. Especially when they've been brought to life by such sublime actresses as Vivien Leigh, Cate Blanchett, Jessica Lange, Cherry Jones, Elizabeth Taylor, and Scarlett Johansson. There are exceptions, of course, Stanley Kowalski immediately comes to mind, but outside of Brando's performance do you ever hear him mentioned in quite the same way as that play's ladies? Even at the most recent production of The Glass Menagerie on Broadway in which Zachary Quinto's performance as Tennessee Williams stand-in, Tom, gained some of the play's best reviews, he still found himself as the odd man out when it came to Tony recognition. Once again upstaged by the Williams women.

For this week's edition of Hit Me With Your Best Shot from Nathaniel at The Film Experience we took on the film adaptation of a Tennessee Williams One-Act that became the gonzo Southern Gothic melodrama Suddenly, Last Summer. You name it, this movie's got it - cannibals, predatory gays, lobotomies, suggestive swimwear, and a couple of Oscar-nominated performances from two of Classic Hollywood's finest actresses (domineering Katharine Hepburn as the WASP-iest Southern Grand Dame ever to grace the screen and the buxom Elizabeth Taylor going off the deep end magnificently) that perpetuate the long-standing Williams womanly tradition. But as campy and delicious as those two turns were, I kept getting drawn into the sad eyes of Montgomery Clift as the observant Dr. Cukrowicz. Not necessarily for the performance he was giving (because those ladies were overpowering him) but because Monty himself suddenly seemed like one of Willimas' women - so lost and fragile. As delicate as Laura in Glass Menagerie, capable of breaking at any moment.

There had always been something softer about Montgomery Clift. Beneath the manly visage of the star, there was always a haunted quality and a femininity married to his masculinity. But after the car crash that almost left him for dead (saved only by kindred spirit Elizabeth Taylor - who certainly knew about suffering. Husband Mike Todd died just before filming of this movie, allowing her to access a well of emotions for her impassioned monologues), Clift seemed to become a shell of himself. Retreating into alcohol and drugs to numb the pain, it has been noted that his life after the accident was the longest suicide in Hollywood history.

He was such a liability that he couldn't even get insured for the film's production. He only appeared in it at the insistence of Taylor, who used her power as the biggest box office draw to secure Monty a job. And as the two actresses spend most of the film in elaborate soliloquies, Monty silently listens, taking in what they say but not completely registering entirely what is happening around him.

After he meets Hepburn's Violet Venable in her late son Sebastian's primitive jungle (complete with Venus Fly Trap, naturally), she goes on and on about her poet son and as she describes him, Monty begins to become the stand-in for him. We never once see Sebastian's face, even during Catherine's flashback as to what happened and perhaps because Monty was also gay in real-life, the connection seems natural. When the truth is learned and Violet suddenly seems to be the one to lose her own mind, she even mistakes Monty's doctor to be her dead son. Not to say that Monty was devoured by a pack of ravenous boys as Sebastian was, but he was devoured just the same.

Right before Monty leaves the house on his first visit, he and Violet stop in front of a statue of the Angel of Death, a macabre yet grotesquely beautiful winged skeleton. Violet looks out over the prehistoric plants that populate the setting,

"Millions of years ago, dinosaurs fed on the leaves of these trees. They were vegetarians. That's why they became extinct. They were just too gentle for their size. Then the carnivores, the ones that eat flesh - the killers - inherited the earth. But then they always do, don't they..."

Monty is left alone looking bewildered (but after a half an hour of Hepburn's rants on birds of death, fly-eating plants, and a mother/son relationship that seems a little too close for comfort, bewildered is probably putting it mildly). Even though her words are about her son and foreshadow the fate of Sebastian, it's hard not to read into it in regards to Monty's own life. Monty's own demons were carnivorous, chasing him the way the wild pack would Sebastian, and as the grinning skull looks down on the actor, foreshadowing his own untimely demise, it was not the character in the film that looked adrift, but the actor himself. He would only live another 7 years after this film was made, finally unable to outrun his own demons. Perhaps he never stood a chance to begin with. Like a Tennessee Williams heroine, he was too gentle for this world.