- INGRID BERGMAN “Murder on the Orient Express”
- VALENTINA CORTESE “Day for Night”
- MADELINE KAHN “Blazing Saddles”
- DIANE LADD “Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore”
- TALIA SHIRE “The Godfather Part II”
Movies, Actresses, Actors & Other Things... A collaborative project between Canadian Ken & StinkyLulu.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
1974 : The Overlooked
Over at StinkyLulu’s (where supporting actresses get top billing) 74 is the magic number this month - 1974 to be precise. Which means the smackdowners have weighed in on another crop of nominees:
1974 : The Overlooked - WENDY HILLER & RACHEL ROBERTS in “Murder on the Orient Express”
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“My …dok … tor… has … advised … against …it.”
Though never less than dignified, she’s also a riot – Edith Evans struggling to contain her inner Don Rickles. When Lauren Bacall complains that a man entered her compartment to gain access to the adjoining one, Dragimiroff pipes up from the sidelines with antique solemnity:
“I … can … think .. of … no … other … reason.”
And, oh yes, when the princess finally does bestow one of those medically prohibited smiles on us, Hiller makes very sure it’s a thing of beauty.
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1974 : The Overlooked - MILDRED NATWICK in “Daisy Miller”
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Of course, it’s an ordeal to watch Cybill Shepherd clobbering her way through Henry James. A giant toadstool of a performance. And even in the lovely 19th century gowns, she still looks like a linebacker. (Where, oh where, was Leigh Taylor-Young when we needed her?). The film’s hard-pressed to survive a disastrous Daisy. But it manages. Because “Daisy Miller” has so many other things going for it. Fine script, handsome production, excellent leading man (Barry Brown) and bell-ringing supporting turns from a pair of illustrious ladies.
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To her, the concept of upward mobility stands in utter – and idiotic – defiance of the laws of – not just propriety – but gravity. The lady sees no need to deliberate about things that are self-evident. But, for all Mrs. Costello’s inflexibility, Natwick makes our experience with her quite pleasant. And narrow though her viewpoint may be, she does make some awfully penetrating observations. The lady doles out her dialogue one silver spoonful at a time – never giving us quite as much as we want. Thanks to Henry James, Mrs. Costello has a way with words. Which is the very least one can say in praise of Mildred Natwick.
1974 : The Overlooked - EILEEN BRENNAN in “Daisy Miller”
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Daisy Miller presents a threat – on several levels – to Mrs. Walker’s peace of mind. She’s young and pretty. Check. Winterbourne’s evidently smitten. Double check. She’s also a wild card. Doesn’t play by the rules. Rocks the boat in unexpected ways. Triple check. Even Mrs. Walker’s smooth expertise as a hostess is jangled by Daisy’s pop-up non-sequiturs. Not to mention the willy-nilly antics of Daisy’s mother and brother. The whole family interferes with the rhythm of things – and the predictable rhythm of society is what Mrs. Walker depends on.
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She does return at the end for a prominent appearance at the funeral. But she’s not there to mourn. Rather, to put a period on Daisy’s inconvenient story. Another hole in the dike has been successfully plugged. To Mrs. Walker, Daisy’s death is not a tragedy. Just another confirmation that failure to keep up appearances leads to inevitable doom. Actual – and more importantly – social.
1974 : The Overlooked - MADELINE KAHN in “Young Frankenstein”
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The sheer provocative power of Mary Shelley’s 1818 novel has stood the test of time. I’ve studied it in two separate university literature courses over the years – and both times this was the book that prompted the most animated , prolonged and passionate in-class discussion. There’s something elemental here – and Brooks and Wilder found a way to put a comic spin on it while still preserving just enough of the story’s melancholy majesty. Their script is diamond-sharp. Rich and thoughtful. But gut-bustingly funny too. The success ratio of the gags in the picture is really pretty astounding.
The cast, of course, is classic. Gene Wilder’s quirky, endearing presence is a perfect fit, Teri Garr’s the flakiest of strudels (“Put … the …candle … back.”). Cloris Leachman makes domestic gorgon Frau Blucher the centrepiece of a surprisingly hilarious running gag about terrified horses. And of all the actors who’ve played the Frankenstein monster in the movies, only Karloff surpasses Peter Boyle. What happened to HIS nomination? Even a couple of non-castings add to the picture’s overall quality. Thank goodness Brooks regular Harvey Korman didn’t get his hands on the Lionel Atwill role. He’d have mangled it. I’m no great fan of Kenneth Mars. But he rises to the occasion with some very funny line readings:
“A riot ees an ugly theeng – unt I theenk eet ees jest about time ve hed vun.”
Not to mention his deft manipulations of the Hand. And somehow Mel Brooks resisted the temptation of grabbing a role for himself. As it is, the Borscht Belt schtick bubbles along at just the right pace.. And putting Brooks, with his inherently pushy, abrasive onscreen persona, into the mix might possibly have gummed things up a bit. But he wisely concentrated all his energies off-camera – and to tremendous effect. “Young Frankenstein”’s his masterpiece.
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“Would you want me like this – now - so soon before our wedding – so near we can almost touch it?”
Yes, Madeline, we want you now.
Monday, November 06, 2006
1982: The Overlooked -- SANDAHL BERGMAN in Conan the Barbarian
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I would have bet money that Arnold Schwarzenegger would never make it as a film star.
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An awesome work ethic had helped propel him to the top of the body-building world. And he brought the same dedication and focus to his work in “Conan”. He’s really good with the heavy archaic weapons and props, achieving a kind of resolute fluidity one would never have thought possible in him. Schwarzenegger was not a man to be underestimated. He knew how to keep his eye on the prize, an ability that eventually led him to success in some pretty unexpected real-life arenas.
As far as his film career goes, it was the success of “Conan” that gave him movie star credibility with the public. And provided him entrĂ©e into other big-budget assignments. “Terminator”, “Total Recall”, “True Lies” – these all came later. But it’s “Conan” that got the juggernaut rolling.
Secondary casting in the film’s effective too. The picture opens explosively with the ambush that destroys Conan’s village and uproots him. The boy wordlessly playing young Conan is no stick figure. He’s expressive and affecting. The actors portraying his parents have only the briefest of opportunities to make an impact. But they concentrate so much charisma, character and intensity into those fleeting moments that their deaths are genuinely wrenching. Max Von Sydow brings a plummy authority to his single scene as a cantankerous king, hamming it up in all the right ways. The over-familiar James Earl Jones, villain of the piece, is given a look so striking – long straight hair and icy blue contacts, nicely augmented with some quirky reptilian moves of his own – that never once do the words “Verizon Wireless” cross your mind.
Terrific and unusual locations combine with spectacular art direction to create a massively believable fantasy world. Check out the pervasive twining motifs adorning the snake cult temples. Not since Alessandro Blasetti’s wild 1941 masterpiece “La Corona di Ferro” had so many mythic visual/cultural elements been mixed into such a dizzy and satisfying swirl. The physical solidity of the whole production reverberates with the ringing clang of hammer on anvil. That’s reflected in Basil Poledouris’ rousing neo-barbaric score, too. All resounding brass and thundering timpani. He occasionally borrows from the choral style of “Carmina Burana” – totally appropriate here. Elsewhere he daubs the landcape with a mix of primal colors and elegant pastels. Enriching and enhancing an already heady experience.
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Decisions have to be taken instantaneously on both sides. Pros and cons are weighed in a heartbeat. Valeria’s actually a little better equipped for the caper. She knows about the inner workings of the tower. Conan can profit from her knowledge. She can use the extra brawn. Without actually articulating it, they join forces. Swiftness is all-important – and Valeria’s participation proves essential in pulling off the heist. Like Schwarzenegger, Bergman had obviously committed to the fight training. But her aptitude’s even greater than his. It’s one of the film’s joys to see her grace and urgency of movement applied to some really breathtaking fight choreography and swordsmanship.
Once inside, they overcome a horde of bad guys, battle a spectacular (non CG) giant snake and snatch the jewel. The whole sequence rattles along with crackling panache. They’re off – with the enraged snake cultists in hot pursuit. And now they’re a team. A montage – and now they’re lovers. And, what do you know, it’s convincing. The movie really does capture the exhilarating feeling of lives led separately. colliding suddenly in the night and changing forever. There’s scarcely time to breathe and the adventure hurtles on. But now there’s a new equation – constellations have re-aligned, the earth’s axis has shifted.
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“I have never had so much as now.
All my life I’ve been alone.
Many times I’ve faced my death with no one to know.
I would look into the huts and the tents of others in the coldest dark.
And I would see figures holding each other in the night.
But I always passed by.
You and I have warmth.
That’s so hard to find in this world.
Please let someone else pass by in the night.”
All my life I’ve been alone.
Many times I’ve faced my death with no one to know.
I would look into the huts and the tents of others in the coldest dark.
And I would see figures holding each other in the night.
But I always passed by.
You and I have warmth.
That’s so hard to find in this world.
Please let someone else pass by in the night.”
Conan, obsessively dedicated to his quest and reluctant to put Valeria in danger, slips away in the night, leaving her behind. Bergman’s out of the picture for a long stretch now, that absence underlining her status as a supporting rather than leading player in the film. But just as Conan’s about to expire from an especially imaginative crucifixion, she returns in the nick of time to save him. And you can imagine a theatre full of kids erupting with thunderous hoots and hollers. The cavalry’s arrived! She literally wills him back to life with a pledge to the gods that seals her own fate.
She builds on the effect of her previous speech with another one, so embedded in her role that every line sounds as if her life depends on it.
“If I were dead and you were still fighting for life
I’d come back from the darkness
Back from the pit of Hell
And fight by your side.”
I’d come back from the darkness
Back from the pit of Hell
And fight by your side.”
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This memorable appearance seemed to forecast a long and interesting career to come. For whatever reasons, it never materialized. I remember excitedly setting out to see her in a 1982 version of Rider Haggard’s “She”. I’d always loved the book – movies had never done right by it. And of course I was sky-high on Bergman, post-Conan.. What a disappointment! A tattered quickie that chose to relocate the story to a post-apocalyptic (i.e. no budget) setting, then just kept the camera rolling, untended. It came across like one of those reality show challenges (“You have $500 and 48 hours to make a full-length adventure movie in the city dump. Your time starts now.”). It’s a set-up that would have defeated the combined resources of the entire Redgrave family. In the circumstances, all Bergman could do was grit her teeth and get through it. A couple of years later she turned up in the “Conan”-ish “Red Sonja”. It at least represented a return to mainstream moviemaking. Purportedly, Bergman turned down the title role, choosing instead to play the villainess. It may have seemed a good decision on paper. But the results were less than gratifying. Arnold Schwarzenegger seemed under-invested in his role, probably recognizing it correctly as not a milestone – but a minor hiccup – in his march to success. The talents of leading lady Brigitte Nielsen began and ended with swordplay. And she soon settled for brief tabloid notoriety and, eventually, a particularly tacky residence on “The Surreal Life”.
As for Bergman (brunette this time out), she lacked the villainous flair of, say, Faye Dunaway. The clearwater tones she’d used to project Valeria’s forthrightness seemed inappropriate. The wicked queen needed deeper, more insidious bottom notes and a much more theatrical flourish.
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Academy members had their noses in the air when they ignored Bergman’s Valeria at nomination time. But in my own personal alternate universe, she stands as one of the great fantasy film creations – superb role model, fierce fighter, the loyal friend we’d all love to have watching our backs and – no doubt about it – one of the five supporting actress nominees of 1982.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
1982: The Overlooked -- LAINIE KAZAN in My Favorite Year
LAINIE KAZAN in My Favorite Year
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Major credit’s due to director Richard Benjamin, who made a series of very wise choices. One of which was the brilliant use of Nat Cole’s thrilling version of “Stardust” to open the picture. The arrangement’s achingly beautiful, priming us for an experience that uses comedy as an integral part of something warmer and richer.
But it was in the casting that Benjamin really hit 24 karat paydirt. Peter O’Toole was a pluperfect fit as Allan Swann, the ruefully boisterous, disaster-prone and ultimately endearing swashbuckler, Mark Linn-Baker, a terrific new discovery as Benjy, the junior writer assigned to bring him back alive –and sober. Joseph Bologna is beyond wonderful – way beyond – as King Kaiser, a Sid Caesar style TV star. Wrapped in a sort of cagey befuddlement, dispatching insanely inappropriate gifts to his staff and – in the end – game for anything. It’s a brilliant, one-of-a-kind creation. Caesar himself couldn’t have hoped for a warmer, funnier tribute. And it’s absolutely unfawning. [Aside from Bologna, the field of potential supporting actor candidates in ’82 was astonishing – Mickey Rourke(Diner), Rutger Hauer (Blade Runner) , Jack Warden (The Verdict). Amazingly, not one of them was even nominated. But I’d say they could have mass-produced the trophy that year and given each of these guys one of his own.] My Favorite Year also spotlights uproarious turns from veteran Cameron Mitchell, a grimly funny gangster and frog-in-her-throat wardrobe lady Selma Diamond. Plus a lovely bit from 30’s star and future Titanic icon Gloria Stuart.
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He should be a doctor or a lawyer.
He should marry a nice Jewish girl.
He should EAT! EAT!
For me, it’s a stereotype with plenty of mileage left in it. Unlike, say, the bimbo chorine of Victor/Victoria. Getting laughs out of that one is like trying to squeeze them out of a Brillo pad. Chances of extracting honest-to-goodness sentiment from it are even slimmer. But it’s different with a Jewish mother. The possibilities for hitting a chord are there in spades. After all, Jewish or not, most of us have done a lot more interacting with mothers than with chorus girls.
Whatever the case, Kazan surveys the territory, decides there’s gold in them thar hills and proceeds to mine it with pick, shovel, dynamite and a little seltzer. She’s Hurricane Belle, bulldozing Benjy into hauling celebrity Swann out to her Brooklyn lair for a family dinner. The potential for a disastrous collision of incongruities never enters her mind. Because, when all’s said and done, Belle’s proud of herself and her brood. And sees no reason why Swann shouldn’t take a shine to them too.
She and Benjy operate not just as mother and son, but as a well-oiled comedy duo, too, with Mom the inevitable top banana. Kazan’s Belle emerges with door-filling grandeur, the hostess gown she’s stuffed into a compelling argument against the theory that black is slimming. But that just qualifies her all the more to preside over the dinner party. It’s her big showpiece.
She’s clearly proud of her Benjy. But that doesn’t stop her from swatting away his opinions and asides, treating them like heckling mosquitos at a Catskills picnic.
Belle: “Welcome to my little chapeau”
Benjy: “Two years at the Sorbonne and she still can’t get that one right.”
Her kingdom’s a matriarchy and she sends out maternal rays that entangle the evening like the arms of an amiable octopus. O’Toole’s Swann recognizes her for what she is. Exasperatingly loveable. With no hidden agenda. Belle’s agendas are all spread out on the table like a gargantuan canasta hand. “Swanee”, she calls him, leaning in with conspiratorial splendor to ladle out advice. By the end of the dinner party, she’s taken the whole movie on a sidetrip to another galaxy. And when Swann leaves the building, he’s more or less carried along by the whole delightfully preposterous population of Planet Belle.
It’s worth pointing out that’82 saw Kazan adding further luster to her reputation as a dynamic new comic talent. And she managed to do it in one of the year’s ultra-bombs, Coppola’s epic miscalculation One From the Heart. She’s heroine Teri Garr’s best friend – and the one and only source of fun in the whole weary soundstage wasteland. Kazan plays Maggie, plus-size travel agent/cocktail waitress - forever handing out common-sense advice, none of which she’s able to apply to her own shambles of a social life.
The picture’s art-directed to extinction. And suffocates under the weight of Tom Waits’ gloomy songs, which course turgidly through the film like embalming fluid. I mean, imagine putting Lainie Kazan into a musical film and then not letting her sing!. As a musical, the film only works during a brief, silhouetted tango - tightly choreographed and expertly danced by Garr and Raul Julia. A big, misbegotten production number on the "streets” of Las Vegas is an all-out embarrassment – like a conga line breaking out at a funeral.
But bobbing in and out of the picture – all too infrequently – Kazan somehow dodges the stun-gun pellets that level everyone around her. Whether hysterically heading out at 3 a.m. to meet some bum, or extending an eloquent arm from her door to reel in consolation prize Harry Dean Stanton, she’s a keeper.
But it’s Belle in My Favorite Year that gave Lainie Kazan her definitive showcase. And it’s the Kazan performance that was widely seen in ’82. People still nod fondly when it’s mentioned. It’s become her signature role. She even reprised it in a Broadway musical version of the film some years later. How she eluded an Oscar nomination is anybody’s guess. But it’s a performance that's lived on. And I wouldn’t be a bit surprised to learn that 1982 stands as Lainie Kazan’s own favorite year.
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