Rinaldo

Though I don't think it's as hilarious a comedy as Ben does, I'm a bit surprised that this movie isn't a regular feature of the TCM schedule. It's essentially a pop quiz for faithful viewers to identify the sources of scenes from old movies.

For some of those years I didn't have a driver's license. Then followed my college (and miliarty-band, as aforementioned) years. But from 1980 through 1982 I was living back in Chicagoland, and I made constant use of the rep theaters that were flourishing then, in Chicago and Evanston. That's when I first saw Singin' in the Rain, The Band Wagon, It's Always Fair Weather, Touch of Evil, and many more. It was probably my biggest catch-up period before we began getting national channels dedicated to old movies. Youngsters may not realize how hard it was to see a special classic film in those days; for instance, knowing She Loves Me, I was desperate to see The Shop Around the Corner, but only TCM gave me the opportunity to do that.

I'm a Chicago boy, and those movies did show up on TV -- but I wasn't always there at the right time to see them. The old ones didn't play in primetime, but late at night, or at odd times on odd channels during the weekend. And others in the family had things they wanted to watch too, and I wasn't always inclined (or when I was younger, allowed) to stay up for the late show. (And during the late 60s, my undergrad years, I indeed didn't have access to TV -- none of us did during the semester, unless we wanted to hang out in the dorm common room, and we were too busy for that.) So my viewing was spotty. Let's see: older movies I remember catching on TV in early days would include Rebecca (I'd read the book so I was curious), The Women, The Green Man, The Happiest Days of Your Life (loved that one), All About Eve, probably more. In high school after reading the book we were shown A Midsummer Night's Dream, Of Human Bondage (not the Bette Davis one), and others. And as an undergrad the local "art" cinema and on-campus showings caught me up with early Bergman, Citizen Kane, etc. But of course most evenings were devoted to studying, or practicing my instrument, and weekend evenings we'd see the new movies. Leisure time didn't really open up till my military service started, and that's when I went nuts with the rep theaters.

Mine too, with a few details altered. From 1970 through 1972 I lived near DC (playing in an army band) and for the first time had access to repertory cinemas (the Circle and all its offshoots) that changed bills every night. Finally I could encounter the old movies I'd only read about before. Those were the years when I first saw Casablanca, The Maltese Falcon, The Lost Weekend, The Thin Man, Topper, From Here To Eternity, and so many more including (despite what people still try to say, it was never out of circulation) The Manchurian Candidate. Those years started the habit that hasn't stopped yet.

TCM isn't just about the masterpieces, there's also the trash to be remembered.

I know he's mostly familiar as a well-aged (apparently well-loved by viewers) eccentric type these days, but I have no difficulty remembering him as one of the exciting young actors of the Steppenwolf Theatre Company in Chicago. I had moved back to the Chicago area in 1980, and from then until my departure in 1982 I saw their productions often, and came to know that stunning ensemble (who were also the company's bosses) well, in one play after another. What a group they were! Original members Malkovich, Jeff Perry, Gary Sinise, Laurie Metcalf, and Terry Kinney had by that time been joined by Joan Allen, Glenne Headly, John Mahoney, Gary Cole, and many more, in various combinations in different plays. They were nearly all in Lanford Wilson's Balm in Gilead, which Malkovich directed brilliantly and which featured Laurie Metcalf's mind-blowing 20-minute monologue that people are still talking about. (I'm one of 'em.) It immediately told me in 1980 that she was one of our finest actresses, and it's still true.

Last weekend's noir, The Velvet Touch, is an intriguing movie -- maybe not 100% successful at what it attempts, but i'm glad I saw it. Partially financed by Rosalind Russell, in search of a vehicle that would keep her career moving in gratifying directions, it stars her, Claire Trevor, Leon Ames, and Leo Genn... and Sydney Greenstreet, who joins the story halfway through as the enigmatic police detective (Columbo-like, as Eddie Muller remarked). Russell plays a theater star who wants to move from her established stage persona and her old lover to new examples of both. Tragedy, essentially accidental, sends it all into new directions, and one of the characteristic features is the placing of a very long flashback sequence right near the start of it all. Another is the chance to see several scenes from Hedda Gabler, the star's new vehicle and a source of considerable suspense in the final minutes. It perhaps gets a little overwrought, with everyone going on about "fate" as if they had been told what kind of movie they're in. But its 100 minutes move along smoothly enough to minimize such concerns. A distinctive little item.

Probably almost everyone reacts that way in these post-Zeffirelli days; I do too. But I find it fascinating to think about how reactions have changed since the days it was made. I've just looked up some of the original reviews (in the NY Times and Time), and none of them mention the principal actors' ages as a deterrent in their extremely laudatory reviews. Now, I'm not an expert in reviews of that period in those publications; maybe they were always polite about big expensive studio productions. But there was a standard saying then (maybe still?): "by the time an actress is able to play Juliet well, she's too old for the part." They seem to have preferred to have someone with the skills, and not worried much about the age factor, as long as she fit the accepted standards of beauty. That was the era when Katharine Cornell toured the country as Juliet, culminating with a Broadway run when she was 41, without any dissent on grounds of age. Now we want the age to be right above all. I'm not saying one way is better than the other. I'm not even sure I have a point. But priorities do seem to have shifted. Probably the way we see this particular play has shifted irrevocably too. (And again, I'm right there with everyone else. I don't want to see a new R&J with parental-aged stars.) What are people's favorite Shakespeare films? Vacillating between the two Much Ado About Nothing movies from recent decades, I think I might instead go for Trevor Nunn's Twelfth Night. It got rather negative reviews for some reason, but I think it's terrific.

Last night (Wednesday) the theme was Shakespeare, a very welcome one for me. (Some of my friends have managed to see all 39 plays onstage; I'm at about half that, though I've seen some of those in multiple productions.) These were a nice varied choice too, 4 different decades and two each from Hollywood and UK. I'm well familiar with all of these, and for most of them watched only to see whatever intros and postludes they supplied. The two that come first chronologically aren't favorites of mine: this is probably a majority opinion in the case of the MGM Romeo and Juliet (with the proviso that it's beautifully designed and staged, and that several of the supporting players are admirable -- for me, that includes John Barrymore's fascinatingly old-school Mercutio), but not the Olivier Hamlet. Laurence Olivier himself is always worth a careful watch in whatever he filmed, but I'm unconvinced by his eviscerating of the play while allowing long wordless sequences of camera movement. He gave it a look and feel all its own, for sure, but one that I can't buy -- even in this abbreviated version, Hamlet is not "the story of a man who could not make up his mind." Of the participants, I especially like Stanley Holloway as the Gravedigger and William Walton, the composer. But I think Kenneth Branagh and even, in his oddball way, Franco Zeffirelli captured more of the play on film; and Olivier directed better films of Shakespeare earlier, with the fabulous Henry V (possibly my favorite 1940s movie, even with the irresistible competition from Hollywood in that decade), and later, with the highly entertaining Richard III. What a shame he didn't get to film his legendary Macbeth, which he played onstage with Vivien Leigh. No quibbles about the Branagh Henry V, not better than the Olivier but equal to it, and with a wonderful cast top to bottom. And I've changed my mind in my old age about the Mankiewicz Julius Caesar. Despite its mixture of acting styles -- Gielgud's classic rhetoric, Brando's inner-directed focus, Mason's quiet command of the camera -- it works for me. A fitting conclusion to the evening.

@EtheltoTillie, I think we were intended to catch on a little earlier than she (but only a little). At least, that's how it worked out for me. Maybe you did better than I did.

Mostly because of @Charlie Baker's recommendation, I've just caught up with Woman [not "Women" as my onscreen guide would have it] on the Run. I don't automatically fall down and admire every noir that comes along, but this was a good one. And different from others, being in large part the story of a woman's rediscovery of her love for her husband, and being shot mostly on location in San Francisco. The mixing of the final streak of suspense with a character being trapped on a roller coaster feels a bit like a Hitchcock setpiece, and the fadeout does feel (as our hosts said) a bit Wellesian. I'm very glad I saw it.

Tony (or Anthony, as he was billed until around 1970) had an extensive Broadway career, beginning as the guy who dated or was married to "the girl" in the typical light comedies of those years (with the true lead role being her put-upon father, as in Take Her She's Mine, Never Too Late, Don't Drink the Water). Often he was a replacement later in the run, taking over for Robert Redford in Barefoot in the Park, for Jerry Orbach in Promises Promises, for Robert Klein in They're Playing Our Song, and much later for Jason Alexander's narrator/multicharacter role in Jerome Robbins' Broadway. I think the only time I actually saw him onstage was in Sugar, the musical adaptation of Some Like It Hot in 1972. He and Robert Morse were supposedly equal-billed as the men who join the all-girl band, but Morse was shamelessly playing to the audience as Daphne, so Roberts inevitably faded into the background a bit by staying in character as Jo. He kept going on Broadway (and surely acted on other stages too) to 2009, in a full range of roles from farce to classic drama (Chekhov), musicals and boulevard comedies, specifically Jewish (Sisters Rosensweig, Cabaret) or not. Never quite a star (despite getting some leading roles), he leaves a considerable legacy.

I remember when I first became aware of Gene Hackman (Bonnie and Clyde and then I Never Sang for My Father), I said something like, "He's such a good actor, and he'll probably never have a big career because he doesn't 'look like a movie star'." Wow, I'm an amazing predictor, huh? 🙄 I do that kind of idiocy again and again; I remember also recalling "Farrah Fawcett was promoted as the Big New Thing in Myra Breckinridge... boy, that's a career that went nowhere" (and two months later Charlie's Angels happened), and "I keep seeing Don Johnson in these nothing movies, I guess the ship has sailed on the possibility of stardom for him" (and the following year we got Miami Vice), and "That Ted Danson was memorable in his bits in The Onion Field and Body Heat, and he's not bad-looking, but apparently he's never going to make that step to leading roles" (you guessed it; immediately after I said it, Cheers). I take pride in being the worst predictor ever.

Oh, but I can't be bummed by the return of 31 Days of Oscar! https://www.tcm.com/articles/Programming Article/021882/31-days-of-oscar This year, as catalogued in the article, it's yet another method of organization: shared nomination category during the day, shared character category evenings and overnight. I'm especially looking forward to Oscar-Worthy [I refuse to give up my hyphen for compound adjectives] Prostitutes, Patients, Alcoholics, and Heiresses. I'm ready and waiting.

I can't recall details, but I seem to remember that there have been some similar instances. (Aside of course from "Noir Alley," which gives us a preview of Sunday morning's feature the night before.) In some cases a title that they've procured fits two different days' themes, so they use it for both. Waste not, want not.