Lady of Burlesque

Lady of Burlesque
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Well, I certainly didn’t expect a murder mystery from a movie titled Lady of Burlesque! Maybe I should’ve looked at the poster first. This one was kinda hard to follow for three reasons: a huge cast, with most of them talking a mile a minute, and in a hipster lingo from almost a century ago. It was worth it, though, to see Barbara Stanwyck shaking her moneymaker!

The history of burlesque dancing is a long one, covering much of world history, cultural mores, fashion, etc. Here’s a Cliff Notes version written by modern burlesque dancer Dita von Teese. For this post, we need to focus on one dancer in particular.

Gypsy Rose Lee was exposed to showbiz early in life. To support the family, she performed in vaudeville, dancing with her older sister, June Havoc, as kids. When June eloped, GRL was able to continue solo as a striptease artist. The legend has it that she chose this path when she had a wardrobe malfunction one night on stage that turned in her favor. She added humor to her act and became a star, performing as part of the Minsky Brothers’ burlesque show in New York.

Those dancing feet of Ruby Keeler

The 2020 O Canada Blogathon is an event devoted to Canadian actors and films, hosted by Speakeasy and Silver Screenings. For a list of participating bloggers, visit the links at either site.


Ruby Keeler was an established Broadway dancer, the child bride of the legendary hoofer Al Jolson, when in 1933, film producer Darryl Zanuck, then with Warner Brothers, came to her with a role in a movie. It was a musical about Broadway called 42nd Street.

Keeler, born in Halifax, Nova Scotia and raised in New York City, had been a professional dancer since the age of 14, in shows produced by, among others, Florenz Ziegfeld—and other than a brief cameo in a talkie in 1930, had no film experience. As a member of Zanuck’s production, Keeler would meet a man who would prove influential to her career, both as an ingenue in film and an veteran many years later back on Broadway: choreographer Busby Berkeley.

Mambo with the Honeymooners!

The Honeymooners Blogathon is an event dedicated to the CBS television show starring Jackie Gleason, hosted by Movie Movie Blog Blog II. For a list of participating bloggers, visit the link at the host site.

Earlier this year, I discovered for the first time that The Honeymooners only had one season. All those great episodes, those hilarious moments embedded into our collective unconscious from years of late-night viewings and holiday marathons, constituted a single season on TV?

Hard to believe, but it’s true: all 39 episodes—not counting the sketches from Jackie Gleason’s previous series, Cavalcade of Stars and The Jackie Gleason Show, nor the periodic revivals that came afterward—aired during the 1955-56 season and that was it... but what a run!

Picking one episode to talk about is like picking which Beatles song you like best, but I settled on one that not only features all four stars, but defines their roles well and even has one or two things to say about men and women.

Fred Astaire

When I was somewhere around ten or eleven, I went to a bar mitzvah for this kid I knew, Howard. Our fathers were co-workers and mutual friends. There was a reception afterward, in which there was much music and dancing.

Howard and I were friends, too, though we rarely saw each other. He had a sister, Susan, though for once I wasn't attracted to her. I doubt I even thought of her in those terms, though if memory serves, she was good-looking.

Anyway, at this reception, I felt like letting my hair down for once and I danced a lot. I'm not sure, but I think I might have been slightly self-conscious about it beforehand, and I might have conveyed this to Howard and/or Susan, because weeks later, I got a card from Susan thanking me for coming, in which she specifically complimented my dancing. You can imagine how good that made me feel.

To be a great dancer was an occasional childhood fantasy of mine. Naturally, Michael Jackson was my inspiration. My pals and I vogued at our high school prom, but sadly, I don't recall any slow dancing I might have done with my girlfriend. Maybe I didn't know how; maybe I didn't wanna embarrass myself in front of the guys; I don't remember for sure, and I wish I could. I must have slow danced with her, though.

In college, I was into grunge, and that meant moshing, which doesn't involve any particular talent - just a certain ruggedness and a high threshold for pain. Surviving the pit at a Lollapalooza remains a favorite music-related memory.

Astaire with frequent cinematic
dance partner Ginger Rogers

My most romantic dancing memory involves a girl I've told you about before. It was at her house. While she was away for a moment, I browsed through her CDs and spotted a CD single of Sarah McLachlan's "Angel," as beautiful a song as you're likely to hear. When she came back, I put the CD on and asked her to dance. I wasn't embarrassed about it this time.

I held my arms out, expecting to dance the way they do in the movies, with one arm around her waist and the other extended outward, holding her hand. To my surprise, though, she wrapped both her arms around me. I did the same to her and we didn't dance so much as move back and forth to the music. We didn't say anything. We didn't need to. When the song ended, we kissed. I'd have to say it was one of the most perfect moments in my entire life.

It's probably an old-fashioned fantasy to want to sweep a girl off her feet through dance - not John Travolta-in-Saturday Night Fever dancing, but with an orchestra playing, her in a fancy dress and me in a classy tux, the way Fred Astaire used to do. Of course, he was much more than a ballroom dancer; the man could also tap dance up a storm. I think most people, however, remember him best for those sensual, dreamy numbers he did with a variety of actresses throughout his spectacular career, especially in the ten films he made with Ginger Rogers.

In her book on marriage in the movies, I Do and I Don't, Jeanine Basinger talks about "love teams," a pairing of male and female actors over a course of different films that in the public's mind, linked the two romantically, on the screen if not in real life. Astaire and Rogers were one such team:

...Astaire and Rogers were the living metaphor of a perfect union, and they didn't have to play married to show it. Their swooning, yearning, swaying-like-two-chic-cobras romantic numbers spoke to audiences about desire, but also about a spectacularly balanced, perfectly beautiful physicality. Theirs was a marriage set to music, and their dance-floor coupling was real and romantic. (Fred and Ginger seldom kiss in their films. There's no need for it. Their sex life takes place when they have on their dancing shoes.)

Before Ginger, though, and Rita and Cyd and Leslie and all the rest, Astaire's first dance partner was his sister Adele. As kids they had a dance act that took them from vaudeville to Broadway and London. When Adele got married, the partnership broke up, and though he found solo success on Broadway, and eventually Hollywood, he was understandably reluctant to pair up with someone else on a regular basis again. The success of Astaire and Rogers in their first movie together, Flying Down to Rio, changed his mind, and the rest is history.

While there are a number of actors today who can dance, and dance well, none of them have made a career of it the way Astaire did, partly because musicals aren't as popular as they once were, but also because Astaire was unique. He belongs to the Old Hollywood era, the one closely tied to vaudeville and Broadway; where the hunger for the kind of glamour associated with RKO and MGM musicals was at its peak. Still, if the continued success of Dancing With the Stars is any indication, we still crave a touch of that kind of glamour, exemplified by the dancing of Fred Astaire.

Next: Cecil B. DeMille

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Movies with Fred Astaire:
Top Hat

Previously:
Jack Lemmon   Jean Arthur   Edward G. Robinson
Rita Moreno   Frank Capra   Bernard Herrmann

Joan Blondell   James Dean   Ethel Waters
William Powell   Tod Browning   Edith Head
Joel McCrea   Thelma Ritter   Douglas Fairbanks
Gloria Swanson   Robert Wise   Saul Bass
Ruby Dee   Vincent Price   Shelley Winters

Free-range organic links

Stolen from Page's collection. Don't tell her.

So I went to see Bridge of Spies at my local neighborhood theater, the Jamaica Multiplex, and I found that they have begun to search bags. To my knowledge, in the decade-plus that I've been going there, I don't recall them ever doing this before. Why now? The manager couldn't give me an answer other than "orders from high above," but I think we can take an educated guess. Anyway, I submitted to it, and I really regret doing that now. I think my reasoning was out of a misplaced sense of loyalty to my local theater. The more I thought about it, though, the more that struck me as weak.

Bottom line, I'm not going back to the Jamaica again. I've written a letter - an actual letter, not just an e-mail - to the theater's parent company, Showcase Cinemas (part of National Amusements Inc.) explaining why, not that I expect the big faceless corporation to care about losing one customer, but the act made me feel somewhat better. And the truth is that I can easily live without the Jamaica; there are other theaters in Queens I can go to, though they're a little further away.

Maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe I'm making this into something bigger than it actually should be. That's entirely possible, and if so, don't be afraid to tell me. Thing is, though, I still believe bag searches at movie theaters won't solve the bigger problem, which is gun control. Sooner or later someone in our government's gonna wake up and realize that the lack of it is too costly, in lives and money, to maintain much longer. But that's another rant.

source

I started to feel the relentless wave of Star Wars hype weeks ago and I really, really wish we could just fast-forward to December 18 and get it over with. It's no longer even a matter of whether it'll be good; it's just expected that you, your friends, your family, your dog, your teachers, your boss, and everyone you know will be talking about it at least, if they don't actually see it.

I know this is the new normal; I know this is how it's gonna be for Episodes VIII and IX, for the Avatar sequels, for Batman v. Superman and Zod knows what else is on the horizon and there's no point in complaining. 

But I'm complaining. I was in the supermarket recently, right, looking for a box of Honey Nut Cheerios. I found it, all right, but you know what? THE FRIGGIN' HONEY NUT CHEERIOS BEE WAS WEARING A DARTH VADER HELMET. That's how pervasive this has become, people. You can't fight it. You can only give in to it, like the Dark Side of the Force. Seriously, sometimes I think the movies are beside the point... but whatever. I'll have more to say about the whole thing when I write about Episode VII.

Got some more good stuff for you this month: two blogathons, two more profiles, the first post this year devoted to an animated film, and since I've already talked about the so-called worst film of all time, I'm also gonna talk about the so-called best film of all time - Citizen Kane. In addition, I've decided what I wanna do for the upcoming 1000th post. Now it's just a matter of arranging it. I hope to reach the milestone before Christmas, and as this is post number 980, I'd say I have a pretty good shot at that goal.

And if you're in the New York area, I'm gonna do another reading this month at Astoria Bookshop, on the 12th. Details here.

Your links for this month:

Aurora does the conga.

Raquel has this fine profile on Cesar Romero.

Jacqueline voyages on the Good Ship Lollipop with Shirley Temple.

Ivan is back! And he's got the lowdown on a new Carol Burnett Show DVD box set.

Retrospace has a bunch of Halloween-themed pics of classic film actresses.

I can't imagine why anyone would make a museum devoted to miniature film sets, but it exists, and it's pretty damn cool.

Check out these neon signs made from movie quotes.

William Shatner's coming out with a book about his friendship with Leonard Nimoy.

Okay, so the Cubs didn't make it to the World Series, but the 2015 of Back to the Future 2 is still kinda-sorta plausible.

Ethan Hawke, Alicia Keys and other celebs ran the NYC Marathon yesterday.

QWFF 2015 Day 2: They say it's your birthday

St. Patrick's Day always comes right before my birthday, but Tuesday night was the first time I had ever bothered to take advantage of it by getting drunk the night before. Who cares if everyone else is getting plastered for a completely different reason? I've always considered myself a kind of honorary Irish by virtue of being born the day after, anyway!

The crazy part is that it only took me one beer to get drunk! But that one beer looked like this. I think the bar where the Queens World Film Festival Opening Night after-party was held at was offering a special, but it was an odd one: either that one humongous beer or two smaller ones, and I couldn't get one now and the second later, so I bought the one big one and carried that mug around with me all night as I talked to old friends and made new ones. 

Long Island City,
where the Secret Theater is located

How did I get home? Well, I wasn't totally out of it. I was coherent enough to get on the train and then the bus, but what it came down to was that I told myself one thing, over and over: DON'T FALL DOWN.

Yesterday, I treated myself to a late lunch/early dinner before heading to Long Island City for Day 2. I had salmon. And that was the extent of my celebrating...

...because I had other plans. The Secret Theater in LIC once again hosts QWFF screenings. I wouldn't mind coming back here for something else one day, though it's easy to see what puts the "Secret" in Secret Theater: if you were walking past it, you'd think it was just another loading dock to a warehouse. Yes, despite all the development in LIC, there are still warehouses, and artists' spaces. My friend Nancy has an art studio there, not unlike what you'd see in SoHo or DUMBO.

I stayed for the first two movie blocks of the night; this is what I saw (Reminder for all you newbies: QWFF shows mostly short films, so they're arranged in "blocks," and the audience pays by the block and sees about an hour or two worth of short movies):

- Into the Dark. In the future, two prisoners shipped on a space-worthy vessel headed for their execution find the only comfort they can - in each other. It always amazes me how modern software technology can make outer space and computer graphics and spaceships look as slick as anything JJ Abrams can come up with, and that's the case here as well, but the story by writer-director-star Lukas Hassel is equally compelling. It's a one-man show, like recent films Buried and Locke, with all other characters off-screen, a format that I think works better for short(er) films like this one. Genre fans will dig it.

Filmmakers from the first block of films at the Secret Theater

- 4AM Gas Station Muzak. Heaven and hell compete for the soul of an ordinary guy just trying to put his life back together. Maybe a little too clever for its own good (did they really think that by showing an angel and demon playing chess together that we wouldn't think of Ingmar Bergman?), but it's still a game effort. Multi-cultural cast, nice use of location shooting in the California prairie, among other places, good editing.

- Reuber. From Germany comes this Gilliam-esque modern-day fairy tale, a bedtime story about a boy whose act of negligence leads him to run away into a magic forest with some bizarre characters. Like The Wizard of Oz, characters in the real-world framing sequence play double roles in the fairy tale, which is a nice touch, and there are funny moments, as you'd expect, but I thought it rambled far off course at times and wrapped up too neatly. Worth a look, though.

- Bright in Here. A one-night stand between two lesbian women on New Year's Eve. A nice character study, but that's about it. One would like to spend more time with these characters, though, to see where their relationship leads.

- Middle Man. At a tele-texting service for hearing-impaired people, a phone operator facilitates a conversation between two gay dudes trying to patch up their relationship. Clever premise, well-executed (although it took me awhile to figure out why one half of the couple didn't speak), but this is a Scottish film, with very, very thick Scottish accents. That, plus the fast pace of the dialogue made it difficult for this Yank to follow the story. Subtitles would help tremendously.

- Intrinsic Moral Evil. From the Netherlands, a very unusual short that's more of a performance video than a narrative, in which the concepts of homosexuality and youth are expressed in interpretive dance. Excellent cinematography and editing that uses the Zack-Snyder-slow-down-then-speed-up trick well. Quite fascinating and hypnotic.

Filmmakers from the second block of films

- Fire Island. Could the end of this marriage be decided by pure chance? Shot on location at the titular strip just off of Long Island (right before Hurricane Sandy hit!), the dodgy American accents by the actors were a distraction for me, but otherwise, it was okay. Good mix of comedy and drama.

- The Blood of Love. A woman goes to any and all lengths to keep her husband from dying of an unusual blood disorder. If there's one genre that QWFF has been far too short of over the years, it's horror, and this one had a good mix of gore and genuine drama. I was worried that the audience was laughing in places that weren't meant to be funny, but director Jeff Meyers said afterward that the laughs, intentional or not, didn't bother him.

- Remains. I'm sorry, but this Israeli drama about two gay guys bored the living hell out of me. I was already a little drowsy by this point in the night, but I swear, it seemed like all the characters did was bicker and I didn't care about either one of them - and of course it was the longest one in the block. Ugh.

More pictures from QWFF at my Tumblr page.

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Previously:
Day 1

Charlie Chan in Paris

The Sleuthathon is an event dedicated to the great cinematic detectives of the past, hosted by Movies Silently. For a list of participating bloggers, visit the host site.

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The Blind Spot is an ongoing series hosted by The Matinee in which bloggers watch and write about movies they've never seen before. For a list of past entries, visit the home site.

Charlie Chan in Paris
seen online via YouTube
3.13.14

Recently at the TCM blog, Movie Morlocks, there was a piece that discussed casting against race, gender or sexual orientation. This is an issue that has come up recently in relation to the Oscar-winning movie Dallas Buyers Club, specifically Jared Leto's portrayal of a trans woman, which has come under heavy criticism from various sources (though he has his defenders too). There was one incident in which Leto was openly challenged by a woman at a screening for taking such a part. Leto, to his credit, engaged her in conversation, but the resentment over his casting still lingers among some.

It's really difficult to judge when this sort of thing is appropriate and when it isn't, or if it ever is. I tend to think in some cases, I would rather see more movies that are rooted in the direct experiences of the "other," whether that other is black, Korean, disabled, lesbian, or what have you, as opposed to, for instance, substituting a minority character for a traditionally white character (why cast a black actor as the Human Torch in a Fantastic Four movie out of a misguided sense of political correctness when you can put that same actor in a Black Panther movie instead?).

At the same time, however, I can't deny that I have enjoyed certain movies with actors cast against race, gender or sexual orientation. Shakespeare, for example, has provided a number of opportunities for casting of this type, on the stage as well as in film, and no one complains. So like I said, this is not a situation with an easy solution. I honestly don't think there is one.

The Night I Danced at the Hollywood Canteen

The Classic Movie History Project Blogathon is an event in which participants examine a given year in movies from the Golden Age, hosted by Movies Silently, Silver Screenings and Once Upon a Screen. For a complete list of participating blogs, visit the links at these sites.

1942

Matthew got drafted for the war in April of 1942. Momma told me in a letter. By that time I was well into my Hollywood "career," and he and I had fallen out of touch with each other long ago. We had believed our little high school romance could still work, separated as we were by the miles and by my shifting priorities, but then again, my aunt Shirley warned me about long-distance relationships.

Truth is, though, I knew things were turning sour when I first told him I was leaving for Hollywood after graduation. He knew I had dreams that were bigger than our hometown of Aberdeen, Washington - dreams that he didn't quite share, no matter how supportive he tried to be. Did we love each other? Maybe. I've certainly thought about it now and again, over the years... but whatever it was we had, it wasn't enough. The promises we made to each other to write, to visit, to call, were built on a foundation of sand... and in my heart, I knew it. Maybe I did love Matthew.

But I loved showbiz a little bit more.

Cabaret

The 31 Days of Oscar Blogathon is an event coinciding with Turner Classic Movies' "31 Days of Oscar" month-long celebration, in observance of the Academy Awards. In both events, the theme is the same: recognition of Oscar-nominated films throughout history. The blogathon is hosted by Once Upon a Screen, Outspoken & Freckled, and Paula's Cinema Club. See the links above for a list of participating blogs.

Cabaret
seen on TV @ TCM
2.5.13

I've never been much for nightclubs. I can probably count the number I've been to on one hand. I'm not what you might call a social drinker, for one thing, and the kind of girls I'd be interested in (or more to the point: the kind of girls who might be interested in me) would not be found there. As for dancing, well, I remember going to a nightclub when I spent a summer in Barcelona. I tried to get into the spirit of things, but it didn't work. I just felt awkward and out of place and I ended up leaving early. (And before you say that it's a bad example, let me add that many people in Barcelona speak English and this club played mostly British and American pop music.)

But why make a spectacle of yourself when you can watch other people do so? I have a friend who once worked as a pole dancer. I never had the pleasure of seeing her at work, but I did go to her club once to pick her up, and I got a pretty good look at some of the other girls there. Sure, it's great eye candy at first, but after awhile, it's like, well, what do you really get out of it? Or am I over-analyzing as usual? (Though I suppose it also depends on context. The same kind of dancing at, say, Lincoln Center, would be called "art," would it not?)

I can get behind a striptease. That feels more involving. Like sex, it's a long build-up to a big payoff at the end, and it engages your imagination. (The brain, after all, is the biggest sex organ.) I've seen burlesque shows with stripteases and I've always gotten a big kick out of them. I even wrote a script for a comic about a striptease dancer, which I still hope to get off the ground one day.

Ultimately, though, nothing beats a good song and dance, which brings me to Cabaret. In terms of Oscar history, it's a bit of an odd duck - it took home eight Oscars, including Director, Actress, Supporting Actor and Editing, but lost Best Picture to The Godfather. There aren't many times when Picture and Director split, but when it does happen, it's always notable. This Oscar season, many pundits believe it will happen again, since current frontrunner Argo is shut out in the Director category.

Cabaret seemed like a sure thing to go all the way. In addition to its wins on Oscar night, it had won the Eddie for editing, the BAFTA (British Oscars) for Film and Director, the Golden Globe for Best Musical/Comedy, the National Board of Review awards for Film and Director and the Writers Guild award. Director Bob Fosse was also nominated for the Directors Guild award. 

The Godfather is perhaps the more revered movie of the two now, but it only won two other awards: Actor and Adapted Screenplay, losing head-to-head against Cabaret in two critical categories, Director and Editing. In total nominations, Godfather edged Cabaret 11-10, but three of those eleven nominations were all in one category, Supporting Actor.

The Director loss is especially surprising, since Francis Ford Coppola won the Director's Guild award, as well as the Golden Globe. Ben Affleck won the DGA for Argo, yet the Academy didn't even nominate him for a Director Oscar, which has made prognosticating this year's awards much more difficult than usual.

Still, Cabaret remains a remarkable work that pushed the boundaries in terms of what could be depicted on screen, with devastatingly subversive and memorable songs (that Nazi anthem always gives me chills). When TCM host Robert Osborne presented it, he mentioned that the film version deviates significantly from the original stage production, and yet the result is still compelling. That couldn't have been easy for Fosse and screenwriter Jay Allen - I mean, how do you decide what to cut and what to leave, especially when it's based on a Tony Award-winning musical?

It's impossible to look at Liza Minnelli in this film and not think of her mom. Technically, the character of Sally is not supposed to be this talented or glamorous, but you know what, I can live with that. For what it's worth, I wouldn't call Liza a perfect beauty. If she looked more like, say, Raquel Welch or Brigitte Bardot, it might be more of a distraction in this particular movie. Liza (in my opinion) has slightly odd-shaped lips, a not-quite-perfect nose, and eyes that make her look like an anime character, but in this movie, I find myself grateful for those imperfections. They help sell Sally.

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Previously:
I Am a Fugitive From a Chain Gang

The Rocky Horror Picture Show

The Rocky Horror Picture Show
first seen @ AMC Loews Harvard Square 5, Boston MA
circa 2000

Her name was Jeanette. 

I met her at a comic book convention in Boston back in the late 90s (I'm guessing either '97 or '98). This was back when I was still making comics of my own and going to cons to promote them. Actually, this was a period in my life when I toured non-stop - mostly along the Northeast but also as far west as Chicago and as far south as Charlotte. Plenty of good stories from that period. Maybe I'll share a few sometime.

Anyway, I had a table at this show in Boston and she came by at one point to check out my comics. We talked for awhile. Turned out she was a hardcore fangirl - she liked the superhero stuff, but she also dug independently-published comics as well, like mine. She bought a copy and I thanked her and that was that.

Breakin'

All this week we'll take a look at some classic hip-hop films from the 80s and talk about the early days of the music and the culture from four different angles: graffiti writers, deejays, breakdancers, and emcees.

Breakin'
seen online at YouTube
1.19.11

I never had the body for breakdancing. I've always been a little on the rotund side. Even as a kid, I could never see myself spinning and flipping around like that. Popping seemed simpler. I think I spent most of the sixth grade working on my popping moves - unsuccessfully.

Truth is, I wanted to dance like Michael Jackson. Back then, who didn't? The first time I saw him moonwalk, it was like a revelation. Breakdancing may have been the move back in the 80s, but there was no doubt who was the dancing king. This was also the dawning age of music videos, and with every new video of his, Michael had moves that I looked at and studied and tried to imitate - again, unsuccessfully. And it's not even like I aspired to be a professional dancer or anything. It's just that he was Michael. And to be able to dance like him was to capture a tiny fraction of his magic.

I knew a few breakers in junior high, though I don't remember too much about them. I do remember years later, however, when I worked with this one young dude who was a breaker. This was the late 90s, and I remember being surprised at the time that breakdancing was still around. These days, it's not unusual to walk around Manhattan (or even in the subways) and see some dance crew performing out on the streets for cash. Sometimes they're breakers, but not always. They've become tourist attractions more than anything else.

The difference between Breakin' and Beat Street is like night and day. The former was the bigger commercial hit, but the latter, as I said yesterday, seems more genuine. Breakin' is set in Los Angeles and has a white lead character, which, while not an inherently bad thing, is a marked contrast to Beat Street, which is more interested in showing hip hop's roots. Breakin' kinda skirts around the edges of race without actually going there; one almost gets the impression that the characters want to be able to talk frankly about it instead of hiding behind phrases like "they're a different class of people," but that would be far too much to ask of what is essentially a good-time dance movie.

I don't really have a whole lot more to say. I've never been much of a dancer in general, and I don't wanna get too much into other forms of dance, since this is supposed to be all about hip-hop. Anybody have anything else to say about breaking? Now's your chance.

Beat Street

All this week we'll take a look at some classic hip-hop films from the 80s and talk about the early days of the music and the culture from four different angles: graffiti writers, deejays, breakdancers, and emcees.

Beat Street
seen online via YouTube
1.18.11

The closest I ever came to being a deejay growing up was making my mix tapes. I was a total Top 40 nerd as a kid - I consumed just about everything on the radio, no matter how crappy. Now, of course, there were singers from the 80s whose music has stood the test of time - Michael Jackson, Madonna, Prince, Cyndi Lauper, Duran Duran - but thanks to my numerous mix tapes, I preserved the mediocre ones as well.

In the 70s, the radio station of choice in New York was WABC, and I remember listening to it, but when Z100 came along in the 80s, I made the switch, and most of my mix tapes were made from there. Of course, I'd never miss "American Top 40" with Casey Kasem every week, a show I took very seriously, because how else would you know which songs are the best? (I think it was WPLJ that syndicated his show back then.) Free thought and individual taste would come later in life; keep in mind I was only ten or so.

The mix tapes were inspired by my father, who had the most incredible record, tape and 8-track collection - and he was always making mix tapes. His music was R&B and country. He'd buy blank tapes by the dozen, Maxell or Sony usually, then record the music off of his records, and write the names of the singers on the labels. He had the best handwriting of anyone I knew, and his labels would always look sharp, so I knew my mix tapes had to look just as good. I numbered each one - "Volume 1," "Volume 2," and so on - and carefully wrote out on the labels both the song title and artist of each song on the tape. My father bought me a spinner rack to shelve my mix tapes, which grew with each year. It was my pride and joy as much as my father's tapes were his.

Occasionally I'd take them to parties at school. I made my mix tapes for me above all else, and I never put much thought into things like sequence or theme. I never tried to make a tape specifically for parties. The thought may have occurred to me at some point or another, but I was more interested in making them for my personal enjoyment. Generally, my tastes were the same as everyone else's in junior high, so if I played one of my tapes at a party, my choice of selections was rarely an issue. Rap music was part of everything else on the radio, so Run DMC and Whodini and UTFO and LL Cool J and the Fat Boys were as much a part of my volumes as anything else popular at the time.

In college, I actually was a deejay at our radio station for a semester, and that, obviously, was a very different experience. I still tended to gravitate towards songs I'd first heard on the radio, although this time it was classic rock that informed my choices instead of pop. I did, however, mix pop songs from my youth in with Led Zeppelin and the Rolling Stones, and I even made it a point to include one song a week from my father's collection, which he generously permitted me to do. I'd record my hour-long sessions and play them back for him to hear. I think he was impressed.

Beat Street is a mostly-sanitized version of the house party experience as it was in the early days of hip hop, which I was far too young to have known about. I've done some reading, however, so I now know that it features many of the pioneers of hip hop throughout the movie in supporting roles, including two of the greatest deejays of all time - Afrika Bambaataa and Kool Herc.

The highly-recommended book Yes Yes Y'all: The Experience Music Project Oral History of Hip Hop's First Decade compiles interviews with numerous hip hop veterans, including Bambaataa and Herc. They both talk about putting on shows in the Bronx in the 70s and how they worked at making their venues safe for all who came. Herc was the one who would play hard-to-find R&B and funk music never heard on the radio, while Bambaataa was the one who'd mix in unusual beats and sounds with his diverse range of music, as well as establishing a sense of community.

Going by what I've read in that book, Beat Street seems to get it mostly right: hooking the sound system up to a telephone pole, frisking people at the door, b-boy battles, and so on. It's a Hollywood version of the whole experience, so you've also got the obligatory love story subplot and the Big Show at The End where everyone comes together, but despite the rotten acting and cheesy script, there does seem to be a feeling of sincerity to it all. And Rae Dawn Chong is adorable.

Harry Belafonte was a producer. Here's a great quote from him from Jet Magazine: "What appealed to me [about the movie] was being witness to the creation of a real folk art that developed under its own steam. The entertainment industry didn't create this. It was born on its own and it will go at its own pace to its own conclusion."

Black Swan

Black Swan
seen @ Chelsea Clearview Cinemas, New York NY
12.12.10

LAMB Acting School 101 is a monthly event in which LAMB bloggers discuss the work and career of a given actor. This month's subject is Natalie Portman.The complete list of posts for this month will go up December 29 at the LAMB site.

I met Terry over a year ago. A mutual friend and her band was playing a gig in the city and she introduced us and we hit it off pretty well from there. She's a ballet dancer as well as a fine artist. She kind of got off to a late start in life as far as training goes, but as far as I can tell, she's not looking to play Lincoln Center or tour the world with a troupe. She just does it because she loves it. I mean, she gets a genuine joy from it that really completes her life. Unfortunately, I have yet to see her perform - I think she's still slightly self-conscious about it - but hopefully sometime next year that'll change.

When I told her about this new movie coming out about ballet called Black Swan, she didn't need too much convincing to see it, not even after I told her that it's got some... weird elements to it (to put it mildly). We were gonna see it on Saturday, but she got invited to a party at the last minute. Too bad, because Saturday was the better day weather-wise. Yesterday it was pouring rain. The 7 PM show was sold out, so we got tickets for the next show, which was 8:15, and after a quick dinner, we came back to the theater, though we had to settle for second row seats on the side because the place was packed.

The Chelsea is located just off Eighth Avenue in the gay-borhood of Chelsea. Greenwich Village has historically been Rainbow Central in New York for decades, but this enclave on the west side of Manhattan, just north of the Village, has become a serious contender for that title. Terry lives uptown, but she loves coming down here, sometimes with her girlfriend, sometimes with her pals. The last time we hung out she took me to this gay gift shop on Eighth. I'd actually been there before, but it's more fun, I think, going in there with friends, so you can marvel at all the kooky and kinky items on display.

The movie theater caters to the gay crowd. The Rocky Horror Picture Show plays there every weekend, for one thing. (Yes, I have my Rocky story to tell, and it's a great one. Stay tuned.) Also, the new Cher movie Burlesque is currently playing there too, and in the lobby, there's this huge showcase containing mannequins with costumes presumably worn by Cher and Christina Aguilera in the film, along with related paraphernalia. Terry hated Burlesque, but as she was leaving she saw a bunch of spectacular-looking drag queens headed for the next show. She says she can't understand why gay men love this movie.

I wanted to like Black Swan, I really did, but I found myself unmoved by it, and indeed, found it ridiculous beyond the point of pure camp. (Terry thought it was campy too, but in a good way.) One part Showgirls, two parts All About Eve, with a dash of Carrie and a generous helping of An American Werewolf in London (!), this didn't come across as terribly original as people would have you think. The more I think about it, the more I think Darren Aronofsky (whom I still respect as a filmmaker, because making a movie like this took brass balls) should've gone all the way and made it a true horror movie instead of just an is-she-going-crazy-or-isn't-she thing.

So instead, let's talk about the one thing that makes Black Swan watchable: Natalie Portman. I remember the first time I saw her in a film; it was Beautiful Girls, back when I was still working in video retail. That was a popular movie to watch in the store, in large part, because of her. Eventually I learned about this French crime movie she made a couple of years earlier, called Leon in France but known in America as The Professional. I bought a bootleg VHS copy of the director's cut after seeing the theatrical cut.

I've seen Portman in these films: The Professional, Heat, Beautiful Girls, Everyone Says I Love You, Mars Attacks!, all three Star Wars prequels, Closer, V for Vendetta, The Darjeeling Limited (and Hotel Chevalier), and now Black Swan (and I'll likely see her next summer in Thor). I may not have loved Black Swan, but man, she absolutely nails it in that movie. Terry said she could tell Portman wasn't a professional dancer who had been training all her life, but then she's got a better eye for that sort of thing. I found Portman absolutely convincing as a ballet dancer, but in addition to the exhausting physical challenges, which are impressive enough, this film puts her through an emotional wringer like few actresses ever go through - and even if was in service to a histrionic, way over-the-top plot, she makes you invest in it. This is without question her greatest role to date, and if she wins the Oscar it'll be well-deserved.

I realize, however, that a lot of love is being thrown this movie's way, so if you liked it, feel free to tell me what exactly it is I'm missing about it, because this appears to be a love-it or hate-it kinda movie. (If you hated it, though, then tell me that too, so I know I'm not alone!)

Saturday Night Fever

Saturday Night Fever
seen @ Central Park Conservancy Film Festival, Central Park, New York, NY
8.26.10

In watching films at outdoor venues, I've noticed a few patterns emerge:

1) The fight for space. It's one thing if you've got a blanket. A blanket clearly marks your territory; there's no mistaking it. Without one, you're kinda left to the whims of fate as far as what constitutes "your" space. I try to claim a spot a respectful distance away from any surrounding neighbors, fully aware of personal boundaries and all that, but I can't rely on other people doing the same for me. Sometimes they will, but a lot of times they won't. As a result, I'll end up doing things like stretching out or moving around in a certain way as to say, hey, this is my spot, please don't encroach on it.

And I'll try not to be aggressive about it, hoping that others will take the hint somehow, due to some subtle reading of my body language as I'm splayed out on the grass or turf or concrete, bookbag extended as far as it'll go... but it almost never works the way I want it to. And as more and people fill in the space, I have to redefine my boundaries not only according to how much space I'm willing to sacrifice and still be comfortable, but also according to who's sitting around me. Cute girls - okay. Creepy looking old dude - not okay! I dunno. Maybe I'm not claustrophobic so much as I am agoraphobic. Or maybe I'm just like Randall in Clerks: I hate people, but I love gatherings - isn't it ironic?

2) The presence of small children and animals, in particular, dogs. I used to be deathly afraid of dogs when I was much younger, but I've worked hard at developing a tolerance for them over the years. I can (grudgingly) accept the presence of dogs if you're having an outdoor screening in a big park (to a point - as you'll see). But someone needs to explain to me why you bring small children to a screening of AN R-RATED MOVIE. One of my favorite cartoonists, Ellen Forney, did a strip about how her parents once took her and her brother to an R-rated movie when they were kids (it was Saturday Night Fever, too). Her parents thought they could explain all the adult stuff, no problem, but it turned out to be way harder (and more embarrassing) than they figured.

I'm not a prude; if some parents honestly think this, then more power to 'em. But there are other issues, such as the ability of little kids to sit still and quiet during the film - especially when you're indoors. You've probably encountered that a few times. My feeling is that if you absolutely can't get a babysitter, maybe you should just stay home... or don't have kids at all...

3) Subtitles. I had this at Pier 54 and I had it last night. Don't like.

Last night I had a nice spot picked out about an hour before showtime, to the left of the screen and underneath the branches of a tree. The guy in front of me had a turned-up bike next to him, which I made sure to stay out of the way of, and other people who tried to claim a spot next to me quickly changed their minds when they saw the bike would block their view. So I was doing okay with my personal space so far. Some women to the right of me had some small dogs. They're small, they're relatively quiet - fine. Then, later on, a couple comes up behind me with TWO HUMONGOUS DOGS and park themselves behind me, apparently undeterred by the bike. That was it. I got up and moved further back. I'm only willing to tolerate so much.

Before the film, there was some stupid animated 3D short. Everyone was given old-style 3D glasses at the gate (the ones with one red and one blue lens), which made me think for a moment that they were gonna show Fever in 3D! These glasses were wrapped really tight; I was struggling to get them open without damaging the glasses, but the short was done before I could succeed, and from what I saw of it, it was nothing special.

Watching Fever with a crowd reminded me of when I saw a re-release of Grease several years ago (not the sing-along version released this year). The crowd went wild at the first appearance of John Travolta, then as now, and the dance sequences got some cheers and applause, then as now. That was nice. It's good to know movies like these still hold up.

Top Hat

Top Hat
seen @ Ortine Cafe (backyard), Brooklyn NY
8.19.10

Once I got into a debate with my friend Pam over who was a better dancer: Fred Astaire or Gene Kelly. I voted Astaire, she voted Kelly, and we kinda went around and around arguing the merits of each. In truth, it's a question that can have no "right" answer. It's like comparing Ted Williams to Joe DiMaggio: you can't go wrong either way.

Of course, being a child of the 80s, I grew up wanting to dance like Michael Jackson. I was in sixth grade when he did the Moonwalk for the first time, and for weeks I tried to do it too. I remember thinking at one point that doing it well depended on what kind of shoes you wore, then thinking that it depended on what kind of floor you did it on. There were times I thought I came close to getting it, but I never did.

The only popular dance I remember doing was the Vogue. Madonna's "Vogue" was big the year of my high school prom, and that was the one dance that even me and my nerdy art-school friends could do - and we did! I never mastered the Macarena, even though 10-year-olds at summer camp did (I was a CIT by then). Can moshing be considered a dance? I never had any problem with that, though don't ask me to try it now. The last time I was in a pit was at a show at some dive bar in the East Village a few years ago and my sides nearly split in two!

Getting back to Fred Astaire, though. I have absolutely nothing against Gene Kelly, and I can watch him all day long too - but for me, I dig Astaire for his class and style, the way he looks in a tuxedo, and especially the chemistry between him and Ginger Rogers. When they perform "Cheek to Cheek" in this movie, notice how the rest of the world falls away after awhile, and eventually it's just the two of them. It's such a sublime moment, such a blissful expression of love and happiness, that it makes you understand why movie musicals were so popular once.

I can't recall the last time I saw a film in a cafe before, much less the backyard of one. This may be the first time. I didn't realize it was a cafe with a wait staff at first; after taking a table in the backyard, I went back inside, not realizing the waitress had already come to my table with a menu. I hadn't planned on having a big sit-down dinner, especially since I had eaten before I came here, so I just ordered a couple of sides: sausages and toast. The Ortine apparently hosts free movie screenings all the time, and I got a free dish of popcorn made with some kind of pepper that really set my mouth on fire!

The backyard is small, and as a result there were maybe 10-12 people there total. Most of them knew each other, so there was more than a little bit of talking, between themselves and to the waitresses when they came and went. Top Hat has a silly, trifling plot (I mean that affectionately) that's easy to follow, so the talking didn't bother me. If this were, say, a Hitchcock film instead, I might feel differently. I hope this won't be a issue if I choose to return to the Ortine, which I suspect I will. It is a very nice place.