I wasn't tagged or anything, but this "180" concept allows me the chance to tell you my tale of woe:
There was a time-- until fairly recently-- that I despised Ingrid Bergman, who is widely considered one of the great actresses and beauties of all time. I certainly didn't see her that way. I found Bergman harsh, shrill, and melodramatic. Couldn't stand her for years--decades. Not her personally, of course, but as an actress she just ground me to a halt every time I watched her in anything. I could tolerate her fleeting presence in Casablanca (1942), but that's mainly because Bogart carried that movie singlehandedly. Oh, Claude Rains gave the performance of a lifetime, too. Anyway, Bergman continued to grate on my nerves and sabotage every classic movie I saw her in. Then, one day, I grew up. So, forgive me Ingrid Bergman, wherever you may be, for doubting your talent, for dismissing your shining brilliance. I toyed with the idea of not thinking you a hack in Indiscreet (1958) but then you went ahead and captivated me, the Hemingway fan, in For Whom The Bell Tolls (1943) you were alongside the great Gary Cooper. You then smacked me with a tremendous performance in Gaslight (1944), which was directed by another highly-regarded Hollywood Dreamland icon, George Cukor. But it was your role in Notorious (1946) (in which you should have won an Oscar) that I was once and for all convinced of your brilliance.
A Red Boutonniere and a Homburg, Of Course
11 hours ago