Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Random Raves: Burt Lancaster

But as long as I got a foot, I'll kick booze!

As long as I got a fist, I'll punch it!

And as long as I've got a tooth, I'll bite it!

And when I'm old and grey
and toothless and bootless,


I'll gum it, till I go to heaven,
and booze goes to hell!

~Burt Lancaster in Elmer Gantry



Burt Lancaster’s Oscar-winning performance as unholy con man Elmer Gantry (1960) is quite simply the most enjoyable performance I’ve ever had the pleasure to watch. From the moment he’s onscreen, Lancaster charms and amuses as he’s sliding across the floor on his knees, railing against sinners, or telling his rapt audience what they want to hear. Burt would appear to have sixty-four teeth instead of the traditional thirty-two, as his zillion megawatt star power shines brighter than any other performance ever. The fact that Lancaster doesn’t get swallowed up by the sometimes lumbering film is testament to his charisma. Witness his rousing singing of the spiritual I’m on My Way, the way he chows down on a simple plate of black-eyed peas and acts as though it were manna from heaven. Lancaster is always “on." Elmer Gantry was his crowning achievement as an actor and anyone who’s seen the movie will never forget his performance. He's commanding on the screen; preaching, shouting, and spellbinding. The movie is eminently quotable, with every confident line delivered in Lancaster’s singular voice (which I've been known to impersonate for unwilling friends, hated enemies, and complete strangers).



In 1997 I was fairly new to classic film (outside of westerns, war, and the Three Stooges) and Lancaster was among the first movie stars I took an interest in watching. He had made a lasting impression on me years before after I saw him in Gunfight at O.K. Corral, but it wasn’t until 1957’s Sweet Smell of Success that I became fascinated with the actor. I had originally sought out the movie because I wanted to soak up the film’s 1950s NYC atmosphere; the nightclubs, the dirty cops, sleazy performers, and down-and-out losers. A friend and I had a weekly ritual of watching two movies every Friday night. The first film of the evening varied, but the finale was always Sweet Smell of Success, which we watched for fifteen consecutive Fridays. The movie itself is brilliant, capturing the New York City in that time and place, and Burt Lancaster’s JJ Hunsecker mesmerized me with his reptilian chill and icy reserve. A character surrounded by expensive art yet asking the slimy Sidney Falco how many S’s there were in “Picasso.” Everything about the character was cold. Then along came 1960 and Elmer Gantry, and a completely hot-blooded character. With these two performances I saw Lancaster in two very different roles at the peak of his powers.




Lancaster was my introduction to the Hollywood I’ve since come to love so much. He wasn’t strictly an action hero like John Wayne and he lacked the polish and sophistication of Cary Grant. But he was so much more adaptable to various roles. Lancaster was always one to choose interesting and challenging parts, ones that sometimes forced him into awkwardness onscreen, Come Back, Little Sheba is the first example of Lancaster “stretching out.” It did nothing for him awards wise, but it enhanced his reputation at a time when leading men stayed well within their limitations. Lancaster was too young for the role, but executes his part admirably. Watch Lancaster with fellow tough guys Robert Ryan and Lee Marvin in 1966's The Professionals. This was the film that made me realize that Burt could hang with the toughest of hombres and still come out on top. His character is by far the most engaging of the group. Lancaster must have learned from his experience with Gary Cooper in 1954’s Vera Cruz, when Lancaster mugs, chews scenery, and carries on while Cooper ends up looking all the better for it! Ten years later, Lancaster underplays Marvin’s tough S.O.B. persona because no one was nastier than Lee Marvin. No one. So Burt goes in another direction and remains the most memorable character in the movie. There’s also The Swimmer (1968), a film based on a haunting John Cheever story about a middle-aged man in crisis—aren’t they always—and having quite a time in dealing with it. I won’t reveal the plot, but I couldn’t imagine any other actor from Lancaster’s generation taking on such a role and being so vulnerable. Burt’s brilliant in it and The Swimmer is one of the great forgotten movies of the 1960s.



Good for the Ladies: Here are Lancaster's female co-stars who were nominated or won Oscars in their films with him: (*won)




Barbara Stanwyck- Sorry, Wrong Number (1948)


Shirley Booth*- Come Back, Little Sheba (1952)


Deborah Kerr- From Here to Eternity (1953)


Anna Magnani*- The Rose Tattoo (1955)


Katharine Hepburn- The Rainmaker (1956)


Shirley Jones*- Elmer Gantry (1960)


Susan Sarandon- Atlantic City (1981)





I admire actors whose performances improve as they age (Paul Newman, Gene Hackman, Clint Eastwood, John Wayne) and I’ll add Lancaster to that list, too. It would seem that Lancaster was the best possible actor for a novice film buff to follow because his career remained interesting for its entire run, whether it was in a late 1940s Noir (The Killers; I’ll Walk Alone; Criss Cross) the mega star period of the fifties (The Crimson Pirate; From Here to Eternity; Gunfight at the O.K. Corral), his career peak of the early 1960s (Elmer Gantry; The Birdman of Alcatraz), the studied character roles of the late sixties-early seventies (a trio of gritty westerns; Go Tell the Spartans) or his status as elder statesman in the 1980s (Atlantic City; Field of Dreams). Burt Lancaster was my introduction to “grown up” classic films and I couldn’t be happier, or more entertained.

A Man and a Woman: 1960 Best Actor Burt Lancaster with Best Actress winner Elizabeth Taylor. April 17, 1961.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

TIME Will Tell

I'm surprised at how many movie stars graced TIME magazine's cover during the 1930s-50s. Considering that many who appeared on it over the years were supposed to be important yet are totally forgotten today (men of industry, government, business, etc.) makes me wonder just how "important" people in those fields actually are. They may have been essential folk back in their day, but we're still talking about the movie stars. Sorry, Clarence K. Streit...you should have preserved your life's work on film.

Ginger Rogers April 10, 1939



Bette Davis March 28, 1938



Audrey Hepburn Sep 7, 1953



Elizabeth Taylor August 22, 1949



Katharine Hepburn September 1, 1952



Ava Gardner September 3, 1951
The timing of these cover shots is interesting. Ginger and Bette were at their career peak when they made the cover. Audrey, Ava, and Liz were at the beginning of theirs; Audrey had just made her film debut in Roman Holiday and Taylor was just beginning her career as an adult after a successful run as a child actress. Kate Hepburn was still going strong-- and yes, her cover sketch is far from the most flattering I've seen of her, (it's during her Pat and Mike period, a film I've never liked all that much--considering the director, George Cukor, is revered here at Hollywood Dreamland as are the movie's stars, Spencer Tracy and Kate Hepburn).

I haven't read these issues to determine the substance of the articles, but I'll guess that they were "state of the cinema" pieces, reviews, or personal profiles. In the case of the Ginger Rogers cover, it's about Astaire & Rogers' final 1930s film, The Story of Vernon & Irene Castle and includes a Ginger profile. If a performer made the cover because of their onscreen work rather than any charitable or offscreen accomplishments, but it has gotten me interested enough in TIME's journalistic history to take a closer look at how movie stars were covered in the national, non-movie mag press.

I guess appearing on TIME isn't the immortalization they'd like us to think it is. Maybe popularity is the pocket change of history, I don't know. At least not as far as these movie stars are concerned. Anyway, take a look through TIME's cover archive and see how many people you recognize-- and how many you don't.

Monday, January 26, 2009

Susan Hayward's Wonderful LIFE, Part II



What better way to cheer myself up from a personal crisis than to post more of my favorite Susan Hayward LIFE Magazine photos! I'm discovering that the lovely Susan isn't as well represented as many of her fellow 1950s actresses and haven't been able to obtain as many of her movies as I'd like, putting a crimp in the Susan Hayward Craze of 2009. Eventually, I hope to compile a list of her available DVD titles. However, being able to gaze upon her visage again should soften the blow of not having nearly enough of my favorite redhead in the olde collection.













As mentioned in Part I, LIFE has either added more photos from this Edward Clark photo session, or I just missed the "additional" shots the first twenty times around, because I'm constantly discovering new pictures.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Henry Mancini: An Appreciation

When I think of Breakfast at Tiffany’s, two things come to mind: Audrey’s Holly Golightly character eating (a cruller? bear claw?) and drinking coffee outside early in the a.m., and Henry Mancini’s beautiful, immortal score. The film is remembered more for "Moon River" than for almost anything else, though for me Audrey Hepburn's reputation as a top-notch actress was also cemented in this film. She expressed her appreciation for Mancini’s score in a note to him:



Dear Henry,

I have just seen our picture- BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY’S- this time with your score.

A movie without music is a little bit like an aeroplane without fuel. However beautifully the job is done, we are still on the ground and in a world of reality. Your music has lifted us all up and sent us soaring. Everything we cannot say with words or show with action you have expressed for us. You have done this with so much imagination, fun, and beauty.

You are the hippest of cats—and most sensitive of composers!

Thank you, dear Hank.

Lots of love,

Audrey



Henry Mancini (1924-1994) owned the early 1960s, musically speaking. While the baby boomers were scalding the air with rock music, the "Greatest Generation" needed something that they could enjoy and Mancini was their man. The composer was popular with the public and beloved by his peers. Mancini won three Oscars in 1961-62: Best Song (“Moon River”) and Score for Breakfast at Tiffany’s in addition to a nod for the song "Bachelor in Paradise." He was awarded Best Song again in ‘62 for Days of Wine and Roses. Mancini compositions would receive Oscar nominations in 1963 ("Charade"), '64 ("Dear Heart"), and '65 ("The Sweetheart Tree"). His memorable melodies played continually on the radio and would continue to do so for the next forty years. Mancini’s reputation was never much with the terminally “hip” baby boom generation and he became known as an Easy Listening lightweight, due to his popularity among the older generation and his "heavy rotation" on “Beautiful Music” stations in the 1970s. Mancini’s arrangement of Nino Rota’s Love Theme from Romeo & Juliet made that composition his own.




In the years after his death from cancer in 1994, Henry Mancini's work received newfound popularity and his melodies earned a kitschy, yet hip reputation. It's a pity he wasn't around to appreciate the wave of adulation the mid-1990s "Lounge Music" revival brought, as it made believers out of the baby boomers who had previously thought of Mancini as "Schmaltzy" or "Old-Fashioned." His music became the epitome of Rat Pack-era cool. I never saw him or his music that way, because even when his music is swinging, there’s an undeniable pathos to Mancini, and it’s in most everything he composed. With that in mind, his music doesn't seem so ideal for alcohol consumption, even if those RCA albums were supposed to be for happy cocktail parties. People also seem to think that Breakfast at Tiffany’s was just a comedy, but it wasn’t (have these people seen the movie?) and Henry Mancini's work was never strictly loungey pop music. It could be enjoyed as such, there's always something more there. He was a quiet, self-effacing man, and guarded his emotions, yet that sensitive personality was often present in his music.





Speaking at a tribute for composer Jerry Goldsmith, Mancini was quoted as saying, “Frankly, he [meaning Goldsmith’s talent] scares the hell out of us.” That compliment could also be applied to Mancini. He was a singular combination of classy sophistication and tasteful melodicism, sort of a George Cukor of Composition. Mancini’s melodies could break your heart (Soldier in the Rain), scare the hell out of you (the ominously hip “Experiment in Terror”), or make for fun party music ("It Had Better Be Tonight"; "A Shot in the Dark"). His session men were the best West Coast Jazz musicians, he had a great "white bread" chorus which gave Ray Conniff's gaggle of better-known warblers a run for its money, and he sold millions of excellent easy listening/soundtrack albums. Mancini could also claim that film music legend John Williams (Jaws, Star Wars) was a Mancini acolyte. But we didn't really know how good this guy was until his better film scores were issued on CD, not the easy listening re-records from the 1960s-70s, but the actual tracks as heard in the films, like A Touch of Evil and Wait Until Dark, and yes, even Breakfast at Tiffany's. (the music heard on the LP is markedly different from what is heard in the film; a release of the actual underscore is unlikely because Paramount shows no interest in releasing or liscensing releases of their film score library). These works are a step towards revising Mancini's legacy and removing the undeserved, idiotic appellation, "lightweight tunesmith." Time has proven him to be fine dramatic composer and the absence of melody in today's film scores only make those of us who loved Mancini's music adore his work all the more, because no one has replaced him.

And that’s the truth, my huckleberry friend…



The Maestro, Henry Mancini