Websites Dedicated to One Film

I like movie buffs who are so dedicated to a specific film that they put the effort into making a web site for that particular movie. Today I’d like to spotlight a few of the excellent web sites that have constructed a page in honor of their favorite movie. I’m sticking to Golden and Silver age movies, as films from the last twenty years have significantly more space on the web. If anyone knows of any more sites dedicated to pre-1975 movies and earlier, please let me know. I realize that there is plenty of space on the web for film series (James Bond, Tarzan, Dirty Harry etc.), but the focus here is on specific movies.

Here are four of the best web pages that focus on one film:

Raintree County- I love the film’s music score more than the film itself, but this site makes this average epic much more interesting. The film’s back story is infinitely more arresting than the finished product, with Montgomery Clift’s disfiguring car accident the most memorable incident. There's also plenty of information about the novel and its author's tragic life.

The Sand Pebbles- This was one of my favorite movies when I was a kid. The Sand Pebbles site is chock full of vintage stills, articles, programs, and deleted scenes.

The Swimmer- This 1968 movie has a profound effect on many who see it, and the "Frank Perry’s The Swimmer" site is a modest one, but that’s just perfect.

Where Eagles Dare- The 1969 Richard Burton-Clint Eastwood adventure epic, where 1940s women sport 1960s bouffants and fashions has a dedicated following and message board for fans to discuss their favorite WWII action movie.

I've always wanted to have a website with an emphasis on just one film, though it'd be on something like 1967's Tony Rome , far from being a classic, but still among my favorite movies of all time! Plus, I couldn't include it here, because it's technically a series, as it has a sequel, 1968's Lady in Cement!

Burt Lancaster: Against Type

That’s right, another miserable sod! I’ve been re-reading Against Type: a Biography of Burt Lancaster by Gary Fishgall (1995). It’s the first comprehensive Lancaster biography I’ve seen and the only one I’ve read, though I’ve been meaning to snag a copy of Kate Buford’s Burt Lancaster: an American Life. Against Type's narrative largely consists of behind-the-scenes anecdotes about his movie work, as well as the state of the world and the film industry as it was during Lancaster’s career, which spanned nearly fifty years. I’m glad the coverage of Burt the performer is emphasized over Burt the human being, because the latter was a difficult man to like: cold, ruthless, insensitive, and at times, downright nasty. As a result, Against Type plays like a broken record: Lancaster neglected his wife and children, carried on numerous affairs, bullied his co-stars and directed his directors, which led to a tense set, but when the project wrapped, there was nothing but kind words about Burt’s professionalism and drive for perfection, but never Burt the human being. There was no mistaking him for a nice guy, even if he gave his time and money to the civil rights struggle and championed liberal causes.

What I found to be the most fascinating thing about Burt Lancaster was that just like another Hollywood Dreamland hero, Cary Grant, he had his share of fears and insecurities. Lancaster covered his with an air of superiority and arrogance. Lancaster was not formally trained but had the charisma, natural ability, and keen intelligence to learn his craft and use his natural talents to blast most other performers off the screen. Still, when faced with formally-trained actors like Montgomery Clift, Lancaster’s knees literally shook with fear. He never got over that insecurity, even after establishing himself as one of the best actors of the 1960s. When making 1977’s The Island of Dr. Moreau*, Lancaster had the same fear of classically-trained Michael York, who was also twenty-eight years younger than the aging Lancaster, a former acrobat used to doing many of his own stunts, and who felt the onset of age acutely. When Lancaster was cast as Ned Merrill in the film adaptation of John Cheever’s short story, The Swimmer, Burt was throwing up off camera before filming when it struck him how tough it would be to play the film's affluent WASP protaganist, a background so different from his own. Director Frank Perry, who fought with Burt throughout the filming of The Swimmer, got a sense of satisfaction at seeing the big star afraid to screw up a most challenging role, as Burt was throwing up on the set before shooting began. Lancaster also was deeply depressed about growing older. A professional acrobat who did many of his own stunts, Lancaster nonetheless saw the proverbial writing on the wall and made the move to playing character parts in the late 1960s, rather than the traditional leading man roles which were appropriate for actors half his age.

It is the anecdotes about Lancaster overcoming his personal insecurities on a professional level that make for a fascinating look into Lancaster the man, because it was his fiery determination and ability to get the best possible performance out of himself from a part that may not have been ideally suited to his range that makes Lancaster an interesting actor to watch. Against Type is aptly titled. Just read it with an interest in Burt Lancaster, the artist; the man himself will only disappoint you.



*Yours truly saw The Island of Dr. Moreau in a drive-in theater (still extant!) at age five and was duly traumatized by the mutated humans and had nightmares about it for days afterwards---okay, years afterwards--in fact, I recently watched the film's trailer and couldn't believe how some of that imagery still disturbed me, particularly when the real animals are attacking the Hum-animals. I think the concept itself is what creeps me out, not the obviously-latex masks worn by the actors. Just don't tell anyone that I was disturbed by a Samuel Z. Arkoff production, okay?

Gail Patrick: Deco Dame, Part V

Wow! Someone must've been rummaging through my wildest dreams! They had to in order to have produced this fantastic photo of Gail Patrick in full Valentine’s Day regalia! There couldn't be a better occasion to go gah-gah over my biggest Golden Age crush. I found this picture several months ago, and have been waiting (seemingly forever) for this day to post it. C. Parker over at Starlet Showcase did so earlier this month, but I told him that I’m still using it here...So let Hollwood Dreamland's monthly Gail Patrick Showcase continue. Fifth in the series--Collect 'em All...

Stunning Gail: Excellent shot; looks to be late 1930s.

Ravishing, as Always: Another photo shoot with Gail all dolled up...

That's Definitely Not Rochester: A radiant Gail Patrick with a perpetually 39 year-old tightwad in a publicity pic for 1937's "Artists and Models."

Bob Hope: Oscar's Gold Standard

I won't be watching the Oscars this year, but if you do, please wish host Hugh Jackman luck. He has some big shoes to fill. But that’s not fair to Jackman, or any other Academy Awards host, because Bob Hope (1903-2003) is the Gold Standard of Oscar hosts. “Ski Nose” helmed the awards eighteen times:

1939, 1940, 1942, 1944, 1945, 1952, 1954, 1957, 1961, 1964, 1956, 1966, 1967, 1970, 1974, and 1977.

The funny thing is, when I went down the list of notable Academy Awards emcees (Jerry Lewis, Johnny Carson, Billy Crystal) I laughed to myself that I was even comparing these accomplished performers to He That Was Hope. I was embarrassed for having even thought of putting someone else up against him!

One of Hope’s main gags was bemoaning his failure to be nominated, but he was entirely too modest and self deprecating to show off his countless humanitarian awards, which included Lifetime Achievement Oscars in 1941, 1945, 1953, and 1966. You can add the Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award, too. Growing up I never knew this, because young me fell for his schtick hook, line, and sinker.

But Hope was more than an awards-collecting machine, he was a comic master. It’s become fashionable to bash Hope for his latter-career NBC specials, when he merely read off the cue cards, but anyone putting him down for those last few years doesn’t know the extent of his power during his prime. Hope had impeccable comic timing, with his great ability to do double takes, skewer the topics of the day (something that gives me, a history buff, insight into those times) and be a most generous performer, letting his leading lady make a fool out of him to get the laughs (his Nov 13, 1943 Command Performance radio sketch about the steak with Lana Turner is a classic). Smart man, that Bob Hope. Having seen (and heard) a lot of Hope in action, he was definitely a man in command, with the charisma, presence, and quick wit to get a show moving. And during his heyday, he was great for an improvisational line and that often got the bigger laugh. The quintessential emcee. Next year marks the seventieth anniversary of Hope’s first crack at the hosting duties; I hope they give him a warm tribute. Then I'll be watching.

Clash of the Titans: Emcee Bob Hope and Best Actor nominee Marlon Brando grapple for the Oscar at the 26th Academy Awards (1954).