One Lovely Blog Award!

Thanks to Robert at Retro Hound, who awarded Hollywood Dreamland with the One Lovely Blog award. We're always humbled here whenever we're recognized by our blogging peers, so in keeping with the rules of the award, I will pass the award on to *gulp* ten other blogs. This time around, we'll spotlight blogs that are recent discoveries, as well as a nod to some old favorites who've probably been awarded this already...

Laura's Miscellaneous Musings- My pal in Disney and in 1930s movies whose well-rounded and informed writing is a treat.

Dear Old Hollywood- Congrats to newlywed Robby!

The Big Parade- Led by Zoe, who's a delight.

Screen Siren- Naomi's lovely blog is, well, lovely!

Goodfellas Movie Blog- Dave's a helluva writer and his Noir countdown has inspired animated discussion. Dave, I'm jealous of *and* intimidated by your ability.

The Movie Projector- R.D.'s currently running down a great Oscar list, check it out.

Movietone News- Matthew Coniam's recent entry on Robert Benchley is saved on my hard drive. Great work, Matthew.

Wearing History- Lauren's fun blog is teaching me all about vintage fashion.

It's All Make Believe, Isn't It?- Stefanie Valentine's blog is another recent discovery that I look forward to reading. She also liked my Porky at the Crocadero post.

Hollywood Heyday- One of the first blogs I ever followed. It quietly runs down the goings on in tinseltown. Fascinating stuff, edited by the mysterious GAH1965...

Porky at the Crocadero (1938)

Porky at the Crocadero (1938, Warner Brothers; dir. Frank Tashlin) is a decent, if by-the-numbers effort that only takes off in the final two minutes, when Porky Pig gets his chance to be a bog-time bandleader at the swank Crocadero nightclub. When the band slated to play that night can't make it, just-fired dishwasher Porky is hastily tracked down to get his big shot at the big time.



Porky proceeds to do impressions of Paul Whiteman and Benny Goodman but the fireworks really fly when he goes into Cab Calloway mode (respectfully, considering when this was made) or rather "Cab Howlaway and his Absorbent Cotton Club Orchestra" and gets the joint jumpin' with a frenetic take of " Chinatown." I couldn't find any versions of Cab singing "Chinatown" but if any Calloway (or Howlaway!) scholars out there know of one and where it can be found, let us know.


Note the Deco styling. These nice touches can be found in many 1930s cartoons. It was an era of Moderne sophistication!



The sheet music has the song "Avalon" on it, with Porky-as-Paul Whiteman just having played it before jumping into swinging mode as "Cab Howlaway."


The following sequence of stills demonstrate just how expressive and, er...animated Warner Brothers cartoonists made their subjects. So expressive and entertaining whether they're in motion or not. Don't know who's singing for Porky (it's not Mel Blanc, who does warble "Summer Night.")







"My Chinatown..."




The Porky Pig of the 1930s has always interested me. I like how he was Warner Bros. first breakout star, years before The Rabbit burst onto the scene. Through these 1930s cartoons one can follow the pig's career as he emerges from a pack of uninteresting animal characters in 1935's I Haven't Got a Hat. I'd never seen Porky in black & white until recently and it's been a joyous discovery. Too bad these never ever aired when I was a kid, but being in black & white and not of the 1950s, Chuck Jones-dominated fare found on the Bugs Bunny and Road Runner Show of Saturday mornings of my late-'70s/early '80s youth, it wasn't likely that I would happen upon them. If I had seen these before now, I might've worn my first Zoot suit at age ten.

Porky at the Crocadero is available on the Looney Tunes Golden Collection, Volume 5.

Favorite Actresses, #1: Katharine Hepburn

First Movie I Saw Her In: The African Queen (1951; on DVD March 23---finally!!!)

Three Favorite Movies: Holiday (1938); The Philadelphia Story (1940); The African Queen (1951)

Honorable Mention(s): Stage Door (1937); Woman of the Year (1942)

Favorite Movie with Spencer Tracy: Adam’s Rib (1949)

Oddly Interesting: Dragon Seed (1944)

Favorite Performance(s): Alice Adams (1935); Holiday (1938); Long Day’s Journey Into Night (1962); Lion in Winter (1968); On Golden Pond (1981)

Why I Like Her: Yeah, yeah, yeah I know it’s fashionable these days to hate Katharine Hepburn but we live in a mad, mad, mad, mad world so what’s a little backlash against my favorite actress of all time?

Katharine Hepburn is probably the coolest woman that ever lived. I am in awe of her progressive, New England personality borne of a solid upbringing. I admire her feisty independent spirit and even her prickly personality.

When I watch a Katharine Hepburn movie I’m not watching it because I necessarily love that time period—though I do—but every Hepburn film I’ve seen, period piece or not, has a sense of timelessness about it. It’s her performances that remain fresh all these years later. Hepburn was the first “modern” woman in film I ever saw. Other actresses were strong-willed but were very much of their time. Hepburn’s confidence and focus is another part of what’s so great about her. Hepburn is much like Cary Grant in that her personality transcends the time in which her films were made. She’s not just a “1930s actress” or someone exclusive to any other decade.

But…

The Hepburn I like best is in the roles where she’s vulnerable and tender. It’s no coincidence that my favorite Hepburn performances: Alice Adams, Holiday, On Golden Pond, etc., all have Kate in “Tender Mode.” If you’ve only seen her in her tough, pre-feminist roles give that other side of her a try and I think you’ll be won over.

In the looks department, she’s another Golden Age actress who was not “conventionally” beautiful yet Hepburn’s distinctive speaking voice, steely stare burns with a fierce intelligence that is quite attractive. My wife and I disagree as to whether Hepburn is good looking or not—you probably know which end of that argument I’m on…

Fashion wise, Hepburn had a natural, easy style about her. No, not the “rags” as she called the Kate-uniform she wore in her later years but rather the sporty, athletic, and tastefully-casual style she had in the 1940s-50s. Hepburn had a natural glamour. One of my favorite photos of her is from 1938 with the freckled, beaming Hepburn amid the destruction of her Connecticut home that ruined 95% of her personal belongings.

Hepburn’s never had a “down period” because she didn’t work as often as her contemporaries. She endured the “Box Office Poison” tag in the 1930s something that’s long-been consigned to the realm of historical trivia. She wasn’t helpless, drug-addled, or self destructive. Hepburn was a survivor who was level-headed and who credited her parents with raising her right. I like my heroes to be long-lived, happy, and honored while they’re still among the living. Hepburn had all that. We know about the four Academy Awards, the twelve nominations, and her long affair with Spensuh; all that’s legend now.

So there you have it, Hollywood Dreamland’s Ten Favorite Actresses. Kate’s ruled the roost for a number of years in my personal top ten but I’m not above having her knocked off the top of this heap if I suddenly find a new favorite to obsess over. It may not ever happen; but I’ll have a blast looking.

One More Thing: One of my favorite Hepburn-related websites is the Katharine Hepburn Cultural Center. "The Kate" is the theatre built in Old Saybrook, Connecticut. I plan on dragging the wife up there to see The Land Where Kate Lived (how is it in Summer?). The Center has a great blog, which gave Hollywood Dreamland a plug when we were just getting started. I'm grateful for that. It was special to have something connected to Katharine Hepburn wish us well, though I'm surprised we're still around!

Favorite Actresses, #2: Myrna Loy

First Movie I Saw Her In: The Best Years of Our Lives (1946)

Three Favorite Movies: The Thin Man (1934) After the Thin Man (1936); The Best Years of Our Lives (1946).

Honorable Mention: Test Pilot (1938)

Favorite Movie with William Powell: If you have to ask...

Favorite Performance: The Thin Man (1934)

Why I Like Her: Anyone who reads this blog knows how mad I am about the Thin Man movies. A lot about what I like about them has a lot to do with Myrna Loy. She’s the definition of cool and calm with a biting, sarcastic wit that’s second to none. That, in a nutshell, is why I like her so much. No layers of complicated emotions, no inner “torment”, just a dame who’s relaxed and in control. She’s someone who’s confident, funny and has the world in the palm of her hand. Well, that and because Loy is also such a distinctive-looking beauty with her "trademark" nose and her voice with its sophisticated tones. She was the strong woman behind the man. I worship her performance in The Thin Man, a film where she was denied even an Oscar nomination but makes off with most of that film’s best lines. She has an introduction even better than her perpetual co-star, William Powell.

Myrna Loy’s cool demeanor is the ultimate Hollywood illusion. It was also one of the great fantasies of the movie-going public. I’ve commented before on how I feel about the “ideal wife” tag that was used to sell her image and once again I’ll say that I much prefer the witty tippler who implored her husband to solve another mystery. I love how Myrna conveys confidence in her roles. As Nora, she’s unflustered by Nick’s consoling of Maureen O’Sullivan’s character. The wrinkled nose face Myrna makes at Powell shows that she’s not jealous but rather secure that Nick isn’t up to anything sneaky. Women adored her because she was no man’s fool and was every bit as intelligent—if not more so—than any male character.

Myrna’s characters often knew best and had a wonderful wisdom about them. Take the scene in The Best Years of Our Lives, when daughter Theresa Wright claims that her parents never had any difficulty in their relationship. Myrna’s character responds with some of the most moving dialogue in the film:

"We never had any trouble." How many times have I told you I hated you and believed it in my heart? How many times have you said you were sick and tired of me; that we were all washed up? How many times have we had to fall in love all over again?”

I can hear those words spoken in Loy’s distinctive voice with a touch of sadness at remembering the pain. Of course, the Academy failed to nominate her for this or anything else.

Myrna Loy’s career, like that of Ginger Rogers, tapers off after the mid-1940s. Less roles for aging actresses—Hollywood’s ongoing shame—and less interest for any woman over 40 essentially all contributed to Loy’s withdrawal from movies. Despite being massively popular during the 1930s and ‘40s, she’s never mentioned as one of the great stars of her time. Ever for the underdog, the underappreciated, and the just-plain forgotten, Myrna Loy ranks so high on this list because in her prime she was as appealing an individual that Hollywood ever produced. She was criminally underrated in the looks department despite having played exotic beauties in many of her silent films. She also gets overlooked as a comedic actress because comedy has always been cinema’s second citizen. Those who become enamored with classic film can claim Myrna Loy as their own private find, a neglected treasure of wit, elegance, and sass who is just as fresh today as she was seventy-five years ago.