Elizabeth Taylor: The Shrillness of You

Despite the fact that Father of the Bride is among my favorite movies of all time, I’ve never been an Elizabeth Taylor fan. I truly believe that from the start of her career as a child star to the tabloid press’ obsession with her personal life, that Taylor has been a media creation from the very beginning. Yes, she’s an Oscar winning actress but are they movies that I’d ever want to sit through more than once? Taylor appeared in more dreadful, turgid, and empty “prestige pictures”—movies created to win Academy Awards—from the 1950s up to the mid-1960s. This list is but one reason why I largely despise 1950s-early ‘60s cinema: A Place in the Sun, Giant, Raintree County, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Suddenly Last Summer, BUtterfield 8, and the greatest bomb of all time: Cleopatra. Let's also not forget and Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

I particularly despise the films Taylor made with director George Stevens, the most bloated, tedious, and overblown director of the era. Giant is pure torture. Just try and enjoy that film with the Texas-baked accents, endlessly crying infants, preachy finger wagging about “tolerance”, and the pre-Johnny Depp performance of James Dean. Any movie where Rock Hudson is its greatest asset is its own worst enemy. Also take a look at Taylor’s 1960s work. It’s a series of glossy artistic flops no better than a TV soap opera of the day. Taylor’s career during the mid-‘50s to late ‘60s coincides with my own decreasing interest in movies of that era and an increased interest in television of the same time, which was memorably derided as the vast wasteland!

Taylor, beginning around 1957, became increasingly shrill and overwrought in her performances. Yes, many times the role demanded it but its just plain unpleasant to watch. I’ve come to associate Taylor and playwright Tennessee Williams as one miserable combination. Why was Hollywood so enamored with this man’s works? Was it the first signs of the Production Code cracking? Were the sexual overtones in Williams’ works—watered-down for audiences’ “protection” and in the case of Tin Roof, rendered unrecognizable somehow appealing to repressed audiences? (Brick’s unhappy. Why? No reason.) Perhaps Elizabeth Taylor’s performances and the increasing circus her personal life was becoming occurred at the same time for a reason. Art imitates life is apt here, but it doesn’t make for movies I’d want to watch more than once. I don’t know of anyone who includes Elizabeth Taylor in their favorite actress lists, or actually enjoys or is moved by anything she’s ever done in what has been a long and fascinating to watch—in a car wreck sort of way—career. Taylor lacks the innocence and vulnerability of Audrey Hepburn, the toughness of Susan Hayward, the comedic ability of Marilyn Monroe. Taylor’s appeal lies in the luridness of her stormy personal life, the dysfunctional relationship with the hammy Richard Burton, and her status as a studio-era creation.

Despite my dislike for Taylor’s acting and films, I credit her with being a survivor of that studio-era madness and so many tragedies in her life: illness, becoming a widow so young, and living life under a microscope. Her dedication to charity is admirable, indeed, and she seems like a genuinely good person, all things considered. I just don’t want to have to watch Giant ever again.

I've Been Cloned!

There's a site out there EDIT: I've deleted the link because that weasel doesn't deserve a link--that has full posts and pictures from yours truly! I'm not talking about friendly links and plugs, but everything! I'm not against using images from other sources--we all do it--but this is bizarre. I'm not sure whether to be flattered or not. Whatever the case, it's there and that's that. I just wish that my clone would post some of its own entries and allow me to be the doppleganger once in awhile...Check your blogs and see if it's happening to you...

Poll Results: William Powell

In last month's poll question: "Which actor most deserves a posthumous Academy Award for lifetime achievement?" William Powell treated his tough guy competitors to a butt kicking:

William Powell 32 (43%)

Robert Mitchum 19 (25%)
Glenn Ford 9 (12%)
Tyrone Power 8 (10%)
Leslie Howard 4 (5%)
Dana Andrews 2 (2%)

When thinking of who to select, I would definitely think of how each actor would've given their speech. Based on that reason alone, I would've voted Mitchum. He'd be amused by the whole thing and not moved at all. However, this is a posthumous award, so we'd have to take a more dewey and sentimental look at an after-the-fact Oscar. If Powell were to actually get an honorary Oscar, most of today's young dopes--and that includes a number of middle-aged dopes--wouldn't even know who William Powell even was. They'd probably think he was a former Secretary of State or something. Maybe copious clips of Bill with Myrna and Asta in their great Thin Man movies together would still have some effect--just as long as they don't attempt to remake those beloved films---we'd end up with Tom Hanks and Julianne Moore as Nick and Nora. Moore's Nora would have to have "six-pack abs" and "kick ass" ability while Hanks' Nick would be weak-willed and have to demonstrate "regret" and "torment" over his chronic drinking "problem."

In an era where smoking cigarettes on screen can earn a film an "R" rating and the only time class and romanticism is possible is through the lens of the past, a Thin Man remake is a reminder that we don't have elegant, suave, men-of-action and charming wit like William Powell anymore and it's a shame that he'll never receive any kind of honor from plastic surgery-obssessed, CGI-dependent, bad-comic-book movie Hollywood where the likes of Shia Lebeouf and Ben Affleck are considered the leading lights of cinema...Hey, this turned into a rant! :D

Katharine Hepburn: Dragon Seed (1944)

Heavy-handed sentiment and political messages never make for a great movie, and terms like “Important Film”, “World War II Propaganda”, and “Interesting Failure” come to mind when Dragon Seed (1944) is mentioned, but it’s no less a fascinating experiment. Based on the Pearl S. Buck novel, it’s the story of Ling-Tan (Walter Huston) and his family, the simile-and metaphor-spouting denizens of a Chinese village and the impact the Sino-Japanese War has on them.

Putting aside the whole controversy of westerners playing Asians, Kate gives an unremarkable performance even though the role of Jade was an opportunity for her to spout her independent, proto-feminist beliefs as well as a chance to publicize the Chinese war effort. The Chinese portrayed here would later be Communists and not exactly a United States ally, but that would be the case with the Soviet Union, too; it’s funny how politics work: your ally becomes your enemy and your enemy becomes…okay, you get the idea.


Still, this was 1944 and World War II was well under way. The war in China had been raging full on since 1937 (or 1931 if you count the conflict in Manchuria), when this film takes place, and China was suffering massive casualties while under siege from Imperial Japan since 1937. Hollywood tends to act years after the fact, just as they did in the production of For Whom the Bell Tolls (1943), though the republican faction in Spain had long since been vanquished by Franco’s forces. With Dragon Seed, at least the struggle continued in China and perhaps the film could bring attention to this ally in the East. There was great sympathy for China and the Soviet Union during the war, and when watching Dragon Seed it’s best to keep that context in mind. The film is interesting more for its historical context than its dramatic power. It is also regrettable that the westerners portraying Asians is a distraction, even to those of us who dwell among the anointed ones flowing over with much wisdom. Sorry, I’ve been watching Dragon Seed…

Katharine Hepburn receives top billing as Jade, the curious and free-thinking wife of Ling-Tan’s middle son Lao (Turhan Bey) and who wants to stand up to the invading Japanese. Or to be more specific it’s Katharine Hepburn playing herself in Asian-style makeup. You have to give Kate a ton of credit for trying vastly different roles; in our previous Hepburn performance review, she played a boy (in disguise). Jade longs to become educated and is interested in world events, especially the Japanese invasion. Hepburn’s first scene is at a propaganda film showing with what is probably a communist political officer narrating a newsreel of Japanese atrocities and is imploring the complacent Chinese farmers to act.

Hepburn is unremarkable in the role though she earnestly tries to become the character; but it just doesn’t work. She’s alternately coy, evasive, and downright flaky! There are some genuinely bizarre facial expressions, too which I found to be distracting. Jade is supposed to be shy in her admissions in wanting to be “of the new” and the modern and she’s full of so many deep, meaningful thoughts: “My thoughts are like a chain and one is fast to the other.” See? Jade is complex! She contains multitudes! Unfortunately, Kate delivers much of her dialogue as if she were in an opium-induced trance. I’d love to know what Hepburn did to prepare for this movie.

Dragon Seed, despite some manipulative yet effective scenes, is more a historical curiosity, one that was borne of public conscience and war aims rather than cinematic achievement. It was perhaps more important for Katharine Hepburn to be associated with this film’s purpose—the support of China—than it was to give a memorable performance. She lent her name and her presence to the project but she’s off the screen for long stretches, one as long as thirty minutes. Much of that time in the film is spent on showing the Japanese pillaging and destroying and being evil. It’s easy to rail against the depiction of the Japanese in the film, but this was after all the same campaign that brought The Rape of Nanking.

Dragon Seed airs on Turner Classic Movies June 23 @ 6am EST.