The Hepburn Hurricane of 1938

"My God. It was something devastating--and unreal--like
the beginning of the world--or the end of it--and I slogged and sloshed, crawled through ditches and hung on to keep going somehow--got drenched and bruised and scratched--completely bedraggled--finally got to where there was a working phone and called Dad."


~Katharine Hepburn, recalling the September 21, 1938
hurricane

The first picture captures Hepburn's thoughts as to what she had just been through; a Category 5 hurricane. I've long been fascinated with this chapter in Kate's life. It's easy to imagine the plucky Hepburn taking charge of rescue and recovery, etc. in the wake of all that destruction. She's either great to have in a crisis or she is the crisis!

As someone who's been through their share of hurricanes--though nothing like that '38 storm, and that's including Hurricane Andrew--I find it to be a gripping story how Hepburn and her friends and family huddled in her stately home, Fenwick, located in Old Saybrook Connecticut, while destruction raged outside their door and soon destroying the home itself as well as nearly all of Kate's belongings, including her first Best Actress Oscar (later recovered).

It may cheapen the experience to say so, but I'd even watch a movie on this very subject. Kate vs. the Hurricane or Hepburn: A Tale of Survival. Okay, I really am cheapening the whole thing...

Here's the NOAA summary of the 1938 New England hurricane:

The Great New England Hurricane of 1938
CAT 3 - September 21, 1938

The Great New England Hurricane of 1938 was one of the most destructive and powerful storms ever to strike Southern New England. This system developed in the far eastern Atlantic, near the Cape Verde Islands on September 4. It made a twelve day journey across the Atlantic and up the Eastern Seaboard before crashing ashore on September 21 at Suffolk County, Long Island, then into Milford, Connecticut. The eye of the hurricane was observed in New Haven, Connecticut, 10 miles east of Milford. The center made landfall at the time of astronomical high tide, moving north at 60 mph. Unlike most storms, this hurricane did not weaken on its way toward Southern New England, due to its rapid forward speed and its track. This kept the center of the storm over the warm waters of the Gulf Stream.

Sustained hurricane force winds occurred throughout most of Southern New England. The strongest winds ever recorded in the region occurred at the Blue Hill Observatory with sustained winds of 121 mph and a peak gust of 186 mph. Sustained winds of 91 mph with a gust to 121 mph was reported on Block Island. Providence, Rhode Island recorded sustained winds of 100 mph with a gust to 125 mph. Extensive damage occurred to roofs, trees and crops. Widespread power outages occurred, which in some areas lasted several weeks. In Connecticut, downed power lines resulted in catastrophic fires to sections of New London and Mystic. The lowest pressure at the time of landfall occurred on the south side of Long Island, at Bellport, where a reading of 27.94 inches was recorded. Other low pressures included 28.00 inches in Middletown, Connecticut and 28.04 inches in Hartford, Connecticut.

The hurricane produced storm tides of 14 to 18 feet across most of the Connecticut coast, with 18 to 25 foot tides from New London east to Cape Cod. The destructive power of the storm surge was felt throughout the coastal community. Narragansett Bay took the worst hit, where a storm surge of 12 to 15 feet destroyed most coastal homes, marinas and yacht clubs. Downtown Providence, Rhode Island was submerged under a storm tide of nearly 20 feet. Sections of Falmouth and New Bedford, Massachusetts were submerged under as much as 8 feet of water. All three locations had very rapid tides increased within 1.5 hours of the highest water mark.

Rainfall from this hurricane resulted in severe river flooding across sections of Massachusetts and Connecticut. Three to six inches fell across much of western Massachusetts and all but extreme eastern Connecticut. Considerably less rain occurred to the east across Rhode Island and the remainder of Massachusetts. The rainfall from the hurricane added to the amounts that had occurred with a frontal system several days before the hurricane struck. The combined effects from the frontal system and the hurricane produced rainfall of 10 to 17 inches across most of the Connecticut River Valley. This resulted in some of the worst flooding ever recorded in this area. Roadways were washed away along with sections of the New York, New Haven, and Hartford Railroad lines. The Connecticut River, in Hartford reached a level of 35.4 feet, which was 19.4 feet above flood stage. Further upstream, in the vicinity of Springfield, Massachusetts, the river rose to 6 to 10 feet above flood stage, causing significant damage.

A total of 8,900 homes, cottages and buildings were destroyed, and over 15,000 were damaged by the hurricane. The marine community was devastated. Over 2,600 boats were destroyed, and over 3,300 damaged. Entire fleets were lost in marines and yacht clubs along Narragansett Bay. The hurricane was responsible for 564 deaths and at least 1,700 injuries in Southern New England. Damage to the fishing fleets in Southern New England was catastrophic. A total of 2,605 vessels were destroyed, with 3,369 damaged.

Summary
Widespread inland flooding, high winds inland, with severe coastal flooding.

PUBLIC IMPACT
Deaths: 564 Injured: >1,700
BOATING IMPACT
Destroyed: 2,600 Damaged: 3,300
HOMES/BUILDINGS
Destroyed: 8,900 Damaged: > 15,000
Catastrophic fires touched off by powerlines in Connecticut.

This information was taken from "Southern New England Tropical Storms and Hurricanes, A Ninety-eight Year Summary 1909-1997", by David R. Vallee and Michael R. Dion, National Weather Service, Taunton, MA.

Manhattan Murder Mystery (1993)

Manhattan Murder Mystery (“MMM”), Woody Allen's 1993 film brings the “Husband & Wife Detectives” concept towards a contemporary time frame, but this being Woody Allen and this being a Golden Age blog (mostly), there’s nostalgia aplenty in this lightweight effort, so it’s just the kind of mystery-comedy we love. Besides, even my dearest enemies know I’m a longtime Woody Allen fan, so reviewing this movie will come as no surprise to anyone.

The Story: Larry and Carol Lipton (Woody Allen and Diane Keaton), a middle-aged New York City couple have recently become “empty nesters” now that their son is away at college. Larry works as a book editor and Carol is a former ad agency executive who’s now thinking of opening her own restaurant. Carol feels that she and Larry have lost the romantic spark in their marriage and she fears that they’re becoming “a pair of comfortable old shoes.” When their neighbor dies from an apparent heart attack, Carol immediately believes that there’s something awry. She proceeds to drag her quite-reluctant husband into her off-the-cuff investigation into the woman’s husband, whom she suspects murdered his wife. There are a few clever twists in the mystery itself, but the more substantial plot is the evolving nature of relationships, but both story elements are well executed and of course, humorously done.

“Save a little craziness for menopause!”

Supporting Actors: Woody and Diane aren’t alone in this mystery, as co-stars Alan Alda and Anjelica Huston, already Allen players in 1989’s Crimes & Misdmeanors return to work for the director here. Alda is Ted, a successful playwright who’s sweet on Carol. Carol likes Ted because he’s enthusiastic and interested in the mystery, as well. Huston is Marcia, an author signed with book editor Larry’s publisher. She’s smart and attractive in her own confident way, and shows some interest in Larry. Larry, trying to keep Ted away from Carol, sets Marcia up with Ted.

“Larry, I think it's time we reevaluated our lives.”

“I've reevaluated our lives; I got a 10, you got a 6.”

What makes Manhattan Murder Mystery different from most Woody Allen fare is the absence of philosophical ruminations that usually inhabit his films. In MMM, an airy buoyancy dominates the proceedings and the film relies on the “earlier, funnier” style of Allen's movies with slapstick and lots of amusing one-liners, which are other Allen trademarks. However, like many other Allen films, MMM examines--with much humor--the state of marriage and how it needs an exciting jolt once in a while. That’s about as far as Allen goes with his examination of relationships in MMM, but other Allen films from that time period chronicle the state of a marriage in considerably serious detail, like 1992’s Husband & Wives. However, MMM is the message heavily-sugar coated, like one of Carol Lipton’s rich desserts.

Originally intended to be a sub plot in Annie Hall (1977), MMM is a fluffy confection that would serve as a fine introduction to the Woodyphyte, but for our purposes here, joins its illustrious predecessors as an entry in the Husband & Wife detective genre. Allen’s screenwriting cohort is Marshall Brickman, who co-authored the duo’s Oscar-winning script for Annie Hall (Best Picture, 1977; take that, Star Wars!). I’ve never been able to determine if MMM was already written back in the ‘70s as it was meant to be a part of Annie Hall or if Brickman worked on the story with Woody anew. Anyone know?


Music: Woody Allen is renowned for his use of music in his films. He has long eschewed a “proper” film composer (though Marvin Hamlisch scored Allen’s earlier effort, Bananas) and instead uses classical, jazz, and show tunes to serve as musical underscore. MMM opens with legendary cabaret singer Bobby Short performing Cole Porter’s “I Happen to Like New York”, which along with the aerial view of New York City, sets the film’s light tone. The “danger” music used is a live version of Benny Goodman Orchestra’s “Sing, Sing, Sing.” For Carol’s sneaking around motif, is the Bob Crosby Orchestra’s “Big Noise from Winnetka.”

“Ted has a mind like a steel sieve.”

Use of Handheld Cameras: Like his previous effort, Husbands and Wives, MMM employs the use of shaky cam effects. Woody has gone on record that this film was an “indulgence” in addition to being something he’d always wanted to do, so the artsy camera movement is something akin to hiding the fact that the movie is a lightweight affair, but why not experiment with the camera’s movement?

Claustrophia and a dead body - this is a neurotic's jackpot!

The Wood Man Meets The Thin Man: In the excellent interview book with Stig Björkman, Woody Allen on Woody Allen, Woody states that he likes detective films but feels that there’s never been a good one made. He went on to say that he didn’t think The Thin Man was a very good movie. Whatever the case, Woody’s Manhattan Murder Mystery is well within keeping with the Thin Man tradition, albeit with a heavy dose of Allen’s trademark shtick. Whereas William Powell and Myrna Loy’s Nick and Nora Charles were sophisticated wisecrackers, Larry and Carol Lipton work within the tried-and-true Allen framework: Carol is the bold and brave one, while Larry is the committed coward who gets all the great lines.

“You're suggesting we try to provoke him into murdering us?”

“You have a problem with that?”

“Well, either that, or I suddenly developed Parkinson's.”

Double Indemnity and Lady From Shanghai: This being an Allen film, there’s bound to be movie references. In addition to the suspected murderer restoring an old movie house, MMM has Larry Lipton mentioning how he wants to see a (unnamed) Bob Hope movie on late-night TV--Woody Allen is a self-confessed Bob Hope admirer—as well as the couple going to see Double Indemnity where they can be heard commenting on how they love the Billy Wilder film. In MMM’s conclusion, the twisted finale of the 1948 bizarro Orson Welles-Rita Hayworth monstrosity, Lady From Shanghai on the big screen as the movie’s resolution plays out. Allen always makes movie references in his films, and a murder mystery like Manhattan Murder Mystery is bound to have connections to 1940s Noir pictures. When I saw MMM in the theatre back in 1993, I was completely unfamiliar with those types of movies. Now, eighteen years later (*gasp!*) I can enjoy this movie on its own terms, but my enjoyment is augmented with the knowledge of having seen the movie classics referenced.

This is a worthy entry in the Husband & Wife Detective Team genre, with enough Golden Age references to interest the old Hollywood aficionado, as well as the Woody Allen connoisseur. Factor in Diane Keaton’s return as a Woody Allen leading lady (her cameo in 1987’s Radio Days notwithstanding) after a decade of Mia Farrow hegemony makes for a refreshing change of pace in Manhattan Murder Mystery, an effervescent splash of comedic escapism…hey, this piece has to end somehow, doesn’t it?

Life Imitates Art in Manhattan Murder Mystery

Tracy & Hepburn: The Definitive Collection (and Catching Up)

If there's any release that can break Hollywood Dreamland out of its moribund state, it's April 12th's release of Tracy & Hepburn: The Definitive Collection! It's a ten-disc DVD set of all nine of their films together. This blog has long been a bastion of Kate and Spencer-friendly posts, and the news of this tremendous release will snap me out of my long, long funk. It's been a horrendous year for me, folks, and I can't blame anyone for having dumped this blog to the virtual curb--or maybe they just read what I write!

Seeing this DVD set also reminded me of how much I've missed my two favorite actors of all time, the aforementioned couple pictured above, and I'd like to continue my Hepburn performance reviews as well as the Husband & Wife Detectives, a post of which is already in the works.

As for Kate and Spencer, I've long-since considered a review of Christopher Andersen's An Affair to Remember. Yes, there's much to catch up on. I miss everyone's comments the most...Oh, and I'll fix those pictures I swiped off Amazon once I get home this evening.

WARNER HOME VIDEO AND TURNER CLASSIC MOVIES (TCM) PRESENT:

TRACY AND HEPBURN: THE DEFINITIVE COLLECTION

THE FIRST AND ONLY COMPLETE COLLECTION OF TRACY AND HEPBURN FILMS DEBUTS ON DVD APRIL 12

Burbank, Calif., January 17, 2011 – Just in time for Mother’s Day, Tracy and Hepburn: The Definitive Collection, the first and only complete anthology of films starring Hollywood's dream team, debuts on DVD April 12 from Warner Home Video. The collection includes all nine remastered favorites:

Woman of the Year (1942),

Keeper of the Flame (1942),

Without Love (1945),

Sea of Grass (1947),

State of the Union(1948),

Adam's Rib (1949),

Pat and Mike (1952),

Desk Set (1957),

Guess Who's Coming To Dinner (1967),

Plus a bonus disc featuring an intimate tribute to Spencer Tracy moderated by Katharine Hepburn. This is the first time Keeper of the Flame, directed by Oscar® winning director George Cukor (A Star is Born 1954, My Fair Lady, A Double Life, Adam’s Rib, Philadelphia Story), and Sea of Grass will be available on DVD. Orders are due March 8 (SRP $59.92). Keeper of the Flame and Sea of Grass will also be available as singles (SRP $19.97 each).

Tracy & Hepburn: The Definitive Collection will also be available On Demand from cable and satellite providers. Individual film titles can also be purchased digitally through online retailers including Amazon On Demand and iTunes. Katharine Hepburn holds the record for the most Best Actress Oscar® wins with four (from 12 nominations), and was ranked by AFI as the greatest female screen legend of all time (1999). In this collection, she was nominated for an Academy Award® for Woman of the Year (1943) and won Best Actress in a Leading Role for Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner (1968).

Known for the range and diversity of characters he portrayed, Spencer Tracy tied with Laurence Olivier for the most Best Actor Academy Award® nominations. He is considered one of the finest American actors to ever grace the screen. MARKETING SUPPORT TCM will support the release of Tracy and Hepburn: The Definitive Collection with an on-air mention and product hold up by TCM host Robert Osborne, online banners and a dedicated splash page, dedicated newsletters, and an ad in the March issue of the TCM Now Playing guide.

ABOUT THE COLLECTION

The only complete collection of all nine films by on and off screen collaborators, Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn, Tracy and Hepburn: The Definitive Collection includes some of their earliest work in black and white, Woman of the Year, to their last performance together inGuess Who’s Coming to Dinner, which wrapped shortly before Spencer Tracy’s death. Also included as a 10th bonus disc is “Spencer Tracy Legacy: A Tribute by Katharine Hepburn.” In Spencer Tracy Legacy: A Tribute by Katharine Hepburn (1986), Katharine Hepburn reflects on the life of her former co-star and best friend, Spencer Tracy, in a touching and insightful look at one of the great American actors. The 87 minute documentary won two Emmys for writing and directing in 1986. The 10-disc set also includes two films never before released on DVD (Sea of Grass and Keeper of the Flame).

Philip Marlowe on Film: Death Be Not Deadly (1987)

Here's Noir icon Robert Mitchum as Philip Marlowe in this Saturday Night Live spoof (aired November 14, 1987) of hardboiled detective films. It even begins with a variation on Mitchum's own opening monologue and music from 1975's Farewell, My Lovely which was reviewed on this very blog.

Mitchum was as laconic an actor as there will ever be, but he had a mischievous-- or "mischievious", as my 12th grade English teacher used to say; is it any wonder I'm barely literate-- way about him; remember, this is the same guy who released a Calypso album with him singing on it. I like how he still wears his Texas-sized eyeglasses, which came to define the man almost as much as his cool persona. I've threatened my wife with the promise of wearing this kind of eyewear myself--I'll let you know how that goes...or maybe not.

In Death Be Not Deadly, the private eye genre is lampooned by way of Big Bob's narration, which he simply must do in order for this to be a private eye piece. Saturday Night Live's Kevin Nealon is also game here as a snotty punk. Enjoy.

The Timelessness of Cops & Detectives, or: Loose Sartorial Associations

Here’s a stream-of-consciousness post that I refuse to refine or edit. Besides, it requires more work and would only blur my original train of thought anyway...

I’ve always liked the rogue cop/detective/private eye genres. Aside from the action-oriented and individualist elements that inhabit these films, I get a sense of timelessness about them. I used to think that the only worthwhile detective movies were ones that took place circa 1934-1954, give or take a year or three. Besides, there weren’t really many contemporary detective movies from the ‘60s onward that provided the atmosphere that a black & white movie did. Oh, there were throwbacks like Chinatown, but even that referenced an earlier time.

It wasn’t until I reacquainted myself with the first two Dirty Harry movies that I realized that the rogue cop and the private eye were apart from their times and existed on the fringes of society, serving as wry and cynical observers of the world’s madness. They’re about as far removed from the everyday world as a character can be. They’re transitory figures in every respect: Their home lives are nonexistent; their relationships are limited to brief interactions with weasly snitches and frequently-tipped civil servants who provide them with leads. These guys, to quote Anthony Vincenzo in Kolchak: The Night Stalker, “don’t have a rapport with society.” They move freely within society while never belonging to any aspect of it. In fact, the cops hate the private eyes and the private eyes—who were once cops themselves—resent the bureaucrats and thugs who inhabit the force; it’s a mutual disdain that’s fueled many a movie. Cops and detectives are working towards the same goal, only they have what might be termed conservative and liberal ways of going about it.

Get ready for some clothing talk.

I was hung up on the trench coats and fedoras of that Golden Age, and associated those articles of clothing with the worlds of Mitchum, Andrews, and Bogart. How could a cop or detective get by without them? How could a guy bust crooks wearing ball hugger jeans and eye-stabbing tab collars? That could never happen…and it didn’t. Harry Callahan didn’t wear powder-blue leisure suit, ruffled cuffs, or a lemon-yellow ascot. Conservative Clint wasn’t about to trash his character’s dignity with some Neo-Edwardian duds, anyway. Dirty Harry’s wardrobe signified timelessness, with his simple sweater vests and (non-bell-bottom) slacks, and tasteful sports jacket. Yes, it was just his clothes, but it gave me the impression that Callahan was a character not of his time, and he could very well have existed alongside Robert Ryan’s Jim Wilson character in 1952’s On Dangerous Ground. Callahan existed only to do his job, and his crap attitude and non-existent social life further proved that. Gene Hackman’s Popeye Doyle and Roy Scheider’s Buddy Grosso dressed like regular Joes and eschewed the garish fashions of the early ‘70s, all the while living like animals, eating slices of crappy cardboard New York-style pizza in the freezing cold while their quarry ate sumptuous meals in the finest restaurants. Sleeping was a fleeting act between knocking drug smugglers’ heads in and choking down putrid black coffee that sat on a hot plate for two days. Heck, even funktastic private dick John Shaft wore subdued and tasteful clothes in the urban-blighted Harlem of 1971. They weren't a part of society, outside of the job they had to do, so why would they embrace any aspect of a decaying culture?

I’m sure this wardrobe stuff was all by design, though I haven’t actually seen any scholarly treatise on film detectives’ wardrobes that would confirm what I suspect, but all signs point that way. The common link that these characters had was that cynical and detached world view that’s necessary to cope in these dangerous and dehumanizing jobs. A Robert Ryan or Clint Eastwood character isn’t likely to adhere to the old lie: “People are basically good.” Wishful thinking doesn’t keep these guys alive; knowing human nature does.

And to think that this post came about because I noticed that Harry Callahan didn’t dress like a flamboyant, middle-aged pimp...

A Comment for the Archives

One of the best things about blogging is when someone comments on what you've written. 99% of the time it's something complimentary or encouraging, though it's often a way of plugging one's own site, which is how I've discovered many of the fine blogs I follow. However, every once in awhile there are comments left that amuse for all the wrong reasons. In June 2010, I posted the somewhat contentious opinion in Elizabeth Taylor: The Shrillness of You. There were some great comments left on that entry, but none more amusing and to the point than this most recent one:

"Elizabeth Taylor is one of the greatest actresses that has ever lived, and the films of Liz you claim to despise are a bunch of the greatest films made in Hollywood. I think you are a fucking ignorant idiot with no real taste."

Of course, I had to print that one! And of course, the person who left that comment had a private profile and no blog of their own, so they risked nothing in terms of their own blog. I'm amazed, but not surprised, at how fanatical classic movie fans can be about their idols. I've never understood how someone could be offended or insulted by someone else's viewpoint. I remember being equally taken aback when discovering that Judy Garland fans despise Mel Tormé because he wrote a tell-all book about his time on Garland's early '60s TV show; people should just stop with the blind hero worship.

So the question is: have you ever received a "strongly worded" rebuttal to something you've blogged about that crossed the line into the realm of personal attack?

Mad Menification Redux

Yikes! It's been awhile since I've posted, and for that my apologies. It's been an absolutely rotten start to the new year and it's already one I'd like to forget. I've developed a dim view of many things and can't remember a time I've felt so negatively about "stuff." On top of all that, my commments aren't being delivered to my gmail account-- what's the deal with that? However, the only way to get out of this misery is to write hunt and peck my way out with some tried and true Golden Age entries. I will get back into the swing of things here and catch up on what everyone else is doing. Hope your 2011 is a great one thus far and continues to treat you well.

I've "Mad Menned" myself again and added more of my new look, which is telltale grey and a beard...my stock line to anyone who says they don't like it is "Yes, but I look worse without it." Humor negates all criticism, doesn't it?

TV Noir: Johnny Staccato (1959-60)

John Cassavetes is Johnny Staccato! The 1959-60 TV series is out on DVD! Cassavetes is the title character, a struggling jazz pianist-turned private detective. I used to watch this back in 2004 when the TRIO channel aired it on its Brilliant But Cancelled theme. I'd known about the show for years and finally saw it then. John Cassavetes was great, the chicks were cute, the Crime Jazz was cool, and the atmosphere was hardboiled; I loved the shots of 1959 NYC.

My favorite episodes:

Solomon- Directed by John Cassavetes. As arty and as Noir as this show ever got. It's easy to see how Cassavetes was influenced by European directors...or maybe vice versa. Cloris Leachman and Elisha Cook, Jr. are both great in this.

Night of Jeopardy- Cool plot twist in this story about some missing counterfeit plates; the term "T-Men" gets bandied about a lot.

A Piece of Paradise- Man, is this one downbeat and tragic. A brilliant episode. This is as about as dark in content as network TV got in 1959. A jockey is accused of murder, or was it that tough cop (Bert Freed) who hassles Johnny all the time?

While some aspects of the show are entertainingly dated (Beatniks, 1959-era slang, etc), I'm impressed at how the best shows have timelessness to them, particularly the ones directed by Cassavetes himself. I get the impression that he only agreed to star in Staccato so he could finance his independent films. Speaking of which, film school students should watch these to see how B&W photography is done. As for the acting, Cassavetes is always brilliant; he even breaks into "Victor Franko" mode on occasion!

This show wasn't going to last more than one year, as it's unlike almost anything on TV at the time, if not in concept, then in execution. Though there were other "Swinging Private Eye" shows on before and during Staccato's time: 77 Sunset Strip and its various spin offs; plus Richard Diamond; Peter Gunn; and Mike Hammer, all of which were contemporaries of Staccato. However, those shows lacked the punch and power that Johnny Staccato had. Much is mentioned about the Korean War and its effects on veterans. Staccato is a Korean War vet, as well. I don't think many TV shows of the time took on issues like pacifism, or decried the anti-communist witch hunts, either. There's even a creepy episode where a ventriloquist is semingly "controlled" by his puppet; shades of 1978's Magic, which starred Anthony Hopkins.

Supporting Cast: Eduardo Ciannelli as Waldo is a delightful father figure to Johnny Staccato; Garry "Quincy, M.E." Walberg and several fine guest stars. Martin Landau and John Cassavetes in the same room? They look like brothers!

Cassavetes' voiceover is another notable aspect of the program, too. A must for Noirheads!

Bachelor Mother (1939) to DVD!

The 1939 Ginger Rogers-David Niven comedy, Bachelor Mother finally comes to DVD via the Warner Archive! I lovingly refer to the movie as "Get a blood test!", but it's a charming comedy with both Ginger and David Niven at their delightful peak. Seems that the only we classic movie folk can get our most-desired films on DVD is through these "made to order" programs. I was hesitant and skeptical about what pretty much amounts to a DV-R, but I'm also not going to deny myself a movie because of its format. Looks like I'll be ordering this along with a few other 1930s and '40s titles.

In Memoriam: James MacArthur

James MacArthur, one of the best-remembered TV sidekicks, has died at age 72. He's best known as detective Danny Williams in the original Hawaii Five-O. Here's a nice picture of him with Jane Fonda and Celeste Holm, in what looks to be the late '50s or early '60s. MacArthur was the son of stage and screen legend Helen Hayes, who adopted James when he was an infant. MacArthur grew up with showbiz personalities all around him, yet always came off as a nice, unassuming guy. Yours truly is a huge Hawaii Five-O fan, and two years ago when I wrote Mr. MacArthur an email complimenting him on his work, he was kind enough to take the time to respond with a nice email.

James MacArthur, 1937-2010.

Katharine Hepburn: Without Love (1945)

Without Love was originally a stage production about an American diplomat who comes to Washington, D.C. to persuade Ireland--neutral during WWII--to join the Allies by allowing English ships into Irish ports. The diplomat goes "undercover" as an Irish butler while staying with a wealthy American widow--Hepburn--who discovers his identity and offers to enter into a platonic marriage.

The film is one of Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy's more obscure collaborations. It lacks, well, a lot. But a "big time" director like George Cukor, Elia Kazan, or George Stevens is noticeably absent, and is the first thing that springs to mind when watching Without Love. Instead, it's helmed by competent journeyman Harold S. Bucquet ("It's Booo-kaaaay!" as TV's Hyacinth would affirm), whose final film this was, as he would die in February 1946. Bucquet, best known for the Dr. Kildare series that starred Lew Ayres, is a strange choice for a Tracy-Hepburn vehicle. It's uncertain whether Bucquet was finally getting the chance to take on A-List projects or if he merely impressed Kate enough for her to bring him in for her next project with "Spen-suh."

The movie itself is one of those affairs where everything seems to be ideal for a decent motion picture: we have a game cast with Hepburn and Tracy, a knockout crew of second bananas (Lucille Ball and Keenan Wynn), and a situation that could provide some on screen fireworks with that patented Tracy-Hepburn chemistry, but it just doesn't come together in this film. It's a huge wasted opportunity to establish Tracy-Hepburn after the triumph of 1942's Woman of the Year. Audiences wouldn't get that until 1949, with Adam's Rib.

Despite the hackneyed and contrived plot, Kate felt a degree of loyalty to playwright Philip Barry and engaged on a stage production. She wanted Spencer for the diplomat part, but the producers feared Tracy's binge drinking would put the kibbosh on the play. Instead, they cast the "blandly debonair" Elliott Nugent as the diplomat. When Nugent's drinking started in earnest (Ha!), Without Love suffered.

By 1945, MGM was looking for another smash follow-up to 1942's Woman of the Year and so Without Love's narrative was altered: the Irish political angle was jettisoned and was substituted with the post-war housing shortage, which is as dated an issue as the previous plot. In the final film, Tracy would play scientist Pat Jamieson, who's looking for a place to stay in Washington, D.C. and Kate would play a widow, Jamie Rowan, providing him room and board and the two later agree to marry with the agreement that their relationship remain platonic; hence the title, "Without Love." Hepburn ends up assisting him in his kooky experiments in what is supposed to be cute, funny, and downright wacky. Unfortunately, they're nowhere near being amusing. Oh, we do get one seen-in-many-a-Kate-Hepburn montage: that of her sneezing inside of a glass helmet and attempting to wipe her nose, only the helmet gets in the way.

As to Kate's performance, watching her in Without Love playing her character, the widowed Jamie Rowan, is like witnessing Alice Adams' life ten years later; only she's widowed, creepy, and depressed. Kate haters will cheerfully point to her role here in order to make note of all the acting mannerisms that she's infamous for among her detractors. It's strange how a performer's lesser proclivities stand out when the film they're in is disappointing. Hepburn's performance betrays the screenplays stage--and stagey--origin. It probably didn't help matters any that Spencer Tracy's performance was inconsistent; sometimes he's engaged and interested, other times he's just not interested, what with the lame dialogue and fall-flat one liners he's given to spit out, all done in an offhanded and bored manner. There's also that damned dog that gobbles up valuable screen time; the mutt, named "Diz", is no Asta.

One thing I despise about many post-World War II films--specifically 1945-49--is the mawkish, cutesy, and regressive themes that took root in Hollywood. It's like everyone wanted to get back to "normal" and make sweet-saccharine-natured Americana. How could that even be possible after the horrific events of 1939-45? Thank goodness for Film Noir and B-Movies that dealt with the dirty underbelly of American life. The sanitized fantasy world of post-WWII films is discussed at length in Joseph C. Goulden's 1976 book, The Best Years: 1945-1950. In the chapter "The Movies Flicker Out", Goulden rips into the lifeless and empty offerings that Hollywood gushed forth in the years immediately following the war. Unfortunately, Without Love must be added to that long list of awkwardly-staged failures prevalent in the motion picture industry during the immediate post-war years.

I'll give Without Love another chance. Maybe when I'm in a big post-war mood where I want a "slice of life" after World War II movie, but then I'll probably just put on The Best Years of Our Lives instead.

In Memoriam: Tony Curtis

Tony Curtis, 1925-2010

I first became aware of Tony Curtis in 1997, when I became obsessed with his 1957 movie, Sweet Smell of Success. It had everything going for it, and Tony Curtis-as-Sidney Falco was a wonderful performance. Why he wasn't nominated for a Best Actor Oscar is beyond my ability to comprehend. As I mentioned in a previous post, I watched Sweet Smell of Success every Friday night for fifteen consecutive weeks. Curtis became a hero to my pal and I, and we would quote Sidney Falco and Burt Lancaster's J.J. Hunsecker's lines constantly. Curtis became an icon of cool with us and anything he did on screen, regardless of quality, was fine with us. Curtis had made his reputaion in Sweet Smell of Success and he would always be press agent Sidney Falco to us. "A cookie full of arsenic", indeed.

I had seen Tony's breakthrough--at least as a serious actor and not mere teen idol--in The Defiant Ones, where his bigoted character John "Joker" Jackson was thrust into "equal" terms with Sidney Poitier's character, Noah Cullen. The immortal scene of Curtis and Poitier reaching out to one another while trying to escape is one of the greatest moments in cinematic history.

In 1998, I stumbled upon the 1971-72 British TV show, The Persuaders!, which I'd never heard of before. It had the future James Bond, Roger Moore, and Curtis partnered up as international playboys solving crimes in the French Riviera and throughout England. It became my all-time favorite TV show--it still is. It was a shock seeing him in middle age, though his boundless, acrobatic energy made that program the great fun it is.

Tony Curtis, 1925-2010

Distractions, Distractions--and the Warner Archive

Mike Hammer must've spent hours marvelling over his wall-mounted, reel-to-reel answering machine in Kiss Me Deadly (1955)! I've been distracted as well, though not by gadgets. Seems I've spent the last few weeks in a big comic book mood and have neglected my blogging. I'm patiently waiting for the weather to cool down, the days to get shorter, and my attention span to grow longer as Fall--Florida has a Fall, of sorts--comes and Summer (and hurricane season) finally goes away.

I'm quite enamored with the Warner Brothers. Archive! I'm quite pleased that they've released The Ex-Mrs. Bradford, which is an entry in my beloved Husbands and Wives Detectives genre, and it gives me hope to think that they'll give the "Fast" series the same treatment. They've also been introducing me to several films I've never heard of. That, coupled with their frequent sales has been great.

Okay, I promise to get back into the swing of things and get those posts that've been sitting in virtual storage...

Hepburn: The Power of Four

As soon as I saw these four statuettes standing side by side, I knew who their owner was... Katharine Hepburn, of course. These four symbols of career triumph--though meaning seemingly little to Kate--are on display at the Smithsonian. Her first Oscar, won for 1933's Morning Glory, is located on the far right. It's constructed of tin-plated bronze, whereas begininng in 1945, the Oscar was made of Britannia, a (mostly) tin alloy. Like the beat-up looking Holy Grail in that Indiana Jones movie, that first award is the one that holds the most fascination and the fact that it's all timeworn drives home the realization that it's the real thing. It was thought lost in the September 1938 New England Hurricane, but was later found intact. This Oscar had...adventures.

Whether one agrees with the movies Kate won her Oscars for--and I could and will go on about it in the future--it's still a staggering sight to see those Academy Awards all lined in a row.

Getting Down to Business

In most of the northern hemisphere, Summer is coming to an end. But not here in South Florida, where it's 93 degrees Fahrenheit (or 34 Celsius or thereabouts) all of this changiness made me I realize that I've neglected Hollywood Dreamland for too long. This thought occurred to me when Patricia Neal died and I didn't write a single word in tribute to one of my favorite "dames." So I've put my other blog of '60s and '70s stuff on indefinite hiatus. I'd love to be able to continue two blogs at once but I just don't have it in me to do so. One or the other will invariably suffer, and so the Summer fling has come to a conclusion...for now. In the meantime, I will redouble my efforts at engaging your attention and hopefully entertaining those who stumble here. I'll have a new longwinded post next week, after the Labor Day weekend debauchery.

More Scrubbing Bubbles

Never let it be said that we at HD don't honor requests. That is, we received our first (sort of) request this past week in Fluff..or Stuff?, which had Claudette "Sign of the Cross" Colbert as its main attraction. We're cleaning out the archive with the remaining bath photos we could find: Myrna Loy and another Colbert. I'm not certain which movie the Myrna pic came from. I haven't seen any of her pre-Code films!


However, we have seen Sign of the Cross, which your blogger saw once upon a long ago when AMC--then known as American Movie Classics, now known as "A Million Commercials" or "A Million Cuts." AMC's demise, at least as a relevant classic movie channel, is the single saddest event of our classic-film-loving life. There are young people who love vintage films who cannot conceive of AMC ever being *the* source for amazing-quality, commercial-free movies. The world I grew up in is most definitely not the world I "inherited." Shame.

Crushing cultural depression aside, Sign of the Cross was an eye-popping experience. Not only was it downright erotic and sensual, it was the first pre-Code movie I ever saw. The context of such explicit material being shown within a 1930s movie is what makes it so titilating, not necessarily what's being shown, or better yet, implied.

William Holden: A Timeless Appeal

A childhood friend of mine used to do a dead-on but foul-mouthed impression of William Holden. It wasn’t a putdown of the actor, but our own (twisted?) way of paying tribute to a cherished performer. And we had nothing but admiration for William Holden. Even as kids we saw the kind of power and restrained rage he brought to a role. Holden was never over-the-top or stagy, even if my friend’s impersonation was. In fact, I’d have absolutely no difficulty in claiming that William Holden is my all-time favorite actor; yes, I know I anointed someone else with that title but all lists are subject to change.

There’s absolutely nothing dated, awkward, or stilted about his presence onscreen. The work he did in the light and fluffy Sabrina is just as fresh and entertaining as the tremendous and serious work he did in Stalag 17 and Network. Even in the less-inspired movies, Holden makes it worthwhile. The cliché about “getting better as they got older” applies to no one more so than it does William Holden.

I've been watching several of his movies lately: Sabrina, The Wild Bunch, Network and of course, Stalag 17, which was a childhood favorite that was also a family favorite; it was a film the men of the house would all watch together. I’ve been impressed with Holden's choice of roles, especially during the 1950s, when he was among Hollywood’s hardest-working actors. I first took notice of him as a kid, when he decked John Wayne in John Ford’s mixed-bag Civil War-era The Horse Soldiers (how’s that for a description?).

I've come to admire the Holden head of hair, the distinctive voice and the "Golden Boy" looks. I lament the fact that he never got to play detective Philip Marlowe, a role that would have fit the cynical Holden perfectly. Maybe it’s that cynicism that keeps the Holden flame burning. Perhaps that anger and bitterness he carried with him like he was always ready to chuck the whole Hollywood sham that made him rich, famous, and miserable.

Let’s face it: the guy was Joe Gillis, the screenwriter character from Sunset Boulevard and the part that made Holden’s career. Billy Wilder--one of the most cynical Hollywood characters of all time--was the perfect collaborator for Holden. However, whereas Wilder often injected humor to balance his cynicism and is usually thought of as a “comedy” director, it was Holden who made a career out of bringing to life cynical loners in every walk of life. A selection of Holden characters all fit this description: Joe Gillis, JJ Sefton, Pike Bishop, Ross Bodine, Bumper Morgan, Max Schumacher, Tim Culley, and Patrick Foley were all men on the outside, living what they thought was a self-reliant life but who were always broken by the system and who never truly fit in with the world; the eternal outsider. I remember reading in the Bob Woodward John Belushi biography, Wired, about Holden's bitterness concerning Hollywood and what a rotten town it was/is. I read this over twenty years ago, but the sentiment made quite an impression.

I shouldn't have been surprised, though. Even though one didn't expect to read hostile and negative sentiment from a so-called “success story” of Holden's stature. This from the same actor who was quoted as saying, “If that son of a bitch hadn’t died, I would’ve had my second Oscar”, referring to his Network co-star, Peter Finch, who won the Best Actor Academy Award posthumously in the scenery-chewing performance for the ages. The screenwriter for Network was Paddy Chayefsky, another master of the cynicism game.

Holden’s was a career that never dipped or fell far from sight, despite more than a few failures. It’s still impressive how Holden kept turning in brilliant performances as he got older. Holden was robbed when he didn't even get an Oscar nomination for The Wild Bunch, his star power --not to mention his bone-weary tiredness-- carried that movie and I never tire of his performance. It isn't often that I can say that I'm happy Lee Marvin turned down a tough guy role, but in the case of The Wild Bunch, nobody could've done a better job than Holden.

As far as career legacy is concerned, I won't claim that William Holden is "forgotten", but he probably hasn't enjoyed the staying power in the collective memory of movie fans that lavish more attention on Holden’s contemporaries like Burt Lancaster, Kirk Douglas, or Robert Mitchum. I adore those actors but have come to the conclusion that William Holden is the more interesting and even superior actor, yet his ignominious end was a horrible and lonely death much like the kind Billy Wilder, Paddy Chayefsky…or Joe Gillis…might’ve banged out on his typewriter for a Holden protagonist.

Fluff...or Stuff?

When it comes to blogging, I often wonder what people prefer to read--is it the in-depth, long-winded style entry with lots of personal opinions and some well-worn data? Or is the quickie post with a swell picture and a few pithy remarks better-suited to get you through your day?

Whatever one's preference, it seems like the quicki-fun pic o' the day gets more comments--comments make this blog go 'round--but they aren't as interesting as say, a nuanced review of a film that hopefully points out things that haven't been done to death already by blood-sucking scholars in their endless quest to drain the life out of popular culture.

The in-depth posts tend to get a few interested responses, unless of course it's a broadside taking a huge--and hopefully well-argued--series of unsparing but backed-up shots on a movie or performer but they don't have the popularity of the simpler, more being-at-work appeal. The former was done on Elizabeth Taylor: The Shrillness of You. That entry got lots of great pro-and-con comments from classic film lovers and it was fun--and cathartic--to do though too many of those "I dislike such-and-such a performer and movie" thing gets too quarelsome after awhile.

What do you, my dear readers, think? What do you like best about Hollywood Dreamland? What kinds of entries do you like/dislike? I'd put that widget beneath each post but I'd prefer an interactive dialogue. Constructive criticism is always welcome.

More Stars Than There are in the Heavens

This is the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer alumni, circa 1944. Look at who's there! Kate Hepburn doesn't look too happy to be there. Robert Benchley's on the far right, third row; he'd be dead by the end of 1945. James Stewart's in his Army Air Force uniform and would be "playing soldier" for real. There are few notables missing, and it'd be more challenging to see who isn't there!

Katharine Hepburn Day on TCM

Turner Classic Movie's Summer Under the Stars is an addiction! They've earmarked August 20 as Katharine Hepburn's day and on top of that, they're playing many films from my favorite Kate era, the '30s and '40s! I've already reviewed Kate's performances in several of these movies and I'm long overdo in my review of Without Love (1945) (airs @10PM EST), which will hopefully be ready by the end of this month.

I also love the special graphics that TCM puts on their website. Let's hope the snazzy images snare unsuspecting youngsters and they're swept up into classic film.