Sunday, December 4, 2011

The Artist - Sigh

As you can see, I have not posted to this blog for some time. Why? Because my film-going experience has, quite frankly, sucked this year. Between the remakes, sequels, and T&A aimed at passive drones and the multiplex incivility of youth and adults alike, I lost the passion. And then I saw The Artist. 

This black and white, music-fuelled wordless homage to audience-pleasing films of yesteryear filled my heart to overflowing with its optimism and romance. I won't say more. Just know that The Artist, a deeply thoughtful French film that respects the art of filmmaking and the peculiar burdens of actors, is a cinematic pearl. Lead actor Jean Dujardin and composer (original music) Ludovic Bource deserve Academy Awards for the magic they concoct here. Thank you, writer-director Michel Hazanavicius, for caring enough to make the very best.





Friday, April 1, 2011

Miss Marple Discovered the Fountain of Youth















Mere blog posts and tweets cannot adequately express the nausea I feel over the announcement that the American version of Agatha Christie's tweedy super sleuth Miss Marple will be played by... Jennifer Garner.  Only a 50 year age difference there. As for critics' arguments that the beloved elderly character has rightly been contemporized, I remind them that elderly people are also contemporary, relevant, and fascinating to watch onscreen. I now eagerly await the US remake of Hercule Poirot, starring Justin Bieber

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Please Support Ian Caddell

Ian Caddell, a great guy and Vancouver film writer notable for his celebrity interviews in the Georgia Straight, and his fabulously entertaining personality, is battling cancer of the larynx. He's a single dad with four sons and I've learned through Pacific Cinematheque and Doc BC that his finances have taken a hit as he weathers this  physically and emotionally exhausting ordeal. If you are financially able, I urge you with all my heart to help Ian Caddell and his family so he can focus on getting well. Ian is a lovely man who gives generously of himself to others. It's our turn to help him.

A Trust Fund has been set up at Vancity Credit Union (Branch 2, Account 705285.) For those wishing to contribute, donations may be made at Vancity or via other inter-bank transfers.

For more information, please call Ron Harvey at 604-451-7335 or ron@reelwest.com or John Nicolls at 604-683-7454 or jnicolls@grossmanstanley.com

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Goodbye, Dame Elizabeth

Academy Award-winning actress. Temptress. Activist. Glamorous philanthropist. Mother. Grandmother. Fiercely loyal friend. Dame Elizabeth Taylor, the London-born Hollywood superstar and genuine beauty, has died at age 79 from congestive heart failure. When I heard the news this morning, the picture that came immediately to mind was of an ecstatic Taylor in a joyous embrace with Richard Burton, the love of her life. I hope they are together again.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

No One Took a Bite Out of this Tough Cookie


By Michael Oldfield

Jane Russell, who died on February 28 at age 89, was one of the last of the World War II pin-up girls.  Along with Lana Turner, Betty Grable and Rita Hayworth, Russell's face and figure were proudly displayed on the walls of army barracks and on the noses of air force bombers. But, unlike the other glamour girls of the 1940's and 1950's, Jane Russell always gave a hard edge to her characters. 

Every female Russell portrayed onscreen was a tough-talking babe with a cynical outlook who barely tolerated male advances. Every line of dialogue was delivered with a hint of a sneer on her gorgeous face. With Jane Russell, an actor didn't know whether he was going to get kissed or slugged!    

There doesn't seem to be any record of just where this persona came from. Did some studio exec urge her to play the no-nonsense gal who didn't want to be messed with? Or was it her own idea to approach every role with this cold and remote exterior? Regardless of her frosty demeanour, there was no denying her sex appeal. Onscreen, the harder she pushed men away, the faster they came running back for more. 

Her first movie, The Outlaw, was always Russell's most famous... or perhaps infamous. There are countless Hollywood legends about this film: how it was released in 1941, withdrawn because of its sexual content, and then released again in 1943; that Howard Hughes designed a special bra for her to wear in the film; that the scenes of Russell rolling around in the hay with actor Jack Buetel brought screams of outrage from all corners of society. In fact, the film is pretty tame, but the billboards and posters designed by Hughes and showing off Jane's assets are what really caused the stir and whipped up plenty of great publicity for the film. Today, the only thing notable about The Outlaw is that it gives a great lesson for movie makers in how to grab the public's interest long before they've even seen the film, that is, hype it for all it's worth and they'll be lined up at the box office.There is no bad publicity; there is only publicity.

Once The Outlaw established Russell as a major star, she was featured primarily in action films with stars like Robert Mitchum, Clark Gable and Jeff Chandler.  Always, she was the unreachable femme fatale who rejected her beefy co-stars in scene after scene, but finally succumbed in the final reel. Even in comedies such as The Paleface from 1948, she sneered contemptuously at Bob Hope for being a weakling. Everyone in this film seems to be having a good time except for Jane, who plays a two-fisted, gun-toting desperado.   

One year after being teamed with Marilyn Monroe in the musical, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, in 1953, Russell was given the lead in another musical called The French Line. Wearing a one-piece bathing suit with large chunks cut out of it, Jane Russell was once again the centre of controversy as church groups and other offended people voiced their objections to this blatant display of sexuality on the screen. Needless to say, this clamour guaranteed long line-ups at the box office.


Despite being labelled as a pin-up or glamour girl, Russell's private life was free from the scandals that plagued other actresses. She became a devoted Christian and made recordings with a Hollywood gospel group.   

After her final film in 1970, Russell continued to appear on television, in nightclubs and on Broadway. She also founded the World Adoption International Agency, which has helped with the adoptions of more than 40,000 children from overseas.  

Jane Russell will definitely be remembered as not just another pretty face, but as an actress who had more in common with Barbara Stanwyck than Betty Grable. She was always the loner, the tough dame with a past who was not interested in any guy's sweet talk.

Despite the storms of controversy caused by the clothing she wore in The Outlaw and The French Line, Jane Russell was always interesting to watch on the screen. Not for her the role of the giggling purring sex kitten.   I guess we can say... she did it her way.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Too Excited to Sleep

Okay. It's that time of year again when I can't sleep properly because I'm so pumped about the Academy Awards. There are supposed to be 5 more sleeps until The Best Awards Show Ever In This Universe. I call it '5 more awakes'.

Instead of snoring deep in REM sleep, the thrilling realization that Colin Firth  (The King's Speech) and Christian Bale (The Fighter) will at long last win Oscars (that they really earned for their riveting roles in 2009's A Single Man and 1987's Empire of the Sun, respectively) has me beside myself with excitement. What if this? What if that?

Will these superstars thank their beaming wives while the orchestra bullies them offstage? Will they openly wipe away tears of joy, relief, and exhaustion? Will they pretend their noses are itchy and scratch them during their acceptance speeches to mask their emotions? Or will they be manly men, lowering their voices a notch, and making groaners to hide the tsunami of ecstasy swelling up inside their tuxes? 

Mock my words, if you will. But you know winning an Oscar means more to actors than banging Scarlett Johansson and Javier Bardem at the same time in a king-sized feather bed overlooking the Mediterranean. Quite simply, winning an Academy Award means the honoree can now drop dead on a Libyan film set as soon as March, with his or her legacy, if not limbs, intact.

I can't wait to see how pregnant Natalie Portman is on Sunday night. And will True Grit's annoying Hailee Steinfeld remain all aww-shucks cutesy-pie when Melissa Leo or Helena Bonham Carter's name is called in the Best Supporting Actress category? 

For the life of me, I can't foresee which film will win Best Picture. Sure, everyone's falling over their crumpets with praise for The King's Speech. I think it's just a clever marketing campaign. If that royal flick wins, it's only because William and Kate are tying the knot this year and it's a nice movie & monarchs tie-in. I got more of a rush from The Social Network and Black Swan. Why can't one of them win?  We'll see. If I can keep my eyes open by then.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Pain at the Multiplex

 















Most people were doing the red, white, and pink carnation boogie with their honeybunnys on Valentine's Day. Not moi. 

Fighting a post-New York cold, and gnawing on a Rice Krispie marshmallow treat, I bundled up against the super soaker rain and went to Cineplex Tinseltown for a double header:  Derek Cianfrance's Blue Valentine (starring Oscar nominee Michelle Williams) and Denis Villeneuve's (and Canada's) Academy Award Foreign Film Nominee, Incendies. Oy!  

Both are splendid films for completely different reasons. But between the two of them, I witnessed enough dead animals, murdered children, rape, thrashings, childbirth scenes, abortion scenes, and senseless, unending desolation to last a LIFETIME.

It's screenings like those, however, that make me grateful for, oh, Will Ferrell, Vince Vaughn and the boys. Those lovable kooks are the simple sorbets that cleanse our cinematic palates before we relish the next rich, exotic entree. The veteran filmgoer needs and appreciates all flavours.