Happy Birthday Deborah Kerr!

Deborah Kerr is a real classy dame. The Scottish lass started off on the English stage but her peaches and cream complexion and lilting voice were discovered in 1941 by English film producer Gabriel Pascal and the rest, as they say, is film history. She made a splash in English films like Major Barbara (1941) and The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (1943) and six years later she crossed the pond to work for MGM. Kerr racked up six Oscar nominations in her ensuing movie career until she became disgusted with the sex and violence of Hollywood films and retired in 1969.

The Academy's oversight in not giving this great actress a statuette was remedied in 1994 when she was presented with an honorary Oscar. I can't put it any better than Glenn Close did when she presented Kerr with her long overdue award.

In honor of what would have been her 95th birthday (she passed away in 2007), here are my Top 5 Deborah Kerr pictures:






Black Narcissus (1947)

I've written a titch about Black Narcissus as it pertains to screen censorship, but let's talk about how gorgeous this movie looks. Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger were geniuses in the use of Technicolor. The greens, pinks, reds, and deep blues of this film transcend the two dimensions of the screen, giving rich life to the image.

More than just visual, these colors are used to maximum psychological effect. The deserted palace that these nuns now inhabit seems haunted by the colorful lives that have long since passed. All that is left is the color to coax these sisters from their sheltered lives. Both the cinematography and the sets would win Oscars.

One of the most fascinating aspects of Kerr's screen persona is her "veddy, veddy" British demeanor that at first appears reserved and cautious. But beneath Kerr's blue-green eyes burned desirous passions. This talent of Kerr's found perfect expression as Sister Clodagh, a woman trying to escape a past love by running off to the nunnery- only to find that you can't escape passion. Even in an old convent perched on Himalayan cliffs, love- and madness will find you.

From Here to Eternity (1953)

Even if you haven't seen From Here to Eternity, it's very probable that you've seen Kerr in the movie. The image of Kerr  macking Burt Lancaster right into the sand as a wave crashes over them is one of the most iconic in Hollywood history. But there's more to this multi-storied film than just that famous smooch.

The plot takes place on a Hawaiian army base right before the beginning of WWII. Montgomery Clift  (Oscar-nommed) is Private Prewitt who likes playing a horn instead of boxing- because you can't blind anyone with a trumpet. But his captain doesn't approve and proceeds to try and make his life hell until he boxes. So the Captain orders Sergeant Warden (Lancaster who was Oscar-nommed too)  to crack down on Pru, but what the C.O. doesn't know is Warden is making it with his wife (Kerr) while he's away.

All this abuse drives Pru to the local jukejoint/whorehouse where he falls into the arms of a prostitute (Oscar-winning TV housewife Donna Reed). During one of his visits, his best friend Maggio (Frank Sinatra winning his only Oscar) pisses off Hawaiian-shirted 'Fatso' (Ernest Borgnine in a beastly role that amazingly didn't get a nomination) and keeps paying for it for the rest of the film.

It sounds complicated- and it is- but it works as a sort of male-starring soap opera. Directed by Fred Zinnemann (Yes, another Oscar winner), the film does a great job of portraying the intersection of a group of people who are all dissatisfied with their lives in one way or another- finding in those connections some sort of fulfillment- however short-lived.

Kerr is wonderful as a neglected wife who is forced to choose between an unhappy- but stable marriage and a passionate romance. Joan Crawford was originally considered for the role- but was rejected when she insisted on using her own cameraman. I love my Crawford, but Kerr has an innate soft, damaged quality that really works in the role- earning Kerr her second Oscar nom. Eternity went on to win eight Academy Awards including Best Picture, but Kerr and Lancaster were not among them. As a consolation prize, we will always see them making out on that beach.

The King and I (1956)

A lush Rodgers and Hammerstein score with several indelible songs, gorgeous Thai sets and costumes (both of which won Oscars), Yul Brynner with his shirt off- What's not to love about The King and I?

This musical re-telling of the popular, somewhat true novel Anna and the King of Siam was a smash on Broadway and expectations were high for the film version. Since Yul Brynner had won a Tony for his role as King Mongkut of Siam (I like to call him Mong the Shirtless) he was a shoe-in for the movie.

Sadly, Gertrude Lawrence who won a Tony for her portrayal of Anna died from cancer, so a new Anna had to be found. After seeing her stagework, Brynner suggested Kerr- and while studio execs loved her looks and her acting, they didn't love her singing pipes. So legendary ghost-singer Marni Nixon was called-in to be Kerr's singing voice.

Nixon at a screening of the film talked about Kerr quite fondly, pointing out that most of the time actresses were told not to make it public that they were dubbed. But Kerr proudly announced that the beautiful voice you heard was Nixon's- giving credit where credit was due. That sense of independence and fairness shows in her plucky portrayal of Anna.

K & I is not without its issues. The casting of Russian Brynner and Puerto Rican Rita Moreno as Asians and the "Small House of Uncle Thomas" musical fantasy number are reminders that Hollywood musicals aren't shooting for racial authenticity. Heck! The film is banned in Thailand cause they don't like the portrayal of the king. But with nine Academy award nominations- including five wins (Kerr lost to Ingrid Bergman for Anastasia) this musical is worth some suspension of disbelief.

Tea and Sympathy (1956)

Speaking of stage to screen transfers, Kerr was no slouch on the boards herself. Even after she became a movie star she returned to the theater and in 1953 starred in the controversial Broadway play Tea and Sympathy. The story revolves around a young prep student named Tom (played both on Broadway and in the movie by the unrelated John Kerr) who has trouble at school because- well, he's a big old nelly.

But in the Fifties it wasn't as easy as recording an "It Gets Better" segment or going to your prom with your straight best friend. Openly discussing homosexuality was difficult on stage- and it was verboten on the screen (not to mention in real-life). Many thought the play's touchy subject would make it impossible to be made into a movie. But director Vincente Minnelli and writer Robert Anderson found a way to do it.

In the film, lots of codewords are used to describe Tom- like, "sensitive", "artistic", and "sister boy". All of which mean he does not measure up to the standard of masculinity that society dictates to young men. So Tom gets bullied and ostracized- which distresses Laura (Kerr) the wife of the sports coach. She decides to nurture the boy and provide him a safe haven to read, listen to classical music, and have a soft, feminine shoulder to cry on... and more.

What the film gets wrong by trying to hetero-wash Tom's sexuality and in a changed ending make Laura apologize for trying to "awaken" Tom, it gets right by highlighting that feeling of "otherness."

Minnelli was familiar with how it felt to not match society's definitions of manliness, and he beautifully depicts that yearning to be yourself while at the same time confronting a society that wants you to conform to sexual standards. Cinematically Minnelli creates a space where Tom can be Tom- much like the movies gave Minnelli a place to be an artist. T & S is a relic in how it addresses sexuality, but relics are also reminders of how far we've come- and how far we still have to go.

An Affair to Remember (1957)

I guess you could call it flattery when a Nora Ephron flick references one of your favorite classic romantic movies, bringing it back into the cultural zeitgeist. But I swear if one more person refers to An Affair to Remember as that "movie in Sleepless in Seattle"- there will be blood.

Affair is a re-make of the Charles Boyer/Irene Dunne starrer Love Affair (1939). And when I say re-make I mean it's literally a re-make. Director Leo McCarey who directed both movies saw no reason to change the script from the successful original and made very few changes. What did change was the actors- and while Boyer and Dunne are great- Cary Grant and Kerr are pure movie magic.

Nickie Ferrante (Grant) and Terry McKay (Kerr) meet cute on a transatlantic cruise and while sparks fly, both are in relationships with other people, so shipboard bridge partners are all they can be. But as the ship steams along, so do their feelings for each other, and before long they have fallen madly in love with each other. A trip to Nickie's Grandmere's bucolic Mediterranean home seals the deal and the two promise to meet each other at the top of the Empire State Building in six months if they are able to break-up with their respective partners and start a new life together. I will say no more.

Grant and Kerr have the kind of screen chemistry that legends are made of. The two are equals at witty banter and charm. Both know how to dress impeccably and order the best champagne- and drink it. The way they look at each other seems at once so human and so much more intense than real life. They are an impossible ideal that we nevertheless long for. It's no wonder we tear-up at An Affair to Remember- it's a cinematic impossibility that we wish wasn't so impossible.

No wonder Meg Ryan and Rosie O'Donnell blubbered watching it.

Top 5 New York, New York Movies

This week I've been busily showing my visiting sister and niece the Big Apple. Sure they get to see tourist sites like Times Square, One World Trade, Central Park, and Rockefeller Center- but they also get to experience those little spots that make New York unique- like Penelope, Marie's Crisis, and even a drag restaurant where Joan Rivers is still alive.

I'm in a New York state of mind, and I can't help but remember all those movies that have used New York City locations so effectively- essentially making me fall in love with a real city by watching celluloid fantasies. And coincidentally, the new Ghostbusters movie comes out today with lots of shots of Manhattan. Don't believe the haters. It's fun. Trust me.

So here they are- my Top 5 New York, New York movies!:

Sweet Charity (1969)

Charity (the one and only Shirley MacLaine) is a dancehall gal whose romantic life is as confused as she is. If she isn't getting thrown off a bridge in Central Park, she's being abandoned in a movie star's bedroom (with a bedspread made of three kinds of fur!), or dumped by her fiance (the recently RIP John McMartin) because her job is a little too risque for his taste. But through it all Charity's pluck endures and insures there is always another musical number right around the corner.

The plot is based on the Fellini classic Nights of Cabiria (1957) and tends to wander around town. But MacLaine's goofy screen persona and the fantastic songs like the opening number, "My Personal Property" really make Sweet Charity a pleasant trip. The biggest hit from the show, "Hey Big Spender" is a cabaret bar mainstay- and the West Side Story-esque visuals of "There's Gotta Be Something Better Than This" make you want to leap around on your rooftop like MacLaine, Chita Rivera, and Paula Kelly.

MacLaine croons the sweet "It's a Nice Face" to a passed out stranger in an elevator and "Rich Man's Frug" gives the mini-dress and the pony-step a real meltdown at The "God I wish this place actually existed" Pompeii Club. Charity isn't very deep- it's just plain old fun.

Much of director Bob Fosse's creative use of song and site benefits from being shot on location in New York City with Central Park, the Top of the Rock, Yankees Stadium, and Wall Street setting the stage for Charity's romance and dance numbers. It might be said that Charity's real love affair is with New York. Look for a brief cameo by future Harold and Maude (1971) star Bud Cort at the end.

Sweet Smell of Success (1957)

A sweetly titled movie that is not so sweet, Sweet Smell is the acid-toned story of young press agent, Sidney Falco (Tony Curtis), who is willing to do anything to get in good with Walter Winchell-esque Broadway columnist J.J. Hunsecker (Burt Lancaster- who co-produced as well as starred). But as always happens to these ambitious young thangs, Sidney gets much more than he bargained for when he waltzes with the devil.

The film is legendary for its dialogue- a verbal dance with tongues made of barbed wire. Ernest Lehman who wrote the short-story the piece is based on worked up the film script initially, but became deathly ill so famed playwright Clifford Odets finished the job. Lehman would later admit that the working environment with Lancaster & Co. was toxic, and nearly killed him. But with lines like, "The cat's in the bag, and the bag's in the river," it would seem the script's birth by fire was worth it. The Vanity Fair expose on the making of the film is well worth a read.

Lancaster and Curtis are terrific with both screen idols dropping their "good guy" images to play two of the slimiest characters ever teamed-up on the screen. The darkness of these two characters is mirrored by James Wong Howe's stunning chiaroscuro lighting scheme that makes the inside of popular bars and nightclubs look like depraved opium dens- all to the strains of a jazzy Elmer Bernstein score.

1950's Times Square is on full display here with the legendary intersection and real life locations like the Brill Building, 21 Club, and Toots Shor Restaurant providing the frenetic energy that drives the film (even though the interior of 21 was recreated on a Hollywood set). The director found it hard to get some of those shots as the screaming Tony Curtis fans frequently broke through barricades to get a piece of their matinee idol. Don't bite too hard girls. He tastes like "a cookie full of arsenic."

The King of Comedy (1982)

Director Martin Scorsese is a New Yorker born and bred- so it's easy to see why The City That Never Sleeps is a main character in many of his early films. While Taxi Driver (1976) is legendary for its NYC locations, I'm also fond of Scorsese's use of the city in his stab at the entertainment biz, The King of Comedy.

Rupert Pupkin (Robert De Niro before he stopped trying) is an aspiring comic. He's done the work. He's crafted his jokes. He's followed the careers of successful comics. Heck, he's even created a talkshow set in his apartment complete with cardboard cutouts for guests and a wallpaper audience. What more does he need to do to get a gig? In Rupert's mind, kidnap the most successful talkshow host in America (Jerry Lewis playing himself?) and make him put Rupert on his show.

King of Comedy is so great because while it winkingly highlights the impossibility of making it in the entertainment industry, it also shines a blacklight on the obsessed uber-fans that provide the fuel for our stars. Pupkin isn't just crazy for stalking Jerry Langford, he's crazy for wanting to be like him in the first place. De Niro does oddly-intriguing crazy well, and Rupert, while clearly insane, feels as sad as he does threatening.

The same cannot be said of his friend Masha. In the hands of Sandra Bernhard, this obsessed fan is every star's worst nightmare- a sex-crazed lunatic who has no regard for personal space or volume. Lewis as Langford plays the role of a lifetime as the world-weary, nasty comic- sick of fame, sick of fans, and sick of himself.

'80's Midtown Manhattan is on full display here with lots of West Side and Times Square grittiness to take the shine off the television talkshow. My favorite location is the former Paramount Building at 1633 Broadway- where I have worked for the last 16 years.

Manhattan (1979)

Woody Allen is the quintessential New York filmmaker. No other director (except for perhaps Scorsese) has had a bigger role in depicting New York City on the big screen. So it should come as no surprise that Allen's movie Manhattan is a visual loveletter to his favorite town.

The film opens with a black and white montage of New York underscored by Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue": The Manhattan skyline, Staten Island Ferry, 5th Avenue, Washington Square Park, Fulton Fish Market, Guggenheim Museum, Central Park. Allen narrates, "New York is my town- and it always will be." He has a confidence about this place- a confidence in its joys, letdowns, hypocrisies, and human truths.

Allen plays Isaac Mortimer Davis, a twice-divorced, 42-year-old TV comedy writer who is hopelessly entangled with a 17 year-old girl (Mariel Hemingway). It's creepy even without the events that would unfold later in Allen's personal life.

But Isaac also finds himself attracted to the woman that his best friend is having an affair with- the much more grown-up Mary (Allen's then muse, Diane Keaton). The two talk as the sun comes up over the Queensborough bridge- and one of the most iconic shots of New York City is born. The romantic entanglements ensue with the sort of hopeless optimism that has become Allen's trademark.

Allen skillfully uses New York City as a sort of picture frame for the film's various scenes. Whether it's the aforementioned dawn-breaking conversation in Sutton Place, or Allen and Keaton getting to know each other in the shadows of the Hayden Planetarium, or the final scene where Allen confronts his young paramour in the lobby of a New York apartment building, the city is more than a setting. It accents and reflects the internal desires of Allen's characters, drawing us into their city and their lives.

Allen has set some of his films in other towns, but there is an ease and a comfort to his New York work that sets it apart. You can tell Woody Allen loves New York- and he passes that love on to the audience.

Eyes of Laura Mars (1978)

I love a good feminist horror film. Some may scold me for using the term 'feminist' in relation to a thriller movie about a fashion photographer and a serial killer- but trust me Laura Mars is all about critiquing the male gaze. Laura (the uber fashionable Faye Dunaway) is a famous photographer along the lines of Helmut Lang who likes to take pictures of models in gruesome murder poses. The girls are scantily clad and are usually being killed. Laura assumes these "visions" are just her creative intuition, but when she begins experiencing spells where she sees through the eyes of an actual serial killer, and that she is the next target, she seeks help from skeptical New York detective John Neville (Tommy Lee Jones).

The conceit of a woman who loses her sight to see what a man sees, then duplicates that vision in her own art is a clever way of addressing the relationship between women, men, and media. So many of us are swept up by the images we see- without thinking that the source of these images (even if they are created by women) is often from a male perspective.

The makeup, the hair, the clothing, the advertising of these products- it's all created to please men. In Laura Mars, director Irvin Kershner hints that this image is destructive, and women can be complicit in how they are viewed by men and themselves. After all, Laura sees herself from her stalker's perspective.

All that deep-dive analysis aside, the film is a really fun thriller with Dunaway throwing herself into the role of terrified victim with wide-eyed relish. The fashion shoots are a scream as is Rene Auberjonois' performance as a flamboyantly gay manager. His Lloyd Bridges impersonation is to die for.

The film was shot in several New York locations including the apocalyptic fashion shoot in Columbus Circle, the warehouse photography studio along the Chelsea waterfront, Dunaway's slit-skirt trot along Canal and Greene Streets, and the model funeral at Westchester's own Ferncliff Cemetery- the final resting place for such luminaries as Joan Crawford, Judy Garland, and Madame Chiang Kai-shek. If you're going to be pursued by a crazy psycopath, there's no place chic-er than New York City.

What movies make you think of the Big Apple?

Welcome to Lance's Werthwhile Classic Movie Diary!

Welcome, Movie (or Lance) Fans!

I am a classic movie nut. Everyone who knows me knows it. My family knew it when I papered my bedroom walls with Marilyn Monroe posters. My friends knew it when I loudly complained at our local watering hole that Christina Crawford's liar-liar-pants-on-fire book, Mommie Dearest ruined Joan Crawford's cinematic legacy. Everyone who's been on a date with me knows it when I make a Palm Beach Story reference and they stare blankly at me, my chances of getting laid disappearing like Rudy Vallee's chances of making it with Claudette Colbert. (That's a Palm Beach Story reference for those of you who have never been on a date with me.) I'm an out, loud and proud classic movie lover. So why not share that love with literally everyone on the internets, by writing a blog about movies?

So whenever I see something worth blogging about- a great old movie I've seen, a newer movie that doesn't make me roll my eyes, one of the silver screen greats passing away, a notable anniversary, or anytime something pops into my black and white mind- you can read about it here.

To get things started, how's about my thoughts on some movies I saw in 2015?

Weekend (2011)
I'd heard my gay mates and reviewers everywhere talk about how great this movie was. But because I have an aversion to movies where pretty people get to live fantastic gay lives that just make me envious, I sort of avoided it. I shouldn't have. There's nothing to envy in this dark romance. Weekend is equal parts hopeful love story and tragic, fatalistic love story. Not since Midnight Cowboy (1969) have I gotten a boner and cried all in the same movie.
Note- Do not watch this film with a man you've just fallen in love with who lives in another country, so you can't really be together. Trust me.

The Innocents (1961)
I love female gothic films. I've written papers on them. Female gothic films are to me what pizza is to fat kids. So I had to see this movie. Like a more spectral version of Rebecca (1940), Deborah Kerr is a governess who heads to a lonely manse in the countryside of England to take care of two creepy kids who seem like pint-sized adults. Things soon start going bump in the night and Deborah gets to walk through dark halls with candles questioning her own sanity. The look and sound of the film are terrifying and Deborah Kerr is always worth the price of admission.

Inside Out (2015)
I don't normally do kids movies, but the aforementioned foreign man who has become my boyfriend loves them. So I went, and like just about everyone else in the world, was charmed by this imaginative depiction of how our inner lives grow from childhood. What makes the concept of the different "emotional voices" work spectacularly is the voice casting. Amy Poehler, Phyllis Smith, Lewis Black, Bill Hader, and Mindy Kaling are all the embodiment of their various animated emotions. And Richard Kind as the manifestation of our unleashed childhood imagination was so spot-on that I could swear I heard Bing-Bong in my own head after I left the movie. This one will take the Best Animated Feature Oscar at this year's awards easily (Sorry, Minions). It might even nab a Best Picture nom. Not bad for a kiddie movie.

Pinky (1949)
I'm intrigued by Hollywood films about race and one groundbreaking film I'd always heard about was Pinky. Based on the novel by Cid Ricketts Sumner (who names their kid Ricketts?), the film stars Jeanne Crain as a light-skinned black woman who returns to her hometown to see her mother (Ethel Waters) who is devastated to find out that her daughter has been "passing" as white. But the racist, old bat neighbor nee plantation owner (played deliciously by Ethel Barrymore- two Ethels in one movie!) needs a nurse- so this is a chance for Jeanne to figure out whether she is black or white. Along with films like Imitation of Life (1934), Hollywood seemed unable to really address the race issue without easing into it with plotlines involving people who were black- but not black. While it might seem dated and colorblind to the real issues, it is interesting to watch America's struggle with race relations play out on the big screen.

It Follows (2014)
Modern horror movies usually leave me pretty cold. They seem obsessed with gore and violation of women, and quite frankly, I get enough of that watching the Republican debates. But It Follows is different. This movie takes the familiar horror trope of punishing teens who have premarital sex to a whole new level. Poor Jay (Maika Monroe) is hot and bored, so of course she winds-up having sex with the boy she has a thing for. The problem is she awakens to find herself being chased by a naked spirit that only she can see. How can she get rid of it? She has to have sex with someone else which will pass the relentless, clothing-averse spook onto them. The moral question is scrumptious and the Kubrickian camerawork and John Carpenter homage score make this film legitimately scary.

The Skeleton Twins (2014)
Like modern horror, modern comedies often leave me scratching my head saying, "What was so funny?" I'm more of a Preston Sturges than a Seth Macfarlane. But this movie about two horribly damaged adult siblings was funny... and sad. It's also sad. Kristen Wiig and Bill Hader are so wonderfully connected and yet disconnected as the titular twins. Hader plays Milo without all the effete giggling of his famous Stefan character and Wiig has grown into an actress with chops bigger than her SNL: Weekend Update beginning. The emotional tie between these two feels real- and while something feeling "real" on-screen is not a pre-requisite for cinematic success- in a story that hinges on the relationship between two such oddball characters, it does elevate the film above simple comedy.

The Martian (2015)
Matt Damon plays Ripley from the Alien movies only without any alien. This film is the thinking man's space thriller with the focus being on problem-solving rather than explosions. If it weren't for Damon's charming screen persona, this movie would have held all the interest of a NASA training film about the benefits of duct tape. Ridley Scott makes everything look properly cinematic and with all the popular support, expect this film to land a Best Picture and Best Director nom at this year's Academy Awards. But seriously, after seeing what Cuaron did with Gravity (2013), I expected something more... and if Matt Damon was stranded alone on another planet, wouldn't he wear pants less often?

Brute Force (1947)
This would have to be my pick for my favorite movie I saw last year. One of my old Hollywood mentors, Steve Vaught- Hollywood Historian sent me home from Palm Springs with the Criterion DVD of Brute Force, and I am so happy I shoved it into my carry-on. Jules Dassin directs this gritty look at the male prison system without all the camp one-liners and Edward G. Robinson tough guys that usually populate earlier prison films. Burt Lancaster (He's in prison... of course I'm watching) keeps trying to break out, but power-hungry prison captain Munsey (a truly evil performance from Hume Cronyn) always gets his man. But can anyone ever stop Burt Lancaster from getting what he wants? Dassin helped institutionalize cinema verite qualities in noir and this film is a high-point for his career. These men are complicated. The prison system is complicated. This movie is not. It works simply to convey the complexity of its topic. With great work from an ensemble cast full of "isn't he's?", I was riveted... and not just because Burt takes his shirt off.

Tangerine (2015)
You know that movie that everyone was crowing about because it was shot entirely on an iPhone? This is that movie. I'll be honest. I'm not impressed by the idea that something was shot on a phone. Movies should look like movies, not like a click-bait Youtube channel. But just as movie pioneers lugged giant, boxy film cameras up mountains and through deserts to create movies, director Sean Baker has upped his cellplan and turned out a compelling piece of modern verite. Sin-Dee (Kitana Kiki Rodriguez) has just been released from jail and is shocked to hear from her best friend Alexandra (Maya Taylor) that her pimp boyfriend has been cheating on her. What follows is a modern-day trans odyssey for truth, love, and a Los Angeles donut shop. As Baker's phone runs all over L.A. in the pursuit of these harried people, we get the sense that the veil between make-believe Hollywood and real life has been pierced- if only for one Christmas Eve. Caitlyn Jenner is campaigning heavily for the movie and its leads- but you shouldn't expect too much Oscar love for this little gem.

Well, that was some of what I saw in 2015.
What do you think?