Fanfare for the Common Man

Friends, not a lot of movie watching has been going on this week. We watched Moon a few nights ago, but it was on the Bluray, which means no screen captures (the computer won't run it) and I said back in July that it's good and if you don't know that by now I'm sorry for you and this means all of you in the Academy Awards voting corral. I pity your taste in film, you bastards. I mean, honestly, The Blind Side??. Why even watch the Oscars this year?

Which reminds me, last night Titanic was on Turner ... I still don't get it. Better than L.A. Confidential how exactly?

We've been watching a fair amount of the Olympics. NBC's coverage is irritating and most of what I want to see is on at midnight, but last night they showed the bobsled, which I like a lot, and, patience won out past the foofy ice skating and I finally got to see Italy take gold in the slalom. Slovenia was close, so the cousin/roommate also had a stake in it, but that Razzoli was amazing down the slope -- e un peccato per voi, Slovenia. And Alberto Tomba cried and the NBC talkers said it was because it was an emotional moment and I say it's because he's Italian, but it was cute either way.

But we also take in a lot of what they show on CNBC because 1) they show the whole event and 2) the commentators are sort of sweet and homey. Sure, most of what they're showing is Czech Republic playing Norway in hockey, but I started to really enjoy their coverage of curling and the "Oh, well, that would be the shot to make" way they announced it.

Mostly I liked watching the Canadians destroy everyone.

Mostly I liked watching the Canadians.

Mostly I liked watching this Canadian:

John Morris: curler, pin-up boy

And when they won, I cried like Tomba.

A Movie Nearly Every Night: Moonstruck

Moonstruck (1987)
Dir: Norman Jewison
Starring: Cher, Nicholas Cage, Vincent Gardenia, Olympia Dukakis

"Chrissy, bring me the big knife." "No, Ronny! I won't do it!"

I know, I might as well say I like When Harry Met Sally or admit publicly how many times I've seen Working Girl, but this movie keeps me mesmerized every time it's on television. I used to just let it wash over me and accept the attraction as the lure of the Italian family that it captures so accurately, whether it's with everyone seated in the kitchen having breakfast,


or the silly way Aunt Rita and Uncle Raymond talk about the sex they had the night before,

"You were a tiger last night."
"And you were a lamb, soft as milk."
"HUSH UP. You want them to hear you?"

or Loretta and her mother going to confession at church and doing penance and sharing that kind of hard New York style mother-daughter confidence (Rose sighing about her husband having an affair but has no proof -- "A wife knows" -- and Loretta, always pragmatic, replying: "You don't know."),


or the little Italian woman who puts a curse on Johnny's plane to Sicily because her sister's on dat plane and "fifty years ago she stole a man from me. S'aprese il mio uomo. Today she tells me that she never loved him, that she took him to be strong on me" so she's cursed the plane to go into the ocean,


but both the woman and Loretta admit that they don't really believe in curses.

These are all so real and familiar, that it makes this movie a comfortable blanket to put on when it's cold outside. It's a sip of red wine and a sandwich. But this time I thought that maybe it's Nicholas Cage that really attracts me --

"You've got a love bite on your neck."

because I don't like Nicholas Cage. I have a hard time watching any movies he's in because he's always kind of dopey and dull, but with a creepy look behind his eyes that betrays his crazy personal weirdness. When I used to watch this movie I always considered him the weakest link, with his shouting that he wants her to "come upstairs and GET in my bed. I don't care why you come ... no I don't mean that" like he's trying to be this macho guy, but then taking it back and so there was no grasping his character the way he was played on the screen.

And then I realized there really was something to it: He's opera.

Ronny lives his life like it's an opera, especially through all of his dramatic arias: he has an aria about his hand;

"I ain't no freakin' monument to justice! I lost my hand! I lost my bride!"

about how he's going to cut his throat in front of Loretta so she can tell his brother on their wedding day; his big passionate crazy declaration about how love isn't perfect; the way he throws the table over and carries Loretta into the bedroom --- it's all done in these giant, overdone ways that's perfect for the operatic Ronny. He loves Loretta and he loves the opera. That's it. And it's shaped him as a character, and I appreciated him more, that Ronny Cammareri.

I liked him.

I still don't like Nicholas Cage much, but Ronny, he's okay.

"Do ya love him, Loretta?"
"Oh, ma, I love him awful."
"That's too bad."

Facts About Projection

UK job site reed.co.uk sponsored a short film contest about the workplace. This is my favorite:



For more they're at www.reed.co.uk/film

Dear Wuh

I knew there was a reason I liked his face.

Pretty (but really deadly) swordsman in the Samurai triology

Calm (and suddenly deadly) Japan Organized Crime Boss

I loves Koji Tsuruta.

A Movie Nearly Every Night: Far from the Madding Crowd

Far from the Madding Crowd (1967)
Dir: John Schlesinger
Starring: Julie Christie, Terence Stamp, Peter Finch, Alan Bates

"Why is love such a misery?"

Valentine's Day is a day for love and spending the right amount of money on the right thing to please the right person. It used to be so much simpler in Thomas Hardy's day, when a little card like this

could be sent by a vain ("she checks 'er mirror to sees if 'er nightcap is on straight") but beautiful woman like this

to a lonely ("'tis said he has no passionate parts") landowner like this

and what's the worst that could happen, right?

Friends, I loves the Thomas Hardy. He wrote Victorian soap operas with good stories and kooky plot devices sure to set balls rolling every which way: gamble off your family, lose a letter, not read the sign at the church --- he's great for screwing up people's lives. Everyone marries the wrong person and stuff happens and people die and the locals talk in Dorset dialect and yet somehow it works out at the end (usually by people dying).

This movie version follows the book faithfully in gorgeous-yet-filthy Victorian settings and detail: Sturdy, reliable Gabriel Oak has nice suits for church, but they're studded with sheep wool from the farm; Bathsheba is lovely Julie Christie, who is ready to put boots on under her nightdress to go cover the ricks during a storm; and Sergeant Troy ... well, he's just plain lovely even if his hair doesn't always look entirely combed or clean.

Kneel before Zod

Everyone is wonderful --- Terence Stamp a little more wonderful than the others in some ways --- and watching the actors inhabit these people and make the characters come to life is treat treat treat. Poor Gabriel's face in the church watching his true love with someone else is subtle but so sad and so real that it's a killer. No dialog just sharp focus and key lighting with cuts to him working the fields and seeing someone else reap the benefits.


He's worried, but there's also something that's left him empty: He does for her and does for her and does for her and this is the thanks he gets? Watching her in the front row of the church singing homey harvest hymns with someone else? Man. It's even more touching when he realizes up close what it's done to poor tormented Mr. Boldwood.


Where Alan Bates' Gabriel is somewhat resigned to his position Peter Finch's Boldwood is crushed and driven mad by desire for Bathsheba. Watching Peter Finch hound Julie Christie for a marital promise is so intensely uncomfortable that I shifted a bit and thought about taking a tea break or reading a comic book or anything to split the tension. He presses and presses in this hopeful but stalking-persistent way, and they're in this tiny little room in her house ... dude. But it's her own fault for sending him that Valentine in the first place. See what comes of Valentine's Day? It's bad, BAD and leads right up to misfortune, misery and death.

Oh, and Terence Stamp.

So I guess Valentine's Day isn't all bad.

A Movie Nearly Every Night: Murder at the Vanities

Murder at the Vanities (1934)
Dir: Mitchell Leisen
Starring: Carl Brisson, Victor McLaglen, Jack Oakie, Kitty Carlisle and the Earl Carroll Girls

"Get in there and get your clothes off"

Turner Classic Movies has recently released more of the Pre-Code classics from their film library and some of them, like Murder at the Vanities and its disc partner Search for Beauty are in really good condition. The film gets a little scratchy on Vanities, but the sound is just fine. We rented this one first because it features the Earl Carroll dancers. As mentioned in previous posts, my grandmother (my dad's mom, not the grandmother who recently passed away) was a dancer and she started out with Earl Carroll at his Hollywood theater on Sunset Blvd. Carroll's show, The Vanities, was like a naughty version of the Ziegfield Follies (less feathers, more skin) so it was a perfect backdrop for a Pre-Code Hollywood film.

What are they wearing? Well the ones in the glass boxes are wearing the glass boxes

For the sake of explanation, Pre-Code is Pre-Production Code, which is kind of a misnomer since the Code was introduced in 1930. It was full of "Dos, Don'ts and Be Carefuls" and general guidelines to keep those kids in the audience free from vice when they went to the pictures, because any new form of mass media is going to corrupt children. We all know it. Studios policed themselves, which means they agreed to do the Dos (politicians and the police are good) and keep away from the Don'ts (drugs are bad) and seriously consider Be Carefuls (having that drink, lady?) because if they didn't follow the Code some provincial censorship board, like a ladies' church group in Dubuque for instance, would re-edit the film before giving it to the theater. The ladies' church group in Dubuque = not professional filmmakers.

But, honestly, do you care what movie they see in Dubuque as long as sinful New York City, Chicago and Los Angeles allow it to be shown uncut?

So in 1934, the studios agreed to let this guy named Joe Breen take over and he made sure that naughty stuff like 75% of Murder at the Vanities would never make it past the script stage. That would mean losing this hot little number, "Sweet Marijuana":

Sooth me with your caress
Sweet Marijuana, Marijuana
Help me in my distress
Sweet Marijuana, please do
You alone can bring my lover back to me
Even though I know it's all a fantasy
And then, put me to sleep
Sweet Marijuana, Marijuana

Indeed.

Murder at the Vanities dodged the censor bullet and squeaked its bad self through just before the Code gates closed. It certainly shows the limits the studios were pushing to see what they could get away with before Breen shut down the sin.

But, somewhat good news, in all of the half-naked showgirls running through the frame we did not spy my grandmother. She wore some racy outfits in her day, but we didn't see her in any (or out of any) in this movie. It's too bad because I'm always on the lookout for her, but it's also okay because seeing your grandmother wearing nothing but a fake cactus blossom ... well, you tell me how you'd feel.

Obsession

Having a hard time getting around to movie watching lately because I've been trying to finish reading Moby-Dick. (Oddly enough Val was reading the same book on Knots Landing a few nights ago. Fact fiction fiction fact.)

Now, don't get me wrong, it's a good book and I like it -- who knew that's how they got oil from a whale's head? Crazy. But I'm on Chapter 130 and the title character has yet to put in a real appearance. Oh, you hear about him plenty. He tears up boats, eats people's legs, rips a guy's arm off --- but he's like Keyser Soze or Rollo Tomasi. You wait wait wait wait wait and it's turning me into Ahab. Each chapter I'm shouting out "Hast seen the white whale?"


Only 50 pages left. If it turns out that he pulls off his whale mask and it's really Ahab underneath ... well, at this point I wouldn't be at all surprised.

Back to Work

Submitted: Monday, February 01, 2010 04:20:57
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
UserName: havard university
EMail: ...................@havarduniversity.us
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nature: product inquiry
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Message: VENDOR PARTNERSHIP WITH THE OFFICE OF STRATEGIC PROCUREMENT OF HAVARD UNIVERSITY.

Sales Dept,

Havard as a well known institution of learning,we are proud to introduce ourselves to your company,We would like to secure a business relationship with your company and we would want you to join the list of the University vendors(SUPPLIERS) who will always supply and satisfy our basic needs and our relationship will be based on satisfactory and prompt payment method.

We are interested in placing an order for your available brand of product below:

HEWLETT-PACKARD No. 78 C6578AN Inkjet Cartridge, High-Yield, Tri-Color.................300 units

We a discounted price quote for the requested product.

Our payment terms is NET 30 days.

Email us your company's credit application form to begin the (Net 30 term) process.

R**** Wise
Manager of Strategic Procurement
Strategic Procurement
Cambridge, MA 02138
D/L :206-202-XXXX
FAX:206-600-XXXX

---

Dear Mr. "Wise",

Thank you for your interest in our company. Unfortunately we will not be able to quote you this product because you are clearly fraud. However, rather than leave you completely empty-handed, here are some helpful tips to make sure this doesn't happen to you again:

- The well-known institution of learning you refer to is actually "Harvard" not Havard.
- If you're going to claim to be in Cambridge, MA, it might be a good idea to get a Cambridge, MA phone number. Harvard does not have procurement offices in Seattle (although, true, Havard might). The area code is 617 according to the real R**** Wise.
- Start small and work up to the big order. 300 ink cartridges -- what a give-away.
- You might want to consider saying you're from MIT. It's easier to spell right the first time and companies may overlook the grammar mistakes with the idea that MIT people have to get their heads around bigger problems than simple punctuation.

Good luck in your endeavors. Don't contact us again or we'll set the dogs on you.

Sincerely,
L'il Hateful

P.S. Honey, we all want someone who "will always supply and satisfy our basic needs" but you won't find them by email (although a lot of them will take you up on a relationship based on a "prompt payment method").

Family

My grandmother, Ruth Frangione, passed away last week. She had 9 children and about 45 combined grandchildren and great-grandchildren, and we all came out to Torrance to say goodbye. It was sad. It was happy.

My grandmother loved to take pictures, and everyone brought a camera. We took pictures for her.

Jimmy Stephens

Annie, mom (Louise) and Margie: "You can take a picture, but NO bodies!"

the nephew, Rocco. yes, he really is that cute.

Bob Frangione

brothers and sisters: Tony, Bethie, Annie, Bill, Bob, Margie, Mary, Louise, John

In order by age ...

... and "The Finger" picture
Mary, Louise, Bob, Bethie, Bill, Annie, Margie, Tony, John

cousin Mike (being cool)

My dad with his grand-daughter Francesca (being silly)

the principessa

cousins Dan and Mike hanging out with Matt, my wee brother

the grandchildren

Amy Stephens

the children as children -- their kindergarten pictures
(mom hates hers because she looks like Princess Leia)

Rest in heaven, my grandmother

She goes with her rosary and her Kobe Bryant bobbleheads

and I will miss her.

More pictures will post to Flickr (the link is on the right called "Mine").