Below you'll find the movies that, to my mind, best capture the essence of Christmas, year in and year out. These titles seem particularly fitting now, as we see the rampant consumerism of recent years yield to the fundamentals of the holiday - as a special time for family and friends to come together and give thanks. The values and emotions imparted in these timeless films are sure to stoke the spirit of "Peace On Earth, Good Will Towards Men" (and Women).
Holiday Inn (1942) - Don't miss this funny, festive Bing Crosby/Fred Astaire musical about two friends who launch an inn open only on holidays. The film is best known for first introducing "White Christmas", the best-selling single of all time, and an instant favorite with troops then overseas. "Inn" remains consistently tuneful and entertaining, with a sublime Irving Berlin score that covers not just Christmas, but all major holidays. And Astaire and Crosby make a winning team. (For the record, I prefer this Crosby feature to the overbaked, oversaturated "White Christmas", released twelve years later.)
It's A Wonderful Life (1946) - A heartwarming holiday treat, Frank Capra's masterful handling of the bittersweet storyline-in which one George Bailey (James Stewart) sacrifices his own dreams to save the family savings-and-loan business and keep his hometown of Bedford Falls out of the greedy paws of a heartless banker-is pure Hollywood magic. Donna Reed (as Bailey's wife, Mary) and Lionel Barrymore (as the banker) give exceptional performances, but Stewart is the dynamic, all-too-human force holding it all together.
Miracle On 34th Street (1947) - Was there ever a better big-screen Santa than Oscar-winner Edmund Gwenn? This delightful fable about an elderly retiree turned Macy's Santa who sets New York a-twitter with his claim to be the real article gets at the heart of the question: if we humans can no longer believe in things we may not understand, what exactly is the point of Christmas? Look for a cute, young Natalie Wood as a disbelieving young girl Gwenn's Kris Kringle converts.
The Bishop's Wife (1947) - Cary Grant portrays Dudley, the suavest of angels who visits Earth at holiday time to set a certain bishop's priorities straight. Co-starring David Niven as the bishop and a dazzling Loretta Young as the title character, this joyful, witty film still has something to say about keeping the spirit of Christmas alive all year round. And Cary was never better.
Scrooge (1950) - Based on Charles Dickens's most widely read and enduring story, this definitive 1951 British version outdoes all others for atmosphere and characterization. The incomparable Alastair Sim, a gifted actor who seamlessly inhabits the title role, makes you feel there could be no other Scrooge. The film runs just eighty-five minutes, yet delivers the story's full impact, with Sim's droopy eyes projecting all of Scrooge's terror, shame, and regret.
The Apartment (1960) - Peerless Billy Wilder feature about C.C. Baxter (Jack Lemmon), an insurance man climbing the corporate ladder by lending out his bachelor pad for his bosses' assignations. Baxter falls for elevator girl Fran (Shirley MacLaine), but she's still involved in a messy romance going nowhere. Unhappy circumstances draw Fran into Baxter's orbit over the holidays. Will love blossom between these two lost souls? We find out by New Year's, in this poignant tale of loneliness and love.
The Homecoming (1971) - This was the wildly successful TV movie that spawned "The Waltons" TV series. On a Christmas Eve during the Depression, Olivia Walton (Patricia Neal) and her large brood wait anxiously for patriarch John, who's been forced to take a job far from home. With inclement weather making roads impassable, will he make it home for Christmas? The simple, touching "Homecoming" underlines the importance of family love and solidarity over material possessions. Neal is superb.
The House Without A Christmas Tree (1972) - Director Paul Bogart's deceptively unadorned story, adapted from Gail Rock's autobiographical book, involves one transformative Christmas in the 1940's. Precocious Addie (Lisa Lucas) badly wants a Christmas tree, but for James, her widower Dad (Jason Robards), such beauty only brings back his lost wife and past holidays he feels he must forget. He sternly forbids a tree in the house, but underestimates Addie's determination and cunning. See this one for Robards, one of the most powerful actors of his time.
A Christmas Story (1983) - An irresistible, often hilarious 40's-era holiday tale about young Ralphie Parker (Peter Billingsley), growing up in a loving but eccentric family, and his obsession with getting a very special air-gun for Christmas. Initially, his parents (Darren McGavin and Melinda Dillon) supply precious little hope. Will Ralphie's desperate yearning wear them down in the end? Based on a Jean Shepherd short story, the movie benefits from an immense heart, rich period detail and quirky comic characters.
A Child's Christmas In Wales (1987) - Spending Christmas with his daughter's family, a grandfather (Denholm Elliott) reminisces with his enraptured grandson Thomas about his own boyhood holiday memories in Wales. Inspired by a Dylan Thomas poem, Don McBrearty's lyrical, heartwarming "A Child's Christmas" is a simple, one-of-a kind piece originally produced for public television. Some of the language may be lost on the little ones, but the movie exudes so much charm and Yuletide spirit that it really won't matter.
The term "abuse of power" is in the news again. Adding insult to injury, we learn that our nation's most ubiquitous hockey mom, Alaska Governor Sarah Palin, was engaged in some flagrant high-sticking activity while in office, attempting to get her former brother-in-law fired from his job as a state trooper.
Man, when it rains, it pours. Just when Palin's divisive hate-mongering at Republican rallies was driving my own shaky opinion of her to an all-time low, this happens. It appears that behind all the winking and the "I'm just like you" patter, Sarah is just another spiteful, crooked politician.
Of course, beyond the base peccadilloes of our language-, policy-, and now ethics-challenged Sarah, abuse of power is being felt in broader, more fundamental ways by virtually all Americans. Over 85 percent of us feel the country is headed in the wrong direction, and the other 14 percent either live under a rock or have been struck by one.
Surveying the country's current financial mess, regular citizens are experiencing a frustrating sense of impotence. Beyond this, we are hopping mad at the power brokers in Washington and on Wall Street who allowed the crisis to happen, as they were otherwise engaged getting filthy rich at our expense.
Abuse almost invariably occurs wherever there is a concentration of power that can operate unchecked. This is true of both the public and private sectors, and while some speak of the necessary separation of business and politics, it's abundantly clear that the two are not-so-secret bedfellows.
The following ten films portray past examples of abuse of power, broadly defined to encompass the misuse of high position and influence in the political, corporate, and military realms. They each reinforce the central truth that this form of corruption is nothing new, but a recurring societal problem we have never fully come to grips with. It seems we never learn the right lessons or take the right actions to protect the majority of the populace who time and again end up taking the hit for the folly of an elite few.
All The King's Men (1949) - Known for taking on the corrupt state government, charismatic Southern lawyer Willie Stark (Broderick Crawford) is a populist hero in the eyes of voters, who elect him to the governor's post. Once in power, Stark turns out to be as rotten as the rest, despotically ruling the state, cheating on his wife with campaign manager Sadie Burke (Mercedes McCambridge), and disposing of those who challenge his authority. Somehow, Stark retains his robust public appeal, at least until his crooked ways catch up with him. Based on Robert Penn Warren's Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, which fictionalized the life of murdered Louisiana governor Huey Long, Robert Rossen's scathing portrait of corruption remains one of our most compelling films about political demagoguery. At the center of it all is B-movie veteran Broderick Crawford, who gives an all-or-nothing, powerhouse performance, which netted him an Oscar. "Men" also won Best Picture that year, and remains, sadly enough, as timely as ever.
Paths Of Glory (1957) - An aloof, ambitious French general (Adolphe Menjou) sends his men out on a suicide mission during the First World War, and when they ultimately retreat, selects three soldiers at random to face charges of cowardice, for which the sentence is death. Guilt-ridden and seething with injustice, the soldiers' commander (Kirk Douglas) defends his men in the court martial proceedings. Few films expose war's insanity more starkly, contrasting the all-powerful, remote armchair generals with young recruits, mere pawns in an obscene political game, who get slaughtered on the front line of the war to end all wars. We share Douglas' righteous fury at the plight of his men as the rushed sham of a trial progresses. One of Stanley Kubrick's earlier, less self-indulgent gems, this stark, disturbing anti-war film hasn't aged a bit.
Point Of Order (1964) - Emile de Antonio's searing documentary is an expertly edited compilation of 1954's televised Army-McCarthy hearings, which were famous for bringing down the nefarious junior senator from Wisconsin, Joseph McCarthy, after his long, corrosive Communist witch-hunt ruined scores of lives. This invaluable piece of visual history places the fall of McCarthy-ism in lucid, dramatic context. While most of us have seen Boston lawyer (and Army counsel) Joseph Welch's pivotal repudiation of McCarthy ("At long last, Senator... ") few remember what led up to it, which only heightens its history-making impact. It's fascinating to see smarmy McCarthy counsel Roy Cohn go up against Welch and Senator Stuart Symington on charges of currying blatant favoritism for Army enlistee G. David Schine (Cohn's lover). Watching McCarthy himself is spooky, as we have to wonder anew how a man like this could have amassed such destructive power.
All The President's Men (1974) - A true-life detective tale about a pair of intrepid reporters, this film follows Washington Post journalists Bob Woodward (Robert Redford) and Carl Bernstein (Dustin Hoffman) as they uncover a possible connection between the 1972 Watergate burglary and a White House staffer. With the blessing of executive editor Ben Bradlee (Jason Robards) and inside dope from Woodward's ultra-secret source, "Deep Throat" (Hal Holbrook), they "follow the money" all the way to the top. Although you never glimpse anyone playing Nixon, this Oscar-nominated film documents how the power of the press and determination of two young journalists brought down this president, who two years prior had won re-election by the widest margin in history. Faithfully adapted from the Pulitzer Prize-winning book authored by these reporters, the movie is more exciting than fiction, and the starring triumvirate of Redford, Hoffman, and Robards merge seamlessly with their real-life counterparts.
Roger and Me (1989) - Saddened and angered by the closing of an auto plant in his once-thriving hometown of Flint, Michigan, documentarian Michael Moore sets out to interview publicity-shy General Motors chairman Roger Smith about the decision to abandon the town. Along the way, he revisits Flint's glory days, handles rude rebuffs from the corporate office, meets colorful locals, and has a few salty encounters with celebs like Anita Bryant, Pat Boone, and Bob Eubanks. With his hilarious first feature, America's most celebrated wise-guy pundit created the basic template for his iconoclastic mix of populist humor and confrontational filmmaking. Armed only with a microphone and his folksy, working-class wit, the portly filmmaker relentlessly pursues Smith, highlighting the gulf between GM's carefully groomed public image as an all-American company dedicated to hometown values, and the cut-throat reality of their business practices. Moore’s revealing chats with clueless GM boosters like Bryant and the surprisingly foul-mouthed Eubanks are alone worth the price of admission.
The Insider (1999) - Based on a well-publicized true story, Dr. Jeffrey Wigand (Russell Crowe), an embittered tobacco company employee, decides to blow the whistle on mammoth employer Brown & Williamson's deceptive practices. He enlists the help of Lowell Bergman, senior producer on 60 Minutes (Al Pacino), to get the story out. The process quickly becomes dangerous, however, and both men's lives are nearly destroyed. Carrying the imprimatur of reality - and courtesy of Michael Mann's tense, semi-documentary shooting style - the shocking events of the Big Tobacco scandal get brought into close proximity, holding you breathless. "The Insider" represents a cautionary tale wrapped up in a top-notch thriller. Watching the byplay between Pacino and Crowe, viewers get to witness two consummate actors at the top of their respective games. Crowe is particularly impressive playing against type.
Downfall (2004) - This intense yet intimate feature chronicles the last days of World War II in a shattered and encircled Berlin, from the vantage point of the ever-tightening circle around a broken down, delusional Adolf Hitler (Bruno Ganz). Seen mainly through the eyes of his young secretary Traudl Junge (Alexandra Maria Lara), the film faithfully recreates events leading to Germany's unconditional surrender, while painting a vivid character study of Hitler and his small but faithful retinue. A palpable sense of dread and claustrophobia builds throughout the film, as the day of reckoning approaches when the once proud Fuhrer must admit to the utter failure of his twisted vision. Intense and intimate, with the crazy, nightmarish feel of a Bosch painting, "Downfall" is an astounding film experience for those with the stomach for it. Ganz renders Hitler so expertly that the effect is spooky, as if the dead had been brought back to life. Other searing performances come from Juliane Kohler as a curiously cheery, detached Eva Braun; also both Ulrich Matthes and Corinna Harfouch make your blood run cold playing the ever loyal Josef and Magda Goebbels. Finally, the delicate, wide-eyed Lara beguiles as Traudl, a mostly innocent lamb placed by fate right in the center of the wolf's lair. This was nominated for 2004's Best Foreign Film Oscar, and with good reason.
Enron: The Smartest Guys In The Room (2005) - Alex Gibney's award-winning film profiles the astounding tale of corporate larceny and greed known as the Enron scandal. One of the most outrageous, outsize examples of big business hubris on record, the film focuses on the three players who loomed largest in the debacle: Chairman Kenneth Lay, CEO Jeffrey Skilling, and CFO Andrew Fastow. Needless to say, none of the three comes out smelling like a rose. This riveting documentary reviews in minute detail one company's spectacular rise and fall, delving into the labyrinthine schemes and self-deceptions that helped line the pockets of Enron's top management, while hoodwinking Wall Street with impressive short-term results essentially built on an elaborate Ponzi scheme. When this accounting house of cards fell, so did a lot of innocent (and not-so-innocent) employees, along with a company that only recently had been the darling of investors. A jaw-dropping tale, all the more scary and fascinating because it's true.
The Last King Of Scotland (2006) - In the early 1970s, looking for adventure after medical school, young Scottish physician Nicholas Garrigan (James McAvoy) travels to Uganda to join a rural medical team. During a roadside crisis involving General Idi Amin (Forest Whitaker), Garrigan impresses the new president with a brazen act and is hand-picked to become Amin’s personal physician and adviser. Slowly, Garrigan comes to understand that Amin, though charismatic, is a savage and genocidal dictator responsible for butchering everyone who opposes his will. The next question is: how to get out from under? Anchored by Whitaker's fearsome, Oscar-winning performance as the charming yet volatile tyrant, Kevin MacDonald's searing adaptation of Giles Foden's novel contrasts Garrigan's freewheeling youthfulness with the harsh realities of Amin's beleaguered Uganda. McAvoy's doctor is cheeky and reckless, bedding Amin's wife when he feels trapped, but Nicholas is also ill-served by his own political naivete. Great support from Simon McBurney and Gillian Anderson lend further complexity to this stylishly directed and phenomenally well-acted dramatic thriller, based on a true story.
No End In Sight (2007) - What went wrong in Iraq? Why did the country devolve into a deadly, seemingly endless civil war after the U.S. invasion toppled Saddam Hussein in March 2003? Interviewing numerous key figures in the postwar planning and interim coalition government, this sobering doc exposes the shocking ineptitude and bungling of Bush administration appointees that led to the collapse of security in Iraq-and fanned the flames of sectarian hostilities. Filmmaker Charles Ferguson, a former Brookings Institution fellow, takes a hard look not just at the administration's reasons for going to war, but what we did - and didn't - do in the aftermath. As he interviews State Department honchos like Richard Armitage, senior military commanders, foreign ambassadors, and veteran journalists, what becomes frighteningly apparent is the obvious lack of any postwar strategy at all, and the systematic undermining of advice from military and governing officials on the ground in Iraq. Clear, concise, and free of polemics, "No End in Sight" is a gripping look at an appalling - and costly - lack of leadership.
"Dying is easy-comedy, that's hard". No truer words were ever spoken, certainly as regards comedy. That's why I'm so excited about three new on DVD releases of three classic screwball entries from Hollywood's Golden Age: "Easy Living" (1937), written by soon-to-be director Preston Sturges and starring the irresistible, husky-voiced Jean Arthur; "Midnight"(1939), starring Claudette Colbert and Don Ameche, and written by soon-to-be director Billy Wilder (and partner Charles Brackett); and finally, "The Major and the Minor" (1942), starring the fabulous Ginger Rogers and Ray Milland. "Major" was actually Wilder's first shot behind the camera in Hollywood, and he never looked back from this first solid success.
To celebrate Nicole Kidman's birthday this June, I highlight three of my favorite Kidman movies which display her range as an actress. First, To Die For (1995), a thriller directed by Gus Van Sant starring Kidman and Matt Dillon, where Nicole portrays an ambitious-and deadly- news reporter. Second, The Others (2001), a gothic horror film that stars Kidman as a mother with two photo-sensitive children trapped in a house she believes is haunted. And third, The Hours, a story of how Virginia Woolf's novel "Mrs. Dalloway" affects the lives of three women, each living in different time periods. Kidman, playing Woolf herself, is outstanding, and won an Oscar.
The passing of two consummate film directors in quick succession-- Ingmar Bergman and Michelangelo Antonioni- merits contemplation as well as tribute...both these men knew how to make nuanced, enigmatic art films where the audience had to actively engage to discern the significance of the piece. I pray that their mutual gifts never become a lost art.
To see what I mean, check out this trio of Antonioni classics, all available on DVD.
L’ Avventura (1960)- A chic circle of friends decide to go yachting one day, and alight on a remote island off the coast of Sicily, where one of the group, a young woman named Anna, disappears after arguing with lover Sandro. Sandro then starts a prolonged search for her, along with Claudia (the gorgeous and talented Monica Vitti), Anna’s best friend. Soon, Sandro and Claudia become irresistibly drawn to each other. But is it really love they’re feeling? Antonioni was in his mid-forties when he achieved international recognition with this exceptional film, portraying the moral and spiritual emptiness all too often found among the idle rich. In this world, as isolated in a human sense as its craggy seaside setting, the emotion called love may in fact be something baser: simply one human being’s raw need to connect with another. Antonioni’s stark, haunting film is a masterful portrait of modern alienation and aimlessness, a demanding but profound film experience.
L’Eclisse (1962)- Dissatisfied with her effete fiancé, Riccardo, young Vittoria (Vitti again) breaks off their engagement without articulating exactly what has caused her sudden change of heart. Before long, she’s pursued by an acquaintance of her mother’s, cocky Roman stockbroker Piero (Alain Delon, in his youthful prime). Vittoria resists his advances at first, then embarks on a giddy, passionate love affair that’s clouded by her mysterious ambivalence. This meticulously composed, at times breathtakingly abstract drama provides another variation on the Italian maestro’s central preoccupation in the early ’60s: the tenuousness of human connection. Vitti, his oft-appearing muse, never looked more radiant or alluring, a quality that makes her recoiling from physical affection even more puzzling and alienating. Delon, perhaps the handsomest French film icon of all time, is winning as Piero, a confident young buck who knows how to make money at the exchange but fails to fully possess Vittoria. Beautifully stylized and ambiguous, “L’Eclisse” casts a chilly eye on the nature of love and attachment.
Blow-Up (1966)- Walking through a London park one afternoon, wealthy, jaded fashion photographer Thomas (David Hemmings) snaps some photos of a couple embracing in the distance. Noticing the intrusion, Jane (Vanessa Redgrave)—one of the subjects—chases after him, demanding the negatives. So Thomas slyly hands over an empty roll. Later, after developing the film, he discovers he may have unwittingly photographed a murder in progress. Antonioni’s existential mystery scandalized some in the 1960s with its cool, casually erotic atmosphere of sex and drugs, but still made a sizeable dent at the box office. In addition to the film’s central puzzle—was there a homicide or not?—Hemmings himself is a kind of cipher, playing a detached, unsmiling artist bored with his decadent life. With its mod flavorings and occasional surrealist touches—like a pantomime tennis game—“Blow-Up” is an intriguing, unconventional thriller that makes you question the nature of reality and illusion.
Like so many admirers around the world, I was saddened by the recent death of the gifted, complex Swedish director Ingmar Bergman, but take solace both in the length and quality of his years, and in the rich legacy of Bergman films which live on. Some of his best follow--and yes, I will watch "Cries and Whispers" to see if that deserves a place among these other gems...
ACCESSING INGMAR BERGMAN
Ingmar Bergman’s welcome return to the big screen (at 86) with “Saraband” (2003), a sequel to 1973’s “Scenes From A Marriage”, prompted me to revisit the director’s impressive legacy. Here I’ve sought to isolate the strongest, most accessible titles to draw you hesitant viewers in to Bergman’s intense cinematic world.
Here’s one idea: consider seeing the best of Bergman in reverse chronological order. Though all his films are visually striking, in the beginning the color ones will be easier to watch. And besides, “Fanny and Alexander” (1982) constitutes a glorious starting point for most any exploration. This sumptuous film set in early twentieth century Sweden concerns the Ekdahls, an exuberant clan whose happy life is seen through the eyes of young son Alexander (Bertil Guve). But when patriarch Oskar dies, mother Emilie (Ewa Frolling) rashly decides to remarry the cold Bishop Vergerus (Jan Malmsjo), and the Ekdahls’s existence (including Emilie, Alexander and younger sister Fanny) is transformed from one of warm colors to a stern, inflexible gray. We then witness how the trio’s dramatic turn in fortunes accelerates the maturing of Alexander. This crowning work of Bergman’s was originally a TV mini-series, cut to three hours for theatrical release. The time will fly.
Seven years prior, Bergman had adapted Mozart’s famous opera, “The Magic Flute”. The film captures a modern-day production at a Stockholm theatre, inter-cutting the performance with audience reactions and back-stage shots. While some purists gripe that this conceit (along with Swedish lyrics) adulterates Mozart’s favorite work, it should go over nicely with non-opera types, as it adds texture to the film. The spirited cast brings an old story alive: The Queen of the Night charges handsome Tamino with recovering her daughter, Princess Pamina, from malevolent wizard Sarastro. Our hero soon learns he has it backwards: actually, the noble Sarastro is protecting the princess from the Queen, who is, in fact, the evil one. Tamino and Pamina’s exalted spiritual romance is contrasted with the earthy comic cavortings of Papageno and Papagena, two simple peasants who embody the more basic aspects of male-female love. “Flute” is charming, intelligent family entertainment, crafted by two masters who serve each other well.
Like “Fanny”, the haunting “Scenes From A Marriage” (1973) started as a TV series, and was then cut to feature length. “Scenes” examines the abrupt dissolution of what first seems a stable union between Marianne (Liv Ullmann) and Johan ( Erland Josefson), then tracks their ensuing contacts with the passing years. This unsettling, profound chronicle of love, selfishness, and missed connections rings consistently true. For me, the intrigue lay less in its initial portrayal of a stagnating union, more in the couple’s tentative, nuanced interactions after the marriage is over. Rich and complex, with Ullmann and Josephson outstanding in the leads, this is another Ingmar peak.
In 1969’s “The Passion Of Anna”, Bergman addresses the recurring theme of human isolation. Max Von Sydow is Andreas, a man whose failures have made him retreat from life to a remote island. There by chance he encounters Anna (Ullmann), a widow with an even more tragic past. Soon Andreas is meeting her closest friends Eva and Elis Vergerus ( Bibi Andersson and Erland Josefson). Eva is a vulnerable woman in search of identity, Elis a successful architect whose cynical, assured veneer is a barrier to intimacy. Anna deals with her own plight by righteously proclaiming the value of “honesty” in relationships, yet deceives herself about her own unsuccessful marriage. Soon, Andreas remembers why he’d craved solitude in the first place. In this multi-layered character study, Bergman includes sequences where the actors comment on the roles they’re playing- a fascinating touch. Beautifully photographed by the immortal Sven Nykvist, “Anna” is a stunning accomplishment.
Now we enter the black and white realm with “Persona” (1966), one of the director’s more surreal, experimental works. Actress Elizabeth Vogler (Ullmann) is struck dumb in the middle of a performance, and her continued silence signals a serious mental break. She goes with private nurse Alma (Andersson) to her doctor’s seaside cottage to rest and recuperate. Gradually, Elizabeth’s verbal paralysis compels Alma to open up to her patient about her personal life experiences. And the more Alma delves, the more vulnerable she becomes. As fantasy merges with reality, one woman’s persona seems to meld with the other, and ultimately it’s hard to tell who’s the patient and who’s the caregiver. A spooky, mind-bending film that casts a unique spell.
Surveying Bergman’s earlier films, “Wild Strawberries” (1957) stands out as an understated gem. Nearing the end of his days, Professor Isak Borg (Victor Sjostrom) goes on a long car trip to accept an honorary degree. Joining him is his daughter-in-law Sara (Andersson), with whom he’s never clicked. During the trip, familiar sights cause the professor to flash back to events that shaped the course of his life, and this causes an epiphany, helping him come to terms with his past and face his short but precious future with renewed hope and spirit. He even achieves a breakthrough with Sara. “Strawberries” is an unusually warm and human entry from the director.
We close with a rarity: a Bergman comedy. 1955’s “Smiles Of A Summer Night” is pure magic, a joyous, perceptive meditation on the fickle nature of love and the battle of the sexes. Distinguished lawyer Fredrik Egerman (Gunnar Bjornstrand) brings innocent young wife Anne (Ulla Jacobson) to a play starring his saucy former mistress, Desiree (Eva Dahlbeck). Reconnected with her old lover, Desiree decides to shake things up, inviting the Egermans, her own current paramour (of whom she has tired), and his wife for a weekend house party. A dizzying game of romantic musical chairs ensues, with most everyone ending up in a more suitable position. “Smiles” would go on to inspire both Stephen Sondheim’s “A Little Night Music” and Woody Allen’s “A Midsummer Night’s Sex Comedy”. Don’t miss this sly comic treat.
I just finished reading your part two about Robert Altman.
I'm "nobody." My son, Jarrett Lennon (Kaufman) was in Short Cuts (Chad Weathers) and, because he was a minor, I of course "HAD" to be by his side for the entire work-time. I cannot begin to tell you what a delightful, soul-satisfying time both Jarrett and I had with Bob, as well as the rest of the crew and cast. Bob was the dearest man, and he gave me as much attention as anyone else, and we talked politics, art, and a great deal about my parents (both labor union organizers, Commies, friends of Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo, the whole history that goes with all that). Day after day, week after week, it was an absolute joy to be around that dear man.
What Jarrett and I both, to this day, appreciate most about Bob (besides his extraordinary artistic talent) is that everyone was equally important on the set. He knew that; we knew that. It was good to be around someone who recognized how very much every single being counts on one of his shoots.
The friendship between my then-little boy (who turned 25 today, the 1st of February) and Bob lasted through phone calls.
Bob's death knocked me out. I'm still reeling from it, amazingly enough.
I am glad you got to meet Bob and feel just a bit of his wonderful self.
Upstairs is Daphne. She is a very old little lizard, now, but in 1992, she also had a small part in Short Cuts. As Peter Gallagher's about to stomp down the side of his former house, we see what appears to be a scary monster. The camera quickly pulls back, revealing it's a tiny lizard in the hands of Jarrett, as seen through Frances McDormand's kitchen window [and yet another through-the-window shot, eh?). Sweet Daphne is a daily reminder of Bob, because Bob gave Jarrett her, but that's a whole other super wonderful little story on just how personal Bob always was.
I have a huge lump in my throat right now.
Thank you for your good words about Robert Altman.
