A sincere birthday shout out to the magnificent actor James Caan who celebrates 80 years on the planet today. He had the usual start in TV series before making an impact on the big screen terrorising Olivia de Havilland in Lady in a Cage and thereafter he had an amazing ten years, scoring his first lead with Howard Hawks in Red Line 7000 (again with Hawks on El Dorado) and led Countdown, Rabbit, Run and The Rain People; he gave a masterclass in the classic TV movie Brian’s Song. In a strange way his brilliance as Sonny in The Godfather threatened to overshadow him, as though he were born anew, all strutting machismo and bravado and little else, and it is true that I for one cannot go through a toll booth without looking out for lousy hit men following his wretched death in that legendary performance. He was all heart, if foolhardy, as the sexy Corleone. But he has a sweetness and a complexity beautifully exploited in Gambler, Comes a Horseman and Thief, in which he gives perhaps his greatest performance; comedy chops in Silent Movie and Harry and Walter Go To New York; he does romance well for Claude Lelouch in Another Man, Another Chance and Bolero. In the Eighties he made his debut as director in the moving drama Hide in Plain Sight; he was highly emotive as the ageing, saddened Vietnam sergeant in Coppola’s Gardens of Stone. In the Nineties he’s good fun as Spaldoni in Warren Beatty’s Dick Tracy; astonishing as the truly unfortunate author in Misery; he seemed perfectly at home backstage in For the Boys, just as he had done as Billy Rose in Funny Lady; and he gives great Philip Marlowe in that marvellous TV movie from Bob Rafelson, Poodle Springs. He slips between big and small screens including co-starring with son Scott, and he did five seasons on the series Las Vegas, which was appointment viewing in the Noughties. He has worked with everyone who’s anyone. He can do crime and action – villains seem to be easy for him; yet he can do emotion to wrenching affect; he can do funny (watch Elf again!); he can do show. He has a bearing that is always striking (look at how he moves) and despite an immediately identifiable voice he can inhabit a huge range of characters but retains an essence of total enigma. Named Italian of the Year for playing Sonny Corleone although he is German Jewish, he tried to refuse the award, but, well, you know how that might have gone. He wisely accepted. What a mensch. Happy birthday James Caan. We adore you and want to watch you forever!
In honour of the great British composer John Addison’s centenary here’s one of his most exciting and atmospheric scores, Brandy for the Parson (1952).
Objection, your honour. The defence has just fondled one of the jurors. Divorced New York City assistant District Attorney Tom Logan (Robert Redford) is busy alternately fighting and flirting with his defence lawyer adversary Laura Kelly (Deborah Winger) and her unpredictable artist client Chelsea Deardon (Daryl Hannah) who is on trial for a murder she did not commit and wraps Tom around her little finger as the case against her builds … I’m not going to lose him. Where is he? Truly a star vehicle from writer/director Ivan Reitman with Redford in his once-a-decade comedy but armed with a really good supporting cast too including Brian Dennehy, Terence Stamp, Christine Baranski and Davids Clennon and Hart. Styled as a Tracy-Hepburn battle of the sexes comedy it lacks the quickfire dialogue you’d expect and Winger plays her role kind of soft but Redford is really charming. The leads are slightly overwhelmed by Hannah, cast on point as the kooky performance artist in a story which recalls the scandal that descended upon the estate of Mark Rothko. The screenplay is by Jim Cash & Jack Epps Jr., that powerhouse screenwriting partnership, from a story by Reitman and the screenwriters. It’s a bit overloaded for such lightweight fun but it does have a lovely sense of NYC and if you look quickly you’ll see a bottle of Newman’s Own salad dressing on Winger’s dining table. Do you always cross-examine people?/Only when they lie to me
Today marks the centenary of the birth of a king among film directors, Fellini, a cartoonist who was a master of farce and satire and became a vector for his country’s melancholy and possibility, chronicling its post-war rebirth and baptising it in the Trevi Fountain in Rome, the city he conjured at Cinecittà, as he constantly mused the problems of the sexes.
He was always known as The Vagrant. The horrific death of actor Paul Walker in a car crash in November 2013 shocked the world. How could this action movie star renowned for his own very careful piloting of vehicles have occurred? A friend was driving the Porsche Carrera and both were burned alive in a car park after crashing into a tree. A really good driver. Conscientious at all times. He was in the middle of filming Fast and Furious 7 at the time. This painful documentary departs from that story until the final sequence and is concerned with interviewing many people in Walker’s life, starting with his tightknit working class Mormon family, drawing on his background in Tujunga, California, and the fierce loyalty to his many friends whom he employed to keep himself sane in the wake of success. A picture emerges of a surfer dude whose mom had taken him to auditions as a young child and who impressed people like Michael Landon with his abilities. He didn’t want to continue acting as an adult and indulged his pleasures for a time. That guy made the best of every single moment. He grew up tall – six three – and liked a gnarly fun lifestyle and his surprise casting in Pleasantville led to an introduction to filmmaker Rob Cohen whose first film with him was not entirely a success but would lead to The Fast and the Furious franchise that made Walker a movie star. Uncomfortable with publicity, he had to deal with an unplanned pregnancy and worked hard to support his girlfriend’s desire to escape to Hawaii with their baby daughter Meadow in order to further her education. His fascination with marine conservation was all-consuming and his happiest times were spent tagging whales yet he had a certain legacy to deal with that informed his approach to life – his maternal grandfather was a WW2 veteran who set a landspeed record using a road car at Bonneville in the Fifties; his paternal grandfather Paul Walker II was a famous boxer; and his own father (Paul Walker III) was a tough guy who served as a marine in Vietnam and was a crack shot. The picture of masculinity that emerges is powerful and deep-rooted. He liked to do exciting things. He wanted to stop making films but he felt overwhelming financial responsibility to his family members and those friends of his who were part of his entourage on each Fast production: kindness superseded his desire to escape to his off-grid home. Everyone would come to him with their problems, as one of the guys observes. Nobody has a bad word about this astonishingly handsome, nice, thoughtful action man who suffered such a brutal ending. Touching? That barely covers it. Directed by Adrian Buitenhuis using a huge variety of home movies, archive, newsreel and personal interviews but the horror of Walker’s senseless death overshadows the film in a way these words and pictures cannot overcome. Success to me is balance in life
She can’t allow herself to feel. The second wife of professor Ken (Ian Holm) with whom she had an adulterous affair while his wife Kathy (Betty Buckley) was suffering from ovarian cancer, when fiftysomething philosophy professor Marion Post (Gena Rowlands) rents an apartment to work on a new book, she soon realises that she can hear what’s going on in a neighbouring apartment, which houses a psychiatrist’s office. She becomes captivated by the sessions of a pregnant patient named Hope (Mia Farrow) whom she follows and eventually encounters in an antiques store. As Hope talks about her emotional issues over a long lunch, not only does Marion begin to reevaluate her life and recall the bullying her estranged brother Paul (Harris Yulin) was subjected to by their late father (David Ogden Stiers), she sees her husband lunching with their mutual friend Lydia (Blythe Danner) with whom he is clearly having an intimate relationship. She comes to realise that her coldness has shut her off from friends and family, and she has missed a chance for true love with writer Larry Lewis (Gene Hackman) who apparently made her the subject of his novel after she turned him down for Ken …If someone had asked me when I reached my fifties to assess my life, I would have said that I had achieved a decent measure of fulfillment, both personally and professionally. Beyond that, I would say I don’t choose to delve. A remarkably perceptive work from Woody Allen on mid-life femininity and the things women have to do to protect themselves and their sense of self while also making men feel good about themselves. Fully belonging to that part of his oeuvre labelled Bergmanesque and not just because it’s shot by Sven Nykvist, this is sharp, funny, acidly realistic and gimlet-eyed when it comes to the inequality between the sexes: while a husband plays at adultery (repeatedly), a woman tries to justify her very existence; a man celebrates his fifty years while a woman wonders what she has done with her life; an ex-wife shows up at the house with the detritus of their marriage to find herself socially condemned because she expresses her distress at betrayal. How Rowlands learns about her foibles through other people’s observations is psychologically devastating. The narrative is fearless and pointed in its target – structural misogyny. The peerless Rowlands is great in one of the best women’s roles of the Eighties and Farrow is no less good in a minor key, providing an oppositional image of possibility, with an ensemble of men having it all. I just don’t want to look up when I’m her age and find my life is empty