Paris When It Sizzles (1964)

Paris When It Sizzles.jpeg

Every day when I get up and I see there’s a whole new other day I go absolutely ape! Richard Benson (William Holden) is holed up in a swish Paris apartment with a great view and he has two days left of his 20-week contract to fulfill a screenwriting assignment commissioned on the basis of the title by a monied producer.  He’s spent all that time travelling around Europe, having an affair with a Greek actress and drinking. Now he’s hired a typist called Gabrielle Simpson (Audrey Hepburn) who’s really a wannabe writer who spent the first six months of her two-year stint in the city living a very louche life. He dictates various opening scenes of The Girl Who Stole the Eiffel Tower and eventually constructs a version which takes off with Gabrielle standing in for the lead actress in a story which mutates into a spy thriller. Her actor boyfriend in the story (Tony Curtis) dumps her (in reality she has a date to keep in two days – Bastille Day) and she gets embroiled with Benson himself as the presumed villain. When Gabrielle takes over the storytelling she turns him into a vampire because of a childhood obsession with Dracula. He rewrites it like the hack he really is and gives it a Hollywood ending – straight out of Casablanca. Real life meshes with reel life and Noel Coward – playing his producer Alexander Myerheim – materialises at a party in the film within a film. Marlene Dietrich has a cameo and Curtis has great fun in his supporting role as a narcissistic Method actor. This postmodern remake of the French film Holiday for Henrietta by Julien Duvivier and Henri Jeanson got a rewrite by George Axelrod and it’s brimming with Hollywood references and a surplus of nods to the films of both stars:  talk about meta! It was put into production by Paramount who exercised their contractual rights over Holden and Hepburn, reunited after Sabrina a decade earlier. They had had a much-fabled affair then and Hepburn allegedly turned down Holden’s offer of marriage due to his vasectomy as she was obsessed with having a child. She was by now married to actor and director Mel Ferrer and Holden turned up to the set in a very bad way, still not over her. His drinking was out of control and he had numerous accidents befall him which ended up scuppering the final scene. It was directed by Richard Quine, who had previously made The World of Suzie Wong with him and that gets a shout out too. Hepburn’s husband Ferrer has a cameo here as a partygoer and Sinatra does some singing duties when Benson announces the titles of the film within a film. There are far more laughs here than the contemporary reviews would give it credit, with some shrewd screenplay analysis and Benson even talks at regular intervals about his planned book The Art of Screenplay Writing which sounds like a useful handbook. Hepburn was outfitted as ever by Hubert de Givenchy who betrays her terrifyingly anorectic frame and he also gets a credit for her perfume despite this not being released in Smell-O-Rama. Hepburn had legendary Claude Renoir (the same) fired as director of photography because she felt he wasn’t flattering her and had him replaced with Charles Lang, who accompanied her to her next film, Charade, which shares a location with this – the Punch and Judy show at the front of the Theatre de Marigny. There’s a sinuous score by Nelson Riddle.

Advertisements

The Big Lebowski (1998)

The Big Lebowski theatrical.jpg

Nobody fucks with the Jesus. The Dude abides. Where to start with one of the most cherished films there has ever been? Not in the beginning. I may have almost had a coronary from laughing the first time I saw this at a festival screening prior to its release, but a lot of critics just did not get it. It’s the Coen Brothers in excelsis, a broad Chandler adaptation and tribute to Los Angeles,  a hymn to male friendship and the Tao of easy living with some extraordinarily surreal fantasy and dream sequences – not to mention some deadly bowling. Jeff Bridges is Jeffrey ‘Dude’ Lebowski, a guy so laid back he’s horizontal but he gets a little antsy when some thieves mistake him for The Big Lebowski and piss on his rug (it really tied the room together). Best friend Walter Sobchak (John Goodman) is his bowling buddy, an uptight Nam vet with adoptive-Jewish issues in this hilarious offside take on director John Milius. Steve Buscemi is their sweet-natured friend Donny and John Turturro is the unforgettable sports foe, a hispanic gangsta paedo in a hairnet, Jesus Quintana. After the rug issue is handled, Dude is hired by his namesake (David Huddleston) a wheelchair-bound multimillionaire philanthropist, to exchange a ransom when his young trophy wife Bunny (Tara Reid) is kidnapped. Naturally Dude screws it up. There’s a band of nihilists led by Peter Stormare, some porn producers (Bunny makes flesh flicks), Lebowski’s randy artist daughter (Julianne Moore) and a private eye following everyone. And there’s Sam Elliott, narrating this tale of tumbleweed and laziness.  Everyone has their signature song in one of the great movie soundtracks and Dude has not only Creedence but White Russians to really mellow his day. Just like The Big Sleep, the plot really doesn’t matter a fig. This is inspired lunacy and I love it SO much.

Cafe Society (2016)

Cafe_Society.jpg

Bobby Dorfman (Jesse Eisenberg) arrives in Hollywood straight outta the Bronx  c.1935 to work with his movie agent uncle Phil (Steve Carell) and falls for his assistant Vonnie (Kristen Stewart). Everything looks beautiful, bathed in magic moment sunshine and swoony evening light and people talk about Irene Dunne and Willie Wyler but it turns out Vonnie is Phil’s mistress and he leaves his wife to marry her leaving Bobby brokenhearted and back in his beloved Bronx working front of house for his gangster brother Ben (Corey Stoll) in a glamorous nightclub. He marries divorcee Veronica (Blake Lively) whom he promptly rechristens Vonnie. She has a baby and her time is taken up caring for her. Then Phil and Vonnie visit while passing through NYC and a romance of sorts recommences but as Bobby realises, Vonnie (this Vonnie) is now his aunt … This is a film of two halves, which do not mesh.  The leads are in their third film together but Stewart is much too modern to play her role, Eisenberg is quite weird – that hunched-shouldered look doth not a schlub make – and the good performances are in supporting roles:  Jeannie Berlin and particularly Ken Stott as the Dorfman parents, Stoll, who is literally criminally underused and Stephen Kunken as the brother in law who inadvertently causes Bobby’s sister Evelyn to have Ben murder their neighbour. Despite the episodes of violence, the talk about what is reality and what is cinema, and the central idea about marriage and what people do to keep relationships going despite clear incompatibility – and there’s a strange (self-?) reference to a man with a teenaged mistress… – this just doesn’t work. The faraway looks in the leads’ eyes at the unsatisfying and inconclusive climax, a country apart, merely highlight the vacuum at the story’s centre. Minor Allen to be sure. It looks great though, so thank you Vittorio Storaro.

Big Business (1988)

Big Business 1988.jpg

Is this how you dress for the office? You look like a blood clot! Bette Midler and Lily Tomlin in a reworking of The Comedy of Errors? (With maybe a touch of The Prince and the Pauper… and Aesop).  NYC 1988?  The Plaza? Hell yeah! They’re the two mismatched pairs of identical twin sisters separated at birth in a country hospital in the 1940s and now … the bumpkins are coming to the big city to deal with the proposed takeover of their family firm in Jupiter Hollow which is being handled by … their posh twins whose socialite folks were just passing through forty years earlier! And neither set knows the other set exists! And they have the same names – Rose and Sadie – because the poor farmer overheard the rich guy naming his daughters! Bette is the obnoxiously bitchy divorced CEO with a kid she pays to do better at school, Lily is the timid flibbertigibbet sister who can eat anything and is sympathetic to the factory at Jupiter Hollow because their father wanted it in the family to honour their birthplace; and Bette is also the louder bumpkin with the skinny sweet sister who runs their company. When they get the posh women’s suite at the Plaza all sorts of screwball mixups ensue which should be a little funnier – costume and accents are not as riotous as they might be but when push comes to shove country Sadie’s wannabe beau (Fred Ward) turns up and the company’s execs think he’s a conman – who doesn’t get it when they invite him to sleep on their couch (they’re a gay couple).  The finale – the meeting with the stockholders – is run like a scene from Dynasty because country Rose has studied Alexis Carrington like a book. The writing (by Dori Pierson and Marc Reid Rubel) lets this brilliant premise deflate – not to get too Aristotelian about it there are  no real scenes of ‘recognition’ other than the failsafe one in the Ladies’ bathroom and the original baby switch which leads to the concluding life swap is never dealt with satisfactorily in terms of even reference to it – this convoluted plot never really stands scrutiny. But it’s a breezy show even if these fabulous women never really get their considerable comic chops into it. Wonder what would have happened if Barbra Streisand and Goldie Hawn had starred, as was intended?! Heck, the clothes are just great. Directed by Jim Abrahams.

Music and Lyrics (2007)

Music and Lyrics movie.jpg

My face is in the butter! Alex Fletcher (Hugh Grant) is the washed up Eighties pop star who’s reduced to playing Knott’s Berry Farm but thankfully he hasn’t had to take part in TV’s Battle of the 80s Has-Beens (“that Debbie Gibson can take a punch,” he remarks). Not yet.  A saviour comes calling – Britney-a-like dance queen chart diva Cora Corman (Haley Bennett), with her Buddha-in-a-thong philosophy, needs a song and his manager (Brad Garrett) pitches him the project. He can’t get the words right for Way Back Into Love with a pro writer but the girl who waters the plants in his apartment just comes up with rhymes that scan off the top of her head. Sophie Fisher (Drew Barrymore) happens to be a creative writing grad from the New School, traumatized by her relationship with affianced tutor Sloan Cates (Campbell Scott) who has immortalised her in a famous book.  Her older sister, weight loss guru Rhonda (Kristen Johnson) is Alex’ biggest fan and is thrilled when they work together. But they’re on deadline and when Cates turns up in a restaurant Sophie is tongue-tied and Alex fights for her reputation in an amusing scuffle. Alex and Sophie wind up in bed together and she goes to one of his daytime concerts. At a pre-recording session they find that Cora has turned their moving music into a sexy Indian rap and Sophie wants out. They fight and he accuses her of being Cates’ ‘Sally Michaels’ ie a passive aggressive control freak.  But the song still lacks that final verse demanded by Cora and Alex is desperate for a return to credibility  … This is a very funny, droll take on the best period in pop ever!!! Grant is excellent in the second of his four teamings with writer/director Marc Lawrence, who is also responsible for some of the songs and Barrymore is a terrific, nervy comic foil.  It all comes good in the end at Madison Square Garden where true feelings are expressed musically. Wait for the credits sequence with Grant as his former PoP! idol self, with perfect mullet in a Wham!/Duran crossover band. Good, heartwarming fun.

Maggie’s Plan (2015)

Maggie's Plan movie poster

Admittedly I am no fan of Greta Gerwig whose kooky shtick has been replayed ad nauseam since she graduated from nudie mumblecore. She’s a college administrator who wants a child without marriage and goes after Guy (Travis Fimmel) a mathematically inclined pickle man (Joan Micklin Silver territory …) for a donation.  At the crucial moment of sperm insertion she is interrupted by the ‘bad boy of ficto-critical anthropology’ and wannabe novelist John (no Wesley) Harding (Ethan Hawke) who professes his love for her and leaves his speech-impeded Danish lecturer wife (Julianne Moore) and their children. A couple of years later in the chaotic tedium of their marriage, plus one (toddler Lily) Maggie tries to reunite the narcissistic pair so she can bring up her daughter in peace. Then John finds out what the women are planning. This is supposedly a subversive screwball comedy replete with the Nora Ephron-type friends who serve as confessors (Bill Hader, Maya Rudolph). Because the ‘meet cute’ happens over missed paycheques?!  Rebecca Miller’s film looks terrible and if you need to know how awful family planning and marriage can be …  but a lot of critics liked it. It’s badly staged, awkwardly written and adorned with performances that belong in a better production.What gives?! This epitomises the term ‘meh.’ From a story by Karen Rinaldi.

Ball of Fire (1941)

Ball of Fire_movie_poster.jpg

Superb screwball comedy, based on a Billy Wilder story he co-wrote with Thomas Monroe subverting Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Adapted by Wilder and collaborator Charles Brackett it becomes the tale of innocent grammarian Professor Bertram Potts (Gary Cooper) holed up in a NYC brownstone for four years with six other experts compiling an encyclopaedia who finds himself stumped when it comes to contemporary slang. A conversation with a delivery man leaves him at a nightclub where burlesque dancer and singer Sugarpuss O’Shea (Barbara Stanwyck) performs with the Gene Krupa Orchestra and he enters a world of boogie woogie and moolah. Her gangster boyfriend Dana Andrews is on the lam and she needs to hide out to stop being forced to testify against him so feigning a cold takes up residence with the experts whereupon her illness is proclaimed “a slight rosiness in the laryngeal area” to which she retorts “It’s as red as The Daily Worker and just as sore!” Dialogue to die for, fabulous dresses (by Edith Head), a winning and unlikely romance (all the ‘dwarfs’ love her – the housekeeper, not so much), all are sublimated in a very odd shootout with Dan Duryea proving a patsy. Extremely funny indeed. Directed by Howard Hawks, this would eventually be remade by him as the musical A Song is Born.

The Thrill of it All (1963)

The Thrill of it All.jpg

This has been a sentimental favourite since I was probably ten years old and it should be grist to the mill of card-carrying feminists, but there you go. Doris is the homemaker and mom of two married to ob-gyn James Garner whose stories about her kids’ bathtime make her the ideal shill for Happy Soap – the company grandee is the father-in-law of Garner’s oldest patient, soon to be a first-time mom. Day’s frequent absences from home and her growing stardom cause chaos on the domestic front. Carl Reiner’s screenplay takes potshots at TV, commercials, male-female relationships and everything in between in what is a sight gag- and joke-strewn satire of contemporary life and it proved huge at the box office. Doris is great playing a very comedic role straight and Garner is perfect as the harried confused husband who is victim of a great sequence involving his car and a swimming pool he didn’t know was in his yard. My granddad’s fave rave Zasu Pitts has a funny role as the paranoid housekeeper, Reiner himself plays the hilariously repetitive soap opera roles, Edward Andrews is superb as the oldest father in town and Ross Hunter (and Day’s hubby Martin Melcher) proved he could produce another winning contempo-comedy starring Day, with all the values he’d been putting into Sirk’s marital melodramas and without the kind of formula you might have expected at this stage of their collaborations following the Rock Hudson series. Bright shiny glossy fun! You’ll feel just like you washed with Happy Soap. Directed by Norman Jewison.

The Awful Truth (1937)

The Awful Truth 1937.jpg

Leo McCarey was probably the best looking, classiest, coolest director in Hollywood in his time. When smoother-than-thou Cary Grant suffered a crisis of confidence shooting this comedy of remarriage and couldn’t switch roles with Ralph Bellamy he ended up imitating McCarey and inadvertently became the hero of the screwball genre and probably the greatest comic actor of all time – and that’s saying something. And this was the role that shaped his approach to most of his other performances. He and Irene Dunne are both playing around and agree to a divorce – but argue for custody of the fabulous Mr Smith the wire fox terrier played by Skippy aka Asta from The Thin Man series – and who wouldn’t? Bellamy is the hayseed oilman she takes up with, Molly Lamont is the wealthy playgirl Cary fools around with, but they can’t avoid their attraction to each other. This ends with a notorious tease and a black cat. Truly, Leo McCarey had the Lubitsch Touch – better even than Lubitsch himself. Art Deco screwball at its most sophisticated and witty. Adapted from Arthur Richman’s play by Vina Delmar with help from Sidney Buchman and McCarey himself. Sublime.

What’s Up, Doc? (1972)

What's Up Doc movie poster.jpg

Ryan O’Neal is the absent-minded musicologist whose rocks are upset by scatty accident-prone college dropout Barbra Streisand in this Peter Bogdanovich homage to and adaptation of the great screwball comedy Bringing Up Baby. A San Francisco hotel is the location where a kiss-chase on a mammoth scale proceeds, with thieves and assorted academics and hotel staff running in circles, all because of a very popular type of plaid suitcase. With Streisand crooning as Ryan tickles the keys and a to-die-for supporting cast – Madeline Kahn! Kenneth Mars! Austin Pendleton! – this is a sheerly hilarious, swoony delight from start to delectable finish. Amongst the many movie references is an homage to the car chase in Bullitt! Written by Buck Henry, Robert Benton and David Newman, and Bogdanovich himself. One of the funniest films ever made.