Olivia Killingsworth

ABOUT THIS SERIES: I’ve been watching a lot of older films lately. It’s partly an earnest effort, as a modern American actor, to further educate myself about my artistic ancestry—to better understand those who have gone before me, instead of constantly comparing myself to my contemporaries. And it’s partly an excuse to curl up on the couch with some popcorn and a cute date, and write snarky posts about it later.

Anastasia (1956)

Yul Brynner is an opportunistic Russian businessman looking for an impostor who can pass as the Grand Duchess Anastasia, and Ingrid Bergman is the mysterious lady who happens to fit the part. In fact, she fits so well she may actually BE the real Anastasia! But nobody knows for sure, because she’s also crazy! But Brynner doesn’t seem to care! And neither do we really, because after a while all we really care about is OMG ARE THEY GOING TO GET TOGETHER OR WHAT??? It’s just like that other movie FROM THE SAME YEAR, where Yul Brynner shares the screen with a pretty white lady and they do a waltz loaded with all kinds of sexual tension! (Anastasia has a tension-filled waltz scene too. All together now: “One-two-three! One-two-three! Yul-Brynner-is-hot!”)

Also, Yul croons and plays the guitar in this one. Which is hot.

“I am totally shredding right now.” – Yul Brynner

Silk Stockings (1957)

This is a musical remake of Ninotchka, which I have never seen (but it’s totally on my list!), with music and lyrics by Cole Porter. Fred Astaire, in one of his last starring roles in a movie musical, plays opposite Cyd Charisse (she of the long legs). And okay, so they may not be the best at acting and singing, but BOY, can they dance! Everything that is lacking in their scenes and songs together (chemistry, human connection, storytelling) suddenly comes out in their dancing. It’s like a kind of dance porn: you just want to fast-forward through all the “scenes” and skip the weak little  “plot” so you can get to some hot hoofing action!

Some of my favorite dance-porn from this movie: Charisse does the best dance about lingerie ever (btw, that is totally how I get dressed every morning), and Astaire and Janis Paige get funky on a boardroom table (can I please have that green dress she’s wearing? and those shoes too). But the most interesting sequence is a number that was added specifically for Astaire: “The Ritz Roll and Rock”, in which our man Fred does a little send-up of the then-emerging rock-and-roll genre, and symbolically bids farewell to movie musicals by smashing his iconic top hat at the end.

Watch the whole darn thing, why don’t you (and keep in mind HE WAS IN HIS LATE FIFTIES when he made this):

Eat your heart out, Elvis.

Oh, and by the way, as with all the films in a previous Classic Movie Club post, both of these movies ALSO took place (for the most part) in a mythical place called “Paris” where nobody speaks French and everyone talks with either an American or a British accent. Good job, Hollywood!

So what other classic movies do you think I should watch? Which are not set in Paris? Or “Paris”?

ABOUT THIS SERIES: I’ve been watching a lot of older films lately. It’s partly an earnest effort, as a modern American actor, to further educate myself about my artistic ancestry—to better understand those who have gone before me, instead of constantly comparing myself to my contemporaries. And it’s partly an excuse to curl up on the couch with some popcorn and a cute date, and write snarky posts about it later.

This week: Hurricane movies!

Ponyo (2008)

Okay, not really an old movie, but I consider anything that Hayao Miyazaki does to be an instant classic. I mean, come on: Princess Mononoke? Spirited Away? The guy’s a genius; it’s no wonder John Lasseter of Pixar idolizes him, as do many other Hollywood animators. As with all Miyazaki masterpieces, Ponyo features a great story, beautifully told, in a style that is at once wildly fantastical and deeply human. Plus, the U.S. version has lots of familiar celebrity voices in it: Tina Fey, Matt Damon, Liam Neeson, Cate Blanchett and Betty White, among others (YES, please! I need more Betty White in my life). I loved this movie so much that I’ve already totally geeked out and ordered a t-shirt.

And okay, there isn’t really a hurricane in this movie—it’s more of a tsunami. But still! A water event! Totally appropriate for a weekend spent inside eating canned food and awaiting the wrath (or not) of Irene. Also, it’s a great date movie—well, a great date movie for geeks, anyway (which I totally am). The story is actually a modern reboot of Hans Christian Andersen’s classic, The Little Mermaid, except that in this version, the mermaid is a magical little fish named Ponyo, who becomes so attached to a five-year-old boy that she decides to become human herself; but he has to prove his love to her first, otherwise she becomes sea foam. Drama and cuteness ensue! My hurricane date and I both found the sweet “kid love” aspect of this film to be unbelievably adorable. We also loved the hilariously cute Ponyo theme song, which my guy has ALREADY programmed as a ringtone for me on his phone. What a geek! It’s like we were made for each other. In a geek factory.

Also, Ponyo is so magical that she RUNS ON WATER. During a TSUNAMI.

Key Largo (1948)

Ugh. We watched this movie, which stars Humphrey Bogart as a WWII veteran and Lauren Bacall as his war buddy’s widow, because it has a hurricane in it. Unfortunately, that’s the only interesting thing about this film (sorry, Cousin Bill—but thanks all the same for the suggestion). The storm traps Bogart and Bacall in a hotel on Key Largo with a mobster and his entourage, who are trying to escape to Cuba. Disappointingly, given the big names in the cast, most of the acting in this film is clichéd and two-dimensional—with the possible exception of Claire Trevor, who does some pretty great physical condition work as the faded alcoholic moll, Gaye Dawn. But there weren’t very many sparks flying between Bogart and Bacall, which is sad, given how great they are together in The Big Sleep. I mean, check it out:

Oh, SNAP! Now that is some hot Bogart-Bacall action.

The Thin Man (1934)

Alright, so this IS a classic, but there is totally no hurricane, or major weather event of any kind, in this movie—unless you count the TORNADO of AWESOMENESS that is the sexy crime-solving duo of William Powell and Myrna Loy as Nick and Nora Charles. They’re rich, they’re hot, they’re witty, they drink all the time, and they fight crime. But they sleep in separate beds! Ah, the Hays Code.

The dialogue is super-snappy and full of great zingers:

Nick: I’m a hero. I was shot twice in the Tribune.
Nora: I read where you were shot 5 times in the tabloids.
Nick: It’s not true. He didn’t come anywhere near my tabloids.

No wonder Johnny Depp has already signed on to play Nick in the forthcoming remake. No word yet on who will play his wife; I just hope that they find as capable an actor as Edward Ellis to play the “Thin Man” of the title, Clyde Wynant. Ellis’ performance in the original, though brief, is a study in ease, stillness and subtlety; I found that particularly inspiring, given his significant background as a stage actor (which, these days, is annoyingly considered by some in the industry to be a hindrance, rather than a boon, to a performer trying to break into film and television). And of course, the other performance that will be hard to top in the new version is that of the impeccably trained dog who played Nick and Nora’s trusty terrier:

Who will play Asta now? I smell a great talent-search reality show idea for Animal Planet.

So what about you? What did you watch during the hurricane?

I’ve been watching a lot of older films lately. It’s partly an earnest effort, as a modern American actor, to further educate myself about my artistic ancestry—to better understand those who have gone before me, instead of constantly comparing myself to my contemporaries. And it’s partly an excuse to curl up on the couch with some popcorn and a cute date, and write snarky posts about it later.

Midnight (1939)

Claudette Colbert is brash, beautiful and charming as a witty American chorus girl who gets stranded in “Paris” (I’m putting that in quotes because this movie is clearly not set in the ACTUAL capital of France, but in some fantastical 1930s Hollywood place called “Paris”, where everybody speaks English and their accents sound closer to Brooklyn than Bordeaux). Luckily, she is immediately rescued by a very nice cabbie (Don Ameche as a sweet, handsome, non-DeNiro taxi driver). But since he’s so sweet and handsome and good, she starts to fall in love with him—uh oh! So, commitment-phobe that she is, she runs away while he’s getting gas and sneaks into a fancy party, passing herself off as a baroness. Posing among the hoi polloi, she draws the attention of a millionaire (John Barrymore, stealing every single scene he’s in), who decides to set her up to break up his wife’s affair with another man. Everybody—the chorus-girl-cum-baroness, the millionaire, his wife, and her lover—goes off for a weekend in the country (like you do when you’re rich, or pretending to be). Whereupon Ameche shows up unannounced, threatening to steal Colbert’s thunder… and also her heart! SURPRISE! And also her heart. Hilarity and romance ensue.

All I can say is: HOW COME WE DON’T HAVE ACTORS LIKE DON AMECHE ANYMORE? He’s so handsome! And dashing! And talented! And charming! And funny! I feel like this is perhaps who Brad Pitt is trying to be? But he is not succeeding? George Clooney MAYBE comes close. Maybe.

Also, John Barrymore was such a talented actor, even his eyes are ridiculously expressive. I mean, just look at this photo:

HE IS GOING TO DEVOUR HER WITH HIS EYES, PEOPLE.

Madame Curie (1943)

Greer Garson, who is beautiful and looks like she could be Meryl Streep’s mom (Meryl Streep’s HOT mom), plays famous lady scientist Marie Curie, and Walter Pidgeon is her husband Pierre, and they have the worst case of NERD LOVE ever. I’m not kidding: they seriously do that thing where they walk all over Paris (or “Paris”, I should say, because this movie is also set in that fictitious French city where no one speaks French) passionately discussing physics and math and totally geeking out, only to realize “Wow, we’ve just spent the whole afternoon together and I’m a man and you’re a woman and we’re both single and good-looking and we connect on so many levels and isn’t that—uh, okay then, I’ll see you back at the lab tomorrow <sigh>.” His marriage proposal to her is SO nerd-tastic: he lays it out like a scientific argument, appealing to her rational mind, carefully detailing all of their compatibilities, expounding on their logical suitability for each other as man and wife, as well as scientific collaborators—not even ONCE saying how he actually feels about her. But Pidgeon is so good that you can tell how crazy he is about her anyway. Plus, she has googly eyes for him too, so she says yes—DUH.

This film manages, amazingly, to tell a truly passionate love story without a whole lot of kissing and heavy petting: they do some serious hand-holding (So PG!) and there’s an occasional peck on the forehead (oh my stars!), but that’s about it. They’re just so in love with each other’s brains that we don’t really need to see them in any steamy embraces—we get the point. That sweet, sincere, nerdy love also sets you up for the heartbreak of Pierre’s death later on, which was so sudden and shocking that my date and I both yelled “WHAT?” at the screen, and he went fumbling for his iPhone to look it up—like, the filmmakers must have added that for melodramatic effect, right? But Wikipedia confirms that Pierre Curie was indeed killed in a street accident in 1906, and his wife was understandably devastated and inconsolable afterward.

But they also discovered radium and won the Nobel Prize. So there’s that.

So what about you? Which classics do you like? What films of yore do you like to curl up with on a rainy summer night?