Hoy le toca al western ser el protagonista de esta sección dedicada a carteles, (como lo fue en la gran pantalla durante décadas), y entre los carteles que he elegido, os ofrezco una “joyita”, como lo es el primero que cuelgo por orden de fechas.

Para realizar estos posts, suelo cotejar lo que circula por internet, con mis propios programas, “prospectos” o afiches, (como se les llamaba en la época en los que se repartían en los cines, y que eran una réplica en pequeño, del cartel con que se publicitaba la película en los cines), y este, de momento, no aparece en ninguna de las web que he visitado y que se dedican a colgar posters de películas.

No lo comenté en su momento, pero tampoco pude localizar otro de los que utilicé para ilustrar el post anterior, dedicado al Cine Épico-Histórico. Era el del estreno de “Rey de Reyes”, de 1961, que parece haber desaparecido de la faz de la tierra, pues ni tan siquiera lo tiene IMDb en su original inglés.

Y vamos a verlo-s

La “joyita” a la que me refería es esta: “La Diligencia” (1939), dirigida por John Ford, y protagonizada por el invicto vaquero John Wayne.

El “cartel”, es un troquelado con la imagen de la diligencia que da nombre a la película. Lo compré en el rastro hace unos años, y es de cartulina, no de papel, como lo eran la mayoría de los programas. Siempre he tenido una duda con respecto a el. Creo que originalmente tenia una trasera que lo hacía mantenerse en pié, y que seguramente llevaría impresos los datos de su estreno (cine, fecha…), pero si fue así, ya no llegó a mis manos; pero aun con todo, es una de las piezas de lujo de mi colección. No se puede negar su atractivo. Yo tan sólo por el, hubiera ido a ver “La diligencia”.

Nueve años más tarde (1948), se estrena “Río Rojo”, de Howard Hawks, con Wayne de protagonista, y un recién llegado al cine Montgomery Clift, en un film épico que narra los avatares de unos vaqueros que conducen un rebaño de ganado.

Este film que se considera uno de los mejores western de la historia del cine, era publicitado por este sencillo cartel en el que tan sólo se nos muestra a los protagonistas en dos escenas de la película, y un fondo que se adivina de violencia.

En 1952 se pudo ver “Solo ante el peligro”, dirigida por Fred Zinnemann, protagonizada por Gary Cooper y Grace Kelly, y con una excelente banda sonora de Dimitri Tiomkin, tan reconocible, que con sólo escuchar el título de la película, ya te viene a la mente y te pones a tatarearla.

Esta inolvidable película, en la que se masca la tensión durante todo su metraje, se publicitó en su estreno con este sencillo cartel, en el que tan sólo podíamos ver a la pareja protagonista, y un pequeño detalle del pueblo, con Grace Kelly. Tampoco se necesitaba mucho más para atraer al espectador. El tandem Cooper-Kelly era suficiente.

Y con tan sólo la Crawford bajo la rama desnuda de un árbol, llegaba “Johnny Guitar”, de Nicholas Ray, el año 1954, en donde enmarcada en un westerm clásico, se nos narra una historia de amor adulto como pocas veces se ha llevado a la pantalla.

Esta sencilla película, (hoy mítica dentro del género, y de la historia del cine), con un presupuesto de serie B, consiguió con la calidad de su guión, dirección, interpretaciones, y música (todo un completo), atraer al público de entonces, igual que atrae ahora al espectador que gusta del buen cine.

Célebre este diálogo entre Vienna (Joan Crawford) y Johnny (Sterling Hayden):

Johnny: ¿A cuántos hombres has amado?
Vienna: A tantos como mujeres tú has olvidado.
Johnny: ¡No te vayas!
Vienna: No me he movido.
Johnny: Dime algo agradable.
Vienna: Claro. ¿Qué quieres que te diga?
Johnny: Miénteme. Dime que me has esperado todos estos años. Dímelo.
Vienna: Te he esperado todos estos años.
Johnny: Dime que habrías muerto si yo no hubiese vuelto.
Vienna: Habría muerto si tú no hubieses vuelto.
Johnny: Dime que aún me quieres como yo te quiero.
Vienna: Aún te quiero como tú me quieres.
Johnny: Gracias. Muchas gracias.

De 1956 es “Centauros del desierto”, de John Ford, mítica entre las míticas. En el cartel: los tres protagonistas y el desierto. John Wayne, el actor fetiche del género, Jeffrey Hunter, a cinco años vista de protagonizar “Rey de Reyes”, y Natalie Wood que había rodado el año anterior “Rebelde sin causa”, al lado de James Dean.

“Cimarrón”, de 1960, firmada por Anthony Mann, narraba la historia de una familia de colonos durante cuatro generaciones.

Recoge una de las escenas más espectaculares del género, cuando en Oklahoma, centenares de colonos en sus carretas, disputan una carrera para conseguir las mejores parcelas de terreno en donde asentarse.

El cartel es uno de los originales de su estreno, pero existe otro, en formato apaisado (que no he podido escanear, de momento), que da una perspectiva más amplia de esa carrera.

“El Álamo”, también es de 1960. Dirigida por el cowoy entre los cowoys, John Wayne (aunque la sombra de su amigo John Ford cabalgó constantemente sobre el rodaje).

Épica, sentimental, patriotera… Un conjunto sin embargo atractivo. Buenos diálogos, buenas interpretaciones, buen guión (aunque trastoque la verdadera historia), y una banda sonora tan acertada de Dimitri Tiomkin, que solo por ella merecería la pena ver la película.

En el cartel, David Crockett (Wayne), Jim Boowe (Widmark), y el coronel Travis (Harvey).

Y como 1960 fue un año prolífico en buenos western, hay que ver el cartel de otra famosa película que se realizó ese mismo año: “Los 7 magníficos”

La dirigió John Sturges, sobre un guión que recoge la esencia de “Los siete samuráis”, que Kurosawa había realizado seis años antes.

Protagonizada por Yul Brynner, algunos rostros ya conocidos, y por otros que posteriormente se harían famosos (McQueen, Bronson…), sin alcanzar las excelencias del film en el que se basa, contiene todos los elementos del westerm clásico, y como en “El Álamo”, una banda sonora memorable de Elmer Bernstein, que sigue situada entre las 25 mejores del cine.

El cartel nos muestra a los siete, delante del “7” rodeados de un halo de luz envolvente para potenciar su magnificencia.

Espectacular es “La conquista del Oeste”, que llegó dos años más tarde, de la mano de tres reconocidos directores (John Ford, Henry Hathaway, y George Marshall), y que cuenta en tres episodios (cada uno a cargo de un director), la epopeya de la colonización definitiva de Estados Unidos, desde sus primeros pioneros, hasta abarcar el presente en el que se rodó.

El extenso plantel de actores que aparecen el film, aún hoy en día es un “gancho” para ver la película.

Fue la primera película rodada en Cinerama (hasta entonces sólo se habían realizado reportajes), y eso le añadió atractivo para el espectador.

Su banda sonora, a cargo de Alfred Newman, también para recordar siempre.

El cartel refleja un poco el contenido de la historia, con sus elementos de: guerra, indios, la caza del bisionte, ferrocarril, pozos de petróleo…. Aunque se queda corto para dar una idea sobre las épocas que abarca la película.

En los últimos estertores del westerm clásico, Howard Hawks dirigió en 1967 “El dorado”, que contiene muchos de los elementos que utilizó en “Río Bravo”, pero que resultan tanto o más atractivos que en aquella, y en los que podemos ver el buen hacer de siempre de su director.

Mucho más desenfadada que su “versionada”, con situaciones realmente humorísticas, “El Dorado” es otro de los films que merece la pena ser visto o revisado. También, por el dúo protagonista. Dos actores clásicos que siempre que aparecían en pantalla, esta se “agrandaba”.

En el cartel, sobraba con ver la imagen de Wayne y de Mitchum para llevar a la gente al cine.

Swanson   

Since that movie had come out in 1974 the song is older than Taco's version in 1983.  Of course it took me a little while to figure all this out.  The song has had a long history since first being written in 1929.  At first the song didn't even have the lyrics that its popular for like "Dressed up like a million dollar trooper, trying hard to look like Gary Cooper." Which brings me back to High Noon.  The song is not in there, but Gary Cooper is and in that film I'd say he was worth more than a million dollar trooper.  He stood up to the bad guys alone without the help of the town.  Fred Astaire has also done the song in the 40s.

I guess a lot of people like the song.  I do and I think that the song's long existence makes it a classic. 

Kagehime

Author Ayn Rand's works were controversial for their time and continue to stir minds today. Her works are today classified as the exemplars of the principles of the philosophy of Objectivism, also coined by Rand.

A controversial position of Rand's philosophy is a critique of morality and altruism--much of which is the content of many religious themes and movements nowadays.

Consider the questions:

• Why is it moral to serve the happiness of others but not your own?
• Why is it immoral for you to desire, but moral for others to do so?

Here's a clip which is a reading of the speech of John Galt--Rand's character in her novel: Atlas Shrugged--which details a discussion of these and other questions regarding morality.

Having a critical mind is an attribute of objectivism.

In another of Rand's works: The Fountainhead, her character the architect Howard Roark is on trial for destroying a building that he designed. His courtroom defense is an outline of more principles: Man lives for himself, not for others.

Man's ego is the fountainhead of human progress
- Ayn Rand

Here is a clip of a movie adaptation of Rand's novel, with Roark portrayed by Gary Cooper:

Parece que a principios del siglo XX ya era un problema tener que aguantar a vendores que iban de puerta en puerta molestando al personal. 

Publican en Modern Mechanix que, para evitar esos problemas, este invento (que llegó a anunciar el propio Gary Cooper, al que vemos en la foto) estaba compuesto por una cajetilla que obligaba al visitante a introducir 10 centavos para poder hacer sonar el timbre. Si la visita era esperada o de un amigo, sin problemas, le abrías y le devolvías su dinero, pero si el visitante era un indeseable, éste ya sabía que, si llamaba, tenía muchas posibilidades de perder esos centavos.

Lo más curioso es que, aunque hoy en día no parece tener mucha aplicación, se basa en el mismo concepto que algunas ideas que han surgido para evitar problemas “modernos”, como el spam en el correo electrónico o, como decíamos antes, los torturantes telemarketers. Lo explican en Microsiervos:

Más interesante resulta que se trata de la misma teoría que alguna vez se ha intentado aplicar como sistema anti-spam para evitar el correo basura: que cada envío de correo que hiciera un emisor tuviera un «coste simbólico» pero real mínimo (ej. un micropago de un céntimo de euro) que el receptor devolviera automáticamente en caso de que no marcara el mensaje como spam.

En cambio, si la persona que recibe el mensaje lo considerara en la categoría de «no solicitado», se podría quedar con el micropago. A los que envían los mensajes les saldrá tan caro perder todo ese dinero que la gente no les iba a devolver, que no les resultaría rentable.

Lo mismo podría aplicarse de algún modo a las llamadas de telemarketing por teléfono no solicitadas, SMSs publicitarios, spit o spam por voz IP y demás. 

Independientemente de lo molestos que son los correos de spam, yo quiero un timbre de esos para mi casa. Es una verdadera molestia la cantidad de veces que me tengo que levantar durante una mañana para abrir la puerta y solamente decir "Ahorita no, gracias".

This post originally appeared on my personal site but since I have been called upon to lead Vaulting Sky I take up the challenge of facing ridicule and exposing myself to bodily harm on this, our feature blog. Alone and shivering I creep forth, compelled by some dark force to step out and proclaim that the films listed at the end of this post are the greatest westerns ever made.

What prompted this seedy daring? Our need for lists and cataloging, foolish ego and the plain old fact that if one has a blog it might as well be an interesting and occasionally hilarious read. Without this what is the point of blogging? The very fact that we are here in the blogging universe says to the world, “Hey, look at me. I may not be pretty but, darn it, I exist!

Then there is the fact of the Western. It is an invented art form and perhaps, along with jazz, the only art forms to be almost wholly formed on American soil.

The Old West as it comes down to us in the movie art form called “The Western,” is mostly myth. We all know or have caught hints that Wyatt Earp was considerably less than his self-generating reviews which were ripe for the pickings for an America hungry for heroes (When isn't America hungry for heroes?), and the horrors of the Native American ordeal in this country are now widely known fact.

Yet Hollywood found a way to express itself most powerfully by taking the dime-store myths of quick-draw, gun-slingers and Indian Fighting he-men and blowing them up into epic heroes while burying beneath the vast landscapes and sun-blasted exteriors the fears, the desperate hopes, and the yearning for role models that might teach us how to be good people in a world gone gray from compromise.

A man could walk alone in a movie western and declare the hard truths of black and white though, beneath this gritty, rock hard exterior lay a man wrestling with fears and doubts just like the rest of us.

And no movie star did this better than the much maligned, much hated, much under-rated John Wayne an actor whom, in his element, was as great an artist as Cary Grant, Fred Astaire, Marlon Brando, James Cagney, Burt Lancaster, Anthony Hopkins, Kirk Douglas, Robert De Niro, Jack Nicholson, Humphrey Bogart, Robert Mitchum, Al Pacino, and Robert Ryan.

In Wayne we have an actor that carried the whole world in his eyes and much of that world contained all the hurt and pain that would subdue any thousand men, let alone one, lone hero. But more on Wayne, later.

You will note the presence of Eastwood, Bronson and Scott, but neither Cooper, Flynn nor Ladd made the list. Their Westerns are certainly interesting but they lack that complete package that would put them on such a list as this. Script, direction, and acting must all combine to make a memorable western and while I do enjoy “Shane,” “They Died With Their Boots On,” and “High Noon,” they are not works of art, or those works that repay careful attention and grow richer upon repeat visits.

An aesthetic statement?

Yes.

A shabby one?

Yes.

Scary?

I scare myself!

Thus, without further ado here are, in my throttled, beaten down, kicked and cudgeled opinion, the greatest westerns ever made (and below the list an attempt at commentary on each of the films):

1. "The Searchers"

2. "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly"

3. "Ride the High Country / "The Wild Bunch"

4. "Red River"

5. "My Darling Clementine"

6. "Once Upon a Time in the West"

7. "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance"

8. "She Wore a Yellow Ribbon"

9. "Rio Bravo"

10. "Stagecoach"

Hang on, a commentary, for what its worth, follows:

1. "The Searchers"

(Ford Dir., Wayne, Hunter, Miles)

Stop. I know the rage. I know the blows. I understand the frustration. But stop.

There is one thing we have to understand. There will never be an answer for John Wayne the creature, the man, the symbol, the poster boy, the devotee, the siren, the patriot, the loon, the lunk-head, the icon. There can only be a serious appraisal of John Wayne's movies by serious people. Wayne was said to be a bore, a racist, a misogynist, a goon, a coward, and a draft dodger. It is known that he escaped service from not one but two "patriotic" wars. (I understand the need to fight WWII but WWI?) At any rate, this small aside simply shows us the baggage that already attends to the Duke even before we might consider Wayne as Donposa has, rightly in my opinion, called him: one of the very greatest artists that America has ever produced.

Wait I have just taken a huge guzzle of Trader Joe's excellent Harris Tawny Port the better to ward of the cudgeling I suspect is my due for having uttered, for some, such profound nonsense. No, I am not drinking straight from the bottle. Besides the bottle is not even in a brown bag which, as we all know, is the only proper way to bottle-guzzle. And I am not "snifting" from a big fat jar passing as a glass. You John Wayne haters will stop at nothing. Nothing!

Further:

I am not a member of the John Birch Society nor have I ever aspired to be.

And, finally, no I am not some vile, backseat goon screaming out "Bomb, bomb, bomb, / bomb, bomb Iran."

I am a mere fan, perhaps soon to be an ex-fan but I warn you: the authorities have been alerted. If anything happens to me this blog will go dark--so there.

With such a safety net in place I can now, loudly, er, make that quietly but with some measure of conviction, proclaim that the greatest Western ever made is John Ford's "The Searchers." Wait. Ok it was the alarms but my security cameras only picked up a strange looking man in a hoodie rifling through my neighbor's Infinity Q45. I will say this about that: "I'm glad it's not me!"

Back. "The Searchers." It is terrifying. No, not because John Wayne enters the frame, (Stop it haters!), but because it starts in mystery and ends in mystery and you cannot imagine an end for any of the main characters. What has gone on before the movie's legendary final shot is mostly horror and the anticipation of horror. Even attempts at humor are bathed in a glow that breeds horror around the next bend. It is a movie of massacres and crushed young love and thwarted hearts that burn with rage at memories too painful to dwell on and too precious to totally still.

"The Searchers" is searing in the vile racism breathed by its main character, Wayne's Ethan Edwards, the unreconstructed Confederate (Yes, a Johnny Reb!). But "The Searchers," on the other hand, is unapologetic also about its stern condemnation of this same man's hate, his sometimes boorish behavior and his eventual "turning."

"The Searchers" is lurid in its great action scenes in that they are played out with hatred as their real base.

Wayne's character is one of only three film roles where Wayne disappeared and a towering figure of world class art emerged, hideous warts and all. The other two film roles were: Tom Dunston in "Red River," and Captain Nelson Brittles in "She Wore a Yellow Ribbon." Here are characters that rival Cagney's Cody Jarrett and George M. Cohan; Bogart's Fred C. Dobbs and Commander Phillip Francis Queeg; Brando's Don Corleone; Al Pacino's Michael Corleone; Russell Crowe's Captain Jack Aubrey and John Nash; Denzel Washington's Trip and Malcolm X; Robert De Niro's Travis Bickle, Johnny Boy, Jake LaMotta, Jimmy Conway, and young Don Corleone. In short Ethan is allowed to be himself without any interference from the "star" playing him.

"The Searchers" is screaming. It is a shout heard across endless deserts and lonely mountain-ringed plains. Ford's eye misses nothing and the vast, glorious landscapes that he captures become, in themselves, characters and players in this greatest of American epics.

You know the plot. Some adore it; others scowl when they speak of it.

Mystery, unrequited lust, love never achieved, a life consigned to wandering, massive defeats, the greatest scene of impending doom ever captured on the screen. Desperate battles, Revenge--strangled. Burning passions. Seemingly unquenchable hatreds. Towering crescendo. Mystery again.

Max Steiner's score is one of the greatest ever produced by Hollywood and Stan Jones' title song, sung by the venerable Sons of the Pioneers (Roy Rogers' old group), enters the memory and the heart like it is brain matter and heart tissue.

There are a few films that might equal "The Searchers" as the greatest film ever made but none, however, surpass it.

2. "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly"

No one begrudges “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly” its towering status as one of the greatest movies of all time. Indeed it may be the second most outrageous “great” film ever made. If, to stray for a moment, “Chimes at Midnight,” where Orson Wells attempts to cram pieces of the two Henry IV plays, The Merry Wives of Windsor, Richard II, and Henry V into a tidy epic with a showpiece battle scene thrown in for good measure for a total package that runs just under two hours (The result: A stupendous triumph!), is the most bold and positively insanely outrageous of the great movies, then TGTBTU, with its epic Civil War backdrop and its characters lust for gold, is right up there in its class.

TGTBTU is a Western that takes to the extreme the possibilities inherent in the genre. It is a film of lean, angular poses and sharp colors. Its dialogue is often terse and pointed so that lines ricochet around the memory for quite awhile before becoming spent. Eli Wallach’s Tuco is given some room to run gloriously around like a firecracker forever lit without igniting, but the film draws its strength from the iconic poses of Clint Eastwood’s Blondie and Lee Van Cleef’s Angel Eyes. They bookend Tuco’s nervous energy with their tall, rail thin frames. They are all about looks and poses and they both possess a serene languor that while quietly breathing menace it is yet a menace with verve and a real sense of style.

A quibble might break forth about which of the two Sergio Leone masterpieces might hold sway if put into a locked room with a bottle of Gran Patron on the table between them. I believe “The Good, The Bad and The Ugly” would emerge from the room, bloodied but victorious.

The key is its entertainment value. TGTBTU repays countless viewings. One never tires of its mysteries. Its use of its hero Blondie is subtle and assured. Blondie may be a jackal but he is a jackal with a heart, not of gold, mind you, but a with a heart nevertheless. It is Blondie who sees Tuco’s humiliation at his priestly brother's hands and wisely keeps this to himself; it is Blondie who has sympathy for the Union Captain forced into senseless battles for worthless objectives; and it is Blondie who covers the dying Confederate teen with a warm coat, offers him a smoke, and stays with him until he perishes.

But Blondie is not, by any means, soft and emotional. He is a thug and as greedy and as opportunistic as either Tuco or Angel Eyes. And from this stand Eastwood and Leone never yield (although there are rumors that Leone kept wanting to change the script on the set but Eastwood, wisely, refused) for a moment. Thus it is after the Confederate youth dies that Blondie coolly takes the same cigar that the youth sucked on and lights a canon that is calmly aimed at the fleeing Tuco!

“Once Upon a Time in the West,” is certainly Charles Bronson’s greatest film and he is as iconic as Eastwood in some ways. But Eastwood looks as if his whole persona was built for leans and poses. Bronson has a scrambler’s look–he’s Blondie in Tuco’s body and clothes. OUATITW is a tad more moving. I don’t know what it is but I get teary-eyed when Bronson looks at Claudia Cardinale and says: “Now I gotta go,” and he leaves with both of them knowing they will never see each other again.

Henry Fonda’s villain is sublime in OUATITW. It is a late triumph for the old time mega-star and he brings to the role of the wicked Frank the same conviction that he brought to his very best heroic films. He is relaxed, funny and wholly, and unapologetically, murderous.

But OUATITW falls off with the Cheyenne story line that features Jason Robards. Here the movie sags a bit and though Robards is his usual excellent self he isn’t given much to do. The witty lines, the cool poses, the sense of frame owning is denied his character. Is this a case of one star and story line too many? Perhaps.

Even Morricone’s superb soundtrack seems to meander with Cheyenne’s character and that is something unheard of on a Morricone score.

Finally, the OUATITW story of how the West was settled and the epic glory of the first Western railroads is a wonderful one but Leone makes much more use of the Civil War backdrop in TGTBTU. The throwaway scenes are downright jaw dropping. There is, for example, the magnificent scene where the retreating Rebs flow through town as canon shots boom all around them. Meanwhile the real action is the hunt for Blondie by Tuco and his men going on upstairs in a hotel. And what can one say about the great shot of Union soldiers shooting a deserter as Blondie and Angel Eyes ride into town looking for the buried gold that everyone wants. As the war swirls around them, Blondie, Tuco and Angel Eyes are reside in their own parallel universe

Enough! In the end taste will out and if someone prefers “Once Upon a Time in America” over “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly” they are, in the end, on as equally a solid piece of ground as I believe I am.

Finally, there is the late, great Leone, the fabulous Italian filmmaker, the master of framing and a visual poet on par with Vidor, Mann and Scorsese. In his hands the Western was both poetry and music. Landscapes, characters, ideas all flow by, now in tumultuous riot, now in quiet concert and with Morricone’s head spinning scores accompanying his vision, Leone pulled off that rare thing that only great artists are able to pull off: he created two works that triumph both as crackling entertainment and as profound art.

3. "Ride the High Country / "The Wild Bunch" (tie)

(Peckinpah Dir., Scott. McCrea [Country]; Holden, Ryan, Borgnine, Johnson, Oates, O'Brien [Bunch]:

Two towers from Peckinpah.

Both made in the 60's. "Ride the High Country" could stand here alone and be fine. Randolph Scott and Joel McCrea two of the old stars of Hollywood had moved on late in life when they were called upon by Sam Peckinpah to have one more last chance to star in a Western. It turns out that these mighty veterans knew the worth of the project they were getting into. McCrea is an old, epic lawman fallen on hard times who picks himself up and takes a dangerous job transporting gold from a mine to a bank. This job restores McCrea's pride and confidence and we begin to a late flowering in the old, veteran lawman whose moral code has now been revived. Along the way he partners with his old buddy Scott who was also a lawman veteran but a one who has gone further to seed. Indeed Scott plans to rob his buddy and take the gold!

There may be no more moving Western, save one, than this. Scott and McCrea have never been more towering and Peckinpah's relaxed storytelling and beautiful landscapes capture eloquently the poetry of shifting emotional landscapes. The dialogue is to die for and the movie is full of electrifying set pieces. Yes, it rocks!

By the way, there is only one other great Western ending in the movies that tops the one that ends this masterpiece. Once you watch "Ride the High Country" you will see that I do not speak falsely.

"The Wild Bunch" is the adventure of a gang of thieves whose days of glory are, as William Holden's gang leader Pike says "closing fast." Now, on the surface, the Bunch are mere murderous, thieving louts. They are ruthless. William Holden, Ernest Borgnine (yes, Mchale himself!), Warren Oates and Ben Johnson, play the core gang members. Sam Peckinpah, the director, sets up the gang's M.O. early when the Bunch bursts into a bank at the start of the film and Holden tells his gang of the innocents gathered there:

"If they move--kill 'em!"

On the surface this is not a bunch to take to heart. But Peckinpah keeps our attention on the Gang and as we learn that it functions like a family of outsiders taking their whacks against authority, they not onoy grow upon us but become, yes, endearing! Never lovable they are, nevertheless, men we come to admire for their own sense of right and wrong.

Of course they are also hunted. There is a relentless pursuit of this aging outlaw gang let by ex-Pike partner Robert Ryan's Deke who clearly has not heard of the "stop snitching" campaign now currently littering our urban streets. Ryan's Deke is a broken hood who just wants to lie down and rest. His only chance to escape prison for good is in corralling his old partner and as the weary bounty-hunter/betrayer Ryan is at his very best!

Holden the gang leader? Yes, the mighty Bill! The same William Holden of Billy Wilder's excellent triumphs "Sunset Boulevard," and "Stalag 17." The same William Holden of "Born Yesterday." The same William Holden of "Sabrina." The same William Holden of "Bridge on the River Kwai." Yes, that glorious William Holden.

And he is truly magnificent as one of those heroes who could care less about the outside world and the people in it, but grows towering and inspiring as the leader of his own little universe in which the gang revolves.

Along with Holden and Ryan, Peckinpah also stars. The now celebrated slow motion scenes of mayhem that Peckinpah submitted his audiences to were not properly appreciated in 1969 when the film came out. They are now. And the final walk to the Armageddon shootout must be seen, (I know this is a truly tiresome cliche but here it is gainfully employed), to be believed.

"Ride the High Country" and "The Wild Bunch" could, on their own, top any Greatest Westerns list. Sadly, they cannot here. They are towers. They are at the very highest heights of world cinema and modern art but, incredible as it may seem, two other works must, to this lone blogger at least, be ranked ahead of them.

It is a terrible case to make and I understand this full well. But I shall try to do just that over the coming few days. And I shall tremble all the way knowing that the only supports upon which I might rely are my own judgment and my own daring--shaky as both are.

4. "Red River"

(Hawks Dir., Wayne, Clift, Dru, Brennan, Ireland):

Hawks at his greatest. "Red River"s was John Wayne's breakout film, the film that made Hollywood gasp. Wayne, when broken early, can be one of the very greatest of artists and Donposa is right to point this out. Here he has a tragedy early in life and it profoundly affects his desperation years later as he must move a sea of cattle to the North through Indian territory, drought areas, thieves, and bushwhackers, or else go broke and lose everything.

This is the film that really understood the possibilities of the epic "dark" Western. The real key to this film is how Wayne bitter and despairing one moment can be heroic and epic the next. His Tom Dunston is one of the very greatest characters in the movies.

5. "My Darling Clementine"

(Ford dir., Fonda. Mature, Brennan):

The best of the "OK Corral" epics with Henry Fonda as a wonderful, laid back Earp, Victor Mature as the sick but deadly Doc Holiday, and Walter Brennan as the nasty and murderous Pa Clanton. The scene where Fonda and Cathy Downs, as "Clementine," take their slow walk to the Sunday Dance as the bells clang and flags flap gently in the wind, is one of the greatest in all of the cinema. Girls? Don't worry. You'll see what I mean.The black and white photography is stupendous and Ford is totally on his game. Magnificent!One of the greatest lines in the cinema belongs to Brennan's Pa Clanton:"If you pull a gun--kill a man!"

6. "Once Upon a Time in the West"

(Dir. Sergio Leone; Starring Charles Bronson, Claudia Cardinale, Henry Fonda, and Jason Robards).

This dark Leone masterpiece is languorous in its pacing and not for all tastes. But it never fails to move if you stay with it. Bronson has never been better and Fonda is absolutely lights out/bonkers as, guess what, one of the greatest movie villains ever! Bronson, a man not given to many words, rides into town to settle a score from long ago. Cardinale arrives from Italy as a mail order bride only to find her “husband” killed by the evil Fonda and his gang. Robards is an outlaw who gets pinned with the murder of Cardinale’s husband. Everything comes together in the end and everything, surprise, works gloriously. The great Ennio Morricone’s soundtrack is almost as towering as his kick-in-the door triumph of a score for “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.”

This is a towering work that, in a fair world, might even be considered a top five film. Alas in such a world where great Westerns used to be the norm and not the exception, "Once Upon a Time in the West" must be content with this: a second tier berth in a first rate list.

Cruel world!

7. "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance"

(Dir: John Ford; Starring John Wayne, James Stewart, Vera Miles, and Lee Marvin).

Late, glorious Ford. Wayne, the Old West, and Stewart, the New West, vie for Miles’s hand. Hovering over everything is Marvin’s superb Valance, a first rate thug to-end-all-thugs. Wayne, however, towers over all and reigns supreme not only as a hero, but as a desperate man who suddenly finds that the world has passed him by. Ford, now indoors, no longer has the majestic sweep of the land that so graced his other Westerns but, for all of that, he has crafted a most intense and highly rewarding drama.

This is a great film if for no other reason than the fact that John Ford with his wild interiors was already pointing to his final masterpiece "Seven Women."

8. "She Wore a Yellow Ribbon"

(Dir: John Ford; Starring: John Wayne, Joanne Dru, John Agar, Ben Johnson).

The greatest of all cavalry movies. Wayne is an old and grizzled veteran who must lead his men on one last dangerous patrol through hostile Indian territory. Ford brings his “A”-eye to the glorious landscape and Wayne is typically fine. Dru and Agar are the young lovers. The depiction of post-Civil War Cavalry life is fascinating with rifted brevet officers, once commanding hundreds of Civil War volunteer troops, now reduced in rank to Sergeants and Corporals. One ex-Confederate General has even joined up the new, smaller, U.S. Army as a private! Great fun.

9. "Rio Bravo"

(Dir: Howard Hawks; starring John Wayne, Angie Dickinson, Dean Martin and Walter Brennan).

The best of the late Hawks/Wayne Western combine which would yield box office hit after box office hit. Wayne, a drunken Martin, and a grizzled Brennan hold a killer for trial against various attempts to free him. A youthful Dickinson is Wayne’s love interest and she is glorious! She is the Helen of whom Marlowe wrote:

“Was this the face that launched a thousand ships,
And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?”

Marlowe, The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus

10. "Stagecoach"

(Dir: John Ford; starring John Wayne).

Ford’s first iconic Western with Wayne making his first real impression as a star. A stagecoach, filled with colorful passengers, finds itself under Indian attack. Thrilling but only a hint of what was to come with the Ford/Wayne combo).

]]> http://popcornmafia.wordpress.com/?p=20 Mon, 16 Jun 2008 05:51:47 +0000 popcornmafia http://popcornmafia.wordpress.com/?p=20 Amalia Levari, master Mitten Knitter and Director of Operations at the Cinefamily jumps into this weeks podcast recorded on location at the Silent Movie Theater. Once Gariana wraps up her entirely too long apology to Shia LeBeouf and relives her wicked embarrassing encounter with Jason Reitman, we get a chance to speak frankly about Kung Fu Panda and Mongol. Listen to hear Amalia's unorthodox method for watching violence in films, as well as her groundbreaking pronunciation of Keanu Reeves name.

The Ambassadors of Hilarity also get a little tied up in discussing the craziest things they have seen while riding the bus, but still manage to squeeze out some coherent thoughts on Choke and Space Chimps. The weeks DVD releases provide interesting fodder as well, and Grae gets to spew some hatred at Jumper. At least its out of her system.  Keeping it inside only makes her soul more...well, more like Gariana's.

Click Here to Listen!

HIGH NOON (2-Disc Ultimate Collector's Edition)

One of the greatest Westerns ever made gets the deluxe treatment on this superior disc from Republic Home Video's Silver Screen Classics line of special-edition DVDs. Written by Carl Foreman (who was later blacklisted during the anticommunist hearings of the '50s) and superbly directed by Fred Zinnemann, this 1952 classic stars Gary Cooper as just-married lawman Will Kane, who is about to retire as a small-town sheriff and begin a new life with his bride (Grace Kelly) when he learns that gunslinger Frank Miller (Ian MacDonald) is due to arrive at high noon to settle an old score. Kane seeks assistance from deputies and townsfolk, but soon realizes he'll have to stand alone in his showdown with Miller and his henchmen. Innovative for its time, the suspenseful story unfolds in approximate real time (from 10:40 a.m. to high noon in an 84-minute film), and many interpreted Foreman's drama as an allegorical reflection of apathy and passive acceptance of Senator Joseph McCarthy's anticommunist campaign. Political underpinnings aside, this remains a milestone of its genre (often referred to as the first "adult" Western), and Cooper is flawless in his Oscar-winning role. The first-rate DVD gives this landmark film all the respect it deserves, beginning with a digitally remastered transfer from the original film negative. Additional features include the exclusive documentary The Making of High Noon, hosted by film historian Leonard Maltin and featuring interviews with the late Lloyd Bridges (who played Cooper's rival ex-deputy), director Fred Zinnemann, and producer Stanley Kramer. Also included is the original theatrical trailer and a special chapter stop highlighting the Oscar-winning song "Do Not Forsake Me."

Here's the intro:

I said draw....

It turns out that they're both in the same business.

Newspapers and local TV news stations.

They both go out into the community, find stories, process them and then distribute them back to the community, charging for the ads that accompany them.

For a long time, their paths barely crossed.

I say barely because TV stations generally started their day by opening the local paper to find out what stories to cover. But beyond that, not much.

All that is over.

All that is over because of the web.

Both papers and local TV news are gravitating to the web as a platform of distribution. And why not? For papers it means getting rid of presses, ink, printers, paper and all the costs associated with distribution.  And it puts you in every home on the planet all the time pretty much for free. Kind of irresistable.

Ten years ago, it became clear that you could 'publish' a paper on the web.  Around the same time, sites like Craigslist began to strip out classifieds.  J-date began to strip out personals.  Later places like Huffington began to strip out editorials!  Papers were in the fight of their lives and they started to come to grips with it.

TV was smug. They never imagined that the web could one day carry TV shows and TV news.

Wrong.

Happened yesterday.

So papers have a lead, in a way, in terms of dealing with this. And one of the ways that they are learning to deal with this is to incorporate video in their reporting. And why not? It's not hard to do. It's pretty compelling.  And when the web carries video (as it does) any local newsgatherer would be remiss not carry video. So they're moving there.

As they do, they suddenly find that they are fast becoming head-to-head competitors with local TV news.

Because now, local TV is just starting to come to grips with the web as a better platform for distribution as well. Infinite homes, 24.7, no cable, no transmission towers, VOD all the time. Non linear. It works.

And as both papers and TV move to the web, they begin to find themselves running into each other. In terms of stories. In terms of content. And in terms of advertisers.

In the end, probably only one will survive.

But which one?

Newspapers have some advantages: they are leaner and far better newsgathering machines.  They put more reporters on the streets every day.  They are better at making volume. Take a local TV newscast and print it out and you probably have a page and a half in the paper.  The web demands reams of content, updated all the time.

Newspapers have some disadvantages:  They are still married to the presses and the ink and the delivery vans.  And they have to learn video.

But TV stations also have their own mixed bag. They know how to make video, but they do it in a very expensive and cost-ineffective way. Can they change?  Unknown.  Also, TV stations, as they migrate to the web will have to put many more reporters on the streets to compete with the local papers. Can they do it? Unknown. Finally, as they move to the web, local TV stations will have to provide reams of text, as the web does both text and video. Do they have the writing skills?  Not yet.

It's gonna be a hard fought battle. Newspapers are not about roll over and die so fast. They have a pretty long tradition in this country. And there is a lot at stake - local news is always a money maker, and the local stories and the local advertisers are aplenty, with money to spend.

I would not count the papers out yet. As Gary Cooper says:

'You'll never hang me. I'll come back. I'll kill you, Will Kane. I swear it, I'll kill you.'

Na crônica que abre seu livro Banquete com os Deuses, Luis Fernando Verissimo descreve os personagens de Meu Ódio Será sua Herança, de Sam Peckinpah, como “protagonistas conscientes da derrocada”, referindo-se ao fim do período de expansão e colonização do território da América do Norte. Sob a ótica de Peckinpah, chegara o momento de a aventura terminar, e o acerto de contas começar. Tudo isso é verdade, mas dezessete anos antes do lançamento de Meu Ódio Será sua Herança, um outro filme já tratara, e muito bem, do fim da “mentalidade do Velho Oeste” e das conseqüências de tal mudança.

O filme em questão é Matar ou Morrer (High Noon, 1952), dirigido por Fred Zinnemann. Gary Cooper interpreta o xerife Will Kane, e tudo se passa no dia de seu casamento com a bela Amy (uma jovem Grace Kelly, apenas em seu segundo papel no cinema), após o que ele deveria abdicar do posto de xerife e dedicar-se à tranqüila vida familiar, administrando um armazém. Os planos mudam quando chega à cidade a notícia de que um assassino preso por Kane cinco anos atrás foi libertado, e se dirige à cidade. Ele deve chegar a bordo do trem do meio-dia. Frente aos sentimentos conflitantes da população, ao desamparo por parte de seus antigos colaboradores e, especialmente, às súplicas de sua esposa, o xerife enfrenta um dilema praticamente sem solução.

Esse é o pano de fundo que Zinnemann utiliza para desenhar um painel do fim anunciado da época das conquistas. Aqui os personagens são protagonistas inconscientes de seu próprio papel. Will Kane representa o desbravador, o precursor, o próprio espírito da colonização. Não por acaso ele está velho e prestes a se aposentar. Seu adversário, Frank Miller, não é um dos tradicionais vilões do velho oeste, cujo único fim era a morte, em combate ou na forca. Ele foi preso, julgado, sentenciado a passar a vida na cadeia, e então libertado. Não se sabe porque ele foi solto, nem o filme se presta a dar um motivo concreto. Só se sabe que, em algum lugar longe dali, uma espécie diferente de justiça se fez, e essa justiça colocou em liberdade um homem cuja primeira atitude é juntar-se aos seus capangas e buscar vingança.

É nos personagens secundários, habitantes da cidade, entretanto, que se encontra a parte mais interessante da metáfora elaborada aqui. Observando com atenção, percebe-se que neles a coragem foi substituída por precaução e o espírito aventureiro deu lugar ao desejo de estabilidade. Por mais que se envergonhem disso, os homens do povoado não reúnem em si a força para ajudar o xerife, entregando-o ao que todos consideram sua morte certa – ou seu suicídio, como descrevem alguns, o que seria uma forma de eximir-se da culpa por manter os braços cruzados. Um dos moradores chega a dizer (em outras palavras): “Nós pagamos um bom salário ao xerife e seu ajudante. Eles que resolvam”. A função do novo cidadão urbano, seria, portanto, a de pagar seus impostos e esperar que os problemas desapareçam. Nada mais de iniciativa, nada de participação direta. Eles que resolvam.

A ganância também aparece aqui modificada pela nova ordem. Não são mais terras ou gado que interessam, os desejos da população da cidade são mais, digamos, atuais. O hoteleiro diz não gostar do xerife pois antes da chegada da lei e da ordem havia mais movimento em seu hotel. Eis uma boa crítica ao capitalismo selvagem, ao qual não importa que todos se matem, contanto que isso traga lucros. Já o assistente do xerife recusa-se a ajudá-lo por não ter sido indicado para substituí-lo (um novo xerife chegaria à cidade no dia seguinte). Nesse caso a cobiça é pelo cargo, e aqui, melhor do que em qualquer outro ponto, percebe-se que os tempos não são mais de força e coragem, mas de política e barganha. Eis que, como resultado de tudo isso, Will Kane é abandonado.

Para que não se diga que os aspectos artísticos da obra não foram citados, vale lembrar que tanto a trilha sonora quanto a música tema cabem perfeitamente no filme, colaborando bastante para criar a atmosfera de conflito interno do protagonista. Gary Cooper oferece uma atuação na medida certa, sem exageros, mas que passa ao espectador a angústia de encontrar-se na situação em que se encontra.

Há ainda algo de revigorante no papel da mulher em Matar ou Morrer. Também aqui se poderia dizer que o filme é precursor, mas seria difícil fazê-lo sem explicitar demasiadamente a conclusão da estória. O mais importante é que a cena final representa o ocaso de uma era. É verdade que a colonização não termina com o desfecho do personagem de Gary Cooper. Seu fim, porém, havia sido anunciado. O tempo de coragem, da marcha ao desconhecido, da vida e da morte pela força e pelas armas estava agonizando. A aventura do velho oeste chegava ao fim.

3/4

Marcelo Dillenburg

Gary Cooper (1901 - 1961) Nació en un rancho de Montana, el 7 de mayo de 1901, su verdadero nombre era Frank James Cooper. Durante su juventud iba para dibujante caricaturista cuando por pura casualidad entró en el mundo del cine. Hizo unas pruebas y logró conseguir pequeños papeles de extra en westerns.

No alcanzaría un personaje de importancia hasta su aparición en "The Winning of Barbara Worth" (1926).

Su modo de andar era muy peculiar, una secuela de un accidente automovilístico le obligaba a ello. Tras el accidente los médicos le recomendaron para su recuperación que montase a caballo. De esta manera Gary Cooper se convirtió en un consumado jinete, algo que le vendría muy bien años más tarde para la realización de westerns memorables como: El Virginiano, Buffalo Bill, El Forastero, El Caballero del Oeste, El árbol del ahorcado, Veracruz, o la obra maestra del genero Solo ante el peligro

Obtuvo tres Oscar de la Academia de Artes y Ciencias cinematográficas de Hollywood.

• En 1941 por su actuación en Sargento York.
• En 1952 por la película Solo ante el peligro,
• El tercero en 1960, de carácter honorífico, por sus muchas y memorables interpretaciones y por su aportación a la industria del cine.

Fue nominado en otras tres ocasiones:

• En 1936, por El secreto de vivir
• En 1942, por El orgullo de los Yankis
• En 1943, por Por quién doblan las campanas basado en el libro homónimo de Ernest Hemingway.

Un letal cáncer de pulmón que padecía en silencio y que lo había aventajado mucho en el período final de su trayectoria lo llevó a la muerte el 13 de mayo de 1961.

Today I visited the Vanity Fair Portraits exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery, a fascinating collection of photographs ranging firstly from the 1910s-30s and then from the 1980s to the present day. 

The magazine folded in 1936 only to be revived in 1983 but began remarkably early. In 1913 Condé Nast brought out the first issue of what was then known as Dress and Vanity Fair and those early issues published portraits of personalities such as a young Irving Berlin and an old Thomas Hardy.

Through to the twenties images of movie stars become a staple of the Hollywood magazine: Fred and Adele Astaire, Joan Crawford, Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., W.C. Fields, Garbo, Lillian and Dorothy Gish, Gloria Swanson, Charlie Chaplin, Fairbanks & Pickford, Gary Cooper, Cary Grant, Katherine Hepburn, Paul Robeson, Charles Laughton and Peter Lorre.

It also published portraits of writers: H.G. Wells, George Bernard Shaw, Virginia Woolf, Ernest Hemingway and James Joyce, as well as dancers, composers, scientists and high-profile directors: Nureyev & Pavlova, Stravinsky, Einstein & Eisenstein, and Ernst Lubitsch. 

Vanity Fair, then, became a great portrait of the age during which it was published. Three parts fan, fashion and Hollywood magazine it both revelled in and further circulated the image of Hollywood and its stars as perfect and ethereal.

However these photographs seem to do two things at once: on the one hand provide a stylised image of its subject, and on the other capture a candid, revealing portrait of them. The formal composition, pose and lighting creates a barrier between the image and the viewer while the connection with its subject pulls that barrier back down.

Photographers of the original Vanity Fair included Baron de Meyer and the versatile Edward Steichen, who took the enigmatic and powerful shot of a veiled Gloria Swanson (above). The revived Vanity Fair included such famed photographers as Herb Ritts and Annie Liebowitz, and during the past 25 years has continued to publish many of the iconic photographs of movie stars during that recent era.

The exhibition continues until 26 May 2008 so if you happen to be in town, make sure you take a look. Below is a snap I took on exiting: Jean Harlow looking over London.

Imagine Steve's excitement the entire RedBridge facility will one day be the Simeon Company's! The reporter was either prophetic or a bit sloppy with his note taking. Never the less Steve's vision is expanding.

Ah, les films de Gary Cooper... Je les ai découvert il y a quelques années, un peu à la même époque où je me suis découvert une passion pour l'oeuvre de Hemingway (qui, je l'ai appris bien plus tard, était un ami intime de Gary Cooper).

Un film de Gary Cooper, ce n'est pas une banale aventure comme un Errol Flynn ou un John Wayne. L'intensité se ressent, mais ne s'affiche pas. La morale suinte, la conscience se laisse deviner; les valeurs ne sont pas livrées en vrac ni emballées dans un cynisme de pacotille. Comme dans un roman de Hemingway, tout se trouve dans le non-dit, dans l'implicite, dans le présumé.

Je pense que si un jour je rencontre une fille qui comprend les films de Gary Cooper (ou l'oeuvre de Hemingway, ou l'oeuvre de Carver) je l'épouserai. (Odeur discrète et enivrante un atout).

Comment résumer cette sensation trouble que me laisse un film de Gary Cooper? Peut-être en citant le plus court roman de son ami Hemingway; une oeuvre intégrale de six mots, que le génie a déclaré être son oeuvre la plus achevée...

For sale: baby shoes, never worn.

Gli incontri fatti, le esperienze vissute, perfino i piccoli aneddoti e le abitudini personali servono a completare il quadro, soprattutto quando si è in presenza di una personalità complessa.

E’ il motivo questo, che rende interessanti ed utili le biografie dei grandi scrittori.

Se poi la biografia è ricchissima, oltre che di annotazioni sulla vita dello scrittore, anche di fotografie che illustrano i diversi episodi della sua vita, la lettura diventa, oltre che utile e interessante, anche molto divertente.

Utile, interessante, divertente: tutti e tre gli aggettivi si adattano pienamente ad “Album Hemingway” ( Oscar Mondadori 2007).

Azzeccato il titolo.

“Album Hemingway” non è una biografia con fotografie, è esattamente il contrario: è un album fotografico con delle annotazioni biografiche.

La parte scritta del volume è opera di uno studioso di alto livello come Masolino d’Amico. Le foto sono numerosissime: vediamo la casa natale di Hemingway di Oak Park, vicino a Chicago, i genitori dello scrittore ( lui alto e bello con una grande barba nera, molto simile al figlio, lei massiccia e con un’espressione autoritaria) il piccolo Ernest con la sorellina ( entrambi vestiti come bambine per un capriccio materno) .

Insomma, se amate Hemingway e volete fare una full immersion nella sua vita pubblica e privata, questo libretto pieno di bellissime fotografie ( alcune son addirittura del mitico Robert Capa) è sicuramente il modo più divertente e meno impegnativo per farlo.

Il testo completo dell'articolo è ne

IL MESTIERE DI LEGGERE

Gli incontri fatti, le esperienze vissute, perfino i piccoli aneddoti e le abitudini personali servono a completare il quadro, soprattutto quando si è in presenza di una personalità complessa.

E' il motivo questo, che rende interessanti ed utili le biografie dei grandi scrittori.

Se poi la biografia è ricchissima, oltre che di annotazioni sulla vita dello scrittore, anche di fotografie che illustrano i diversi episodi della sua vita, la lettura diventa, oltre che utile e interessante, anche molto divertente.

Utile, interessante, divertente: tutti e tre gli aggettivi si adattano pienamente ad "Album Hemingway" ( Oscar Mondadori 2007).

Azzeccato il titolo.

"Album Hemingway" non è una biografia con fotografie, è esattamente il contrario: è un album fotografico con delle annotazioni biografiche.

La parte scritta del volume è opera di uno studioso di alto livello come Masolino d'Amico. Le foto sono numerosissime: vediamo la casa natale di Hemingway di Oak Park, vicino a Chicago, i genitori dello scrittore ( lui alto e bello con una grande barba nera, molto simile al figlio, lei massiccia e con un'espressione autoritaria) il piccolo Ernest con la sorellina ( entrambi vestiti come bambine per un capriccio materno) .

Vediamo Ernest tra i compagni della squadra di baseball della scuola superiore, tra i portantini della Croce Rossa sul fronte italiano durante la prima guerra mondiale, vediamo la sua casa di Parigi negli anni 20, quella di Kay West in Florida negli anni 30, per arrivare alla mitica Finca Vigia all'Avana, nella quale trascorse la maggior parte degli ultimi anni della sua vita.

Confrontiamo tra loro le fisionomie delle sue quattro mogli. Le prime due si assomigliano tra loro ( brune, viso dolce, espressione protettiva, da ragazza della porta accanto) così come sembra che si assomiglino tra loro le ultime due ( entrambe giornaliste e scrittrici, bionde, sofisticate, algide) come se lo scrittore nel corso della sua vita avesse coltivato due ideali diversi di bellezza femminile.

Insomma il libro è un appassionante tuffo nella vita di un uomo che sin dagli anni della gioventù fu sempre al centro dell'attenzione, braccato ovunque da fotografi e giornalisti decisi a esaltarne o a smitizzarne la leggenda.

Il libro è ricchissimo anche di particolari.

Alcuni ci confermano quello che sapevamo già, come quelli che riguardano la dipsomania dello scrittore la sua passione per la boxe .

"Di regola Hemingway cominciava a bere non appena sveglio- e spesso si alzava alle quattro e mezzo del mattino- continuando fino alla cena. Beveva vino ai pasti e liquori durante il giorno, anche due o tre bottiglie di whisky o di brandy" .

"Era in grado di offrire cento dollari a chiunque degli indigeni di Bimini fosse in grado di resistergli per tre riprese con i guantoni da sei once"

Ma emergono anche particolari nuovi come "l'indifferenza di Hemingway nelle questioni riguardanti la sua pulizia personale" ( che la terza moglie Martha Gellhorne avrebbe stigmatizzato in un libro successivo al divorzio).

Divertente è, tra i tanti aneddoti, quello riguardante l'amicizia tra lo scrittore e Gary Cooper.

Hemingway sperava che l'attore potesse essere il protagonista ( come poi in effetti accadde) del film che stava per essere ricavato dal suo romanzo sulla guerra di Spagna "Per chi suona la campana".

Lo invitò così a trascorrere alcuni giorni nella sua casa di Sun Valley. Apprendiamo dal libro che durante quel periodo la moglie di Hemingway tormentò il marito, famoso per la sua trasandatezza nel vestire, additantondogli come modello di eleganza e di stile il famoso attore.

Apprendiamo anche che i due uomini in quel periodo andarono a caccia quasi tutti i giorni e che l'attore sparava molto meglio di Hemigway con grande disappunto di quest'ultimo che attribuiva i suoi difetti all'età (aveva allora appena 41 anni!) e agli eccessi nel bere.

Insomma, se amate Hemingway e volete fare una full immersion nella sua vita pubblica e privata, questo libretto pieno di bellissime fotografie ( alcune son addirittura del mitico Robert Capa) è sicuramente il modo più divertente e meno impegnativo per farlo.

Teresita era una prima del Duende bastante más que adorable. En la pandilla había varios que habían llegado a esta misma conclusión. Su risa blanca y compacta como la del cuarzo, y el puntito de gracia en el habla que aún le quedaba de su Jerez natal alegraban lo mejor del verano. El resto lo ponían la fiebre de la primera juventud, el Dúo Dinámico, Adamo, Pat Boone y Ricky Nelson sonando en el pikú, algo de sangría, un cuerno de la luna arrastrando el telón de la noche y la emoción sin igual del estar de vacaciones y de que, agotados los vinilos, aún quedaba el canto de los grillos y de los alacranes cebolleros. Si Teresa rondaba cerca, no había mayor felicidad que tumbarse en el pasto seco -en los veraneos de la España interior de entonces apenas había césped- y esperar a las estrellas fugaces para desear aún más cercanía. Las debilidades humanas. Una pena que aquella criatura llena de encantos tuviera un defecto: estar enamorada de Charlton Heston.

Los años no fueron generosos con este galán desaparecido que arrasó en España. En la década de los sesenta. Charlton parecía hecho a placas, como el Guggenheim o como las esculturas de Amadeo Gabino, y fue magnífico mientras la edad respetó su cuerpo de atleta. En realidad no se sabía si era un hombre, el caballo de Troya en acero, o uno de esos monumentos al trabajo que entonces erigían los países del este. A las niñas les impresionaban sus ojos y su sonrisa limpísima, a los chicos nos acomplejaban sus pectorales, sus bíceps y su mandíbula, que en cualquier momento podría triturar incluso la Sierra de Guadarrama. Había otros galanes más elegantes, como Gary Cooper, Gregory Peck o incluso Paul Newman, que ya empezaba a provocar desmayos. Pero a diferencia de aquellos, que no rodaron en España, Charlton Heston había sido sorprendido paseando por los alrededores del Hotel Castellana Hilton de Madrid cuando vino hacer El Cid. O sea, que era carne mortal, lo cual excitaba más a las fans. Quizás por ello la prima Teresa lo proclamó patrimonio de la humanidad, aunque la humanidad fueran sólo las chiquillas que veraneaban en Arenas de san Pedro. Luego pasó lo que pasó: la misma noche que Charlton Heston acababa de morir, ardieron muchas hectáreas de pinar en la noble villa abulense. Una plaga tan bíblica como los grandes éxitos del ídolo definitivamente caído.

La última vez que lo vio el Duende en el cine fue en Bowling for Columbine, de Michael Moore, un muy premiado documental sobre la paranoia de las armas en Estados Unidos. Su secuencia más celebrada era una entrevista con el viejo héroe, convertido ahora en el estandarte de los que defienden el derecho a tener armas para la defensa personal. Al Duende la postura Heston le pareció tan disparatada como cruel el acoso de Michael Moore. El audaz director ya no se enfrentaba a un héroe enloquecido, sino a un anciano con claros síntomas de Alzheimer. Qué falta de respeto con Moisés, con Ben Hur, con el Cid y con la prima Teresa. El Duende le hubiera pedido disculpas.

Y, de paso, le hubiera preguntado si á él también se le rozaban los cuellos de las camisas con la misma facilidad que al menda. Que uno puede no ser ni la mitad de macho que lo era el difunto Charlton. Pero, aún sin  ese cogote  de coloso que envidiaba el pérfido Mesala  en su cuadriga tuneada para derrotar a Ben Hur, de verdad que no es normal la cantidad de camisas que desecha por culpa de unos cuellos que se deshilachan a las primeras de cambio. Un engaño, otra cosa más de espaldas alpueblo. Como el delirio armamentista que, a la vejez viruelas, emborronó la gloria del héroe de la prima Teresa.

"A LUMINOUS AFTERNOON in the black-and-white forest. The monster, played by Boris Karloff, pauses as he hears the sweet notes of a violin. His face lights, he lumbers through the woods, following the sound. He comes to a cosy cottage among the trees, very gingerbread. Inside, the violin is being played by a blind hermit, who is being played by O.P. Heggie. The monster approaches, and pounds on the door."

~ from Jimmy the Kid, by Donald E. Westlake.

Well, since we just had Otto Preminger Week, seems like a good idea to name-check that other O.P., surname Heggie.

(Actually, Westlake conflates two scenes: the daylight forest above, and the hermit encounter which happens at dusk.)

The parody of the blind hermit scene in YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN, with an exuberant Gene Hackman in the Heggie role, is so very fine it almost ruins the original. But Mel Brooks clearly loves the James Whale movies he's satirising, so there's no real damage done. It may be a difficulty of the parody genre -- if the filmmaker doesn't love what s/he's mocking, the spoof rarely hits the right notes. If they do love it, the parody won't have bite. In Brooks' case he's not out to destroy the original, he's just riffing on it, and so we end up with a pleasing comedy version of '30s Universal horror, rather than any kind of deconstruction of it. Whereas BLAZING SADDLES attacks the ailing western the way Gary Cooper attacks Jack Lord in MAN OF THE WEST, not only delivering a punitive beating, but tearing the pants off it as well.

Along with the main illustrations, are tinier ones with little factual trivia blurbs. For instance, did you know that Joan Blondell's diet consisted for skimmed milk and potatoes for a period of three days at a time (The carbs! The carbs!)? Or that Joel McCrea was one of the only actors never to use any sort of stage makeup? It might also interest you to know that Victor McLaglen cooked all the meals when he went camping and that the divine Tallulah Bankhead was an avid oil painter. Like the publicity packages of the time, I'm not sure how many of these "facts" are true, but they're sure fun to read.

Click images for larger versions:

Tallulah Bankhead, John Barrymore, Lionel Barrymore, Wallace Beery:

Constance Bennett, Joan Bennett, Joan Blondell, Claudette Colbert

Ronald Colman, Gary Cooper, Marlene Dietrich, Jimmy Durante

Douglas Fairbanks Jr, Katharine Hepburn, Joel McCrea, Victor McLaglen

Also to go with yesterday's penny-pinching post (say that three times fast), I forgot to link to this site that features old Montana Bar and Restaurant Menus. See how much a toasted sandwich and french fries would cost at the Coffee Cup Cafe or if you're in the mood for drink, perhaps the drink list at The Club would be more to your liking. Only $.35 for a Daiquiri? I'm there!

However, I've always wondered what their source was. In the 1933 shots, there are numbers at the bottom of each page, so I'm assuming they're from a book the studios sent out. Was this something available to the public? It doesn't seem to be from a specific studio, but a grouping of them. You have Clark Gable (MGM) with Claudette Colbert (Paramount). I have to say though, a lot of the shots are gorgeous--especially the Gary Cooper and Barbara Stanwyck ones (or maybe my love for Ball of Fire is showing!) If anyone has any information or knows what these are from, please let me know. They're really gorgeous pictures though and the little biographical blurbs are fun to read as well. I'm also thinking that this is a book from the UK, since one of the Cagney stills says it's from the movie Enemies of the Public, which was the UK title for The Public Enemy.

Also, I get a kick out of Greta Garbo's little blurb: "Someday someone will find the real woman in her and she will cease to be Greta Garbo, film star. She will become, perhaps, Mrs. Somebody, housewife." Yeah, right.

The 1930 shots of Gary Cooper and Joan Crawford are from their publicity packages. I doubt they wrote their own bios, although if I were alive at the time, I probably would have thought they did. I'm that naive.

Next week, part 2--but for now, Enjoy!

The 20's - Norma Shearer (1925 & 1929)

1930 - Gary Cooper and Joan Crawford

1933: Claudette Colbert, Gary Cooper 1 & 2, Joan Crawford

1933: Jimmy Durante & Buster Keaton, Clark Gable, Greta Garbo, Leslie Howard & Mary Pickford

1933: Fredric March, Laurence Olivier, George Raft, Barbara Stanwyck

1933 Movie Stills:

From left to right:
Picture 1 - James Cagney, Cimmaron, Ann Harding, Lee Tracy
Picture 2 - Cagney & Blondell, Joel McCrea & Fay Wray
Picture 3 - Cagney in Enemies of the Public
Picture 4 - Gary Cooper and Joel McCrea

To get into the spirit for tonight's pre-code marathon on TCM, I thought I would discuss one of my favorite movie from that era, Ernst Lubitsch's Design For Living (1933). I admit that I don't know much about pre-code films or their history, but I do know a great film when I see one. And not only is Design For Living great, but it's incredibly sexy and fun as well. It's risque plot begs the question: is it possible for two men to share a woman and live happily ever after? While the idea of a menage a trois is common knowledge by today's standards, it had to be a shocking topic for 1933!

The plot centers around two friends, playwright Tom (Fredric March) and painter George (Gary Cooper) who meet a free-spirited commercial artist, Gilda (Miriam Hopkins) on a train. Naturally, both men fall in love with Gilda and unbeknownst to each other, are having a physical relationship with her. Instead of choosing one, Gilda decides that the best solution is to forget about sex. Yeah, like that's going to happen. Instead, Gilda has separate dalliances with both George and Tom and when she sees that she's tearing their friendship apart, she runs off and marries her humorless boss, Max Plunkett (Edward Everett Horton). Soon, Gilda finds herself in an unhappy situation, surrounded by Plunkett's boring, snooty friends while forced to play silly dinner games and sing even siller songs. It's then up to Tom and George to rescue her from the boredom of Plunkett's home.

While the "Lubitsch Touch" may not be for everyone, it's precisely what makes Design For Living so fantastic. It's a light, sophisticated sex farce that never crosses the line into smut. And while there are serious turns in the plot, they mostly revolve around the emotions of Tom, George and Gilda--never are they made to feel guilty for enjoying sex. It's who they're enjoying it with that's the problem. But what makes Design For Living truly beautiful is that the main characters are friends first, and romantically involved second (a very close second, I might add). It's clear from their banter on the train that they enjoy each other's company. And when Gilda tells the boys to forget about sex, she turns it into something positive by critiquing their work instead and turning them into successes. Of course, none of the parties involved can go without physical comforts for long, but isn't that what makes the movie so much fun?

Both Fredric March and Gary Cooper are perfect in their roles. Not only do they have amazing chemistry with Hopkins, but they play off each other beautifully as well. The comic banter between them is easy and light and you understand why their friendship has endured for eleven years. It's also interesting to note that in the original Noel Coward scripted play, it was hinted that Tom and George were bisexual. Even though the Hays Code was lax, the powers that be insisted that Design For Living be cleaned up for the screen version. Hollywood wasn't that liberated. Enter screenwriter Ben Hecht, who wound up rewriting all the dialogue except for one line ("For the good of our immortal souls!"), while keeping the plot the same. All traces of bisexuality between Tom and George were written out--or was it? In the scene where George finds out that Tom and Gilda have spent the night together, he angrily tells them, "It's hard to believe I loved you both!" While the line was meant to express a platonic love between Tom and George, I'm sure some people were thinking along the lines of the original Broadway version. I know I was (but that's mostly because I have a filthy mind). After all, Tom and George lived together before Gilda came along and after Gilda leaves them, they go off to China together. March and Cooper are not affectionate towards each other, but it's hard not to think that there was something more to their characters, especially in such a sexually charged movie. I'm sure if Design For Living was re-made today (Heaven forbid), the writers would throw in some sexual tension and jealousy between Tom and George based on their previous, pre-Gilda relationship.

The character of Max Plunkett is Design For Living's authority figure and the exact kind of attitude that the saucier pre-code movies thumbed their nose at. He's awfully fond of the phrase, "Immorality may be fun, but it isn't fun enough to take the place of one hundred percent virtue and three square meals a day!" which describes the kind of guy he is. Yawn. Played by Edward Everett Horton (one of my favorite character actors from the 30's), Plunkett is the kind of guy who thinks after dinner games of 20 Questions and "Animal, Vegetable or Mineral?" are a good time. He's the symbol of stodgy monotony, while Tom, George and Gilda represent a more carefree attitude. Plunkett is obsessed with work and while the three want to be successful in life, it shouldn't come at the loss of their happiness.

I know it's said that Horton was gay in real life, but I never got that kind of over-the-top flamboyancy from him, like I did with Franklin Pangborn. In so many movies, Horton was constantly married to women, who like him, had a sense of asexuality. You could never imagine them having sex--maybe the most you'd see is a chaste kiss, but that's about it. Horton's asexuality is what makes Plunkett so great--despite his love for Gilda, you could never, ever imagine him satisfying her like Tom or George could, nor could you imagine Gilda getting all worked up over him. Even his attempts at shopping for a bed are dull--Plunkett pulls out a tape measure to see the width of the bed, before measuring each of their shoulders! Horton puts in a fine dramatic performance here, especially in the post-marriage bedroom scene where he kicks the tulips after having a passionless wedding night.

But what really makes the movie is the character of Gilda (pronounced Jil-da). Miriam Hopkins shines in the role, bringing to life a complex woman who is not only comfortable with her sexuality, but places Tom and George's friendship above her own happiness. The last thing she wants is for them to hate each other. Throughout the film, Gilda tries many different things in order to restore peace between Tom and George: she becomes "den mother" to their pursuits and then marries Plunkett so that neither man can have her. But in the end, Gilda cannot deny her true happiness anymore and neither can Tom or George. They need her as much as she needs them, jealousy be damned.

Hopkins runs a gamut of emotions throughout the film: she's flirty and coy, but serious and passionate when she needs to be. It would be hard to like Gilda if Hopkins played her as a stupid, shallow and coarse girl, but she doesn't. If anything, Gilda is a revelation--she's a sexually liberated woman in the 1930's, an idea that wouldn't be popular until almost 40 years later. Gilda only wants to bring out the best in both of her men. She's not desperately seeking approval from Tom or George and isn't afraid tear down their egos and criticize their work ("Rotten!"). But she's willing to succumb to passion when the time is right. Gilda wears her emotions on her sleeve. In one scene, she tells Tom that he haunted her "like a nasty ghost" and that "on rainy nights, I could hear you moanin' down the chimney." She's open and honest. There's no false pretenses with her and not only is it refreshing to see, but it's fun to watch. It makes you root for Gilda and hope that she gets both her men at the end of the story. These characters are too nice and too much fun to be left broken hearted at the end.

Design For Living also has it's share of extremely sensual moments, which are sprinkled through the film. The innuendo is hard to miss. For example, take the scene where George and Gilda are alone together in their apartment. After pacing back and forth a few times, George grabs Gilda, proclaims his love and kisses her. In return, Gilda walks over to the dusty couch, lazily stretches the length of her body across it and purrs, "It's true we had a gentleman's agreement--but unfortunately, I am no gentleman." The scene fades to black. It leaves th