Wednesday, April 22, 2009
When I Get Back
I am really hoping to upload some photos from my own collection soon. This business of posting things that are already out in the internets is hardly optimal if I want anyone to read this blog. The other thing I would like to do is increase my web savviness by a smidgen. If anybody out there has some tips on where to find a good tutorial that will, say, show you how to make a word in a paragraph a highlighted link that also changes color once you've clicked on it (is that what you call it?) please let me know! All this, of course, will be much more easily done once I return from my brief exile from LA.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Award Deux
I have nothing to write at the moment that is particularly insightful or provocative, so that means we're due for round two of Awards for Random Things. Once again, the fur collars have it!
Thank you google image search! When I make my epic movie about set in the late 1920's or early 30's, the one on the left will be a star, based solely on pelt count.
Well, time to go get sauced at a local bar on a week night with two of my favorite twenty-first century women.
Thank you google image search! When I make my epic movie about set in the late 1920's or early 30's, the one on the left will be a star, based solely on pelt count.Well, time to go get sauced at a local bar on a week night with two of my favorite twenty-first century women.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Haha, Blackface.
Today, I'm again playing that constant game of catch-up. It's been over a week since I blogged. Here now are, as promised, my thoughts on Check and Double Check, the Hammer/UCLA blackface offering from over a week ago.
Check and Double Check is an Amos n Andy movie, the only one, starring the radio performers who created the duo, Charles Correll and Freeman Gosdon. (the picture above is from the TV show) It's up to you to look it up since I don't want to waste space laying out the plot. In attendance was Correll's son, Richard, who unbeknownst to me (I'm ashamed) is a successful TV director and writer in his own right. Ever hear about this thing called Hannah Montana? He invented it. Seriously. Anyway, he got up and talked about his father, his father's partner in crime for thirty years and about the film.
Refreshingly, Correll made no apologies for the film. He shouldn't, but he's also a rare brave soul not to take the audience's hand in his and talk to them like a ten year old. An audience of adults at the Hammer Museum in Westwood, California, doesn't need to be reminded that the movie we are about to see contains subject matter that some people might find offensive. We are there because we know that already and just want to see the damn movie. Kudos to you, Mr. Correll.
Richard Correll's parting words were something like, "I'll probably be the only one laughing for most of this, but enjoy." The audience's reaction, however, was extremely positive, and the movie holds up really well, thanks in no small part to it having been made well and to surviving in its original form. The jokes are also way less dated than, say, a Marx Brothers movie where they make jokes about Abie's Irish Rose.
I'm going to go out on a limb here: This movie is not offensive! Its central characters are uneducated black men played by white men in blackface, but their relationship is complex and plays out with admirable subtlety and humanity. There's an especially moving scene where Amos learns that his own employer, who was like a father to him and Andy, has passed away. His reaction, even in the minstrel-y dialect, is heartfelt and moving.
I will also point out a scene where they have to spend a night in a haunted house. As fearful as they are of houses' alleged ghost, they are still able to work strategize and keep their cool. When somebody's coat tail gets caught in a door, they don't behave any differently than Edgar Kennedy or Laurel and Hardy would. For a 1930's comedy made by white people about black people, that's about as unoffensive as you can get.
One more thing to consider: Charles Correll and Freeman Gosdon were both known to be supportive of equality both in the recording studio and in the real world. A number of black performers, including Hattie McDaniel, go their start on the Amos n' Andy radio show. They were even lauded by the NAACP.
This movie was the first half of a double feature program. At the end of the second feature, a guy sitting near me and my cohorts asked us about Check and Double Check, which he had skipped because he didn't want to see a racist movie. We did our best to assure him, in a polite and round-about way, that he missed a well-made and interesting movie that had a lot more than that to offer than some politically incorrect makeup choices. We did our best to paraphrase what Richard Correll had said, but it didn't seem to change his mind.
As much as I want him to understand us, I can see where he's coming from. We all have our red flags that we can't see past. It's like opening a window for a bird stuck in a house, and all they could do was keep hitting their head on the wall space next to it. Certain accents make me wary of people. Certain word choices make me judge them. And yet I feel like, in America, blackface is one of those things that refuse, at this point, to get past. By its very nature, it has become territory that nobody dare cross into. In the previous night's show He Fell In Love with His Wife, Lydia Yeamans Titus played a brutish, rabble rousing Irish housekeeper, but nobody at that screening seemed to bat an eye. There is something so outrageous, so unnatural and invasive about blackface, that its very appearance cancels out its context. It made me sad that, outside from academic-filled screenings like this one, this sort of film was unlikely to see much appreciation, or at least be given the chance it deserves.
Check and Double Check is an Amos n Andy movie, the only one, starring the radio performers who created the duo, Charles Correll and Freeman Gosdon. (the picture above is from the TV show) It's up to you to look it up since I don't want to waste space laying out the plot. In attendance was Correll's son, Richard, who unbeknownst to me (I'm ashamed) is a successful TV director and writer in his own right. Ever hear about this thing called Hannah Montana? He invented it. Seriously. Anyway, he got up and talked about his father, his father's partner in crime for thirty years and about the film.
Refreshingly, Correll made no apologies for the film. He shouldn't, but he's also a rare brave soul not to take the audience's hand in his and talk to them like a ten year old. An audience of adults at the Hammer Museum in Westwood, California, doesn't need to be reminded that the movie we are about to see contains subject matter that some people might find offensive. We are there because we know that already and just want to see the damn movie. Kudos to you, Mr. Correll.
Richard Correll's parting words were something like, "I'll probably be the only one laughing for most of this, but enjoy." The audience's reaction, however, was extremely positive, and the movie holds up really well, thanks in no small part to it having been made well and to surviving in its original form. The jokes are also way less dated than, say, a Marx Brothers movie where they make jokes about Abie's Irish Rose.
I'm going to go out on a limb here: This movie is not offensive! Its central characters are uneducated black men played by white men in blackface, but their relationship is complex and plays out with admirable subtlety and humanity. There's an especially moving scene where Amos learns that his own employer, who was like a father to him and Andy, has passed away. His reaction, even in the minstrel-y dialect, is heartfelt and moving.
I will also point out a scene where they have to spend a night in a haunted house. As fearful as they are of houses' alleged ghost, they are still able to work strategize and keep their cool. When somebody's coat tail gets caught in a door, they don't behave any differently than Edgar Kennedy or Laurel and Hardy would. For a 1930's comedy made by white people about black people, that's about as unoffensive as you can get.
One more thing to consider: Charles Correll and Freeman Gosdon were both known to be supportive of equality both in the recording studio and in the real world. A number of black performers, including Hattie McDaniel, go their start on the Amos n' Andy radio show. They were even lauded by the NAACP.
This movie was the first half of a double feature program. At the end of the second feature, a guy sitting near me and my cohorts asked us about Check and Double Check, which he had skipped because he didn't want to see a racist movie. We did our best to assure him, in a polite and round-about way, that he missed a well-made and interesting movie that had a lot more than that to offer than some politically incorrect makeup choices. We did our best to paraphrase what Richard Correll had said, but it didn't seem to change his mind.
As much as I want him to understand us, I can see where he's coming from. We all have our red flags that we can't see past. It's like opening a window for a bird stuck in a house, and all they could do was keep hitting their head on the wall space next to it. Certain accents make me wary of people. Certain word choices make me judge them. And yet I feel like, in America, blackface is one of those things that refuse, at this point, to get past. By its very nature, it has become territory that nobody dare cross into. In the previous night's show He Fell In Love with His Wife, Lydia Yeamans Titus played a brutish, rabble rousing Irish housekeeper, but nobody at that screening seemed to bat an eye. There is something so outrageous, so unnatural and invasive about blackface, that its very appearance cancels out its context. It made me sad that, outside from academic-filled screenings like this one, this sort of film was unlikely to see much appreciation, or at least be given the chance it deserves.
Monday, April 6, 2009
More Hammer and Comics
I got a new job. Don't get excited, it's a one-day thing sorting my friend Kevin's comic book collection. Too bad it won't be a regular thing since it actually pays better than my last temp assignment.
Like most comic book people, my friend's backlog of comics is sprawling. He left me alone in his house for a few hours while he ran errands (was this wise? he will never know) but it did manage to plow through three long boxes, which were completely out of order, and sort everything into stacks. I kind of wish I had taken a picture.
The night before, I dragged the same friend to the Hammer to see something called He Fell In Love with His Wife, a VERY primitive movie from 1915. Those of you who are up with your 'who's who' in silent Hollywood annals will recognize the name of the director, William Desmond Taylor. Very few of his movies survive, and this particular one, which has been preserved, strikes me as not the best example of his work, although it has some nice moments. It suffers from many classic silent film problems: unbelievable plot (woman suffers amnesia after finding out her husband is a bigamist - well, I didn't buy it), really stiff acting and mugging at the camera, funny romantic scenes, precious few closeups. The lead actress, Florence Rockwell (below center), is kind of a butterface. It was, however, short (59 minutes), light on the reading, and Kevin described it as 'delightful.' As much as I enjoyed seeing it, too, it was the first time in a while that I've worried about whether or not my date was bored.
Tonight, the man's indulging me further and we're hitting a double feature: the Amos n' Andy comedy Check and Double Check (which promises to be a total cringe-fest), and another movie with a title that my friends have said is very me: Pointed Heels. Oh, how alluring. I wonder if the color sequence from that one (yes, THE color sequence) has been uploaded to youtube by the same magical wizard person who has access to scenes from 1931's illusive Dixiana. If so, I could steal it and make it part of my post tomorrow.
Like most comic book people, my friend's backlog of comics is sprawling. He left me alone in his house for a few hours while he ran errands (was this wise? he will never know) but it did manage to plow through three long boxes, which were completely out of order, and sort everything into stacks. I kind of wish I had taken a picture.
The night before, I dragged the same friend to the Hammer to see something called He Fell In Love with His Wife, a VERY primitive movie from 1915. Those of you who are up with your 'who's who' in silent Hollywood annals will recognize the name of the director, William Desmond Taylor. Very few of his movies survive, and this particular one, which has been preserved, strikes me as not the best example of his work, although it has some nice moments. It suffers from many classic silent film problems: unbelievable plot (woman suffers amnesia after finding out her husband is a bigamist - well, I didn't buy it), really stiff acting and mugging at the camera, funny romantic scenes, precious few closeups. The lead actress, Florence Rockwell (below center), is kind of a butterface. It was, however, short (59 minutes), light on the reading, and Kevin described it as 'delightful.' As much as I enjoyed seeing it, too, it was the first time in a while that I've worried about whether or not my date was bored.
Tonight, the man's indulging me further and we're hitting a double feature: the Amos n' Andy comedy Check and Double Check (which promises to be a total cringe-fest), and another movie with a title that my friends have said is very me: Pointed Heels. Oh, how alluring. I wonder if the color sequence from that one (yes, THE color sequence) has been uploaded to youtube by the same magical wizard person who has access to scenes from 1931's illusive Dixiana. If so, I could steal it and make it part of my post tomorrow.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Clara Bow Endorses Nazis, Bland Millinery
The things you learn about people you love just by putting them into google search! Seriously, I have no idea what got into this girl, but you can tell she knows it's a bad idea by the way she's slouching and only half-smiling. The execution of this outfit is so shoddy. The swastikas look so slapped on. It's like that time in The Simpsons when they had to give Malibu Stacy a makeover and all they come up with was that cheap hat. Sorry Clara. Your attempts to usurp Pola Negri and Lina Basquette have failed.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Bad Ideas: Swimwear
Note the scalloped collar with matching cuffs (?!?), standing far left. Also, the feathered (?!?) bathing cap of the seated center girl. Also, intuition tells me that sausage curls don't hold up very well under moisture. Stay out of the surf, little miss Spanish shawl.
Mack Sennett Bathing Beauties, c. 1920. I don't know who's who but most of them look familiar. I really like the bowl cut, standing second from left.
Another bad idea: picking up strange women who wear triangular hats. You never know who they're bringing with them:
More Sennett girls. No date, circa 1918.
Jean Harlow Award for Excellence
I wasn't sure of what to write about today. I need to post something, otherwise I will have failed in my mission as a blogger. There's a lot going on but I feel extremely disinclined to write about it. After all, if I tried to work my issues out here, what would I talk to my therapist about? Jean Harlow?
I needed an excuse for posting pictures on here. A blog does not survive on written words alone. Therefore, I am creating the award for excellence in a particular field. Like being photographed wearing something I like. I will post new winners at my discretion. I am pleased to announce that today's winner is...
Jean Harlow, for her Chewbacca costume! Actually, this outfit is fantastic, don't you think? I don't know which movie this is from but I'm assuming based on the hair, that it's one of her earlier films. This is quintessential Harlow right here. You can almost see where her face ends and her hair begins. Lord only knows how many sables were harmed in the making of this fantastic example of fur coat cubism.
Also, I'm including in this post a gag photo that is most definitely associated with Red-Headed Woman. I'm reluctant to pick a favorite Harlow movie, but this one is up there. The woman holding the bottle is Gentlemen Prefer Blonds author Anita Loos, who wrote RHW's fantastic screenplay. It's a good thing we're having a power outage. It forces me to go somewhere public and do constructive things, like look for a job and stuff. Otherwise, I might be compelled to pop in that 'Forbidden Hollywood' DVD and spend an hour shouting 'Can you see through this? I'm afraid you can miss. I'll wear it!' at my computer.
I needed an excuse for posting pictures on here. A blog does not survive on written words alone. Therefore, I am creating the award for excellence in a particular field. Like being photographed wearing something I like. I will post new winners at my discretion. I am pleased to announce that today's winner is...
Jean Harlow, for her Chewbacca costume! Actually, this outfit is fantastic, don't you think? I don't know which movie this is from but I'm assuming based on the hair, that it's one of her earlier films. This is quintessential Harlow right here. You can almost see where her face ends and her hair begins. Lord only knows how many sables were harmed in the making of this fantastic example of fur coat cubism.
Also, I'm including in this post a gag photo that is most definitely associated with Red-Headed Woman. I'm reluctant to pick a favorite Harlow movie, but this one is up there. The woman holding the bottle is Gentlemen Prefer Blonds author Anita Loos, who wrote RHW's fantastic screenplay. It's a good thing we're having a power outage. It forces me to go somewhere public and do constructive things, like look for a job and stuff. Otherwise, I might be compelled to pop in that 'Forbidden Hollywood' DVD and spend an hour shouting 'Can you see through this? I'm afraid you can miss. I'll wear it!' at my computer.
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