papeetepatrick

I liked reading the article, dirac, and these kinds of knowledgeable people on musicals are still talking about them at Fedora's restaurant in the Village, at the remaining Broadway haunts in Midtown, and I have a friend who gets upset every time I mention the film of 'Gypsy', etc., because Ethel didn't do it. With my project here, I've finally been able to throw off the spell of my 'old fogey' attitude about Broadway, although it's primarily only as of yesterday and hearing 'Avenue Q' and 'The Color Purple'. Those alone make me know that what is considered 'a better musical' now is not going to have to be be that machine-like sound of 'Light in the Piazza'. Even before that, though, I'd say that 'Hair' was a miracle of a movie musical, that Forman could pull that off half a generation after the hippies were over--and part of it is that unique score. That's 1978. But I also think that 'Yentl' is very special and unique, that's 1984. After that, I'm unsure I can think of anything American that comes up to that level, except that I really liked 'Hairspray' even if I think it is only good, but not great, material. It was interesting about the opening of the 'grand theaters in smaller cities' affecting this. I wouldn't have guessed that this had happened, but I'd never have guessed that 'Chicago' would have such enormous appeal; even though I enjoyed the original production, in which I saw Ann Reinking, I never thought it was such a great show except for Fosse's dances; its success both as a Broadway revival and film astonishes me. Maybe 'Nine' will somehow come together as something special, though.

Oh well, they're never a favourite of mine, so the ones I like are those on the periphery and are also other kinds of films as well. But Kubrick's 'The Shining' is definitely my 2nd favourite of all horror of whatever form. He so improved Stephen King's book IMO I consider it one of his crowning achievements. 'Rosemary's Baby' is also wonderful, as many have mentioned, and the witches chants' are especially effective in the Dakota, where Lauren Bacall and Yoko Ono still live, the latter owning 5 apartments; I'd love to know what she's done with them.... The movie was very chic at the time it emerged, with Mia Farrow's haircut and her youthful period well-publicized. I didn't find 'Repulsion' so frightening even though Catherine Deneuve is easily my favourite screen actress if I were to choose just one--and 'The Hunger' ought to have been a great movie, and could have been had it followed Whitley Strieber's brilliant novel's ending. As it was, the ending completely destroyed the sense of horror and the film is memorable for endless Vogue Magazine-type scenes of bored Bowie/Deneuve smoking endless cigarettes and, later, Deneuve campily 'playing' Ravel's 'Gibet' from ' 'Gaspard de la Nuit.' Also on the outer edge of horror, 'Hush, Hush Sweet Charlotte' scared me even when I was a senior in high school, and the famous scene in 'Psycho' is easily the most frightening and brilliant horror scene I've ever seen: It's so great I still think of it nearly every day since I first saw it at the age of 8--when I had no idea what was coming, and Hitchcock and Leigh worked together so perfectly that her first cries are more like discomfort or inconvenience before you find the total pain setting in. For this scene alone, this to me is easily the greatest piece of horror film, as close as you could get to a snuff movie. A lesser-known but most arresting mini-series was made on Thomas Tryon's 'Dark Secret of Harvest Home', with Bette Davis in a New England hamlet as a character called Widow Fortune. The whole vision of agrarian rituals of sacrifice to some sort of unnamed Corn God is quite stunning, and thoroughly haunting with its 'Harvest Lord', who was a young man brought up to be eventually sacrificed for the community, somewhat along the lines of Shirley Jackson's 'The Lottery'. Along different lines, the Oliver Stone/Bruce Wagner 'Wild Palms' miniseries is one of the best things I've ever seen, and when first aired, so creepy I couldn't even watch but snippets of it--it was one of the first things set in a 'near future' instead of a distant one. As it so happens, this film, made in 1993, was set in Los Angeles in 2007, so we're now there and some of the prophecy seems to have come to be. Angie Dickinson, Robert Morse, James Belushi and a host of other brilliant actors make this one of the most unsettling and upsetting films I've ever seen, although I don't know if you'd technically call it horror.

Although less sophisticated and 'groundbreaking' than Spring Awakening I found I liked--at least from the listening--both Avenue Q and the Color Purple better because of being open and fully themselves. They did not have this weird quality of automatism and insulation some of the less-loud scores have. I think what threw me off the most about Spring Awakening is calling it a 'rock musical.' It is LITE FM if I ever heard it, and by most 60s standards it is strictly Easy Listening. Even Rent, much as I don't care for it, could legitimately be called a 'rock musical', but I really don't see how this score is recognizably rock in any sense I understand it. There's no rhapsodic lyricism in Avenue Q, but it's the funniest score I ever listened to, with wonderfully juvenile lyrics that are hilarious as well as raunchy, unlike Yazbek's reached-for and crude lyrics to The Full Monty. This was a big surprise, as I think I would thoroughly enjoy seeing Avenue Q, and did not expect to. The Color Purple has a lot that's quite wonderful to it as well, and I thought it a much better and more impassioned score than the NYT critic did (I suppose that was Brantley, but don't think it worth looking up.) All three of these shows are good signs, though, and after listening to Urinetown in the next couple of days, I'll have familiarized myself with all the last 6 years of Tony winners, both score and show and many others. Incidentally, even though I enjoyed the movie of Hairspray, the 2002 winner, I think Avenue Q is much livelier and more imaginative. I think The Color Purple is a better score than Hairspray too, and it doesn't seem too false when Shug Avery sings 'Too Beautiful for Words'. You probably need to have liked the movie, although the book's fans may not like any of this. But Avenue Q has got things in it that are so funny I couldn't even believe it, especially that song that ends slowly edging with the 'I've got a Canadian girlfriend and I can't wait....' etc., etc., (unprintable). It's so unexpected that you can't resist it despite its extreme lowness. I think Avenue Q will surely be made into a movie and will be a very good one. But these shows all have something in them that will make not bother with Wicked, which I would find useless without a big star in it. I know printscess loved Avenue Q, would love to hear others' views on these and also feel free to tell me I don't know what I'm talking about, because I might not.

Wow... There are worse images I could think of WOW!! Well, this will lead to novelties just like the other adornments. A ballet dancer who would want 'pornlook' would seem to be something of an oxymoron, and in one case from the past, a tautology--the best-looking ones have enough of it already, but in graceful form; and add-ons are going to be vulgar, like Carmela Soprano's ostentatious ring. I've only seen a few porn stars that came anywhere near having a look that most ballet dancers would want to emulate (maybe no more than two)--it's often a half-wit, vacant, slack-jawed look which is certainly not going to work very long unless the whole domain sells out and there's an 'everybody can do ballet' phenomenon (oh well, there probably will be that kind of thing.)

Wow...i'll never forget Leibniz Monad's theory as long as i live. It gave me a great deal of a hard time on a Philosophy final What is interesting to me is that Leibniz's reputation was not in the slightest affected by his ridicule in Voltaire's most famous work 'Candide', which many of us are introduced to far earlier than we are to Leibniz (if we ever are.) Serious philosophers discuss Leibniz much more than they do Voltaire, which makes it seem possible that Voltaire, in satirizing Leibniz's 'best of all possible worlds', was not even directing his poison at the way Leibniz meant it. Voltaire seems to make it as though Leibniz was some 'positive thinking New Age' type who thought everything was just wonderful, whereas looking even slightly at Leibniz you see that he's talking about how things work together in such a way as the 'best possible world' is simply the one that does occur, as ineluctable as a fait accompli. The 'best possible world' would be the one that was inevitable, not that the world we do get doesn't contain within it the possibility of imagining that things 'could be different and better'. That certainly is one thing all eras have in common, that there are naysayers of everything that happens, and their protests and fury are part of what makes the next inevitable development happen. It may have to do with Voltaire's high reputation during his lifetime. I prefer the racier Crebillon fils for amusing 18th century satire, but Zadig is also interesting with that image of the 'stare of the basilisk'. Imagine Huysmans felt himself to be a kindred spirit with Voltaire, with much more dripped poison still, but Leibniz is taken very seriously, and without any bow to Voltaire's ridicule, by Heidegger, Derrida, Deleuze, and in fact all serious 20th century philsophers. There's probably no mention of him in Marx, but what could you expect--that's all about how we always live in the worst of all possible worlds until we do violent overthrow of the people who have gotten control of anything whatever. Voltaire's satire is more like the constant political complaints that change like cloud shapes but remain the same underlying dissent (and surely necessarily so) in that it is always there even when the old problems get solved (once 'solved', they are then complained about anew.)

A second listening-to of 'Spring Awakening' has shown me rather that getting to know the score at least this well serves my own purposes of research, which I am currently writing about elsewhere and through which I can perceive well-enough in this form to see how certain cultural trends are evolving. This is one of the important ones, because it has been given so much attention and awards, etc. I intend to listen to the others from which I've expected much less, but on second hearing, this one is not useful in itself, but can be inducted into theory much more easily than I would have hoped, because without it, there really is no new score I've been impressed with since Cy Coleman's 'The Life'. That is the last score in which you could still hear Broadway electricity that wasn't just graceless loudness, although the short-lived Marvin Hamlisch show 'Sweet Smell of Success' had a moment of sparks here and there. For the most part, outside the much more common loud thing borne of Webber, Disney, Schonburg, etc., you get something like this, which is more varied and imaginative than 'Light in the Piazza', if possibly not quite even as suave, but it still has that very contemporary thing you find in so many fields and domains of culture--a kind of 'insulatedness' in which a full soaring, a full electricity never break through. New York is still the city these things are supposedly made with production in mind, and that city itself is far less electric, and rather more electronic and with its own newly-weird insulated sensation, than it used to be. In 'Spring Awakening' you get all these old echoes of the Christy Minstrels, of actual folksong maybe of Scotch-Irish mountain tune, of Judy Collins, of a little bit of 'Alice's Restaurant', of Neil Diamond, but you don't get anything like 'Hair' or 'Company' or 'City of Angels' or 'Nine' or 'The Life' (not even bothering with the periods in which there were several startling Broadway moments a year) and there's not one song that really stands up straight. Sometimes it sounds like singing around some camp bonfire. The lyrics are much better than the music, so it's too bad. Frankly, it sounds like a kind of ashram, viz., it is always somewhat virtual and ersatz and over-controlled. As such, this High Ashram Muzak, rather like a low hum of a fax, computer, or vacuum cleaner, has served it's purpose for me, and will probably enable the elimination of both 'Wicked' and 'The Color Purple' from my L.A. time as well. Except for the Blind Boys of Alabama Gospel singing at the Disney Theater and the L. A. Ballet 'Nutcracker', I think I'm just gonna SHOP, just like any other dyed-in-the-wool Hollywood bimbo.

I never saw the Marcovici tear-drop, but will look for it next time. Where is it, please? I think it would look good on him and offer a nice dissonance to his prettiness of rococo style that reminds you of the Ile St. Louis, Carpeaux, and Canova, among other 18th century expressions. In the 80s, shortly after her Playboy spread, the 50s-era starlet and Howard Hughes-heiress Terry Moore, who was born with the world's best genes, had a $1000 diamond teardrop she wore under one eye. We thought that was 'de trop' at the time, but now look back on it with more tolerance. here she is at 74, sans teardrop, looks like she might hire Philip Marlowe for an investigation and change the story around a good bit later: http://www.imdb.com/gallery/granitz/2456/E...,%20Terry%20(I) Does she look lovelier with this simpler and more natural look? Anyway, the answer is no, but I'd like to see Marcovici's anyway. If a diamond teardrop, why not a tattoo teardrop? It sounds like the dancers want to do this anyway, and that's where the buck stops thus far, it seems (at least on the tattoo question.)

I'm almost sure that's what Bart meant, as would I. A permanent tattoo is not costuming anyway, as it is a real-life tattoo thereafter even had it been made for 'Fancy Free'. This couldn't happen, and I definitely think temporary tattoos for 'Fancy Free' are an excellent idea--wouldn't even be surprised if they hadn't already been used. Ditto 'Slaughter on 10th Avenue' for the men, and some other things. For the permanent tattoos you're talking about, I think they ought to be covered and camouflaged if they do not coincide with very specific kinds of tough guy characters of the kind bart and I are clearly talking about, although he's added some character roles I haven't had time to think about yet. I don't really like the idea of the Striptease Girl in 'Slaughter' having tattoos personally--because she needs to be a ballet-stripper, not a Coney Island or Bourbon Street stripper. Ali in 'Corsaire' a temporary tattoo--yes, if he could dance it at a Tattoo Level.

Thanks, AnthonyNYC, and I found today that you can also get those onstage tickets for $31.00. This is hardly a hardship, considering that they all have to turn around and to the side from time to time. I most likely will go in the next couple of months, and, without going into too much detail, I'm not very interested in Jonathan Franzen's opinions on anything--he's too bratty. By contrast, the cheapest tickets for 'Wicked' in the B'way production are over $50. I might go see it the next few months in Los Angeles anyway, it's much cheaper there and I am less vulture-like on vacation. I think there are no tickets less than $115 for the current 'Les Miserables', which I've never seen and don't particularly care to, but the tourists will pay for it, no question.

That seems extreme to me and almost like the purity demanded with monochromatic cygnets, white ballets, etc.. I can't really think of any ballerina whom I thought a great dancer being rightly eliminated from a ballet due to a scar like that, although it's a matter of personal preference of course; to some, it's going to seem sexist of me not to mind the occasional male tattoo (but not prefer it unless the production already seemed somewhat moribund or superficial) and never want to see a tattoo on a ballerina. A tattooed Coppelia--now that sounds hideous. And anything in 'The Nutcracker' too. That POB 'Caligula' with a tattoed hero doesn't sound too bad, though. For myself personally, I've never even wanted a temporary one, much less any kind of piercing. Worst to me is cheek piercing, which borders on self-flagellation.

I admire your intestinal fortitude. I rarely listen to anything new or even newish myself. I’m not proud of it but there it is. I'll catch it if it's televised or go to the theatre on occasion, but I can't sit down with most of it at home. I’m sure sidwich and others can respond (and I hope they do, maybe I'll learn something). But I did really like it. I was quite surprised. It was hardly the nightmare of 'The Chocolate Soldier', and although also somewhat lightweight and simple a plot, it's moving. Printscess raved about 'Avenue Q', and I have to agree with you that I admire my digging through these new things, because I have like little of it. There's a weird sense of relief, in my case, when I really can know what 'Beauty and the Beast', 'The Lion King', 'Les Miserables', and 'Miss Saigon' are about instead of 'knowing I wouldn't like them', and basically I don't much....now what I may 'deprive myself of' is 'Dirty Rotten Scoundrels', I think I can live with just one Yazbek score, which I've already disliked intensely. Also just got the full CD of 'The Chocolate Soldier', which is bound to heal the damage of that terrible movie, but also found that there is a CD of 3 original casts from the 20's of Romberg--'Desert Song', 'New Moon', and one other, this should be interesting. You'd rather see it at the theater for the reasons I gave with 'The Full Monty' and 'Wicked': The music doesn't sound nearly so horrible if there's something else to distract you from it. But I much prefer the Ethel CD's I also mention, and I've put some holds on the original 'One Touch of Venus' and some other Kurt Weill.

It depends on the ballet or dance, the tattoo itself, and the dancer. I don't want to see any tattoos on ballerinas, but some of the men in some of those ABT 'Swan Lakes' and 'Sleeping Beauty'(s) could perhaps improve the situation with tattoos since so much is gaudy already, and not of the most exquisite variety either-Cornejo, Gomes, and Corella might make good Desires and Siegfrieds with tattoos, and even the Hallberg might be able to do okay with some of them. I don't know if Peter Martins tattooed for 'Tzigane' might have added a dash of something ethnic to his partnering of Ms. Farrell, it might not have hurt. But since this is mostly about permanent tattoos, tattoos as part of the costuming itself is bound to evolve eventually if all this many guys have got them. Probably they should be camouflaged as much as possible until such time as they are used instead of garments, as I've seen in some performance artists like Karen Finley. I wouldn't like to see anybody in 'Jewels' with tattoos.

I can't imagine why, Mashinka, and I have pasted the passage from the link in case someone felt clicking on another link might be too wearying: "They dived into the subliminal marriage of their flesh which no one else could be privy to… skins interlacing with smudges of sweat, tawny, alabaster; breasts dallied with; a torso rising, turning; hairs prickling at their ends and tangled with eagerness. Even the mewling pant of joy might have been recognised, labelled. But it would not have been felt, understood." " Thank you, dirac, for linking to this with your typical ability to remain non-judgmental, as I felt like Clint Eastwood back in Carmel-mayoral moments, although I don't know how frequently he uttered 'Make My Day', told people how wonderful it was how they'd done it, sat back with satisfaction at his desk, called Sondra on the phone since they were going together at the time--and why? why? didn't they ever get married? she of co-starring roles in 'the Gauntlet' and Rosemary Clooeny fact-based TV movies? She was worried. Surely. And what was she worried about? She was worried about disaster? Was I worried? Yes. I was terrified someone would think I wrote like that too...

Just listened once to 'Spring Awakening', but what was described as 'rock score' is definitely not hard rock in any sense. Much very pretty stuff, although the first impression is that it's not so struggling for attention by loudness, but that it's more interesting and has much more poetic lyrics than 'Light in the Piazza', which is at least not screamy and throwing out magic-mountain vapours in your face every few seconds. Songs like 'The Word of Your Body' and 'The Song of Purple Summer' are euphonious, but almost all of it is very pleasant; if anything, a song or two with a little more energy wouldn't be unwelcome here, but much better this than 'Wicked'. 'The B**** of Living' is even intelligent, and is the first time I've heard a Broadway show seriously try to let itself be mediated by times which have heavy and recurring strains of nihilism in them. Anybody see it yet? I'd think many of these songs would be quite enhanced by live performance, which is not nearly always the case. I'll say more after another listen, but this was hopeful. I'd say it was the best new B'way score I'd heard since 'The Life', but not quite up to that level musically, even if the show is likely better. Of newer things, I've still got to make my way through 'Avenue Q', ' The Color Purple', and 'Urinetown.' Interested to hear anyone else's opinions before I say mine. Not yet convinced Duncan Sheik and Steven Sater's music and lyrics ascend to the level of 'Hair' yet, at least in terms of musical variety--it does seem to need a song like 'Good Mornin' Starshine' to throw a bit of a cold shower on what is a kind of 'rock lite' for the most part. In the meantime, thanks sidwich for those marvelous details about the individual tunes themselves--just loved the info on 'Blue Moon' and 'Young Love', and would never have known it. And dirac, thanks for 'Maytime', which is truly lovely, I agree. The best is the ending reprise of 'Sweethearts', because they really make it long, instead of winding things up with a shortened reprise. This lengthening has a magical effect in letting the old lovers take their place beside the new ones, rather than merely giving way to the new. I hadn't realized how beautiful Jeannette MacDonald was, and Nelson Eddy is much more effective here and he seems much less wooden with MacDonald than with Eleanor Powell. Strangest is that chameleon John Barrymore, who looks so much more worn than he had 5 years earlier in 'Grand Hotel'. I don't know anything else except 'Twentieth Century', but it seemed strange to find him in this role. That flowered swing Jeanette swings in earlier at the fair is wonderfully Fragonardian, there is no dearth of flower petals throughout.

Ouch! I'm too fond of Fred to wish that on him, even to expand his expressive range. Carbro, dear friend, I'm afraid we're from different planets sometimes. Ava Gardner is a form of Female Perfection and Charm that has rarely been equalled in all of History. The problem might be whether Fred really could expand his expressive range in this venue sufficient for it to improve his art, although Sinatra was said by Ava herself to have already determined enough range, and from her that was a serious compliment: One of the most wonderful things about her personality was that she was so confident that she'd tell Frank where to go at the drop of a hat. She just wasn't scared of people, and had one of the best senses of humour of the 20th century. I read that Phyllis McGuire, also into gangster types, of course, talked about how boring Sinatra was when drunk, and one of the things he always did was force people to agree with him that Ava was the most beautiful woman in the world. I'm sure Ava thought this was hilarious, and paid about 2 seconds attention to it. And you can see the warmth of her persona in one of her best movie roles, as Mrs. Faulk in 'The Night of the Iguana'. Frankly, I am sure that if Fred had spent intimate time with Ava Gardner, you couldn't have found a gentler lady. Lena Horne absolutely adored her, even after she lost the role of Julie in 'Showboat' to her. Lena would have inevitably been better, due to her incredible musical gift, but Ava was pretty damned impressive too. For pure biological perfection at exactly the right ages for both, refer to 'My Forbidden Past' in which Ms. Gardner and Robert Mitchum are the ultimate representatives of their species.

Many thanks to dirac and anthonynyc for 'The Sky's the Limit', which I watched last night. Anthony, Fred is indeed marvelous in the 'One for My Baby...' when he dances on the bar, perhaps some of his most dazzling work in film. I don't know if the song was introduced in this film, but 'my Shining Hour', which is heard and danced to several times and pretty nicely too, with Joan Leslie, was. As for Astaire's singing of 'One for my Baby and One More for the Road', it is a nice rendition, but I'm too used to a much darker version, and Frank Sinatra is the best for me on that: In 'Young at Heart', he not only sings it richly, but the way Doris Day walks in the club toward the end of the number is very poetic. An unusual pairing, Sinatra and Day, and I hear she wasn't crazy about him, but it worked. I like that film. I fully intend to turn this into a NOTEBOOK, short of legislation precluding it, as I make my way through this domain which is much larger than I ever imagined when I started out, both methodically and chaotically, and both of which continue to be the practice. But I hope the Show Biz Dept. will tell me how they agree with my exemplary taste or how I have grossly misjudged things like 'On the Twentieth Century', which I half-listened to the other day, and was not struck by anything in it the way I am most Cy Coleman scores. 'Will Rogers Follies' is not all that hot either, although the record is made worthwhile because of Keith Carradine's perfection at this sort of thing; there's a PBS special of B'way numbers in which he sings 'Oh What a Beautiful Mornin' and it is easily the best I ever heard--he should have done Curly in a big revival of 'Oklahoma!' while he was young enough. At that time, hardly anybody was better-looking nor sang this kind of song better either. Otherwise, listened to Ethel Merman's CD of wonderful old recordings--with terrific twin-piano work by Fairchild and Carroll for 'Red, Hot and Blue' and even splashier stuff by Al and Lee Reiser for Schwartz/Field's 'Stars in Your Eyes', although the interest for the tunes for me is all the Porter songs for the former--in particular Ethel is everything she's supposed to be for the title song, which somehow I didn't know so well. 'Red, Hot and Blue' has some of Porter's best songs, including 'Ridin' High' and 'Down in the Depths', and 'It's de-Lovely', and made me remember again what a range of song styles he has--by accident, I discovered that he wrote 'True Love', which I'd never imagine as having been written by the composer of 'Just one of those Things' or 'Let's Do it'. But then, while I always knew 'Blue Room' was Rodgers & Hart, I would never have guessed without Ella Fitzgerald's R & Hart songbook that 'Blue Moon', which always sounds so syrupy, was also their handiwork.

A beautiful observation, Anthony_NYC. "Hello, Young Lovers" is, in fact, so extraordinary and rare a moment--it's really operatic in the film, and perhaps more than any other solo song like that I know of in a musical comedy film--that almost all non-dubbed numbers in musical films pale by comparison. I think Nixon's voice was a good deal richer than it was later in 'West Side Story', and 'My Fair Lady', but most of us prefer this to the recording of Gertrude Lawrence. Known to be one of the greatest of actresses, you clearly had to be there to love her songs for 'The King and I'. It reminds me, despite the obvious stretches and differences, of Streisand's famous and sublime version of 'A Sleepin' Bee' in its expansiveness, voluptuousness (in the sense of fullness) and profundity.

"Diabetic ketoacidosis and hyperglycemic hyperosmolar nonketotic syndrome". by G.Umpierrez ,M Khajavi M and A Kitabchi . I just love those ol' fashioned bodice-rippers! One hopes epaulement has been cherished.

Well, if you're talking about the classic property that was a great play and film, 'You Can't Take It with You', it doesn't really make too much sense to review it as though it were other than a revival of a classic. The way you've written it, one might think it was a new play, rather than something from 1936 (the play) and 1938 (the film). 'Hairspray' and 'Light in the Piazza' are different, being only a few years old. However you may not care for it, 'You Can't Take It With You' has been done by hundreds, if not thousands of 'professional theater companies.'

ROXANA--the Fortunate Mistress, by the Right Honourable Genius Daniel Defoe, and such superb prose I have to quote the 3rd paragraph: "I retain'd nothing of France, but the Language: My Father and Mother being people of better Fashion, than ordinarily the People call'd REFUGEES at that Time were, and having fled early, while it was easie to secure their Effect, had, before their coming over, remitted considerable Sums of Money, or, as I remember, a considerable Value in French Brandy, Paper, and other Goods; and these selling very much to Advantage here, my Father was in very good Circumstances at this coming over, so that he was far from applying to the rest of our Nation that were here, for Countenance and Relief: On the contrary, he had his Door continually throng'd with miserable Objects of the poor starving Creatures, who at that Time fled hither for Shelter, on Account of Conscience, or something else." Oh, the boon of Ballet Talk! I was reminded to read this due to the Classics thread, and also to re-read 'Treasure Island' for the first time since I was 7 years old due to the 're-reading' thread, so that I remember the precise day as it was with my aunt and cousins, but also even remembered the last paragraph. So I had a kind of Stevenson/Proust experience with these, but got bored with 'Treasure Island' about 2/3 of the way through, so started some John Cleland--the first 60 pages or so--and this led to writing a passage including the Proust sensation and a new XXX-rated passage for Treasure Island itself as part of the 4th Chapter of my Own Third Book which will be published in late 2008 or early 2009. The natural synthesis and reward for having balanced out Stevenson's gentleness and Cleland's courtly indecency in a production of my own is the joy of Defoe's fantastic prose--and made all the greater by his fighting in wars, his successful and failed businesses, his time in Newgate which helped him write 'Moll Flanders' I guess, his debts and bankruptcies and numerous arrests. In short, the huge character of Defoe, an exemplary individual!

No question about that. I think maybe it's that there is something so 'characterful' about her that when she is in very sensitive parts, it's hard to forget she's Bette Davis. I can, on the other hand, forget the Katharine Hepburn is Katharine Hepburn in 'Long Day's Journey..' and 'Lion in Winter', although I certainly cannot in 'Guess Who's Coming to Dinner' and 'On Golden Pond' or 'Stage Door Canteen' (!), in all of which I find her quite insufferable! And I can forget that Margo Channing is Bette Davis too, because the personas are so close, at least in my imagination. This concept interests me as I was thinking of it last night, finally watching 'The Mirror Has Two Faces'. I didn't expect to like it at all, and yet it is quite a wonderful film--not least because you can enjoy all the perfectly-cast actors (leads and supporting actors) both as the characters they play and as the celebrated actors they are. Streisand does look beautiful in this film, and using Lauren Bacall was just plain inspired. Ms. Streisand does know how to make a film.

I think Bette Davis is a great actress, but I don't personally find her to be equally great in all her parts. This could be because some of the best ones simply stand out far and away beyond 'Petrified Forest' and 'Dark Victory' and 'Now, Voyager' for me. Always good, but truly great in 'All About Eve', 'Jezebel','The Letter', 'What Ever Happened to Baby Jane'. In things like 'The Star', she seems to be suffering from shortness of breath, and I think this may have been an inexpensive production in which some things were just not corrected. I didn't think she was quite right in 'Little Foxes' either. Here I think I would respectfully disagree, although I would include 'A Woman of Substance' as a good example of what I was asking; there have been a number of superb TV miniseries. She uses her mouth in 'From Here to Eternity' in a most surprisingly lewd way--that's a rough edge in my book, especially coming from an actress like Deborah Kerr, and the first time it appears, I was startled (and I'd definitely been around the block by the time I finally saw it). If Julie Andrews had worked on specific things like this instead of making a psychodrama out of 'changing her goody-goody image' and constantly talking about it, she might have made the same success in being truly passionate in roles like this--even in 'Beloved Infidel' Deborah Kerr is totally desirable, and that lascivious look in 'Eternity' is light-years more effective than that embarassing moment in 'S.O.B', which may be read as an admission of failure. And thank God Kerr got Karen Holmes instead of Joan Crawford (I didn't know this). Be grateful for large favours is all I can say. Of all major stars, I find her persona the heaviest and most leaden, her unhappiness always apparent under the haughty artificiality, although I do respect her very good work in the best period pulp--perfect in 'Flamingo Road' and 'Mildred Pierce'. She had been beautiful in the 30s, but all that narcissism and vanity don't work when you have no sense of humour; and then it began to metamorphose into the most remarkable hard and ugly look. That iconic beach scene Cristian so rightly loves is simply a nightmare-image if you imagine Joan Crawford in it. I was struck by this too, and it's not surprising that she has this and probably a few other things in common with Audrey Hepburn, although Kerr is the much more versatile actress.

Dancerboy--I'm totally jealous! thanks for that wonderful report.

I think I know what you mean, but Kerr had enough range to temporarily lose that serenity and inward calm for the beach with Burt Lancaster--she was very sensual and not losing it with Burt would have meant she was still thinking about nuns. I was talking with a friend yesterday who is very knowledgeable about film and we both seemed to think that maybe Katharine Hepburn and Deborah Kerr had the biggest ranges (probably should include Vanessa Redgrave too), and he said he didn't think, though, that Kerr had ever played a bitch; I don't know all of her many movies, although I know perhaps 3/4 of them: I can't think of one, although I imagine there may be, I think she could have done it. Any ideas on that, dirac? Katharine Hepburn doesn't seem to me to be serene, but rather imperious and often too proud, which serves her well in the hard things ('Lion in Winter' and her amazing 'Long Day's Journey Into Night'), but after the 30s she's never soft and feminine again to my mind, even in 'Summertime', where she's totally unconvincing next to Rosanno Brazzi--much more comfortable in 'The African Queen' and in that dress. Grace Kelly was a good actress whom I never found interesting except in 'To Catch a Thief', but many did. I found this one sadder than usual myself, can think of only 3 others over the years that have seemed such a loss, and Robert Mitchum, one of her best leading men, was one of them.

Thanks for these, I just put holds on both of them, which I oughtn't to have missed. Agree about 'The Sundowners', she was always offering 'a cuppa'. But the list really goes on and on with her, 'The Grass is Greener' is wonderful, 'Tea and Sympathy', 'Black Narcissus' as you noted, and 'Heaven Knows, Mr. Allyson'. A tremendous range she had and absolutely beautiful. It's getting to the point where we can almost count rather easily the old classic ones still left: Patricia Neal, Olivia de Havilland and Joan Fontaine, Jean Simmons...and Anita Page (!), last person alive to be at the first Oscars ceremony. And Mickey Rooney and Kirk Douglas.