"Dang, that volcano might blow any second. How's my hair?"
It is a four minute video of 'home movies' by Ingrid Bergman around the time she was making Stromboli in Italy in the early Fifties. It is a featurette on Criterion's recent Bergman/Rossellini Italian box set.
I have spoken of this before, how the US Congress went in to a tizzy regarding the "Notorious" Ms Bergman leaving her husband and child, moving to Italy, and hooking up with Rossellini, and how they tried to get her censured by the Senate (?!), and essentially blacklisted her in the United States. But I did not know of this, which I read in Dave Kehr's great NYT review of the box set:
These moments of grace — for that is what they are — can’t be filmed or dramatized in a conventional way, which would only lead to the postcard religiosity of “The Song of Bernadette” or “The Greatest Story Ever Told.” Instead, they occur off camera, in between shots, at moments when we are looking elsewhere or thinking of something else. They happen before we know they are happening, secured in a fierce, physical reality that would seem to preclude any kind of transcendence but which in fact is its vehicle.
Back in 1950, a Times correspondent contacted the Vatican’s film office, in what must have been the certain expectation of a juicy quote condemning “Stromboli.” Instead, the anonymous reporter wrote: “They expressed surprise when told that Miss Bergman’s films had been banned in some American cities. The Catholic censors’ criterion in judging a film, they said, is solely whether its contents are in keeping with high moral standards; the private lives of actors and actresses are not a factor.”
The private lives of actors and actresses are not a factor. Heck, even the Vatican gets it right some times.
"I saw your films, Open City and Paisa, and enjoyed them very much. If you need a Swedish actress who speaks English very well, who has not forgotten her German, who is not very understandable in French, and who in Italian knows only 'ti amo', I am ready to come and make a film with you.
Best regards,
Ingrid Bergman"
It was that beautiful and ever so elegant, and eloquent, letter that sent off a chain reaction of events: Ms Bergman went on to have an affair, and a professional relationship with Mr Rossellini, eventually divorcing her first husband, and having three children with Rossellini, including the exquisite Isabella Rossellini.
Once it was learned Stateside that Ms Bergman was living "in sin" with Rossellini she was censured by the United States Congress, and was blacklisted indefinitely from working in Hollywood.
She eventually returned, of course, and won two more Oscars, but that is so ludicrous to me, what those white men in power think they feel they have to say about a woman and her personal private life. Screw 'em.
Ms Bergman is forever. Nobody knows those yahoos' names anymore.
Here is the greatest liberal progressive blogger of all-time, digby, with your drinking schedule for tonight. She is much more pessimistic than me, so, that should tell you something.
(And, what the fuck? My parents were lucky enough to live in Switzerland from October 2001 until Obama was elected -- although my Da is still working in CH until he retires, and my Mum lives in Tulsa, OK now -- but, what does it say about our nation, that this thing, this General, this OEE, is this close?)
It is the media, dummy.
Unfortunately, after Obama has wrapped this thing up tonight, no media maven/pundit/expert will be held to bare. The whole myth of a Liberal/Progressive media will only be; mistakenly, and righteously upheld.
It was fixed, screams the Right. Therefore, it must be so, says the media.
Read driftglass. No one does better at exposing the false equivalency media circus than our Man in Chicago.
The media are desperate to portray this OEE (Orchestrated Electoral Extravaganza) as a tight race. Well, it is a tight race, as far as the national numbers are concerned, but, it is not a close race as far as the Electoral College is concerned. (This is one of the main reasons Nate Silver's own employers, and others in the TradMedia hate him so much. Plus, he is slender, talks in a high voice, and likes fine restaurants.)
Why are the supposedly LeftTradMedia so willing to suck up to Mittens, and declare this a toss-up? Because, they have bills to pay, and Masters to serve.
Marx was fucking right, even if you are immediately turned off by my using his name.
It is not race, or gender that ultimately differentiate between citizens of a culture, it is CLASS.
Okay, enough lecturing, how about another great video, one of my all-time faves:
Re movies. Every time I make a choice at home, or actually at the cinema, I am richly rewarded.
Screenshot from Erotikon, Tora Teje on the right.
Still, today's amazing epiphany, Erotikon, is all due to David Thomson, the critic and author who made me in to a cinema freak. He wrote about Erotikon in his amazing book, Have You Seen ... ?
But I had forgotten about it until a couple of weeks ago, and waited to find the right opportunity to seek it out and watch it.
Today was that day, home alone, lounging, relaxing, listening to soft breezes, having sandwiches, drinking rose, etc, ...
You can watch Erotikon for free on YouTube, but it is a Swedish silent film with Swedish intertitle cards, and those are actually subtitled in Italian. The film is pretty simple to understand, and you can go that route, but there are a lot of double entendres in the intertitles, so, I suggest you do what I have done and either rent the film digitally on Amazon or plain buy it digitally, to watch on your computer at home.
And, that is right. I said, that Erotikon is a Swedish silent film. From 1920, to boot. I know there are many folks out there who just can not do silent films. And, I understand that. There are a lot of really awful silent films out there, a lot of mugging, and crazy melodramatic claptrap. But there are so many good ones, too. Directors like Ernst Lubitsch, Jean Vigo, Luis Bunuel, Abel Gance, Sergei Eisenstein, FW Murnau, and dozens of others that made absolutely thrilling motion pictures. By the time "talkies" were inevitable most of these masters were so good at telling their stories that they had abandoned intertitles all together.
The director, Mauritz Stiller, is not well known. Well, at least not for directing. He is best known for being the man who discovered Greta Garbo. And he arranged a deal with Louis B Mayer at MGM to be part of a package deal with Garbo. Except Mayer turned Garbo in to the biggest star on the planet, and ignored Stiller, practically shunning him in to a return to Sweden. Stiller died within the year upon his return.
Which is a real shame. Because Erotikon is a flat-out masterpiece of the cinema. Erotikon, made in 1920, is hipper, more sophisticated, and more open about sex, than you, or me, for that matter. Watching scenes unspool, you begin to recognize situations from your own life, being replayed on the screen. It is essentially the story of a vaguely unsatisfied wife, and how dangerously close she will come to ruining a half dozen lives, by shamelessly flirting, and manipulating men to achieve her final goal. But there is no judgement here. She is not a slut. She is not a villain in this picture. There are no villains. She understands the consequences that might occur if she can not finally end up with the man she wants. And she is willing to pay the price, as well, with courage, dignity, and grace. Erotikon is all about the power of flirting (flirt is absolutely one of the prettiest, and finest words in the English language) and seduction. Erotikon is about how passion and love to some are always changeable and moving. This is taken as a matter of fact. Love is a crazy crazy creature that none of us will ever truly understand. It is better to be true to yourself than it is fit in to some correct societal norm that is smothering you.
Tora Teje in Erotikon.
And, let me not get away here first without mentioning our star, Tora Teje. Ms Teje is not particularly pretty, though she has her moments. But she radiates a simmering flirtatious radiant sexuality that burns up the screen. It is one of the sexiest performances I have seen from any actor in any film, period. Most of the time in a film, you get one, maybe two, or sometimes even three wildly sexy moments from actors. Ms Teje has over a half dozen in this ten reeler. The body language she uses; the elegant hand gestures; the way she looks at a subject or an actor; the sublime way she elongates her slender frame like a cat; and on and on. She literally makes you fall in love with her all over again at least once in every reel.
So, this is insanely highly recommended.
If you can get over the whole silent film "thing". (My advice is, if you find yourself getting bored, just take the film in pieces. Set aside twenty minutes or half hour or so and munch it up in bites over a few days.)
Mwah, ...
Ardent
UPDATE! 7/3/12: Two things I forgot to mention yesterday. First, the intertitle cards in Erotikon are beautiful. Each time a new major character is introduced in the film, we get a card telling us who the character is and who the actor is, playing them. Plus, the cards are lovely, each one with a different little art deco illustration that either comments on the character speaking the line, or the story.
And, second: Ingrid Bergman was five years old, and living in Stockholm, when Erotikon was released. I am certain she must have seen the film, growing up. Being the "broad-minded", "notorious" flirt that she was, I would like to think it was one of her favorite motion pictures.
One of my personal Holy Trinity of Movie Stars. (The other two are Barbara Stanwyck, Cancer; and Ingrid Bergman, Virgo.) I remember one time at a drama party back in 1989 or so, someone made fun of Ms Davis' Letterman appearances and complained about how old she looked. I mentioned All About Eve and how crucial that film was to anybody interested in the theatre. That shut him up real good.
There just never will be any movie starlike Bette Davis again.
... This is another notes column, post, what have you ... I was pretty disappointed with Game Change. I thought Recount was much much much better (both HBO films were produced, written, directed by the same team.) I thought the performances were fine. I mean, when is Julianne Moore ever bad in anything? And Woody was fine, as was Ed Harris. And I am not disappointed because it was not a hatchet job on Ms Palin. Well, I do not think it was a hatchet job, anyway. There are many others that disagree, I am sure. I just have a hard time believing that Palin is that vain and dumb, and would be so intransigent. I know it was based on a book by journalists (*shiver* Halperin). And journalists never shade the truth or outright lie, right? Anyhoo, I think Palin is much craftier than they portrayed her. I think Ms Palin is a misguided, very evil woman, who knows exactly what she is doing all the time. Sure, I am probably wrong, but when you are making a film, my through-line is much better than the one we witnessed last Saturday ... What is it w/ cats and rainy weather? Mavis & Molly are completely nuts the past two days ... Meanwhile, I v much enjoyed the recent PBS American Experience Clinton documentary. Say what you will, flame away, but I liked Bill. I liked Billary. And Chelsea and Socks, the whole crew. (That is Socks up in the top left hand corner of fauxluxe, holding a press conference, naturally.) They are all assholes, politicians. There is blood on most every politician's hands. Waco was a disaster. NAFTA? Ugh. DOMA, Don't Ask Don't Tell? Not pretty, sure. But we had a frickin' surplus when all was said and done, a peace dividend for crying out loud and the country was in good shape. (The GOP is itching for another government shutdown this September, right before the election. Geniuses, those folks.) And I frickin' love Hillary Clinton. So sue me. Flame away. There is no way I will give you my DailyKos handle. (And Marlene, you keep it to yourself, please.) I do not write diaries there any more, but whoo-boy, I was there, writing diaries in the v ugly trenches of the great Obama/Clinton wars in 2008. I can not tell you the amount of sexist, ageist, awful hatred Clinton received on DailyKos in the Summer of 2008. Or the amount of abuse I suffered just because I believed Hillary Clinton should have been the nominee. Do not get me wrong, I love Obama (more as a wonk and campaigner than as a policy maker) but back then I thought Clinton was the right choice. Aw, hell, I still think Hillary would be a better President. But I am in a severe minority, I know (even amongst Dems!) ...
Anyroad, the really big news today is that, in honor of the 70th Anniversary of the release of Casablanca, the film is being shown on the big screen one day only in theaters all over the country. That day is next Wednesday, March 21st. Just to remind you, Casablanca was top of the charts in the recent Spitler/Diskowski Greatest Films Poll. Nick C, Renee, and I are trying to get a massive group together to see the film. We are going to the Cinemark theater on Locust, in boo-ti-ful Walnut Creek. We are going to the seven o'clock showing. You are on your own for tickets, and I would advise you to snap them up quickly. We have six folks, already, but we want many many more. So get your tickets and get in touch w/ either Nick C or I. You can contact me through facebook message or mavis.mike@gmail.com. Hopefully, some of us can meet at Va Di Vi (or, as my Wife, Renee, likes to call it: Ba Da Bing) for Champagne and cocktails before the movie.
(With a serious tip of the cap to the late, great Blackie Sherrod.)
This post is a big random round up/notes column to tide me over until my (most prob) too long post about the next Pop Explosion is ready to be published. That should happen Sunday or Monday.
Until then, well:
I swear, in the Enron doc she's only wearing one earring.
... Since it is International Women's Day I figure I should throw out another Woman Michael Loves. Today it is another journalist, Bethany McLean. Ms McLean nearly single-handedly brought down those Enron assholes. She has a great article in this month's Vanity Fair about how a whole bunch of rich folks, hedge fund managers, and movie stars are co-opting and ruining a very sacred, difficult yoga discipline. Yeah, I know, a shocker ... So, my fantastico RomanVinity rep, Michele, who has been mentioned here before, obv dropped off a bottle sample of Verdicchio to me. I had completely forgot about it and it had been camped out in the back of our fridge for ages. I drug it out last night. It is amazing. I do not even know if it is approved for me to order and sell. There's no price on the bottle, either. I do not even know how much it costs. But it is superb, a white wine spilling over w/ baking spices and cardamom. Folks in Italy generally drink Verdicchio with seafood and shellfish. It can have a brine-y quality to it sometimes. There is no brine here. It is aromatic, lively, refreshing and perfect for North African or Indian food. Next time I get the chicken Tikka Masala at Breads of India this is the bottle I want. (Let me go get my reading glasses -- I am so old.) Accadio Angelo is the producer. It is 2010 vintage. I am guessing this bottle would prob be twenty dollars retail ...
The Dali-like image on the bottle is brought more forward now. And I am enjoying the 2010, not this 2008.
... The film, Anonymous, did not suck, at all, like I had expected it to. Of course, the splendid Rafe Spall's talents were nearly wasted in a small (but very important) role. Could someone please give this guy one shot at a lead role? I suppose he will be just like his superb character-acting Da, Timothy Spall. But, naturally, me being a theatre guy I would like Anonymous. We theatre-folk love that, "We were so oppressed, hated, vilified" bullshit. (Does not everyone? A chip on the shoulder moves mountains sometimes.) Do not get me wrong. The powers that be truly hate artists, always have. Look at the whole Fox News/Right-wing revulsion towards "Hollywood" ... Also saw recently Still Bill, a documentary about Bill Withers. It was not the greatest film I have ever seen, for sure. But, I did learn a bit more about Bill Withers and what a great man he is. Withers was born on the Fourth of July, and he is, for me, maybe the nicest, sweetest, most humble, most generous American alive. The fucking recording industry does not deserve a legend like him. I am so proud someone as talented and wonderful as Withers has decided to "retire". Withers, now, makes music strictly for himself, his family, and friends. Right on ... Yeah yeah I know I know, it is only v early March but Yu Darvish looked an absolute monster out there yesterday. I am loathe to link to gifs. I will not. But, I will give you a quote from today's AP round-up report:
"He had good stuff, great poise," Padres second baseman Orlando Hudson said, " ... Seven different pitches. It's hard enough to throw one pitch in the big leagues, man."
... Aw, hell. Everyone who is reading this knows that Michael prefers the company of women (h/t to Wire, 106 Beats That.) And all of you, all of you wonderful women that have meant something to me in the past, and that change and enrich my life every single day (especially you, Pnut, who made me grow up, finally) I would like to give a most humble thanks. (Thanks, Renee. And thanks, Mum.) It is all the English Roses, exes, cheese-mongers, wine reps, customer service clerks, movie stars, team leaders (thanks Annie & Lisa & Josie & Meghan), authors, rock stars, journalists, baristas, book store owners, nurses, etc, that make me who I am. I am so indebted to you.
All my love,
Michael David Spitler
(Here's the deal on that kissing sequence: At the time you could only kiss on screen for three seconds max. Hitchcock, who was madly in love with Ingrid Bergman (are we not all in love with her?) thought that was incredibly silly. So, he had Grant and Bergman do a four minute take of them together, where never once was a smooch longer than three seconds. Absolute genius. And, my goodness, Bergman has never been as sexy before as she is in this. Why is not that me on the patio? When I see those elbows raised I get a little bit excited. Bergman was an icon (a picture, a poster, an image, whathaveyou) but when you see her in action she is a living, breathing sexual Swedish adult that I wish I could have bumped in to at a party.
But it is worth checking out. Thomson talks about Ingrid Bergman, Humphrey Bogart, and in passing, near the end, Carey Mulligan.
Many people do not realize the level of contempt and hatred that Ms Bergman received from the United States after her affair with Rossellini. It was thick and nasty. They censured her on the floor of the US Senate, for crying out loud!
Remember that this is my personal ballot, and not the final compiled ballot that will be published in this space on 2/29/12.
As discussed in my previous entry on this list, No. 8: All About Eve (Mankiewicz), I have made a conscious decision to eschew what might be called, "show offy" or "artsy fartsy" picks for my ballot. Still, sitting here today, and getting further through my list, I am getting just the teensiest bit worried that my ballot is boring, too traditional.
Whatever. How can I say no to Casablanca, perhaps the finest distillation of Hollywood commerce and American art ever produced? Plus, like many of my other ballot choices the script is fantastic and infinitely quotable. And, the perfect Ms Ingrid Bergman is in it. This also allows me to finish including all three of my personal, "Holy Trinity" of movie stars: Barbara Stanwyck, Bette Davis, And Ms Bergman.
It is a miracle Casablanca was finished, at all, much less turn out a Masterpiece. There was so much meddling by the producers, the script was constantly doctored, and the actors themselves had no idea how the film would end until right up to shooting. But the Epstein Brothers, Julius and Phillip, somehow navigated every hair pin turn with their script, and got the thing brilliantly home at the finish line, apparently dreaming up the famous, "Round up the usual suspects," line simultaneously whilst driving to the lot. (The "beautiful friendship" line is believed to have been written by producer, Hal Wallis, and was dubbed by Bogart after the film had been wrapped.)
(It is a bit corny, and dated, but the Lauren Bacall hosted, making of documentary, You Must Remember This, is essential viewing for Casablanca zealots.)
We have to give due credit to director, Michael Curtiz, as well. Generally, whenever a bunch of old Hollywood studio types get together and talk about Curtiz, they can not seem to get past Curtiz' accent (he was born in Budapest) and his halting English. Curtiz is woefully under rated as a director, still. Curtiz did a masterful job of holding Casablanca together, too, and with cinematographer, Arthur Edeson, created a superb world of shadows and light that was perfect for the story and Bogart and Bergman's romance.
Honorable Mention, Michael Curtiz division: Captain Blood, Angels With Dirty Faces, The Adventures of Robin Hood, The Sea Hawk, and Mildred Pierce.
Top Seven moments, quotes, from Casablanca:
1. The La Marseillaise sequence, naturally. I still crank the sound up when this plays and still get goose bumps.
2. "I'm shocked, shocked to find that gambling is going on in here!" followed by, "Your winnings, Sir." This quote is a staple now for every single political blog in existence.
3. The almost one-hundred per cent European cast, including Ingrid Bergman, Paul Henreid, Peter Lorre, Claude Rains, Conrad Veidt, Sydney Greenstreet, Madeleine LeBeau, and the marvelous Marcel Dalio (star of two of Renoir's masterpieces: The Rules of the Game and Grand Illusion.) Dalio and LeBeau, both French, were briefly married.
4. The fact that this film and Bogart's legend have inspired two other v good films that I treasure: Play It Again Sam and Looking for Eric.
5. Ingrid Bergman's perfectly sculpted, exquisite, magical face.
6. "Are my eyes really brown?"
7. The sure-fire crowd applause moment that always happens right after "Round up the usual suspects."
Honorable Mention, Ingrid Bergman division: Under Capricorn, Notorious, Walpurgis Night, Swedenhielms Family, Intermezzo, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Gaslight, Spellbound, Stromboli, Indiscreet, Murder on the Orient Express, and Autumn Sonata. Despite being essentially blacklisted from working in Hollywood at the peak of her career, Ms Bergman still managed to be nominated for seven Oscars and won three. (Gaslight, Anastasia, and Murder on the Orient Express.)
Grace Kelly was one of the finest creatures to ever walk this globe, and a v decent actress, too. But it is plain to see that Ingrid Bergman was Hitch's v favorite blonde. Although all votes will be counted for Eva Marie Saint and Madeleine Carroll, as well.
The proof for my thesis is Rear Window, a film Grace Kelly starred in. The film is based upon the life stories of photographer, Robert Capa, and the actress/"model" he had an affair with, Ms Bergman. Hitch could not use Ms Bergman at the time, as she was currently "blacklisted", due to her affair and subsequent marriage to Roberto Rossellini.
(Plus, who knows if Ingrid would have done the film anyway, due to the extreme closeness of the subject matter. She was prob v comfortable, letting another actress play the role since she was not a jealous soul.)
This was Ms Bergman's 1938 Technicolor test for Intermezzo. She was twenty-three. My goodness! And then they shot Intermezzo in black and white?!
Everyone have a fantastic, splendorous Friday! Renee and I have a great date planned for tomorrow: We see The Trip at the Albany Twin and have dinner at Nizza la Bella.
In to the three amazing books I received for Xmas. I am the farthest along in The Last Boy, a biography of Mickey Mantle. Thank you, Mum & Da.
Eight Oscars, how many do you got?
Oh, Ingrid. Notorious, indeed.
Anna May Wong.
Renee gave me two books, both of the large coffee-table variety. I willn't link to the Edith Head book. You can see it advertised on TCM. The Edith Head book is ripe w/ lush, gorgeous photographs, natch. And I love that Head herself had such a distinctive style of her own. Stanwyck, no matter what studio she was working for, would be dressed by no one other than Head. And how can we not mention Bette Davis' "wardrobe malfunction" that made for one of Head's finest creations, the cut armpit dress that Davis wore in her legendary All About Eve party sequence. (And oh yeah, she designed Monroe's dress for that scene, too. [I am sorry, but Monroe was better in black and white, damnitt.]) Anyhoo, I am just aboot a quarter through that book. (Banton is a drunk wreck she's always apologizing for and she is finally on her own, beginning to make her name.)
The second book she gave me was by Will Friedwald, who writes about music for the Wall Street Journal, of all places, A Biographical Guide to the Great Jazz and Pop Singers. I have only read one entry. I started with Ella Fitzgerald. The book is comprehensive but written in the language and style of a layman such as I. It is a fabulous treat. Who knew I had owned the worst of the essential Fitzgerald songbooks, the Cole Porter one. I learned tout-suite when I bought the Rodgers & Hart songbook on iTunes. I am not sure I can describe the luxurious, blissful feeling I felt when I heard it at last. Or how thrilled I am when I listen to Lullabies of Birdland, with its' ice rink organ and Ella losing her mind at the mic.
I have only scratched the surface with Ella. Jeez, what happens when I hit Torme next? Or Sarah Vaughn? Or Holiday? Or, ...
