Linkboy

Guardian an "intimate" Q & A with the one and only Hilary Swank. Admit it: you want to know how often she has sex and what her most embarrassing moment was.
<--- ExpressUK talks to Lucy Punch whose career has apparently been reheated by playing that golddigging bimbo in You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger last year.
Movie|Line offers up suggestions for replacing Darren Aronofsky on The Wolverine. I do vaguely like the Andy and Lana Wachowski suggestion. The others, not so much.
The Playlist Joseph Gordon-Levitt will play The Holiday Killer in The Dark Knight Rises (2012). That'll mean something to some of you but for me it's the first Bat villain from a movie that I'd never heard of prior to the movie.
Every Film in 2011 Just like it sounds. Hats off (but maybe straightjacket on?) to this UK guy Neil White who is going to review every film released in the calendar year. Insanity! He's already to #105 (The Adjustment Bureau).
Orlando Sentinel here's a charitable movie promotion: Disney is encourage potential young Tangled customers to get their hair cut. The locks go to making hairpieces for those suffering from medical hair loss.

One of my friends asked if I wanted to see [lists four movies] yesterday. I say 'I'll see any of those but Paul.' My friend is all "oh, right. You hate geek things." Total misconception! So many people think this about me so I feel defensive. Not true. loves geeky things. I just have a weird ambivalence about fanboy culture because it's too narrow/noisy. I love superheroes and sci-fi and such but how you gonna live on only one to three genres? Why limit yourself? If you're not also taking in classic cinema, Almodóvar, serious actressing, arthouse, silent film, talky dramas, and other genres you're going to die of artistic malnutrition! So I say "Ugh, stop it. I do so love geek things. But Paul? Seth Rogen voicing a CGI alien?"

[Diesel Sweeties]

For what it's worth I ended up at Rango finally. Y'all were right to push me in that direction. In case you aren't aware, the "Reviews" on the banner will take you to an index of movies seen and screening log and when I've reviewed something the link itself. I'm behind so I'll need to do capsules soon.

Off Cinema Diversions
Towleroad photos of last night's super moon. It was just blinding and beautiful here in NYC. Were any of you killed by werewolves?
Warren Ellis issued a challenge to his readers to remake/remodel The Fantastic Four. Super fun illustrations followed. They don't mention it in the thread but 2011 (November to be precise) marks the 50th anniversary of the cosmic ray mutated superfamily. Too bad the film version was so terrible.
Spiegel Knut the famous polar bear has died.
The Awl answers the question "What is a Rebecca Black?" in case you noticed that name clogging up your twitter feed and facebook wall this past week.
Vulture has a funny "dos and don'ts" for making your own Friday style viral hit. Warning: Disturbingly homogeneous Teen Girl emerges! I haven't been a teenager in a long time but I remember there being more than one kind. I mean there's even several different types on Glee each week.
Antenna offers an informative primer on all sorts of things going down with Netflix, Google, MPAA, NPR if you, like Nathaniel, find the behind the scenes of  media-internet-showbiz occassionally confusing / disorienting.

Take Three: Gloria Grahame

Craig here with Take Three. Today: Gloria Grahame.

Take One: The Big Heat (1953)
When you think of Film Noir, you think of hard-boiled anti-heroes in fedoras, smoking, permanently with gun. But in some noirs it’s ladies first. Fritz Lang’s dirty, masterful noir par excellence The Big Heat has a first-rate femme fatale in Grahame’s Debby Marsh. Thank 20th Century Fox for replacement pleasures then: Grahame stepped in when original pick Marilyn Monroe’s fee became too high, giving the the film an extra sprinkling of salty sass. She excelled in each moment, whether heartfelt or hardened; I can only hazard a guess that Monroe might have made Debby’s eventual desperation too pleading. Under Grahame’s control Debby’s desperate dilemma was frenetic and wrenching. Never has the rapid flush of devastation been so well conveyed on screen as when she runs to Glenn Ford’s apartment to beg for cover.

Grahame’s transformation, from carefree nonchalance to scornful grittiness is more readily noticeable after a second viewing of the film. Indeed, The Big Heat deserves two watches for Grahame’s performance alone. She flips drastically in a scene wherein Lee Marvin (as Vince, her criminal beau) throws hot coffee in her face. It occurs off screen and we are withheld the image of her scarred visage until... well, let’s say she gets her revenge in an apt way. But her face, now fuelled with anger and half covered with bandages, tells us everything we need to know about what she’s thinking. It’s a beautifully judged and performance. No wonder Stephen Frears insisted on her influence for his Grifters ladies. Grahame had the film’s best line too. “Hey, that's nice perfume.” Vince says. “Something new,” Debby replies, “it attracts mosquitoes and repels men.”

Take Two: In a Lonely Place (1950)

As with The Big Heat, Grahame wasn’t the first choice for Nicholas Ray’s 1950 masterpiece In a Lonely Place. She was third in line to play Laurel Gray. This being a Humphrey Bogart film, the obvious choice at the time would have been Bogart’s wife, Lauren Bacall. But, under contract, Warner Bros. refused to loan Bacall out; Ray, who was married to Grahame (though they subsequently separated during filming) managed to get her cast over Ginger Rogers, too.

Laurel Gray is a struggling actress, living across the courtyard in an adjacent apartment to Dixon Steele (Bogart). In fact, this is how she comes to be embroiled in his affairs and ends up falling in love with him. We see her go from cool, aloof social gal to a woman in dire need of a supportive shoulder to spill her woes to; "is-he-isn’t-he a killer?" conundrums are tough to sort out. Grahame takes obvious pleasure in the spiky moments of dialogue between herself and Bogart, leaving the air in recently-vacated spaces pungent with tease. Referring to Bogart’s face she says

I said I liked it. I didn’t say I wanted to kiss it.

Off she walks, daring us to scuttle after her.

Her performance gives way to darker edges as the plot sinks further into muddy emotional territory, but throughout the entire film Grahame is on full actressing alert. Her last lines find their way out of her conscience at the close. “I lived a few weeks while you loved me...” She adds a sad “Goodbye Dix” at the end. In a lonely place, indeed.

Take Three: Crossfire (1947)

Grahame’s is the first name after the title in Crossfire, but she shares the screen caption with four others, a trio of Roberts: Mitchum, Young and Ryan, aptly sounding like a private detective firm. The Roberts³ head this 1947 noir from Edward Dmytryk. Grahame only really has two scenes in the film. But what a pair of scenes. Each is nearly ten minutes long and crucial to the plot. She dominates both with a characteristically captivating allure, leaving us wanting at least another half dozen more. We first see her emerge from a blurred dissolve: she enters the film as she enters the recollection of Ryan’s soldier. She’s in the Red Dragon, the “stinking gin mill” out of which she procures her men folk. She’s Ginny “because [she’s] from Virginia”, lit by cinematographer J. Roy Hunt as a seductive blonde vapour, only her showy attributes are spotlit: the hard glint in her eyes matches the gleam from her bling.

It’s her second scene, much later in the film, where she gives good talk to match the face. It’s surely the scene that earned her the Supporting Actress Oscar nomination (she would win the award in The Bad and the Beautiful five years later). The shimmy has dimmed - she’s dowdy in a housedress - but she's no less captivating. Here we see another side to Grahame, a defiant irritation, as Ginny is questioned on Ryan’s whereabouts the night of the anti-Semitic murder that propels the narrative. Dmytryk’s camera searches her for the answers the plot demands. Grahame’s greatness in the role becomes all the more evident because of this scrutiny.

Three more key films for the taking: The Bad and the Beautiful (1952), Oklahoma! (1955), Human Desire (1954)

Overheard: 'Princess Anne'

Two middle aged white ladies on the subway.

Lady #1: She's so pretty. Did you know she could sing, too?
Lady #2: I know. I totally didn't but there she was singing. She's so talented.
Lady #1: I watched Princess Diaries last night.
Lady #2: [Excited] Ohhhh, I want to see that!

I know this isn't truly much of an overheard but given the thrill of discovery in Lady #2's voice I couldn't help but chuckle. The last line was uttered like The Princess Diaries was a new box office champ, unseating Rango from its perch. What is this Princess Diaries everyone is talking about? Better get on that before it leaves theaters and there's that interminable wait before VHS!

I kid. I kid. I love all peoples who talk about movies on the subway. They delight me.  If I were a cartoon my eyes would pop open and my ears would fan out comically to absorb every word. I wish subways weren't so goddamn noisy! Maybe I missed some deep analysis of Rachel Getting Married shout outs to Ella Enchanted ?

Day of Rest

Shhhhhhhhhhhh....

I'm in an emotionally abusive relationship with my blog (it's Rourke / I'm Basinger) and we're both exhausted. Be back in Nine ½ Hours... or, okay, more like 15 hours. Need lots of beauty sleep.

Mix Tape: "The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze" in It Happened One Night

Andreas from Pussy Goes Grrr here, to talk about an impromptu musical number that doubles as a historical document. Frank Capra’s Oscar-sweeping screwball comedy It Happened One Night is naturally best remembered for the cute love story that unfolds (over the course of several nights) between stars Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert.

However, it’s also something of a postapocalyptic travelogue, since the odd couple’s odyssey by bus up the East Coast gives them a panoramic view of a nation debilitated by the Depression. They run into purse snatchers, con men, starving children, and crowds of poor families forced together by poverty. For Colbert’s spoiled heiress, it’s a shocking glimpse of how the other half lives. But the world she discovers is not all negative: the bus’s passengers comprise a makeshift community, and it’s one that loves to sing.

So while the bus chugs along, a band suddenly forms in the back—complete with fiddle, guitar, and vocalist—and, apropos nothing, starts playing the decades-old standard “The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze.” Soon the whole bus joins in on the chorus, and individual passengers stand up to sing the verses alone. Out of nowhere, a form of communal vaudeville springs up, a show-within-a-show that Gable and Colbert watch with delight.

Everyone gets a chance to shine, including a mincing sailor who gives a lurid emphasis to the line “His eyes would undress every girl in the house!” (It’s a surprisingly bawdy song for such a public performance, but no one seems to notice or care.) The film’s main plot continues during the song courtesy of clever editing, as close-ups on the sleazy Shapely and the distracted bus driver appear alongside wide shots of all the other passengers with the band as their focal point. But this is decidedly a detour, albeit a spectacular one, from the fugitive couple’s episodic progress; it’s a sequence more about setting and the nature of Depression-era bus travel than about plot.

This spell of utter mirth ends, of course, with a minor tragedy, as the bus careens into a muddy ditch. Soon thereafter, Gable and Colbert lose the rest of their money and have to leave the bus for good due to Shapely’s half-baked scheming. But that spur-of-the-moment musical number is still a chance for bonding, as the sheer cuteness of the passengers’ singing cuts through the main characters’ lingering cynicism and world-weariness. (Gable even gets in on the act, passing a flask around to some dancing fellow travelers.)

Maybe it’s an American instinct to respond to times of crisis by putting on a show. Or maybe this is just a manifestation of the cliché that poor people are happier and have an easier time cutting loose—the same one witnessed in Titanic when Rose goes below decks to dance a polka away from her stultifying society friends. (Or in My Man Godfrey, or Holiday, or any number of other Depression-era comedies.) Cliché or not, though, the scene in It Happened One Night feels so alive and strangely naturalistic despite its improbability, because the sailor and all the other participants bring such enthusiasm to their performances. For these few minutes, money and class are meaningless: all that matters is the music.

(Trivia time: the guitarist in this scene is Ken Carson, who would later join the band Sons of the Pioneers. With them, he helped record the theme song for The Searchers and the song “Tumbling Tumbleweeds,” later used in the opening of The Big Lebowski.)