Oh the Humanity
I’m thinking about starting a regular video post here every Wednesday — sort of like what Mark Evanier does, only with 1/100th of his audience. It makes sense, since I come across so much intriguing stuff on YouTube and elsewhere. Today we have a clip from what many believe is the nadir of Peanuts specials, It’s Flashbeagle, Charlie Brown. Somebody thought it would be a good idea having a breakdancing Franklin and Snoopy outfitted in headband and leg warmers trolling the disco like sleazy Euro-gigolos. A thumping, generic song plays on the soundtrack, but I believe buried in the mix you can hear the sound of Charles M. Schulz turning in his grave … which is amazing considering he wouldn’t die for another sixteen years. Check it out.
Weekly Mishmash: November 9-15
The Bigamist (1953). I had modest expectations for this melodrama, among the earliest of Ida Lupino’s directorial efforts. Ida also stars, alongside Joan Fontaine and a solid Edmund O’Brien as the title character. The bigamy situation is actually handled with a lot of sensitivity, with good and sympathetic performances all around. If only O’Brien’s bigamy wasn’t revealed so early (and the movie had a different title), the film would have had much more effective dramatic thrust. I wonder how the Production Code handled this — adultery is a no-no, but apparently bigamy is okay? Hmmm.
Blow-Up (1966). I think this is the second or third viewing for me; the first for Christopher. One of my favorite movies from the ’60s. Antonioni’s exuberant stylishness makes up for the fact that the film doesn’t really go anywhere for long stretches at a time. Furthermore, every scene involving mimes is so embarrassing that it makes me wince just writing about them (I don’t know if they’re true mimes, since true mimes don’t talk. Discuss this important topic at your own leisure.). Despite that, this is a quintessentially sixties experience that everyone should have at least once. Let’s give it up for the scene where David Hemmings bullies around a bunch of fashion models:
Cagney by John McCabe. A book that I’ve had for a good ten years or so, but never got around to reading until now. Why? This is a definitive bio of one of my faves. McCabe does a good job of both illuminating Cagney’s onscreen performances and explaining all the complexities of his personality (if only he didn’t rely so much on long, long quotes). Cagney was a street kid who aspired to be a song and dance man like Fred Astaire, a faithful and loving husband who sequestered his two children in their own separate living quarters, and a famous actor who found his deepest fulfillment in farming. A very interesting man, I’d say.
The End of Suburbia (2004). Although scattershot and cheaply produced, this was a pretty good documentary on how American’s addiction to fossil fuels and the outdated concept of suburban living is slowly destroying our society. Although I enjoyed it, at times the film verged into territory of stereotypically liberal hysteria — which damaged its credibility. Even so, I couldn’t shake the central message that Americans will have to make some hard lifestyle sacrifices to even survive another 50 or 100 years. Uplifting, eh?
Janet Jackson — Control. Like Thriller, another classic goodie that I snagged on Amazon for a song (sorry, couldn’t resist). This album sits right where R&B music sounded appealingly ’80s without getting too obnoxious and New Jack Swingy. To be honest, I’m more interested in further exploring Miss Jackson’s obscure first two albums (1982’s Janet Jackson and 1984’s Dream Street) than any of the slick and mega successful stuff that followed.
The Visitor (2008). Absorbing film about an economics professor (Richard Jenkins) whose dull life is turned around by a young couple who are unknowingly squatting in his NYC apartment. I wasn’t surprised to find that Thomas McCartney wrote the screenplay and directed, since it shares a lyrical quality with his previous film, The Station Agent. What drives this film is a fantastically compelling story (we watched it in one sitting, rare for us) in which even the smallest characters resonate vividly. Richard Jenkins deserves an Oscar nomination, and I loved the attractive Haaz Sleiman as the Syrian musician who teaches Jenkins to loosen up.
Sanka Very Much
Recently I was delighted to get an email from one of my illustration heroes, José Cruz. It turns out that he runs an excellent blog, X-FACTOR-E, and is still doing artwork in that uniquely geometric style that first wowed me back in the in the ’80s. Check out his flickr photostream for examples. And, oh yeah, I want this print!
Here’s the 1972 Sanka coffee ad that Mr. Cruz inquired about. Thanks to him, I now know it’s the work of Charles E. White III. I just love this retro cartoony style.
Baby Baby, Ooh Baby Baby
The December Vanity Fair contains a fascinating oral history of Motown records — a good read for casual fans. It’s a bit sketchy for someone like me, but I did enjoy Annie Leibovitz’s accompanying photos of various Motown greats looking happy and relaxed. At the risk of sounding like a broken record, a fulfilling way to get into the pioneering label’s history would be to listen to everything they released chronologically on Hip-O Select’s Complete Motown Singles box sets. I just loaded up iTunes with all six discs from the 1965 volume, and hearing the big hits next to unfamiliar obscurities and weird forays into Country and Easy Listening really paints a vivid picture of where this one-of-a-kind company was at that particular time (Smokey Robinson was the man in ‘65).
Soda Review: Kickapoo Joy Juice
Manufactured by California-based Real Soda, Kickapoo Joy Juice is a citrusy concoction named after the potent brew from Al Capp’s classic Lil Abner comic strip. I was hoping that this would taste like a primitive version of Mountain Dew, a soda originally marketed with a similar hillbilly theme. In that respect, it didn’t disappoint. Although grapefruit juice numbers among this soda’s ingredients, the insanely sweet flavor ought to be classified more by color than by whatever food it resembles. Drinking it brought on a nostalgic memory of sipping acid green Mister Misty slushes at the local Dairy Queen. Yeah, they called the flavor “lime” but we all knew that the proper name for it was “green” and nothing else!
Weekly Mishmash: November 2-8
All the President’s Men (1976). Great movie that I’d never seen before. This was a remarkable view of the Watergate scandal from the media coverage side — which doesn’t tell the definitive story, but it is an illuminating angle nonetheless. Dustin Hoffman and Robert Redford truly drive the film as Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward. Aspiring journalists should check this out right away, and people who dig the look of 1970s office furniture (possibly only myself) will have a field day.
House by the River (1950). Dull Fritz Lang film about an aspiring writer from the early 1900s, played by Louis Hayward, who kills a household servant in a fit of passion. Hayward and his brother (Lee Bowman) spend the rest of the film trying to cover up the crime with middling results. Despite Lang’s directing credit, there was really nothing interesting or unusual about this movie — it plods along like a glorified TV drama, and Hayward is too over-the-top to make any lasting impact.
Point Blank (1967). One wild ride. I can see why this John Boorman-directed crime thriller is a bit of a cult item. The dazzling visuals and editing are ahead of their time, and Lee Marvin delivers a meaty performance as a stone-faced hit man driven to get his share of an unpaid debt. One thing that really popped about this film is the striking use of color, especially scenes where the set is mostly variants on one color. The apartment of Marvin’s ex-wife is nothing but white and silver, Angie Dickinson’s place is awash in yellow, while the office of the evil boss is nearly all olive green. At its core, this is a stylish but incomprehensible b-movie — but I’d have to agree with the IMDb reviewer who headlined his piece “Kind of confusing but exciting.”
Rick and Steve - The Complete First Season. This show, described as a gay South Park, was a pleasant surprise. It combines appealing, lego-like stop motion animation with primary colors and a smutty sense of humor. Episodes vary, but the scripts all have the know-how for mocking the stereotypes of LGBT life without wallowing in them. The second season premiere airs this week on the Logo channel. I wish I had the Logo channel.
Rollercoaster (1977). Somewhat fun, somewhat overlong thriller notable for being one of the few films (besides Earthquake) to use the very of-its-time gimmick of Sensurround. This movie is decidedly more low-key than the other ’70s disaster flicks, at times gaining a nice intensity missing from its campier brethren. Early on, there’s one good set piece with a coaster accident sending bloody dummies flying everywhere — after that it settles into a tired cat-and-mouse game with George Segal pursuing psycho bomber Timothy Bottoms. Scenes with the two tramping through Virginia’s Kings Dominion theme park play like a kinky version of that one Brady Bunch episode. The one where Mike’s architectural drawings got mixed up with Jan’s Yogi Bear poster, remember? I kept hoping one of the Bradys would pop up in the background somewhere.
Goldie, Liza and Matt — Together Again!
Okay, now that the election is over we have to go back to the really important issue at hand — namely, sharing goofy old TV clips. Today’s offering is the intro from 1980’s Goldie and Liza Together. I have dim memories of watching this at my aunt and uncle’s house, while the adults were outside having a patio party (I’m sure the parents would have had a conniption if they found out). Re-viewing the entire thing on YouTube makes me realize how nicely produced this particular special was. Goldie Hawn has a surprisingly good singing voice, and Liza Minnelli is her own fabulous self — two things that are very evident in the opening number alone:
Travel A Go-Go
Dive into the world of David Klein, illustrator of classic ’60s TWA travel posters and many other things (via Quartz City). Although Klein never settled on a particular style, it looks like he excelled at whatever look he wanted.
New Day
Wow, history in the making. Arianna Huffington’s election postmortem sums up how I feel right now. Elated, relieved, full of pride yet cautiously optimistic. Watching Obama’s victory speech last night was a truly moving experience. Very inclusive, but what impressed me most was his acknowledgment that it takes work — on everyone’s part — to have effective and long lasting change for the better. As it ended, I heard Christopher say with a choke in his voice that Michelle will make a great First Lady. He had tears in his eyes. That made up for the small disappointments on the Arizona side that our electoral college unsurprisingly picked McCain (albeit by a smallish margin), and the discriminatory Prop 102 passed.
So now what? I think I’m just gonna relax and follow some of Slate’s suggestions on how to kill time now that the election’s over.
Weekly Mishmash: October 26 - November 1
Chicago 10 (Independent Lens, PBS). Provocative 2007 documentary uses animation and newsreel footage to reconstruct the trial of the Chicago Seven, “Yippies” accused of inciting riots outside the 1968 Democratic National Convention. Except for the clumsy animation and obtrusive soundtrack, this was a well done film overall. I was amazed at how much news footage and/or home movies of the events the filmmakers found and weaved throughout the film. The scenes with self-absorbed lead Yippie Abbie Hoffman calling a radio deejay were a nice bonus.
Cop Hater (1958). Guess I was in a tawdry, low budget cop movie mood when this one showed up on Turner Classic Movies. Robert Loggia stars as a guy’s guy detective assigned to investigate a series of police slayings during New York City’s hottest summer. A standard plotline directed with all the panache of a live TV production, sure, but this movie has enough unusual elements to recommend it. For one, the hero’s girlfriend is a deaf mute, the serial killer aspect dates back early enough to be a novelty, and the heatwave setting requires most of the cast to lounge around in their skivvies. Real seedy (dig that poster!). The unfamiliarity of the cast is another real asset. A young and unknown Jerry Orbach just radiates grit as a teenage hood, for instance.
Michael Jackson — Thriller and Curtis Mayfield — Roots. Good week to take advantage of competing mp3 download services — iTunes proffered Thriller for only $4.98, while the 99 cent Roots was worth taking a chance over at Amazon. I’ve never heard Thriller before, since the album’s still jaw-dropping seven hit singles had already burned on my brain for a good 25 years. It’s a solid piece; even the two lesser known LP cuts (”Lady In My Life” and “Baby Be Mine”) are competent bits of early ’80s smooth R&B. But it’s the magnificently claustrophobic “Billie Jean,” the rockin’ “Beat It,” the smooth “Human Nature,” the funky “P.Y.T.” and the epic title tune that make it an album for the ages (”The Girl Is Mine” I can take or leave). Curtis Mayfield’s second album, 1971’s Roots, was another delight. Although the tracks tend to run a bit long, the entire album is suffused with a warm and cautiously optimistic “black is beautiful” spirit.
The Two Faces of Dr. Jekyll (1960) and Curse of the Mummy’s Tomb (1964). Two Hammer horror films from the early ’60s, both filled with gorgeous color photography and horrid acting, made for our Halloween entertainment. Two Faces was the slightly better of the two, with a barely adequate Paul Massie doing an unusual take on Jekyll/Hyde (Dr. Jekyll is a hiristute dullard, while Mr. Hyde is a clean-shaven and magnetic stud). Faring better were Dawn Addams as a fetching Mrs. Jekyll and a surprisingly sexy Christopher Lee as her wastrel paramour. Lots of dull padding weighs down this movie, but I was transfixed by the totally artificial Victorian London revealed in the film’s wild photography, costumes and sets. The hokey Curse of the Mummy’s Tomb had nothing at all to recommend it.
Vigil in the Night (1940). The one with Carole Lombard as a nurse trying to make do in a horrible British hospital. She comes across moderately well, often succumbing to the same Excess Nobility Disease that afflicted Norma Shearer in The Women. Character actress Ethel Griffies, strong as Lombard’s nurse matron, wound up making a memorable appearance as a bird expert in Hitchcock’s The Birds 23 years later.
Mod, Mod Monsters
Happy Halloween — as good a time as any to give props to the cult Rankin-Bass stop motion feature Mad Monster Party, doncha think? For all its spooky mystique, however, this movie is actually kind of dull (Boris Karloff and Phyllis Diller give their all in the voice department). Perhaps the best part of the movie is the opening credits — did you know Mad magazine’s Jack Davis designed the creatures? The lovely title song sung by jazz singer Ethel Ennis sounds like a lost James Bond theme, only … Halloweeny. Listen to Ethel without competing sound effects here.
Bama Bama Bo Bama
Obama’s infomercial might have been too slick and manipulative, but it reminds me that very few politicians can be called “inspiring.” I can’t believe we might actually have a calm, rational, statesmanlike president. We’ve already sent in our early ballots and made the right choice.
As far as campaign ads go, I much prefer this:
Putting the ‘M’ Back in MTV
What do you think of MTV Music, the brand spankin’ new Hulu-style database of music videos from the channel’s glory years? I think I’m going to spend much too much time rooting around that site. One can search hundreds of videos by artist, title, or director (thanks to Ironic Sans for that tip!). Just tonight I burned up several minutes watching this, this, this, this, and this — all examples of that “film a bunch of models in grainy Super 8″ style that was briefly hot in the ’80s. I vaguely remember reading in Rolling Stone about a married couple (Paula Greif and Richard Levine) that was responsible for many videos of that ilk.
New Order’s “Round and Round” is one of my favorites from that era, the kinda thing that made you glad that you stayed up late for 120 Minutes for once. As it turns out, one Paula Greif directed it. Honestly, from a 2008 vantage point the idea of juxtaposing b&w footage of models just sitting there with brief flashes of colorful flowers and marbles seems pretty goofy, but back then it was the coolest:
Let’s Hear It for Generic Scientist Guy
About the nifty sculpture below: we drive by this all the time. It’s located in downtown Phoenix’s Encanto Park, surrounded by a grove of Italian cypresses that threaten to grow over the poor guy. It always fascinated me, but I’ve never actually gone out to look at it up close until now. Although it was erected in 1957, the simplified man in the laboratory coat has more of an optimistic ’30s feel. Very appealing.
The inscription on the base reads” “World Progress Through Scientific Research In The Laboratory. Designed in fulfillment of the wishes of the donor and given to the city of Phoenix by Helen B. Rogers, 1957. Charles Badger Martin, sculptor.” I haven’t been able to find much info on either Rogers or Martin.
Weekly Mishmash: October 19-25
Before getting to the weekly mishmashery, I need to spotlight a couple of links that I meant to post about earlier this week — but never did (this seems to be a recurring pattern here at Scrubbles.net). First is a neato collection of vintage Peanuts animation commented on by Cartoon Brew’s Jerry Beck. The post also links to the clips — the trailer for You’re A Good Man Charlie Brown, an intro to The Tennessee Ernie Ford Show, and a preview of the 1961 Fords — without commentary. I love this stuff; your mileage may vary!
My second must-see is Mark Simonson’s post about the accuracy of vintage typefaces and props used in the first season of Mad Men. A fascinating examination of a beautifully produced show that — heresy alert! — I’ve never really warmed up to.
On to the mishmash:
Various — The Complete Motown Singles, Vol. 7: 1967. When Mom and Dad gave me a nice big Amazon.com gift certificate for my fortieth birthday, I immediately went online and placed an order for a volume of this wonderful but expensive CD series produced by Hip-O Select. After hearing all 120 songs on five discs, I can now confidently say that 1967 was my favorite vintage Motown year. This was the time when Marvin Gaye first duetted with Tammi Terrell, Stevie Wonder was emerging as a major talent, The Temptations were coming on strong under producer Norman Whitfield, and The Supremes went glam-tastic with “The Happening” and the quasi-psych masterpiece, “Reflections.” It’s also the year of some of the most underrated songs Motown ever put out — The Marvelettes’ “When You’re Young And In Love,” The Four Tops’ “7 Rooms Of Gloom,” Martha Reeves & The Vandellas’ “Honey Chile.” Surprisingly, many of the b-sides presented are as good as the flip sides. Here’s where the non-soul oddities that blemished the earlier volumes are ironed away: 1967 Motown was truly a nonstop hit producing machine. Fantastic stuff!
Iron Man (2008). This movie got mostly good reviews when it came out, didn’t it? Alas, both of us were pretty underwhelmed by the DVD. On the plus side, Robert Downey Jr. deserves all the credit for shaping the character of Tony Stark into something more than a teenage boy’s pastiche of a perfect man (filthy rich, gadget geek, and chick magnet!). On the minus side, this movie was awfully dumb and leaves an impression that’s distinctly more Transformers than Dark Knight. The usually reliable Gwyneth Paltrow and Jeff Bridges were both pallid as love interest and adversary, and for that I blame an uncompelling script. I know that superhero films require much suspension of disbelief, but this sports one too many “oh, come on” moments to count. Hopefully the inevitable next film in the franchise will improve.
Prix de Beauté (1930). This French melodrama, filmed as a silent but dubbed in with a soundtrack for release, would be a minor footnote of a film if it wasn’t the final starring vehicle for the comely Louise Brooks. She’s the whole show here, playing a young woman who enters a beauty contest against her boyfriend’s wishes — suffering the consequences when she wins the title of Miss Europe. The storyline is nothing special, leaving one to notice the director’s odd fascination with crowds and mechanical objects (really, this movie is practically a love letter to the linotype machine). Brooks is startlingly modern in her trademark helmet hairdo and a variety of simple casual wear ensembles. She does her best in a boring story that turns unexpectedly potent in the final ten minutes.
That Darn Cat! (1965). Despite being somewhat long and slapsticky, this is the pinnacle of ’60s live action Disney. Should be an object study on how to make family-friendly films that appeal to both adults and children. And Hayley Mills? Cute as a button.
