picsandpans

Defending Your Life

2012-01-18T15:32:00.007-06:00

New Year. New movie. Actually, new old movie. It’s called, Defending Your Life, and unlike most of the films you'll read about here, this one was mainstreamed in a Woody Allen kind of way.

I was reminded of this film when I read that Albert Brooks was getting some Oscar buzz for his sobering and totally against-type performance as mobster Bernie Rose in Drive.

Long known for his comedic sensibility, Brooks, whose real name is Albert Einstein, wrote directed and starred in Defending Your Life. To my mind, it’s one of the best afterlife comedies out there, and there are a bunch of them.

Over the years Brooks' body of work has been under-appreciated and overlooked at awards time; the industry passing over his and other comedies that deserved to be recognized in favor of more serious fare. This has always puzzled me, as if anyone should know how hard it is to make a truly funny film, it's a filmmaker.

Why? Because ‘Funny’ is no laughing matter. You're either born with the funny gene, or you're not, Knowing what works, and what doesn't is instinctive, as is timing and delivery. Just ask Neil Simon, who built a whole scene around the subject in 1975’s The Sunshine Boys. Who can forget ex-vaudevillian Willie Clark explaining “funny” to his agent nephew?

Words with a 'K' in it are funny.
Alka-Seltzer is funny.
Chicken is funny. Pickle is funny. All with a 'K'.
L's are not funny. M’s are not funny.
Cupcake is funny.

And Brooks is funny, whether he’s writing, directing or acting in one of his or anyone else's comedies.

Defending Your Life is one of, if not his best. The dialogue, you should excuse the expression, is dead on, the casting, made in heaven, including the so-called "bit" players, and a surprise cameo by – well, if I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise.

What I can tell you is that it’s the story of an average Joe named Daniel Miller who hasn't lived up to his mother’s, ex-wife’s or own expectations, although he’s making what many would consider to be a good living. How good? Good enough to buy himself a BMW convertible for his birthday. Maybe not the top of the line model, but a BMW none-the-less.

We meet him in the conference room of the ad agency where, after thanking his co-workers for their gifts and birthday wishes, he picks up his new ride and takes it out for a spin. Popping Barbra Streisand’s Broadway album into the car’s CD player, he is soon singing along with Babs as she belts out West Side Story’s “Something’s Coming.”

That “something” turns out to be a bus, and before Daniel can say, “What the..?” our boy has kissed today good-bye and jettisoned from L.A. to Judgment City, where, dazed and confused, he is shuttled to the Continental: a no frills hotel that, were it not for a few signs here and there (i.e. “Welcome Kiwanis Dead”), could be mistaken for a down-to-earth Holiday Inn.

Is Judgment City Brooks’ idea of Heaven? Not exactly. More like a way station that, like the Continental, looks comfortably familiar. But, as someone once said, looks can be deceiving, and it doesn't take long for Daniel to figure out that he’s not in Kansas (well, L.A.), any more.

The good news? Being dead isn't half bad. Nothing hurts, everything’s free, there’s plenty to see and do and the food is fantastic. Better yet, you can eat all you want and not get fat―if you can find the time to eat it, because the bad news is, you're going to be pretty busy defending your life.

Brooks’ version of the hereafter Is devoid of any religious references or connotations. There are no cherubs relaxing on clouds, no devils or angels, no Higher Power. In his world, life-after-life is a process, and Judgment City is one of several processing centers in the universe, responsible for examining the lives of half of the United States’ newly deceased (some 2,500 souls) a day.

Its court system is a well-oiled machine, designed not to convict or punish, but to weed out the fearful and elevate the fearless. Daniel, like all new arrivals, must prove to the court that in life, he not only conquered his fears but learned from them, for, as his court-appointed attorney, Bob Diamond explains, fear is like "a giant fog that sits on your brain and blocks everything: real feelings, true happiness, and real joy." If you haven't faced your fears, you can't move on. And if you can't move on, you have to head back to earth for another go. It's the old "If at first you don't succeed" thing.

Daniel: So what do you do? Do you just keep going back until you get it right?

Diamond: Well, you don't keep going back. Eventually they throw you away.

Daniel: Have I been to earth before?

Diamond: Oh yeah.

Daniel: How many times?

Diamond: Approaching twenty.

Daniel: Is that a lot?

Diamond: I was there six.

Daniel: Oh my God. So I'm the dunce of the universe.

Diamond: Don't be silly. We have people who have been there a hundred times. I wouldn't want to hang out with any of them, but I've seen them.

And so it goes. The banter was never better.

Bob Diamond, as played with great panache by Rip Torn, is a bundle of contradictions: one moment the gregarious upbeat and jovial cheerleader, the next, a pompous and condescending elitist who seems to relish pointing out Daniel’s inadequacies. It’s easy to do, given the fact that Diamond uses between 48% of his brain, while Daniel, like all new arrivals or “little brains”,uses only 3%-to-5% of his.

After flipping through Daniel's file, Diamond realizes that he'll need every kilowatt of his brainpower to prove that his client is ready to move on. It doesn't help that he'll be facing Lena Foster in court, a hard-as-nails prosecutor hell-bent on winning. "We call her 'the dragon lady'" he tells his wary charge, as he lays out the trial's when, where, why's and wherefores of what lies ahead.

After a bunch of lunch, Diamond urges his client to forget his troubles, come on, get happy, and head into town for a little R&R. A poster in the hotel's elevator prompts Daniel to visit The Bomb Shelter, "Judgment City's oldest comedy club", where he meets and falls instantly in love with another newbee by the name of Julia.

As played by Meryl Streep, Julia is everything Daniel is not, she is confident, light hearted, warm, generous, heroic and adored by all, including her attorney, prosecutor and the judges who will be deciding her fate. That she is as crazy about Daniel as he is of her is somewhat of a puzzlement, but what the heck ―it’s a movie, and he’s kind of lovable in a sweetly neurotic kind of way.

Their courtship provides Brooks-the-writer with numerous opportunities to get Daniel out of the courtroom and into the city, for a visit to the Past Lives Pavilion ("Where you see some of the people you've been before"), dinner at Italian restaurant with the longest spaghetti in recorded history, and a look inside the Majestic,Julia’s four-star hotel.

Even a little brain like Daniel can see that the Continental bares little resemblance to the Majestic, where they serve caviar and champagne “in the blue room” and place little chocolate swans on your pillow when they turn down your covers for the night. Where are you staying?” asks Julia innocently. “The Continental”, he replies. “Come over and we'll paint it.”

As time goes on, it becomes even more apparent to Daniel that theirs is an ill-fated romance, for while Julia is all but assured of moving ahead, he will most certainly be heading back to the future. But hey, it’s a comedy, which means there’s a good chance that despite the odds, the star-crossed lovers will ‘live’ happily ever after in the everafter.

If the ending comes as no surprise, the stops along the way will. Defending Your Life is loaded with ridiculously witty and incredibly clever quips, signs, business and banter that will keep you smiling to the very end.

SIDEBAR:
In the film's comedy club sequence, the resident comic― who is bombing big-time, tries to engage the audience with a little interaction. His questions ("How long were you in a coma?" and "How do you like Judgment City so far?") reminded me of pick-up lines, each being the hereafter equivelant to "What's your sign?" Spotting Daniel – who is, by far, one of the younger members in the crowd, he asks the inevitable question― "How'd you die?" Daniel's response: "On stage, like you."

In real life, Brook’s dad, comedian Harry Parke―known to radio listeners as Greek Restaurant Owner Parkyakarkus (park your carcass) on the Eddie Cantor Show, literally died on stage at a Friar’s Club roast for Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz in 1958. After finishing his routine, he sat back in his seat, suffered a fatal heart attack, and slumped over into Milton Berle’s lap. Realizing that something was terribly wrong, Berle asked if there was a doctor in the house. Thinking it was part of the act, the audience laughed at what they believed was the punch line. It was only after Berle made a second frantic plea that two physicians raced to the stage, but were unable to revive the fallen comedian.

2011-12-18T00:56:00.001-06:00

JOYEUX NOEL

2011-12-17T23:01:00.000-06:00

A Different Kind of Christmas Classic

At this time of year, the television networks are filled with holiday specials and Christmas films: much-loved staples like White Christmas and Holiday Inn, It’s a Wonderful Life and Miracle On 34th Street. My personal favorite is the Barbara Stanwyck/Dennis Morgan classic, Christmas In Connecticut. It was on TCM recently and I watched it for what must be the 20th time. It’s a perfect Christmas confection, its plot totally implausible, but magical none-the-less.

Over the years several more films have joined the holiday classics club, from 1983’s A Christmas Story to Home Alone, Love Actually (another favorite of mine), and The Holiday, featuring Cameron Diaz, Kate Winslet Jack Black and Jude Law, giving a particularly (don’t cringe), sweet performance. But if you’d like something with a little more substance, I suggest you look into a terrific 2005 French film called Joyeux Noel (Merry Christmas).

Written and directed by Christian Carion, it is the fictional tale of a 1914 Christmas truce five months into World War I. Drawn from a variety of factual accounts, letters, speeches and documents, it is both thrilling and chilling, powerful and poignant.

Unlike most wartime movies, Joyeux Noel is devoid of bloody carnage, high action sequences, rough language and Patton-like bravado. It is, rather, a film about the men who fought the war, the generals who presided over it, the loved ones who feared it, and the truce that held it at bay.

The opening sequences of the film give the viewer a stylized picture of the years preceding what we would come to know as "he Great War" as European schoolboys recite poems and platitudes of hatred aimed at other European nations. Lifted directly from government pamphlets and periodicals of the period, these unsettling recitations give us an idea of how these children were indoctrinated and primed for a war that was as much as twenty years away. An 1895 newsletter from one minister of education dictates that boys over the eight learn to shoot a Lebel rifle on the playground, armed with real bullets. This militarization of children had its effect. By the time they were old enough to fight, they were enthusiastically lining up to enlist.

On the DVD’s commentary track, we are told that the number of enlisted men in the early day of the war swelled to the point where the army could no longer properly train and prepare them for war. Within a month, nearly half of those who had volunteered were dead.

From this prologue we are transported high above a long and winding road to a small Anglican church deep within the Scottish Highlands, where news of the war is fresh, and response, immediate. As the local parish priest looks on, a young man of eighteen or nineteen, races into the church to share the news with his younger brother. All three will soon leave the safety of their village for life on the Western Front, where all too soon the good father will pray over one of the boy’s lifeless bodies. From this brief sequence, we understand that war knows no bounds or boundaries. It is, by all accounts, an equal opportunity destroyer.

In a blink we find ourselves in the opulent Berlin Opera House, where the celebrated Danish soprano Anna Sorensen (Diane Kruger) is singing before a packed house. As her lover and co-star, tenor Nikolaus Sprink (Benno Furmann) waits in the wings, a German officer interrupts the concert to announce that war has been declared. Within moments the crowd has dispersed, and the lives of everyone in the hall, including the soprano and her tenor, have changed forever.

Five months pass. It is December 24th―Christmas Eve, 1914. We are on the Western Front, somewhere between Ostend, Belgium and Basel, Switzerland, where working farms―still unscathed by the ravages of war, dot the landscape.

Over the course of the film we will learn more about the men who inhabit the trenches of this no man’s land, from the Anglican priest and his two young parishioners, to a French lieutenant who had to leave his pregnant wife five months into a difficult pregnancy. He lives in a state of limbo, not knowing whether she survived the birth, or if he has a son or daughter. We’ll meet a Military father whose view of the war is very different than that of his soldier son, a Jewish soldier who will be warmed by the spirit of Christmas and a young man who will risk his life for a cup of coffee with his mother. These men, along with Nicholas and Anna, guide the film on an emotional journey ranging from exhilaration to distress, comfort to anger, and helplessness to hope. It is Anna, the only woman in the piece with any real dialogue, who represents the families and friends who watch, worry and pray for their loved one’s safe return.

As seen through the cinematographer’s lens, the battlefield is as intimate as it is foreboding, the area so small, you can easily walk from one trench to another other. As Christmas approaches, the battlefield is silent. Were it not for the snow-covered bodies of fallen soldiers lying in wait to be retrieved and buried at battle’s end, this star-studded night would be quite lovely.

The spirit of Christmas is not lost on these men. In the German trench, presents from home are passed around, and traditional holiday carols fill the air. The tenor, back from an ill-conceived concert for the Germany’s kronprinz, sings a stirring version of "Silent Night" for his fellow soldiers. It is a song all of Europe knows well, and as his voice waifs across the battlefield, it cannot help but warm the hearts of those in the French and Scottish trenches.

In the distance, there is the sound of gunfire, and sudden sparks of light, but here, in this place, at this time a silent night turns holy, as slowly but surely, the French, German and Scottish lieutenants lay down their rifles and come together in the center of the battlefield.

“I’m French.”
“I’m German.”
“I’m Scottish, not British” says another.
“Do you speak English?”
“Yes” replies the German. “A little.”

And so begins this dance – this fragile truce, and the chance set the war aside, if only for a little while.

“We’re talking about a ceasefire for Christmas Eve,” says one lieutenant. “What do you think? The outcome of this war won’t be decided tonight. I don’t think anyone will criticize us for laying down our rifles on Christmas Eve.”

Of course, he is wrong. There will be those who look upon this coming together as treasonous. But the men themselves will have no shame or regrets.

Were this another time, place or war, the very idea of such a truce would have been unthinkable. But this was 1914. The war had just begun, and memories of home were still fresh in these yet-to-be-hardened soldier’s minds. They were alone. The area was contained. They were, in some respects, suspended in time. News to and from the front was delivered by messenger, allowing them to pause without fear of being disbanded or reprimanded by their war room generals.

And so we see them come together, sharing a joke, a toast and a song, confiding their hopes and dreams, and admiring photos of wives and children left behind. Before the night is through, they will eat German chocolates, down Scottish mussels and drink French champagne. Returning to their trenches, they leave with a new regard for the men they will soon face in battle.

While, as the two lovers, Kruger and Furmann share the most screen time, there is little doubt that Joyeux Noel is an ensemble piece: a story of many stories based on real people and events. Most are told through brief conversations and visual cues. There are no long soliloquies. No lengthy revelations. No major character studies. Much of what we learn we learn through small bits and pieces of information: a sentence here, a close-up there.

Carion’s decision to cast actors who share the same nationality as their character’s was a bold but rewarding one. It certainly would have been easier to have had everyone speak the same language, adding an accent as needed. But you lose something when you do that. Only die-hard fans could ignore the fact that Sean Connery’s Russian Captain spoke with a decidedly Scottish accent in Hunt for Red October, or that Tom Cruises’ German Lieutenant in Valkyrie sounded like he was born and raised in Syracuse, New York.

In casting Germans as Germans, Frenchmen as Frenchmen, and Scots as Scots, Carion infused an authenticity into the film. But at the same time, his decision to do so no doubt cost him some ticket sales, as there are some people (you may be one of them) who are put off by subtitles. And when you have people speaking different languages within a film, there’s no way around them. So consider yourself forewarned. Unless you are fluent in English, French and German, you’re going to need them and read them. But dealing with subtitles is a small price to pay for the rewards. So put on your readers and enjoy the show. And take advantage of the DVD's commentary track and bonus interview. You'll find them to be a great resource in filling in the blanks. They're loaded with all manner of information, back-stories, facts and historical anecdotes that make the film even more engaging.

The music is pretty terrific as well. While Joyeux Noel is far from a musical, there are some wonderful musical moments within it, from the stirring group vocals to the opera stars’ solos as performed by Natalie Dessay and Rolando Villazon. Other instrumental interludes include the sound of bagpipes playing “I’m Dreaming of Home”, and the music and symbolism of a soldier’s harmonica. Carion was fascinated by the idea that music provided the common ground that set the stage for the truce, both historically and within the framework of the film.

Joyeux Noel is an idealized version of what could happen (and, in fact, did happen) when differences are (were) put aside. But if it seems more than a bit naïve, remember that unlike more recent conflicts, this war was more about defining territories and the balance of power than race, religion, or the fear of weapons of mass destruction. With that in mind, one can see where these men were able to set aside their guns if only for a little while, to celebrate life, and even contemplate a time when they might meet again in peace. Yet and still, Joyeux Noel is also a story of consequences, and the price too often paid for putting right above might.

At a time when much of the world is in conflict, and so many find so little room for compromise, this little movie gives us reason to believe that we will find that common ground, and feel better for it. That alone makes this film well worth watching.

Before I go, I want to thank you for supporting this blog, for sending in your Food Finds, telling your friends about the site, and coming back for more. Have a wonderful holiday, stay healthy, be happy and I’ll see you back here with another great film ‘pic’ before you know it.

Till the next time…

LOST HORIZON - A tale for the times

2011-10-27T13:43:00.000-05:00

My fascination with Lost Horizon began some years ago. I saw a documentary that tracked the retrieval, reconstruction and restoration of the movie by the American Film Institute. Begun in 1973, the project took years to complete, as most of the available prints had been edited (first by the studio and then, by local TV stations) beyond recognition. A massive search was launched to find a complete print, or at the very least, the missing footage. In the end, all but 7 of the film’s 112 minutes were recovered, with the irretrievable sections replaced by a series of production stills.

As luck would have it, the search also turned up a complete soundtrack that had survived unscathed. Using the track as its base, AFI’s restorers painstakingly put Humpty Dumpty together again.

Adapted from James Hilton’s 1933 best selling novel, and directed by Frank Capra, Lost Horizon centers around Shangri-La, a mythical Utopia where there is no pain or poverty, it's always fair weather, greed and crime are a non-issue, and youth is yours, as long as..

I'm not going to spoil it for you. You’ll have to see the film to find out.

The story begins in the dark of night at a small airport somewhere in China, as a group of refugees and expatriates are being pursued by an onslaught of bandits. Five of the chased find refuge in a small prop plane headed, they believe, for Great Britain. But at first light, a quick look out a cabin window confirms that outside forces have intervened, and they are headed in the opposite direction.

Though the plane crashes at the base of the Himalayan Mountains, the passengers survive. Among them, a smart, calm and internationally-recognized British diplomat named Robert Conway (Ronald Coleman), his younger, somewhat impetuous brother George (John Howard), Gloria Stone, an embittered prostitute dying of TB, (Isabelle Jewell), Alexander P. Lovett ("Lovey"), Edward Everett Horton’s prissy paleontologist, and Henry Bernard, (Thomas Mitchell)― a con on the run.

Rescued by a small but sturdy caravan of Tibetans, the survivors are lead over the treacherous terrain under extreme blizzard-like conditions. At long last, and seemingly out of nowhere, they come upon Shangri-La, a sparkling, Garden of Eden, protected from the harsh climate, politics, problems and dangers of the outside world by the mountains that surround it. The air is fresh, the sun is warm, the food is good and plentiful, the architecture is striking, and the population is gracious.

It is about as perfect as a place can be, but what is one man’s paradise, is another man’s prison, and almost from the beginning there is a great divide between the captives, with some desperate to remain, and others, to leave.

Within days, it becomes apparent that fate, happenstance or luck had nothing to do with the circumstances surrounding their arrival. The whys and wherefores of their kidnapping and transport are ultimately revealed when Robert Conway is granted an audience with an aging High Lama, portrayed by a then, middle-aged Sam Jaffe.

Rounding out the cast is a fresh-faced 19-year-old ingenue by the name of Jane Wyatt. Best known today for her role as Margaret Anderson in the 1950's TV sitcom Father Knows Best, she is lovely here as Sondra Bizet, the Shangri-La native who wins Conway's heart.

The film is an interesting study in human behavior, its characters well-drawn and artfully portrayed. Production Designer Stephen Gosson's sets―which drew from the Streamline Moderne architecture of the period, are equally impressive, and earned him an Academy Award for Best Art Direction.

But beyond the acting and art, it is the story that draws you in, and the mysteries that surround it. Is Shangri-La all it appears to be? Are the five captives destined to live their lives there, like it or not? And if not, then what? These and other questions keep you guessing to the very end.

Originally more than six hours long, Lost Horizon was snipped, clipped, chopped and whittled down to just under two hours. Small wonder that editor Gene Havlick received an Oscar for his work; awarded, I would imagine in some part, for sheer fortitude. While the film was well reviewed (the New York Times critic at the time included it in his Top Ten list that year), it came in more than a million dollars over budget, and wouldn’t turn a profit until its re-release some five years later. Behind the scenes, all manner of infighting and back-biting ensued. And yet, the film became a classic in spite of itself.

While all of the principal players are gone now, the DVD delivers satisfying commentary and a behind-the-scenes look at the production and restoration process, along with deleted scenes and an alternate ending. It is obvious that much time and attention was spent making sure this exquisite 1937 film would be here for future generations.

It is interesting to note that despite the fact that Lost Horizon had not been seen in its entirety for some fifty years, the word "Shangri-La" stayed with us, legitimized by dictionaries, where it came to represent "An imaginary remote paradise on earth; utopia."

I suppose there are dozens―even hundreds of words and phrases that originated in books and films and went on to become conversation staples. But when it comes to Shangri-La, I suspect that while most people know what it represents, few connect it to Hilton’s novel, or Capra’s film. It is far more likely to be associated with the Robert Maxwell and Matt Malneck tune by the same name. Written and recorded more than twenty years after the film’s original release, the Four Coins rendition made its way to the top of the charts in 1957. A decade later, the Four Freshmen's version introduced the tune to a whole new generation. More recently, the off-Broadway musical Forever Plaid plucked it from the past, dusted it off, and served it up with style and panache.

Shangri-La is alive and well.

For in these challenging times, the idea of finding respite in a world where time stands still, good health and weather abound, material things are plentiful and available to all, and ill-will has been all but eradicated, is heady stuff. Lost Horizon puts the image out there, tosses it around, as ultimately leaves it to the viewer to question whether the good life can be too good. Too sure. Too serene. Too perfect.

It all makes for a thought-provoking, entertaining and agreeably imperfect film. Who could ask for anything more?

Who Is Harry Nilsson?

2011-08-17T12:05:00.000-05:00

(And Why is Everybody Talkin' About Him)

Remember Harry Nilsson? It depends— in large part, on how old you are. Unlike some major talents, Harry’s life, music and legacy have been largely forgotten or at least overlooked since his career peeked in the mid 1970s.

Thankfully, writer/director John Scheinfeld has not forgotten Harry, reminding us what a talent he was through the musings of the singer/songwriter’s family, friends, business associates and fellow musicians. The result is the 2010 documentary, Who is Harry Nilsson? (And Why is Everybody Talkin' About Him)

If the name Nilsson doesn’t sound familiar, some of the songs he made famous may. Consider Midnight Cowboy’s “Everybody’s Talkin' at Me.” While Harry didn’t write the song, he sang the heck out of it, and won a Grammy for his efforts. He did write, "I Guess the Lord Must Be in New York City", which has a similar feel. While it was rejected as the film’s theme, it still managed to makeits way up the charts and into a Sophia Loren film.

Remember “Remember” and/or ”The Puppy Song”? Both, along with Nilsson’s version of “Over the Rainbow”, were featured years after their release in You’ve Got Mail. Harry’s biggest hit, “Without You” (written by Pete Ham and Tom Evans”), earned him a second Grammy. Other well-loved Nilsson songs include “One is the Loneliest Number” and a kooky little ditty called “Coconut” (“Bruder bought a coconut, he bought it for a dime, his sister had anudder one she paid it for de lime…You put de lime in de coconut, you drank ‘em bot’ up…”)

Nilsson wrote most, but not all of his hits, as well as dozens of others for others, including Little Richard, the Monkees, Yardbirds and Three Dog Night, who hit it big with Harry’s “One”. Nilsson also wrote The Point - a lovely little children’s animated musical narrated by his friend, Ringo Starr. If you or your children haven’t seen it, make it a point to put it on your wish list.

But Scheinfeld’s documentary is far more than a visual discography. It is an in-depth look at a complicated life: the story of one funny, talented, complicated, mean-spirited, high-spirited, warm, generous, over-indulged and under-appreciated musician who, like many artists of his era, played too hard and died too soon.

Much of Harry’s story is told by his oldest and dearest, many of whom are legends in their own right. You’ll hear from Paul Williams, who wrote two of the Carpenter’s biggest hits, the Muppets' "Rainbow Connection", and, along with Barbra Streisand, the ever-popular "Evergreen".

Also on hand is Randy Newman, the multi-talented musician/ composer/performer who wrote, among other things, the soundtracks for the Toy Story films, The Natural and Avalon, along with Jimmy Webb, who penned such chart-busters as "MacArthur Park", "Didn’t We", Up Up and Away" and the bulk of Glen Campbell's hits. Webb is seen throughout the film, speaking both candidly and affectionately about his long-lost friend and fellow musician. And that’s just for starters.

Truth be told, I’ve never seen a film where so many famous folks went on camera to talk about a fellow performer with such obvious affection, respect, and sadness. Among them, Robin Williams, the Beach Boy’s Brian Wilson, Micky Dolenz of The Monkees, Yoko Ono, and Monty Python’s Terry Gilliam and Eric Idle – whose comments, along with Webb’s were particularly interesting. We even hear from the man himself, thanks to an unfinished documentary he took part in while recording his Son of Schmilsson album. Notably absent, is Ringo Starr, who was by all accounts, Harry’s best friend. The former Beatle is seen, along with other members of the Fab four, in stills and clips, but either was not approached, or declined to be interviewed for the film.

A-listers aside, Nilsson and his songbook are the real stars of the film, just as they should be. You’ll learn how many of his songs came to be written and/or recorded, his state of mind at the time, and how his lifestyle impacted his voice, from the people who were at the scene of the crime. Among them, Richard Perry (Thelma & Louise, Lean on Me), animator/producer and director Fred Wolf, and composer/artist Van Dyke Parks.

Like so many of the others, Parks is also quick to praise, as he talks about Harry’s gift as a writer, referring to Nilsson’s “cartoon consciousness", which he defines as "using a few lines very wisely to demonstrate something.” I loved the phrase, and the whole idea of it, even more so as I listened to Harry’s lyrics, and Park’s piano demonstrating the way the man said so much musically, as in the heart-pumping, energy-boosting "Gotta Get Up", a song that was apparently written to the beat of a telephone’s busy signal.

Gotta get up
Gotta get out
Gotta get home before the morning comes
What if I’m late?
Gotta big date
Gotta get home before the sun comes up

Before I saw Who is Harry Nilsson? I knew very little about the man. Had I been asked, I probably would have said that he was British, as much of his music sounds like something the Beatles might have written. Apparently that’s one reason why they were attracted to it and to him, seeking him out, and bringing him into the fold.

Like the Beatles, Harry was equally at home writing sublimely silly and incredibly complex lyrics, melodies and rhythm patterns. Among his Beatlesque recordings, the child-like “Me and My Arrow”, and the aforementioned “One is the Loneliest Number” and “Gotta Get Up.”

Though there were some love songs in Harry’s repertoire, he generally didn’t write or sing about the usual suspects. Case in point, Harry’s ode to his “Good Old Desk”. Ostensibly about a piece of furniture, many believe - despite Harry’s denials - that the desk was a metaphor for God, as an ever-present, spiritual presence in his mixed-up, often out-of-control life.

Whatever the reason behind his lyrics, it was Harry’s gift for word-crafting and story telling that set the bar, as in the heart-wrenchingly autobiographical "1941".

Well in 1941 a happy father had a son
And by 1944, the father walked right out the door
In '45, the mom and son were still alive
But who could tell in '46 if the two were to survive

Born on Father’s Day, Harry Nilsson became fatherless at three, when he dad left and presumably died in World War II. Life from three to thirteen was spent in relative poverty, and I do mean, relative. Living in the overcrowded home of an uncle, he dropped out of school and took a job as an usher in a local movie theater. When he lost his job, his uncle told him that he could no longer afford him. It was all the restless teenager needed to hit the road and head for LA.

Who is Harry Nilsson… follows him there, leading the viewer through the twists and turns of his life via clips and photos from private collections, bits and pieces of Harry’s music, segments of a BBC concert, and a multitude of reflections regarding his life choices, unmistakable wit, undeniable charm, up and down sides, loves, losses, successes and failures.

Such failures were often prompted by the excesses that also fueled him. The breakup of his first marriage produced the x-rated, “You’re breaking my heart, you’re tearin’ it apart, so f--- you.” Of questionable taste, it nonetheless struck a chord with George Harrison and friends, who were both saddened and angry with their friend for dying on them. Breaking out in song at Harry’s grave site, it was his words that expressed their feelings.

Conversely, it is the feelings of those who Nilsson left behind, that drive this engaging film. The DVD's bonus section only adds to the wealth of material, with more clips focusing on Nilsson’s musicality, generosity, addictions, and everything in between.

Like many films I write about, Who is Harry Nilsson? is not, at least at first glance, for everyone. Certainly people in the entertainment industry and Nilsson fans will find it engrossing. But to put it in the same category as an MTV special, movie-of-the-week or Biography episode would be to dismiss a well-researched, highly personal film that addresses the way one man was impacted (some would say blindsided) by his fame, and how his troubled past influenced his future.

There is little doubt that the senior Nilsson’s departure affected his son in a very profound way. Ironically, some twenty years later, he would desert his eldest son, Zak, under similar circumstances. Reflecting on his father's departure, his son says somewhat hopefully,"I’m pretty sure that ‘s not how he intended it to be”, and hopefully, he’s right. Zak’s mom believes that Harry liked the idea of being a dad, but wasn’t ready to be a father. “The reality was just too much for him,” she says generously, given the things she could have said.

That the boy’s first real one-on-one time with his dad was also his last, says something thing about Harry. But just when you think you’ve sized him up, Scheinfeld introduces us to Harry’s second family, all of whom paint him as a near-perfect, devoted family man, despite his love of liquor, drugs and high adventure.

But then, a lot of people loved Harry. They loved, hated, admired, ran with and worked along side him. More than a few were used and discarded by him – seemingly without rhyme or reason. And yet, even those who had a bone to pick, including the Smothers Brothers, whose come-back, opening night performance at LA’s Troubadour was totally destroyed by the constant heckling of the inebriated Nilsson and Lennon, were quick to praise Harry’s talent.

Whether this documentary is or isn’t your cup of tea, I urge you to search out Nilsson’s music, most of which is as relevant as ever. Last May, James Durbin, one of the most talented American Idol hopefuls, sang “Without You”, bringing tears to his and everyone else’s’ eyes (“I can’t live, if living is without you, I can’t live, I can’t give anymore…”). Other Nilsson tunes continue to grace the soundtracks of films and TV shows like Life on Mars, My Name is Earl, Confessions of A Shopaholic, You Don't Know Jack, and Bones.

Harry Nilsson passed away on January 15, 1994 – the same day LA was rocked by a major earthquake. Felled by a heart attack sparked by a lifetime of drug and alcohol abuse. Though his death came as no surprise, the aftershocks of his passing hit hard. It is a tribute to his talent that all these years later, those who worked and played with him remember him, despite his shortcomings, as a singular talent, whose music is worth remembering.

Released in 2010, Who is Harry Nilsson? is available on DVD. It is my hope that it will inspire you to see why seventeen years after his death, everybody’s still talking about Harry. Many regard his Nilsson Schmilsson album as his best. I have a special place in my heart for A Little Touch of Schmillson in the Night, which features some of America’s best-loved standards, each one enhanced by Sinatra arranger Gordon Jenkins’ remarkably lush charts and the London Philharmonic’s phenomenal musicians. While there are some gems among his more recent offerings, my advice would be to save his later stuff for later, and go for the gold.

GET LOW

2011-07-19T08:27:00.000-05:00

Duvall, Spacek & Murray take a turn for the best

I really enjoyed this sliver of a film. Produced on a slim-to-nothing budget in less than a month, it is both simple and complex. The characters are well drawn; the script―an eight-year labor of love―is tight, and the plot’s twist and turns keep you guessing until the very end, or close to it.

Filmed in Georgia, but based loosely on the true story of an east Tennessee man named Felix "Bush" Breazeale, Get Low is, at first glance, a story about a man, a secret, and a funeral. On a more philosophical plane, it is about the multi-shades of love and loss. On yet another level, it’s about guilt, and coming to terms with the things you’ve done and left undone. These, and other profound subjects have been masterfully interwoven within a quirky script that is both funny and poignant.

As portrayed by Robert Duvall, Bush is an eccentric recluse (aren’t they all?) who has chosen to live a solitary life in the woods for some forty years. His only companion is a mule named Gracie. Two well-loved, long-gone dogs are buried in a fenced-in plot on the property, where, he says he too intends to ‘reside’ one day “―if they’ll have me.”

As the film opens, the 1930s are coming to a close, and Bush, now well into his seventies, has earned himself a reputation that comes from years of living in a self-imposed prison. Everyone, it seems, has a story to tell about this wild-haired, stoic-faced, rifle-toting septuagenarian, and none of them are good. Where the truth lies only Felix knows.

When a contemporary dies of old age, it forces this outsider to contemplate his own passing, along with the life he’s lived, and the consequences of his actions. In doing so, he comes up with a plan that is, to say the least, unconventional. He wants to have what he refers to as “a funeral party”, the only catch― he wants it to take place while he’s still alive and able to hear what everyone has to say about him. At least, that’s the way he lays it out to the local pastor.

When the pastor ( Simon & Simon’s Gerald McRaney) turns down a request to oversee the proceedings, Bush heads for the Quinn Funeral Home, where funeral director Frank Quinn (Bill Murray) has been stressing out over the lack of business. “You read the paper today?” he asks his young protege, Buddy Robinson. “People are dying in bunches everywhere but here… One thing about Chicago, people know how to die. They drown, get run over, shot, whatever it takes. “ “We get to dyin’ around here,” counters Buddy. “It’s just that we’re not in a hurry about it.”

Unfortunately for Quinn, time is running out, and what business there is, is fraught with problems. A one-way telephone conversational (think Bob Newhart), gives us a taste of what the funeral director is dealing with.

Quinn: Yes, ma’am, I do respect your wishes. But, you see, state law requires…
(He pauses as she interrupts)
No ma’am. We can’t bury him beneath the house.
(Pause).
All right. Well, just for argument’s sake, how would you get the casket under the house?
(Pause)
No casket. Well, but you have to have a container of some kind, ma’am, for decency and for sanitation…
(Pause)
Yes, ma’am, but there’s lots of things that are natural that aren’t decent. (Pause)
He did what?
(Pause)
Good God.
(Pause)
No ma’am, I didn’t know that about your husband.
(Pause)
Well, yeah, now I understand why you want him under the house, but still…”

It is arguably the best scene in the film – certainly the best funny scene, and Murray plays it for all it’s worth. When Bush’s entrance interrupts the call, the ‘fun’ continues.

“About time for me to get low” he tells the funeral director, who hasn’t a clue what he’s talking about.
“Get what?”
“Down to business. I need a funeral” he says plainly, laying out his plan. What’s more, he’s got the box, the plot, and the money to do it up right, with a band and food and who knows what all. He just needs Quinn to make it happen. Anyone within a four-county area that has a story to tell about him is welcome.

While Quinn sees Bush as the goose that laid the golden egg, Buddy is not as anxious to hop on the gravy train, questioning the morality of taking money from a man who is obviously out of his mind. “You can’t have a funeral if you’re not deceased” he says, his scruples outweighing his need to support his wife and child. “Hold on now,” says Quinn, who’s not about to let opportunity knock elsewhere. “It’s a detail. We can look at it.” And with that, we’re off and running.

In short order photos are taken, posters are posted and the media—such as it is, is alerted. A lottery is added to the mix as an extra incentive to get folks to come on down. Buy a five dollar ticket, and if yours is the lucky number, when Bush kicks the bucket you become the proud owner of his cabin, barn and the 300 acres of pristine timber they sit on.

As the money begins to pour in, Bush gets a makeover. Beard shaved. Hair cut, suit fitted and shoes tied, he bares little resemblance to the wild looking “crazy ol’ nutter” on the poster. Of his new look he says simple, “I’ve been pruned.”

While the reason for all this fuss appears to be his desire to hear what people have to say about him, we soon realize that it’s quite the opposite. And though we must wait until funeral day to learn the real reason for the party, we are given some clues, along with a hint as to who this man is, and was, thanks to a soft-spoken sixty-something widow lady named Mattie Darrow.

Darrow, as played by Sissy Spacek, knew Bush “a thousand years ago” – long before he tucked himself away behind a gnarly beard and a bunch of trees. She tells Buddy’s wife that Bush was (and is) the most interesting man she ever met. “Most people are laid out nice and simple,” she says. “You always know what they’re thinking,” While Bush was “like this big old cave that just went deeper and deeper.”

Over the course of the film, we come to understand what she’s talking about, as, through the smallest of gestures, Duvall peels away the layers, revealing the love, pain, and regret that has brought him to this place.

Why did Bush opt out? Hang in? Turn off? By the end of the film you’ll have your answer. In between, you’ll chuckle, sigh, and marvel at the way these consummate actors wrap their minds around their characters. Bill Cobbs, who plays Reverend Jackson, a black preacher from another time and town, is superb, as are many of the supporting players. Likewise, the clothes, settings and accoutrement's are spot-on. Even the hearse is of the period.

At first glance, the idea of pairing Duvall and Murray may sound like a casting mismatch. But once you see the two of them on screen together, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. Their timing – particularly in the aforementioned funeral parlor scene, is as good as it gets. The script, which was written and polished by three different and totally devoted writers, is an example of saying more with less, as when Quinn asks Bush how he knows the widow Darrow. So controlled is Duvall’s body language, that it appears he hasn’t heard the question. Then, after a beat, comes the answer: “We had a go.”

“We had a go”? Perfect.

Such Coen brothers-like moments are counter-balanced with insightful scenes that give the viewer something to think about, as when Mattie and Felix talk about aging. “The list of people who are gone is getting longer and longer” laments Mattie, “and it seems like all I’m doing is just waiting for my number to be called.” “You can’t wait for anything,” replies a thoughtful and reflective Bush. “Close your eyes. Hold your breath. Stay in a spot all your life, but you’re still moving, like the world is-you know, moving under you. There’s no waiting.”

Out of context, such dialogue may sound a bit preachy. But every bit of it is there for a reason, moving the story and telling us a little bit more about the characters we’ve come to care about.

Get Low is funny, touching and thought provoking. And while it’s not exactly Hitchcock, it manages to keep you guessing. My only complaint deals with a moment towards the end of the film that is a bit over the top for my taste, but the rest of it is quite extraordinary.

Throughout a multitude of bonus features the production team talks about how hard it was to find financing for the film, despite the impressive cast. It seems that in a world hooked on blockbusters, teen idols and comic book heroes, the studios aren’t interested in story lines devoid of special effects and freshly scrubbed faces. Thank goodness the producers persevered until they found investors who recognized the value in this small but worthy film.

Although the movie was well received (“Get Low is Duvall’s Greatest High”—Variety), Get Low pulled in less than ten million dollars worldwide, and came and went without fanfare. There was a bit of early Oscar buzz, but when the time came, no nominations were bestowed. The only major – or not-so-major award went to Duvall, who took home the 2010 Hollywood Best Actor Award for his work.

I think the title may have, if you’ll excuse the expression, done them in, as the phrase “get low” is a bit too close to “down low” – urban/African American slang that more than likely put off some movie-goers. Whatever the reason, Get Low got lost in the shuffle. Gratefully, thanks to a growing after-sale market, you have the chance to literally check it out.

As with many of the movies I write about, Get Low isn’t perfect. You want perfect? watch The King’s Speech. It is, in my opinion, about as perfect as a film can get. But one film does not a lifetime of movie-watching make. Thankfully, tucked inside decades of imperfect films are exquisitely perfect performances. You’ll find several of them in this sorely neglected film , as when Bush steps to the mic at his funeral party and faces a sea of storytellers.

Get Low is a small, well drawn and executed, satisfying film that is filled with good performances and unforgettable moments. I hope you’ll seek it out. First time director Aaron Schneider, who could have easily been intimidated by the weight of his cast's credentials, did a masterful job of putting it all together, his background as a cinematographer serving him well during filming and in the editing room. Rent or buy the DVD and you'll be treated to all kinds of extras that will give you an even greater appreciation for the film and the people behind it. After you've heard what everyone had to say, watch it again. I think you'll find that Get Low gets even better the second time around.

The First Annual Food Find Edition

2011-05-29T19:45:00.000-05:00

Most readers think of this blog as a movie site: a place where I expound on the virtues of some of the better, generally small, often foreign films and TV series available on DVD. But it has always been my intention to include the occasional food find, which is where the ‘pans2’ ( as in 'pots and pans') comes into play.

While I’ve included a food fav or two through the years, I’ve never actually devoted a full post to food finds until now. Over the past few weeks I’ve asked readers, friends and family to pass on their favorites, adding them to my own list. Some may be available in your area, others, not. But there’s a lot to choose from, and hopefully, you’ll come away with a whole list of exciting new products to check out. With that in mind, let's take Mr. Hammerstein's advice and "..start at the very beginning—a very good place to start."

BREAKFAST

CEREAL
Are you a cereal person? Let me recommend Kroger’s Muesli with raisins, dates and almonds (190 calories). This store brand costs about half as much as its big brand competitors, and is on sale more often than not. Moistened with a bit of cold milk, it is a great way to start the day.

Ever think of giving someone cereal as a gift? Probably not. But think again. Meandgoji.com offers top-quality, artisanal cereals that you can mix and match to create the perfect blend. You can even name the concoction. Include a favorite photo with your on-line order, and the meandgoji folks will put it right on the label. I did just that when I sent my brother Harry a box of “Harry’s Hoops” for his birthday.

Aside from the clever packaging, the Meandgoji folks deliver a quality product made of all-natural ingredients that are as healthy as they are interesting. Why not check out their website and take a look around?

YOGURT
Not a big cereal eater? One New England reader recommends Chobani [Greek style] Peach Yogurt. Individual servings sell for about $1.49.

BREAD & JAM
If you’re more of a toast and coffee person, save your pennies and buy a loaf of Pane Turano Italian Bread from the Campagna-Turano Bakery Company. The two-pound, over-sized, gloriously round, crusty loaf comes pre-sliced. Put it in your freezer and take out a slice or two at a time. It is delicious toasted and topped with a favorite preserve and/or Fresh Market’s Lightly Salted Butter ($3.29 a pound), which, to my mind is a good bit better than its pricier Irish and European-style counterparts. Pane Turano Italian Bread comes packaged in a large see-through bag, and sells for just under six dollars a loaf.

Another Fresh Market favorite is their seeded rye. Baked on the premises, it is as close to the cracked crust rye bread of my youth as I can find in this area. A reader who grew up in Chicago is a fan of this aromatic bread for much the same reason.

Rather have a bagel? Try Pepperidge Farms Bagel Thins. These slender little pre-sliced rounds weigh in at 150 calories, as opposed to the oversized, exceedingly plump 250-plus-calorie bagels that seem to have taken over the country. While they don’t have the chewiness of boiled bagels (the kind you can still find in major city Jewish bakeries), and don’t deliver as much flavor as their full-blown, hip-hugging counterparts, they toast beautifully, stay warm longer and melt the butter or cream cheese right off your knife. While I generally go for poppy seed or pain full-sized bagels, I prefer the “Everything” variety of these Bagel Thins. Matched with a cup of hot coffee, they are a guilt-free canvas on which to spread your favorite spread.

But wait – there’s more! A Melrose Park, PA. reader begins her day with a Borreli Italian Cracker or two, over which she spreads a glistening layer of Sarabeth’s Apricot-Orange Marmalade. Discovered on a visit to Sarabeth's Manhattan eatery years ago, she immediately became a fan. Lucky for us, this made-in-Manhattan favorite is now available throughout the country.

It seems that there are quite a few good jams, jellies and preserves out there. From Sarasota comes word of an exceptional Croatian product known as Dalmatia Sour Cherry Spread. Filled with tiny cherries, our reader suggests that, in addition to spreading it over some good bread, you try drizzling a spoonful or two over ice cream, angel food cake or pancakes.

Earlier this year a friend gifted me with a jar his favorite spread: Bonne Maman Four-fruit Preserves. I have to admit that it was mighty tasty. My all-time personal favorite comes from Greaves of Historic Niagara, a family-owned business in Niagara-on-the-Lake, Ontario. I came across it years ago, at a now-defunct country inn, where it sat glistening in a round little jam bowl beside a basket of freshly-baked scones, a tub of sweet butter, and a pot of breakfast tea. While the rest of the Greaves line-up including their orange marmalade is fine, it is the Orange, Grapefruit and Lemon Marmalade I crave. In true Goldilocks fashion, it is just right—not too sweet and not too tart or bitter like some marmalades I’ve known. Hot out of the toaster, and matched with a lightly buttered English muffin, it is quite exceptional. Not going to Canada any time soon? No problem. Greaves products are available on Amazon.com for just under six dollars a jar.

For the bakers among you, comes word that Simon Fischer’s Golden Apricot butter and Lekvar Prune Butter (from Solo Industries) are not to be missed. My sister says they take pastries, cookies, hamentashen, rugelach and twists to a whole new level. She buys them by the case. According to Solo's website, you'll find them in supermarkets from one end of the country to the other. Major outlets include Kroger, Safeway, Publix, Albertsons, Acme, Giant, ShopRite, WinnDixie, and Ralph’s.

STARTERS AND SIDES

PICKLES
Longing for a schtickle of pickle? Puckers Pickle Company, Barrel Select Kosher Crunchy Deli Dills taste very much like the pickles of my youth; the ones my mother used to pluck from the pickle barrel in our neighborhood delicatessen. Crisp and crunchy, these pickles taste less like cukes and more like pickles – a good thing, in my opinion. You’ll find them in the refrigerated case in the Kosher food section of your supermarket. Whole or in spears, these chunky little dills are joy in a jar.

CHUTNEY
Like Pucker’s, Raffetto Chut Nut Chutney can add a little zip to an otherwise common meal, and is unlike any chutney I have had before or since I first tried it, It hasn’t been available in this city for some time, but it can be found with some ease on the eastern seaboard, and is just a call away from being shipped to your door.

I remember it with great fondness, sandwiched inside two slices of good bread and some home made roasted turkey or chicken. The company was purchased some years ago, and if you read consumer comments on the Internet, there is some question as to whether the chutney is made the same way it was before the sale. If you care to give it a try call IVB Foods at 1-877-IB Foods, 908-359-4050. While the product itself sells for around $5.00 a jar, the shipping (a minimum of $11,00, depending where you live), can make it cost-prohibitive. As with many mail-order food products, it pays to buy in bulk.

SALSA
Into salsa? Who isn’t these days. Years ago – I’m talking twenty-plus years ago – I held a “blind” bottled salsa taste test. Tasters shuttled from one brand to the next – rating the spicy collection in order of preference. There were at least eight brands – maybe as many as ten to choose from, all decked out in festive bowls so as not to reveal their identity. The clear winner? Newman’s Own Medium Salsa. Not the pineapple version or other exotic alternates, this is the one that started it all. Please note: If you adore cilantro, Newman’s Own is not for you. That said, ice cold and married to a bowl of Dorito’s Nacho Cheese chips, it is, for my money, one of the best jarred salsas around.

NIBBLES AND BITS
And while we’re in the business of munching, may I suggest Fresh Market’s rice-stuffed grape leaves and red cherry peppers, which you’ll find along with a variety of olives and marinated this and that in their antipasto bar. The cigar-shaped rice packages are perfect for staving off hunger pangs before a formal dinner, and the peppers are both ‘lovely to look at”, and sweeter than the kind you’ll find in the majority of jarred peppers. I use them to perk up pasta, rice, salads, deli sandwiches and subs. If something needs a little kick, these cherry-red cherry-reds always seem to do the trick.

CHEESE AND CRACKERS
Cheese prices have really zoomed upwards over the past year or two, but who can resist a bite of extra sharp Cheddar or Swiss, a slice of creamy Brie, or a salad dressing made with a favorite blue? The next time you go for the gold, add a wedge of Morbier to your cheese plate. This French, semi-soft, cow’s milk cheese looks as good as it tastes, with a thin smoky ribbon of ash stretching delicately across its middle. Rich and creamy, with a hint of a bitter after-taste, it spreads well, and stands up to some of the more flavor-intense crackers.

Which brings me to a tasty little seeded 8-grain by Dare. Packaged in a bright red box, Vinta Original Flavor Crackers can be found at your local supermarket. Modestly priced (I recently found them sale-priced at two for four dollars), these wonderful crackers pump up the flavor when paired with everything from Boursin’s Garlic and Herb Cheese Spread to a fancy shmantzy canapé. They are, without a doubt, my cracker of choice for all things savory.

Looking for something a bit more exotic? Margaret’s Roasted Garlic and Chive Artisan Flatbread is one of the best. Rest a slice of your favorite cheese on this bumpy but beautiful flatbread and prepare to swoon. Packaged in near foot-long pieces, you can break them up and arrange them artfully into a bread bowl, or just eat them right out of their see-through bag.

BALSAMIC VINEGAR
When I was a girl, vinegar was vinegar. Clear, cheap and magnificent when mixed with vegetable oil and a little garlic salt, celery salt and pepper. Admittedly, that was in the Dark Ages, long before Martha and Bobby and Rachael shunned it in favor of more exciting options. Over the years I added cider and wine vinegar to my pantry, but it wasn’t until I was introduced to balsamic vinegar that I found my true love.

I can remember our first meeting. I was in a trendy little Italian restaurant, seated at a table overlooking the first floor. My eyes drifted away from the who’s who below, and rested upon a little bottle of the mysterious liquid. I had to ask the waiter what it was, and what one would do with it. Now this was some twenty-plus years ago, before the Food Network turned us all into top chefs, and I didn’t quite know what to make of it. But once smitten, I never looked back.

If you haven’t tried balsamic vinegar – real balsamic vinegar, you’re long overdue. It is richer and sweeter and – for want of a better word—thicker than other vinegars, which makes it a perfect addition to salads, soups, sauces and marinades.

To qualify as real balsamic vinegar it must come from Modena, Italy, and be at least 10 years old. You’ll find lots of cheaper caramel-colored look-alikes on your local supermarket shelf, but be forewarned. Real balsamic and fake balsamic vinegar have little in common. It’s kind of like the difference between butter and margarine.

My favorite among the brands that don't require taking out a loan, is Lapeana Balsamic Vinegar. It's not cheap, (somewhere around $17.00 for 8.4 ounces) but it is so worth it—especially when compared to white distilled vinegar. But here’s the thing: It is delicious. Truly delicious. What’s more, this particular brand of balsamic vinegar comes in a charming round glass bottle that once empty, makes a perfect vase you’ll enjoy using for years to come.

FROZEN CHICKEN WINGS AND DINNERS
Lunch time, dinner time, party time, anytime is a good time for hot wings, though I’m about to recommend an unlikely choice. Banquet (yes, Banquet) Hot & Spicy Wings cost about two dollars less than Friday’s offering, while delivering a lot more chicken, and just as much, if not more flavor. For less than $4.00 a box you get 15-to-16 good-sized pieces that bake up crispy on the outside and tender on the inside. Serve them with blue cheese or ranch dressing and celery and carrot sticks, or all by their lonesome. They reheat nicely, and at 270 calories for 4 wings, they’re a tasty alterative to their fast-food cousins.

Looking for something a little spicier? Zateran’s Frozen Blackened Chicken and Pasta Dinner fills the bill. I’m not generally a fan of New Orlean’s-type fare, but along with Cherchere’s seasoning, this hearty microwavable entrée delivers the goods. The pieces of chicken are fairly sizeable and loaded with flavor. Served with a salad, it sets the bar for frozen chicken entrees.

FROZEN PIZZA
Pizza lover? Who isn’t. Today’s frozen pies are a far cry from their cardboard forefathers, many of them as good or better than those served at your local pizzeria. Yet and still, if you’re looking for something a little different, I urge you to try American Flatbread’s Ionian Awakening, a marvelous combination of tomato sauce, four cheeses, red onion, Kalamata olives, garlic and rosemary. A 9-inch, individual-size pie is a party for one. Available in health food stores and larger supermarkets for somewhere around $8.49, you need only look at the ingredients to understand why it costs more than other pies of their size. Year before I found them, A New York Times food aficionado noted that American Flatbread was the best frozen pizza out there. They come in two sizes, depending upon the toppings, and are packed in white pizza boxes with colorful artwork on top.

FROZEN FISH
While you may not think of Walmart as the gourmet capital of the world, I found a very tasty tilapia dinner in their frozen fish section. Fishin’ Forever’s Tilapia Mango Tango from their Delitefuls collection, is a fragrant combination of tilapia, white rice, red pepper, snap peas and edamname in a tangy mango sauce. Boasting 17g of protein, and zero grams of transfat, it is satisfying while weighing in at a skinny 250 calories! With two separately-wrapped portions per package, and priced to please, Tilapia Mango Tango far outshines Delitefuls’ other entrees which run the gamut (in my not-so-humble opinion) from “okay” to “no way.”

Crazy about Sole food? One reader is hooked on Oven Poppers Crab Stuffed Sole, which, like the afore-mentioned Tilapia, delivers two individually-wrapped portions per package. She buys them at Schnuck’s (A St. Louis-based chain), but according to their home office, aside from Florida and Wisconsin, you’ll find them at BJ’s Wholesale Clubs, Price Choppers, Stop & Shop, Giant, Eagle and Dominics and a bunch of smaller stores around the country.

Like shrimp? While you’re shopping for stuffed grape leaves, cherry peppers, bread and butter at Fresh Market, head over to the seafood counter and buy a handful of their frozen large or jumbo pre-cooked shrimp. I don’t know where they get them – but they’re big and firm and succulent and loaded with flavor. I keep a supply in the freezer, and when I don’t feel like cooking or turning on the oven, I just run some cold water over them, pop them into a big bowl, hit them with a splash of fresh lemon juice and, if I’m in the mood, sprinkle a little Tony Chechere’s Creole Seasoning over them. After that it’s just a matter of dipping them into some tried and true Heinz Cocktail Sauce. Four stars.

Our last fish find isn’t for everyone, as gefilte fish is one of those foods that is, to say the least, an acquired taste. If you didn’t grown up eating gefilte fish (pronounced gah-fil-tah), chances are you are not going to like it. But – if you did, and do, have I got a jar for you!

Meal Mart Gefilte Fish is unique in that, unlike most other brands, you don’t have to doctor it. It tastes absolutely great as is. Just put it in the frig and let it chill. Served with a square of crisp fresh buttered matzo and some red beet horseradish, you’ve got a meal to remember.

QUINOA, ANYONE?
Pronounced "keen-wa", this healthy grain has apparently been around forever, although I hadn't heard of it until my sister mentioned it in passing recently. Her brand of choice is Ancient Harvest Quinoa Pasta, which she vows is a tasty, low fat, low-sodium alternative to spaghetti. The company’s website notes that “Quinoa contains more protein than any other grain; an average of 16.2 percent compared with 7.5 percent for rice, 9.9 percent for millet, and 14 percent for wheat.” Epicurious.com reports that many in the culinary community refer to it as the ‘super grain of the future.’ It isn’t often that something that’s good for you tastes good too. Try it, and let me know what you think.

CHILI
I know that summer is fast approaching, but I had to include this most unlikely find. If, like me, you like an occasional bowl of chili but don’t want to go to all the trouble of starting from scratch, pick up a can of Bush’s Best Chili Magic Chili Starter (Traditional mild). It, along with a pound of browned ground chuck, makes great chili in no time, and when topped with some shredded sharp cheddar and a dollop of sour cream, the results are extremely satisfying. Spice it up for more of a kick, or eat it as-is. Die-hard chili fans, will undoubtedly be horrified by the very thought of using a pre-packaged mix, but I’ll tell you, on a cold rainy or snowy day, it really hits the spot.

BEVERAGES WELL WORTH THE SIP

CARBONATED SODA
So Cal, Low Cal or No-Cal, the carbonated beverage market has exploded, with more brands than you can shake a bottle at. Last year I discovered an amazing melon-flavored soda at a speciality market, only to find that it had been discontinued shortly thereafter. This next ‘find’ is far less trendy than the afore mentioned melon variety, but it tastes great and it's a great buy.

I'm talking about Kroger's Dr. K Diet Soda , and obvious knock-off of Dr. Pepper's no-cal product. It looks and tastes remarkably like the original, but is a good bit cheaper. Their diet grape—if you can find it— isn’t bad either.

JUICE
While you’re at Kroger, head over to the refrigerated beverage case, where you’ll find a jug of their Apple Juice. In my thirsty opinion, this juice is a far better than any of the brands I grew up with. And because it’s a store brand, it goes on sale all the time. What’s more, it goes down cool on a hot summer day, and isn’t overly sweet, like some brands I know.

COFFEE
Back in late March or early April, I was disspointed to find that my local market was out of Dunkin' Donuts Original Blend coffee . While that section of the shelf was empty, the next row, featuring their new Dunkin' Donuts Turbo coffee was well-stocked. I decided to give it a try.

It instantly became a 'must-have' - even though the price is a bit daunting. I spent a lot of years trying store brands, coffee shop grinds, and major old-time favorites. I ground my own beans, ordered online, and used some gift cards to get what had to be the most expensive pound of coffee ever - and the most bitter - at the largest sit-down-and-spend-your-entire fortune coffee shops in the world.

None of these blends came anywhere near Turbo's rich, full taste. The fact that it's not bitter, and goes with just about everything, is worth the price. The Duncan Donuts folks have been pushing it pretty hard on TV lately. But I'm proud to say that in this case, I was the first kid on the block to try it. If you like coffee, you'll love Turbo. Despite its name, I don't believe it has any more caffiene than the other guys. And it is unbeleivably good. By the way - it's at least a dollar cheaper - often more - at Walmart.

TEA
As the days grow longer and hotter, we tend to put hot tea on the back burner. But I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you about two of my favorite blends. The first, PG TIPS is advertised as "Britain’s top selling tea” – and rightly so. It’s a pure tea, which is to say that unless you keep the teabag in your cup or pot overnight, it won’t be bitter. I love it with a bit of Australian honey instead of sugar or sugar substitute.

I am also a fan of The Republic of Tea, but like so many things these days, you have to take out a second mortgage to by a tin of these round little teabags. However, if you truly love a good cuppa, you might want to invest in a tin of their Ginger Peach longevity tea. I’m not a big ginger person, but it is so subtle, and so perfect, I can’t imagine it any other way. Their Wild Berry Plum tea bags are also a favorite of mine, but I don’t think there’s a bad batch in the bunch, which includes a wide variety of regular and decafinated white, red, green and black tea.

SNACKS & DESSERTS

ICE CREAM
Who doesn’t love ice cream? We all have our favorites. A year or so ago I cued you in to GAGA ice cream (no relation to Lady G). I still think they make a great product, but I have to say that Graeter’s Dark Raspberry Chip is even better. It just became available in this area, but you can buy it online if you’re feeling flush, or in one of their stores, if you live in Ohio, Minneapolis or Indiana, where it is a household word. I grew up with Breyers, and still love Bryers Vanilla Fudge Twirl and Peach. I'm also nuts about Haagen Dazs Vanilla Swiss Almond. They're all delicious, and fairly weighty. A half a cup of Haagen Daz will cost you 300 calories. Graeters weighs in at 260.

If you’re looking for something less caloric, a Boston reader recommends Skinny Cow Chocolate Truffle bars. She says she’s addicted, but at just 100-calories per bar, and 3 grams of fiber, who cares? Pick up a pack of six. And remember, you’re not getting wider, you’re getting healthier. Here – have two!

With more than forty products to temp your taste buds, I think you'll be busy trying new and exciting finds for
a good while. But, before I wrap things up, I have one more find to pass along as we say good-bye to May: a time when barbecue fans around the world head for Memphis, for the International Barbecue Contest.

I came across Neely’s Memphis Style Honey Kissed Barbeque Sauce quite by accident a few weeks ago, as I poked around the "Bent and Dent" section of my neighborhood supermarket. Manufactured by the Neely family (stars of one of the Food Network's most popular shows), it called to me. Over the years I’ve found some wonderful products in the Bent and Dent section: products I would have never otherwise known about or tried.

That bottle sat in my cupboard until this afternoon, waiting patiently for me to remember it was there. I had been trying to decide what to do with a half-rack of ribs I’d brought home for the holiday weekend, finally deciding to go back to a recipe I’d tried years ago from Sylvia’s Soul Food cookbook. The last and only time I’d made the recipe was on an overnight camping trip, when we’d cooked our ribs over a grill. I say ‘camping trip' – we stayed in a cabin, but it was in the woods, and the grill was one of those permanent outdoorsy numbers that makes you feel like you’ve really got pork “chops.”

Anyway, Sylvia’s sauce was delicious, as were the ribs it was slathered over, but as I surveyed my cabinets, I came up short on several fronts. Not enough this. Outdated that. It clearly wasn’t going to work. And then, I remembered the Neely’s sauce, and decided to marry Sylvia's marinade and rub with the Neely's sauce. The results were spectacular.

First, I cleaned the ribs, removing the thin white connective tissue on the back with the tip of a paring knife. Then I seasoned them on both sides with salt, pepper and red pepper flakes – being careful not to overdo the flakes.

I wrapped the ribs in foil, and put them back in the frig for about 5 hours. Sylvia’s recipe called for them to hang in there overnight, but since I wanted to eat them for dinner tonight, that just wasn’t possible. No matter, five hours turned out to be more than enough time.

Just before I was ready to cook the ribs, I turned the oven to 450 degrees, and while I was waiting for it to reach the desired temperature I took out a metal pan, and lined it (sides and all) with heavy-duty foil for easy clean-up. Then I put the ribs in the pan, and poured enough apple cider vinegar around them to go about half way up the sides. Sylvia’s original recipe called for white wine vinegar, but I didn’t have white wine vinegar, and the apple cider vinegar worked wonderfully.

After about 40 minutes, I took the pan out of the oven, and turned the ribs over. As I was only making half a rack, they were already well on their way to being ready for the next step. So, after ten more minutes (instead of Sylvia’s hour-and-a-half) I turned the oven down to 400, took the pan of ribs out, poured out the vinegar, and poured a little Neely’s barbeque sauce over both sides of the ribs. Then I put the ribs back in the oven, meaty side, up. Ten minutes later I took them out and poured a little more sauce on top before popping them back in the oven for a final ten-minute bake.

They were so good. I mean, really good. "Let-me-write-the-recipe-down-so-that-I-can-make-them again" good. Try them out and see how they fit. I know I haven't given you an exact amount of salt, pepper, flakes or vinegar, but the thing is, it depends on how many ribs you're cooking, and how spicy you like them. All I can tell you is, that at least on this day, at this time, with this sauce and this method, the pork was so tender, it came clear off the bone with no trouble at all.

So that's it. I want to thank those of you who shared your favorite food finds. Hope to see you here next time, when I’ll be back with another DVD selection. Meanwhile, I suggest you cook up a slab or two of those pork ribs, and pig out.

Till the next time…

I Served the King of England

2011-03-30T14:36:00.000-05:00

This 2006 Czechoslovakian import is an odd little film. In some ways, its quirky script and offbeat sense of humor remind me of The Coen Brothers' films. In other ways, it could very well be taken for a Merchant Ivory piece, in that it is magnificently filmed, divinely cast with a wonderful assortment of character actors, sophisticated, charming, and historically thought-provoking. Filled with imaginative but relatively small special effects (no parting of the Red Sea here), it is also appalling, as the central character’s political leanings have him literally sleeping (or at least bedding down) with the enemy.

As the movie opens, we meet Jan Dítě (Oldrich Kaiser), a fifty-something ex-con, who will serve as our narrator and focus for the next two hours. It is 1963, and Dítě has just been released from a Czech prison, after some fifteen years. Dispatched to a war-torn, long-deserted village on the Czech/German border, he needs no key to open the door of his government-issued home—a shell of a place in need of just about everything. As Jan goes about rebuilding it – and his life, he mentally revisits the circumstances that brought him to this place. His musings take us back to the late 1930s, when he was a young man in search of two things: great wealth and great women.

The young Jan, as played by Ivan Barnev, is impish - almost Chaplinesque in his movements. Short in stature (His name – Dítě - literally means “child” in Czechoslovakian) but long on ambition, he pursues his dreams with gusto, opportunism and slight-of-hand. An early encounter with a salesman who admires his unorthodox methods, evolves into a friendship/mentoring of sorts, leading to a series of positions as a waiter in some of the best hotels, spas and resorts in the country.

With each situation comes more power, more money and more women. As the film moves effortlessly between the past and present, we learn more about this often naive, fiercely ambitious, ever-clever young man and the times, while the reason behind his recent incarceration remains a mystery.

The film’s title refers not to Jan, but another mentor (the Maître d', Skřivánek)—at the exclusive Hotel Paříž in Prague. Skřivánek’s claim to fame? The 'fact' that he once served the King of England, and has an uncanny sense of intuition, knowing a customer’s financial situation, and food preference before he or she sits down to dine.

Over time, the ever-opportunistic Dítě acquires both experience and recognition, albeit at a price. Shunned by his countrymen, barely tolerated by the Germans he serves, he does what he has to, to become a millionaire.

Humor runs rampant here, even as the political climate darkens with the 1938 German occupation of Czechoslovakia. This is a side of the war seldom seen in film, as Jan’s political leanings and romantic yearnings lead him to marry and buy into Hitler’s agenda regarding the creation of a “master race”.

While there are many humorous moments in this movie, one scene in particular involving a bed, a portrait and a fuhrer-loving young lady, is laugh-out loud funny. Mel Brooks funny. I can’t believe I’m laughing at this, funny. It is –as I said– an odd little film, loaded with irony, small moments and events that lead to one of the all-time cinematic twists of fate: a gem of a plot point that this reviewer did not see coming.

Filmed in Prague and the surrounding area, I Served the King of England has much to recommend it, including a marvelous cast and terrific script by director Jiri Menzel and the late Bohumil Hrabal-whose novel provided the source material. Add to that a visually-stunning movie full of great settings and sets, beautiful women, mouth-watering food sequences and a satisfying conclusion. It is not to be missed.

And speaking of missing things – Some picsandpans2 followers have missed the occasional food find. That being the case, and as the ‘pans’ in 'picsandpans' refers to such culinary delights, I plan to devote my next posting to some of the more interesting and purchase-worthy foods I've come across over the past year. Aside from a few local offerings, most are available throughout the country. Until then, you’ll have to feast on great movies like this one. Bon Appetit!

Yoo-Hoo Mrs. Goldberg!

2011-02-13T12:38:00.000-06:00

Yoo-Hoo Mrs. Goldberg! takes those of us over the age of fifty back to the black and white days of television, when Gertrude Berg brought her well-loved radio show to CBS.

Berg was the Oprah of her day: the first woman to create, produce, write and star in her own vehicle, the first to win an Emmy for her efforts, and the first to lose a top-ten show for refusing to fire one of her cast members.

For those of you who are too young or didn’t have access to a TV back in the 1950s, I offer a little background. If Berg was, as I suggest, the Oprah of her day, she was also the Tina Feye of her generation: a woman who not only acted but wrote the episodes she appeared in, first on radio, and then TV.

A supreme business woman, Gertrude Berg barreled her way onto the small screen as Molly Goldberg – a Jewish immigrant who shared a cozy apartment with her husband Jake, two very American teenage children (Rosalie and Sammy), and Molly’s brother David, or “Uncle David” as he was most often called.

The Goldbergs lived happily in the Bronx, a working class, New York neighborhood where neighbors regularly raised their windows in order to converse with their friends across the alley (“Yoo-Hoo! Mrs. Goldberg!"), and everyday problems were gently and creatively solved in thirty minutes.

The documentary begins with Berg’s own story, which was a good bit darker –at least in her formative years, than the fictional one she would later create. We learn of her mother’s decent into mental illness, and her father’s inability to make a decent living or support his daughter’s dreams.

It wasn’t until she met and married Englishman Lewis Berg that her life took a happy turn. A staunch supporter of his young bride's ambitions, the chemical engineer moved the family to New York city, where his wife could hone her craft. by 1929 Gertrude had won a spot on the NBC radio network, with a daily show she dubbed The Rise of the Goldbergs.

The show quickly morphed into The Goldbergs, a 15-minute slice of newly-American pie. Like Levy’s Rye, you didn’t have to be Jewish to love it. An instant hit, it demanded nearly all of Berg’s time, as she went about the task of rehearsing and performing by day, and writing the next day’s episode by night, with just an hour or two break for dinner with her family.

The Goldbergs transitioned into television in 1949, moving to its Monday nighttime slot on CBS. It was the first situation comedy of the new medium, and would earn Berg an Emmy as the first woman to receive an Emmy for her work in a comedy series.

Like Arthur Godfrey, Gertrude Berg delivered the sponsor’s commercials as if they were part of the show. In her case, that meant resting Molly’s ample arms on her dining room windowsill and touting the virtues of Sanka Instant Coffee.

But Yoo Yoo Mrs. Goldberg is more than just another nostalgic look at television’s so-called “Golden Age”, with the documentary taking you down the dark and winding road of McCarthyism. At the height of the show's popularity, Philip Loeb -Jake to Gertrude's Molly, was labeled a communist sympathizer, blacklisted and forced to resign. Berg stood by him, but to no avail. In the end her loyalty would cost her dearly. Though it consistently won its time slot, and Sanka’s sponsorship translated into a 50% spike in sales, the show was cancelled, replaced by a new sit com featuring a thirty-something red head and her Cuban bandleader husband.

Depressed, and unable to get work of any kind, Philip Loeb would take his own life, and The Goldbergs would languish in nowhereland for nearly two years before being picked up by another network. But by then it’s time had come and gone.

Gratefully, a few old kinescopes have survived. You’ll find segments of some, (one of which features a young unknown by the name of Anne Bancroft), along with a terrifically clever episode built around the naming of a new baby, on the bonus disc. Other goodies include Berg’s appearance on Person to Person with Edward R. Morrow, a lengthy narrative on Ed Sullivan’s Christmas show, insights from some of Berg’s now-grown grand children, family photos, home movies and words of Molly-sparked wisdom from the likes of Norman Lear and Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg.

The package also includes a totally unrelated piece of film that the producer/writer Aviva Kempner felt compelled to include, and an embarrassing series of outtakes featuring Kempner’s family shouting “Yoo Hoo, Mrs. Goldberg!” into the camera.

Despite this last piece of nonsense, if you can get past the original show’s crudely drawn graphics and outdated pace, you'll find a wealth of information and entertainment in this two-disc series. And while Yoo-Hoo Molly Goldberg isn't everyone's bowl of borscht, if you have an interest in the origins of the situation comedy, feminism, Jewish culture, New York in the 1950s or the infamous black list, you’ll find much to think about in this well-researched tribute.

As for the show itself, compared to today's slick pace quick cuts, and edgy humor, it will appear more-than-a-bit dated. But that's all right, at least, with me. Eli Mintz as Uncle David, and Gertrude Berg bring so much heart to each episode, you'll wonder how so many have forgotten them. This, along with the fact that the look, feel, and lessons learned in their home and as seen from Molly's window, are still magical, all these years later.

Cairo Time

2011-01-31T10:01:00.001-06:00

Given the fact that Cairo has barreled its way to the top of the world news this week, it seems like a good time to introduce you to a small but beautifully made film called Cairo Time.

Written and directed by Canadian Ruba Nidda, it is one of those films that grows on you, which is to say that when I initially watched it, I found it a bit slow, its plot simple, and dialogue sparse. And yet, this quiet little story stuck with me. The bonus section of the DVD was instrumental in opening my eyes and mind to what an interesting film it really was, in that both the interviewer and the actors brought out points that I had not considered: points well worth examining. Even more so now than when I first saw it some months ago.

As one film critic so eloquently put it, Cairo Time is “a slow walk through ancient landscape.” It is the simple story of American Juliette Grant, an empty nester who happens to be a magazine editor, though far removed in temperament from someone like Vogue’s Anna Wintour, (as immortalized in Merle Streep’s Miranda Priestly in 2006’s The Devil Wears Prada. Though, as portrayed by Patricia Clarkson, she might just as well been a housewife, schoolteacher or shopkeeper. She is, in fact, the wife of UN diplomat Mark Grant, (Tom McCamus) who has been working in Gaza, where he oversees a refugee camp.

When the film opens our heroine - the fair-haired, fifty-year-old Juliette, is going through Customs, having flown from the states to meet Mark for a vacation in Cairo, but soon finds that circumstance within the camp are such that he can’t get away. He sends former U.N. employee Tareq Khalifa (played by a then 44–year-old Alexander Siddig), in his stead. Tareq is a gentle soul, who resigned his post under Mark to take over his father’s coffee shop. Tareq is Muslim. An Arab―someone Sidding described back in 2009 as being a direct contradiction to the more violent roles he has played in the past. With Juliette left to fend for herself, Tareq takes on the role of guide and friend. And over time, bonds between the two are formed, affections are felt, and choices are made.

The going is slow here – the film could almost be called Real Time rather than Cairo Time. We are given a chance to see the relationship between Juliette and Tareq grow. Had there been quick cuts, and a faster pace, we would not have felt the same way about these two people, which is to say that in this case, slow is a good thing.

What we do see is a city that is hot, crowded, dirty and a bit frightening on one hand, and beautiful and calm on the other. Pyramids can be seen in the not-too-distant distance; children and goats mix and mingle with cars and businessmen.

The plot basically revolves around how Juliette spends her time as she waits for her detained but devoted husband to return to Cairo so that, among other things, they can see the Pyramids together. It is a tale of restraint and affection, where things are insinuated rather than investigated. Though, at 37, writer/director Nidda was somewhat younger than her middle-aged characters, she skillfully and quietly managed to inhabit their dilemmas, thoughts, and decisions. In the DVD’s accompanying Q&A, both she and the film’s stars note that this story wouldn’t have worked had the characters been younger. "When you’re older," notes Siddig, “you worry about mistakes more. Acts become more significant and have more at stake.” And so this is a romantic story where the smallest of gestures divulge great affection.

Never having been to Egypt, I found the vistas and pictorials fascinating – a tribute to both the land and cinematographer Luc Montpellier. One has to wonder what it will look like once the dust has cleared.

Siddig is handsome, warm, and attractive in a non-movie star way. Up until now he has, apparently, played more volatile characters. In the DVD’s bonus piece he says that he hopes that people who see this film will come to know that while there are those whose motives are not pure, there are many more good, kind and giving men in that part of the world.

The fact that Cairo is currently in chaos makes this 2009 film all the more interesting. While Juliette’s safety is a concern, and the volatility of the area underscored by her husband’s absence and a brief but frightening bus scene, it is not a political film as such– at least I didn’t see it that way. But now, as word comes that statues of Tutankhamun and other irreplaceable antiquities have been damaged or destroyed by looters over the past few days, the images captured in this 2009 film take on a new importance.

In and of itself, Cairo Time won’t win any awards. Some reviewers criticize the director for choosing to avoid the trendier side of the city. Others point to the fact that Alexander Sidding’s accent is not that of an Egyptian, and Clarkson’s attire is politically incorrect – particularly given the fact that she works for a fashion magazine and would be aware of such things. Despite those and other perceived flaws,I believe it is worth seeing, for no other reason than that every now and again we need to get away from the highly predictable, formula romantic pics where strangers meet and fall into each other’s arms, despite the consequences.

Slow? Yes. This movie is slow. But, as Ms. Clarkson put it, "the silences are earned" here. For it is what is not said that makes Cairo Time a movie to remember.

Mid-August Lunch

2011-01-09T19:12:00.000-06:00

While other folks were sifting through the ever-shrinking Sunday paper, preparing for the coming work week or whisking the last vestiges of food off the city’s supermarket shelves in anticipation of a major snowfall, I was watching Mid-August Lunch, a 2008 75-minute labor of love the New York Times referred to as "a luminous sliver of a film."

What this Italian trifle lacks in size and scope, it makes up in charm. It is the simple tale of an unemployed middle-aged fellow name Gianni (Gianni Di Gregorio) who lives with Valeria, his ninety-three year old, strong-willed mother in their working class neighborhood condo.

Forget your idea of what a condo should look like. This one is old and dilapidated, with neither air conditioning or doorman. The pint-sized apartment is devoid of granite counter tops and flat-screen TVs. The paint is chipping. The air is thick. The stove is dated and the elevator is rickety. It couldn’t cost much to live there, and yet as we soon find out, hard times have kept Gianni from paying his share of the condominium fees for over three years, and the natives are restless.

As the film opens, it is mid summer – August – and the day before Pranzo di Ferragosto, one of those sun-soaked holidays where residents head for someplace other than their place to celebrate. Gianni and his mother are two of the few who remain, she, watching her pint-sized portable TV, he, nursing his mild heart condition with a glass of wine or two or three. When condo manager Luigi knocks, Valeria fails to answer, not so much for fear of strangers, but because she knows Luigi is there to collect.

With no money to offer, and much to be gained, a bargain is struck. Luigi is itching to get out of town, but can’t leave his elderly mother (Marina) alone. If Gianni will ‘baby sit’ her for the next day or so, he will forgive his debt. Sounds like a plan, and so it is that Gianni and Valeria agree to welcome Luigi’s mother (Marina Cacciotti) with – if not open arms, than at least, a sofa bed’s-worth of comfort and some of Gianni’s tasty vitals.

But wait – there’s more! Luigi arrives not only with Mama Marina, but Auntie Maria (Maria Calì) who, it turns out, has a wee bit of dementia. But there’s no turning back, and Gianni’s heart begins to pound from the stress.

Fast forward, as the doctor arrives – allaying Gianni’s fears that he is having a heart attack, and promising a full work up after the holiday (“if”) Gianni will tend to the doc’s elderly mother (Grazia Cesarini Sforza) while he does a holiday hospital shift. There’s nothing to say but “Yes”, and soon Grazia arrives, complete with a full list of do’s, don’ts and medications she must take throughout the day.

And so it is that this little apartment becomes a home for the aged literally overnight, – with each of the four ladies trying to carve out her own place in the pecking order. As the exasperated Gianni, writer/director Di Gregorio is low key and totally believable, as are the four ladies who make up the list of major players in this winsome little film.

It's interesting to note that the idea for this film came from personal experience. It seems that despite the fact that Di Gregorio was married with children, his aging mother expected him to leave his family and take care of her in her small apartment. And because he was a good Mediterranean-born son, he did just that for the better part of a decade.

As Gregorio's condominium debts grew, the manager approached him with a proposition similar to the one made in the film. If Di Gregorio would pop downstairs each day and play a game of cards with the manager's aging mom, the debt would be forgiven.

Unlike Gianni, Di Gregorio declined. He said there was no way he could manage it, but over the years he thought about what would have happened had he agreed. The script for Mid-August Lunch grew out of such contemplations.

It took a long time to get this movie made. As with other films about the elderly (Driving Miss Daisy comes to mind) investors weren't anxious to produce a film about 'old people.' When financing did come through, it was very limited, which was one of the main reasons non-professionals were recruited.

In fact, the only professional in the troupe is Alfonso Santagata, who shines in the role of the condo manager. Gianni’s friend Viking was played by Luigi Marchett, a lifelong friend of Di Gregorio's. Similarly, the role of the doctor is played by his friend and physician, who used his notes on his own mother's care as a prop.

Of the four women in Lunch, only one had anything close to an acting credit prior to filming. Even Di Gregorio was a novice. He became the 'star' of the piece when the actor he had hoped to secure bowed out. With money tight, and time a wasting, the producers suggested that he take on the role, which, they pointed out, called for a middle-aged man who liked his wine, had lived with his mother as an adult, and knew what it was like to be in debt.

Making life easier for all involved, Di Garegorio allowed the ladies to use their own first names in the film, along with some personal keepsakes. Other treasured props include a tablecloth and crockery from his mother's apartment, which, as you may have guessed by now, is the very same apartment you see on screen. The owners gladly gave him permission to shoot there, in hopes that if the film actually made any money, Di Garegorio would finally be able to pay off the last of his condo debts.

The resulting film is a happy mix of home-style Italian cooking, unlikely friendships and gentle humor. Bonus-section treats include an interview with De Garegorio and a trip down memory lane, as the writer/director/actor visits with each of his unassuming co-stars. These one-on-one in-home conversations give you an idea of how much the ladies got out of their unexpected burst of fame, at a time when they least expected it.

Mid-August Lunch, like other films I have featured here, is far from a perfect piece. It is, at times slow, and the cinematography won’t win any awards. But the fact that it isn’t slick, has no quick cuts or deep conversations and lacks any star power, makes it all the more charming and worth while.

Short and not altogether sweet, funny and touching, this Italian treat is one of life’s simple pleasures.

Sometimes less really is more.

God Grew Tired of Us

2010-12-05T11:49:00.000-06:00

God Grew Tired of Us is a truly unique film: a tale of then, and now, pain and promise, joy and longing. It is the true story of people in a distant land who, despite living a life devoid of what we in the U.S. would call the most basic of necessities, lived a good—even joyous life, only to have that life destroyed by civil war, and resurrected in a totally different and often perplexing form.

Sparsely narrated by Nicole Kidman, and directed by Christopher Quinn, God Grew Tired of Us begins in Southern Sudan, where, prior to 1983, a group known as the Dinkas enjoyed a primitive, yet exceedingly rewarding life, farming and tending their cattle over a rich, lush landscape. They bathed in the Nile, grew what they ate, and developed a strong sense of family and community.

This some-would-say idyllic life came to an abrupt end during the second Sudanese civil war between the Muslim north and the black Christian and animist south. In–as they say, 'the blink of an eye', Northern government troops raided the Dinkas’ villages, raping their women, murdering their men, sexually mutilating their male youth, and taking those who remained as slaves. Children were herded into huts and burned alive Animals were slaughtered or left to die.

The only villagers to survive the attack – the so-called "lucky ones"– were the youngsters (mostly boys between the ages of 3 and 11) who were tending cattle in the forest during the rampage. Escaping into the African jingle and across the desert, 27,000 of them traveled more than one thousand miles on foot, in search of a safe haven.

Many would not make it, succumbing to thirst, hunger, pestilence, animal attacks and bombing raids. After a three-year stay in Panyidu at a UN and church-charity-sponsored camp on the Ethiopian border, they were forced to flee when the fighting grew closer. Backtracking through the Sudan, they headed toward Kenya, arriving at a camp in Kakuma in 1992, and what they hoped would be a temporary sanctuary.

Using an indelible collection of archival and more recent footage, God Grew Tired of Us takes us from those earliest of days through 2002, when the first group of refuges were relocated in American cities around the country. We see what they loved and lost, follow them across the desert to that end-of-the road camp where they would languish for more than ten years, and watch as several of the young men make the mind-bending transition to life in these United States.

The jump from archival to then-current film begins in Kakuma, shortly before the chosen few had to say their good-byes. We get a sense of how hard it was for them to leave, as great expectations mixed and mingled with fear of the unknown, guilt at leaving this extended family, and worry that they would never be able to return to their native land.

The bulk of the film focuses on three of the refugees (John Bul Dau, Panther Bior and Daniel Abul Pach) as they settle into life in America. Their feelings are intense. Confused, awestruck, frightened and hopeful, they are barraged with all manner of first-time experiences, having never turned on a light, slept in a bed, set an alarm clock, seen a refrigerator, used a toilet, come upon a trash can, taken a shower, worn shoes, or stepped inside a supermarket. The only thing I can equate it to would be if somehow I was plucked from my easy chair and set down on Mars, with only the barest notion of how to survive.

"I hear there is something called an ‘apartment’" says one boy, shortly before they leave Kakuma. "What does it look like?" asks another. "I’ve never used electricity" says a third, adding,"so I imagine that it will be very hard for me to do that."

Still, they press on, willing to do whatever it takes, be it "digging latrines, cleaning dog’s teeth" or "singing songs to old people so that they’ll fall asleep" in order to make enough money to improve their lot in life, as well as the lives of those they left behind.

And so we watch them as they make their way, marveling at our cultural differences – ("In U.S. there is only one wife" notes one of the boys, "These things are going to affect us"), while trying to make sense our seeming indifference to those in need.

Their reactions and moods―a mixture of gratitude and guilt― are at the heart of this beautifully crafted film. Inspiring on so many levels, it is a tribute to a people who despite all that has befallen them, remain inherently happy, loyal, loving and true to their heritage.

It is amazing that in this day and age, when news is instantaneously transmitted through all manner of technology that their plight was not recognized sooner, and aid did not come quicker. When, in 2001, help did arrive, some 3,800 boys were relocated in Pittsburgh, Syracuse, New York and Omaha, and thirty-four other U.S. cities.

Discontinued after 9/11 for security reasons, the program that brought Daniel, John and Panther to America was eventually re-instituted in 2004, shortly before the end of the second civil war. But their mission is far from over, as, by some counts, 17,000 young people have yet to be relocated.

Some choose to remain. Nearly all hold on to the hope that they will find lost family members alive and well, and that one day they will be able to return to their villages. Since the film was produced, programs have been established to help them search for their families, retain their culture, get an education and make their way into the workforce. But it is slow going.

God Grew Tired of Us is a remarkable documentary—a mixture of heartbreak and joy, wonder and wisdom, success and failure. I hope you will step out of your comfort zone and seek it out. It is everything a documentary should be, and more.

As with all of the films and TV shows I write about in this blog, God Grew Tired of US is available through Netflix.

Dr. Bronner's Magic Soapbox

2010-11-14T21:05:00.000-06:00

Well, It’s been a while since I last wrote. In the interim I’ve watched a lot of DVD offerings, some good, some bad, some really bad. But every now and again there was a film that coaxed a smile, sparked a tear, or got me to thinking about someone, some place or something I had never thought about before.

Dr. Bronner's Magic Soapbox is an imperfect but often fascinating documentary. It’s a film about—of all things—a family-owned-and-operated soap company. The story is unique, the people are interesting, and the product (Dr. Bronner’s Magic Soap) is a natural. I know, because despite its flaws, the film peeked my interest to the point where I actually went out and bought a bar.

Unfortunately, the film itself is very uneven, often transgressing from its subject matter for no apparent reason. I suspect the filmmaker used these fillers to compensate for a lack of archival footage, filing in the gaps with a little of this, and much-too-much of that. As a result, the film is a bit like one of those old-time frozen "TV dinners", with too much stuffing and not enough meat.

That said, if you can overlook or fast-forward through those ill-placed sequences, I think you’ll find this odd little documentary to be well worth your while.

It's the story of Dr. Emmanuel Bronner who, like his father before him, was a master soap maker and chemist. Unlike his father, he was—how can I put this? —a bit unstable. But boy oh boy, could he make soap. Castile soap. One-size-fits-all and does-just-about-everything soap.

Fans of the stuff say they use it to bathe themselves, shampoo their hair, brush their teeth, sanitize their kitchen counters, mop their floors and wash their dog. From vegans to world-peace activists, Dr. Bonner’s Castile Soap is beloved by many, not only for its versatility, but the message carved into each and every bar. And what would that be?

All-One. That’s it. That’s all. That’s enough.

The film examines the origin of Bronner's mantra, which turns out to be an abbreviated version of All-One-God-Faith, and fills us in on the life and times of this eccentric (to-say-the-least) individual. While the self-proclaimed doctor claimed to have escaped from a concentration camp during the Holocaust, it appears he had emigrated to states long before the war. In truth, he had escaped—not from a prison camp, but an Illinois mental hospital, where he was being treated for manic depression.

In brief—but insightful clips, we see Bronner lecturing to anyone who will listen about his all-encompassing, All-One philosophy. It was a passion that would quickly overtake his life, leading him to virtually abandon his children. Bronner’s son Ralph notes that his dad’s response to any such accusations was simply, “What’s more important – uniting spaceship earth or raising your own family?”

While any ill feelings may be hiding behind Ralph’s soft-spoken and genuinely kind manner, he has chosen to continue promoting the virtues of the soap and a peaceful existence. At seventy, he is the face of the family business, traveling the country, and giving away free bars of soap and hundreds of dollars at a time to unsuspecting but grateful strangers. A born promoter, he stands on his virtual soapbox, renting local theaters for an evening or two, in order to put on his free, one-man-show about what else, but Dr. Bronner's Magic soap.

Back at the factory, Bronner promotes peaceful co-existence in a very real way, purchasing olive oil (a key ingredient in his soap) from farmers on both sides of the Israeli/Palestinian border.

It's a start.

Dr. Bronner's Magic Soapbox is loaded with interesting, thought-provoking stuff—if you don't mind a little stuffing. Who knows, it just might inspire you to buy a bar, lather up and save the world.

DOC MARTIN: An extremely clever television series from across the pond.

2010-07-30T09:37:00.000-05:00

Last week it was Christmas in July at my house. I stuck in a thumb and pulled out a plum of a DVD- or at least an unexpected treasure from among the new releases at NetFlix.

You know how you feel when you’re reading a good book and don’t want it to end? Well, that’s the way I felt about the BBC’s Doc Martin series. Last year after watching the final episode of season 3, I thought it was over. After all, the series had gone off the air in 2008. The writers had― I thought―wrapped things up pretty well. The ending. clever, the future of the main characters left to the viewer’s imagination.

Little did I know that the series’ star, Martin Clunes, and his wife—series producer Philippe Braithwaite, opted to take a two-year break from filming to catch up on life, and treat their daughter to her first vacation since the show began.

And so it was that, unbeknownst to me, Season 4 commenced in 2009, and appeared among NetFlix's new releases earlier this month, just in time to liven up the summer’s dry spell.

I came to Doc Martin after enjoying another gem of a series called William and Mary. That show starred a tall, average-looking but extremely gifted actor named Martin Clunes. Equally adept at drama and comedy, Clunes has a way of disappearing into his characters. The fact that he doesn't look like a leading man, serves both him and the story well.

If you haven’t seen William and Mary, you need to put it on your ‘to do’ list. It is exceptional, and not to be missed. Doc Martin is far lighter fare, with lots of twists and turns and special moments along the way.

The funny thing about Doc Martin is that Klunes’ character (doctor/surgeon Martin Ellingham) isn’t a very likeable chap. Truth be told, he does a lot of things that annoy me. But somehow, I have grown to like him in spite of myself – or should I say, himself?

As the series opens, Dr. Ellingham (an anagram for series creator Dominic Minghella) has just arrived in the fictitious fishing village of Portwenn, having left the big city of London, where he was a successful and well-respected surgeon. Why the sudden, and some would say downward career change? It seems that out of nowhere, the doc became hemophobic, getting down right queasy at the very sight of blood—not a great attribute for a vascular surgeon. But what was a deal-breaker in London, is just a blip on the radar screen in Portwenn.

As the town’s only physician, Doc Martin's waiting room is often packed with people of all ages and medical complaints. Though his bedside manner is virtually non-existent, and he turns away more patients than he tends to, the villagers are, for the most part, quite fond of him. It is a feeling that is in no way reciprocal, as he finds the majority of his patients foolish, annoying and unworthy of his time or doctoring. Pity the poor hypochondriac who wanders in for an ace bandage or bottle of sugar pills.

On the other hand, the doc has saved a lot of unsuspecting town folk and visitors from a wide variety of ills, thanks to his quick diagnosis both in and out of his ‘surgery’ or clinic. But when it comes to personal relationships, the doc is, to say the least, socially challenged. It appears that the only two people he cares anything about are his Auntie Joan and a winsome school teacher/ headmistress named Louisa Glass (Caroline Catz).

His affection for his aunt stems from a childhood of summers spent in her care on her Portwenn farm. Though we’ve never seen him show her any kind of real affection (not a kiss, not a hug, not an ‘I love you, Auntie” in 4 years'-worth of episodes), we know by the way he acts when she falls ill or has any kind of problem, that he cares. As for Louisa, he seems unable to say or do anything even mildly romantic without screwing it up. One moment he’s kissing her, the next, he’s offering her breath mints. Not exactly the stuff that dreams are made of.

So what does Louisa see in him? Her attraction to this stodgy, distant, unromantic and generally rude man is somewhat of puzzlement, but then again, 7 million viewers a week found him intriguing, so why not Louisa?

I suspect the answer lies in the hope that this curmudgeon of a man, smile-free, and totally tactless, is, beneath his highly starched collar and wardrobe full of pin strips, a good soul. There are hints of it every now and again: glimmers of hope― signs of a caring heart, and wish to do better.

Whether he will or won’t, one thing is certain: he is an exceptional physician, with a knack for diagnosing unsuspected or misdiagnosed ailments. This particular talent makes for some interesting plot twists and unexpected endings. Just when you think you know how know things are going to wind up, something happens, and all bets are off.

Will Martin and Louisa wind up together? Will he ever say the right thing at the right time? Will he ever conquer his phobia? Return to the city and leave Louisa and the good people of Portwenn behind? Perhaps series 5, which is scheduled to begin shooting in 2011, will reveal all, though I suspect not.

By the time season 5 reaches our shores, it will be 2012, which gives you plenty of time to catch up on the first 4 years of the series. Its exceptionally well-written scripts and a supporting cast are guaranteed to keep you glued to your TV, DVD player or computer screen.

Stephanie Cole’s Auntie Joan is feisty and warm, stubborn and softhearted all at the same time: a woman who has rescued strays (human and otherwise) all of her life, including her own nephew.

Other quirky but lovable characters include plumber/ restaurateur Bert Large – (who is), and his son, Al, (who isn’t), played respectively by Ian McNeice and Stewart Wright. Pauline Lamb (Katherine Parkinson), is the doc’s feisty and slightly dippy receptionist, office manager and blood-taker, while Sally Tishell (Selina Cadell), owns and operates Portween’s one and only grocery/chemist (drug store). A major fan of Doc Martin’s, she is a bit of a hypochondriac, wearing a neck brace despite the fact that there is nothing wrong with her neck. Purveyor of pharmaceuticals and other telltale items, she knows everybody’s business, and shares her opinions with anyone who will listen.

In addition to these and other series' staples, a wide assortment of characters weave in and out of Portwenn, including Dr. Edith Montgomery (Lia Williams), who appears for the first time in season 4. Aside from being sexually aggressive, she is, in many ways, a female version of the doc. How she fits into the picture is one of those surprises I was talking about that keep you guessing.

Filmed on location in the fishing town of Port Isaac on the North Cornwall coast, Doc Martin offers up an inviting picture of a near-perfect place to if not live, vacation. Seaside retreats and winding roads dotted with family farms and rows of sea-worn cottages beckon viewers from as far away as Australia to come and take a look. And many do.

If you, like me, are tired of reality TV programs and other questionable fare, take the high road to Portwenn. It may take you an episode or two to get into the series, but once hooked, you’ll be in for a heck of a ride.

A SECRET - A compelling tale with a French twist

2010-04-19T15:20:00.000-05:00

Based on an autobiographical novel by Philippe Grimbert, 2007’s A Secret is, on one level, the story of a Jewish family's struggle to survive during the Second World War. On another level, it is a tale of forbidden love and its emotional consequences.

It's also a study in timing—the "if onlys","what ifs" and "should have beens" in life. We have all, at some point, been the beneficiaries of good timing: arriving at the bus stop just as our bus pulls up, or being the fifth caller when that’s what it takes to win the prize. Similarly, we've all experienced some measure of bad timing: being the sixth caller, or arriving at the bus stop moments after the bus has pulled away.

More often than not, timing―good or bad— means little in the grand scheme of things. But every once in a while, timing can totally change a person's life. This last scenario is the premise of this most unusual film.

We pick up the story in the spring of 1940, just days before the German Occupation. Inside a synagogue somewhere in Paris, Maxim Grimberg (a name he will later change to "Grimbert"), an athletically-gifted, ruggedly handsome fellow, is about to wed Hannah, his soft-spoken, non-athletic but adoring bride-to-be.

Moments before the ceremony, Hannah’s brother Robert and his well-toned, beautiful blond wife, Tania, rush in. Introducing their mates, Hannah and Robert innocently brag about their spouse’s virtues (Robert: "She’s a swimmer." Hannah: "Maxim’s won wrestling"), unaware of the instant and overwhelming attraction between the two.

The tale is told in retrospect by a thirty-something François (Mathieu Amalric), son of Maxim and Tania. No misprint, he is Tania's child. Early on, François realizes that he can never live up to his father's dreams, and yearns to know what brought about the seemingly impenetrable wedge that forged itself between them from the first. His quest for the truth ultimately leads to questions answered and secrets revealed.

Though this is basically a war-time saga, Grimbert’s script spans several decades, zigzagging back and forth in time from the early 1940s to the mid 1980s. Turning a basic cinematic device on its head, cinematographer Gérard de Battista calls up the past in rich brushes of Technicolor, while filming the present day in black and white.

The device works, as we are treated to lush representations of a courting life that, in many cases, is enhanced and idealized by the young Grimbert's imagination. Attention to detail is evident in every frame, thanks in large part to costumer Jacqueline Bouchard and production designer Jean-Pierre Kohut-Svelko. A 1950s swimming pool sequence is particularly rich in spirit and authenticity.

The casting is equally stunning, in that both Patrik Briel (Maxime) and C’ecile De France (Tania) are athletic, strong and good-looking. DeFrance’s Tania reminds me of a young Sharon Stone minus the tough, intentionally sexy edge, while Briel’s Maxime is reminiscent of Yves Montand in his prime. And, like Montand in his prime, Briel is wildly popular in France, both as a singer and actor.

As the waif-like bride-to-be Hannah, Ludivine Sagnier is the perfect counterpoint to De France’s athletically-gifted Tania. Dressed down to look like a pleasant but average-looking young woman, she looks nothing like the sexy savvy Julie she portrayed in Francois Ozon’s film, Swimming Pool.

And speaking of Julies, Julie Depardieu, as long-time family friend and confidant, Louise, provides a quiet but strong note to this complex and engrossing tale. She is, as it turns out, a keeper of secrets, one of which, is her own.

While the war (including the Holocaust) is in itself a character in this piece, there are only a few stock shots of actual warfare, and virtually no concentration camp footage. What we do see is the inevitable impact that history had on the Grimberg's life long after the war was won.

In less gifted hands, A Secret could have easily warped into a heavy-handed soap opera. It is only because Grimbert and director Claude Miller chose to address the major issues with subtlety and restraint that the film is as good as it is.

That’s not to say that there aren’t a few exquisite and emotionally-charged moments. One scene in particular stands out, as Maxime views a lake-bound Tania from his bedroom windows. I can still see him rushing from sill to sill to catch a fleeting glance of her, much as Boris Pasternak's distraught poet raced frantically up the stairs to the rooftop window of his ice castle to watch the ill-fated Lara ride away with Victor Komarovsky in Dr. Zhivago.

As I read over these notes, I realize that I haven’t told you much about the actual plot of this incredible film, but to tell you more would rob you of some of its most engrossing and thought-provoking moments. What I can say, is that A Secret explores the way everyday people react in times of war...how they deal with loss or the possibility of loss, and love, and hope. The fact that it is based on a real family - Grimbert's family - makes it all the more relevant. A Secret is an extraordinary film. I urge you to see it.

O'Horton & Schultze Gets the Blues

2009-12-29T11:12:00.000-06:00

Some time in the early 1950s, life insurance ads featuring cheery-faced, grey-haired men and women began appearing in digest-sized magazines like Coronet. They were pictured swinging golf clubs, smiling beneath palm trees and posing happily in vacation-like settings. A 1955 headline over a photograph of a man holding a fishing rod, reads, "How I retired in 15 years with $250 a month."

By 1958, this on-going campaign featured a husband and wife enjoying life in sunny California. Above them, a somewhat updated headline read: "How we retired in 15 years with $300 a month."

Eventually, inflation killed the campaign if not the dream of a carefree retirement. Even in these not-so-golden years, there are those who long and plan for a time when they won't have to work. There are, however, others who find the prospect of an unstructured life more than a bit daunting, their identity wrapped snugly in what they do for a living, and how well they do it. Over the years, several films have attempted to capture the transition to life in the not-so-fast lane. Of these, Norway's O'Horton and Germany's Schultze Gets the Blues are two of the best.

Written, directed and produced by Bent Hamer, O'Horton is a quirky film centering around the days immediately preceding and following a railroad engineer's mandatory retirement. Hamer charmed his way into my heart with Kitchen Stories, and I was anxious to see what he could do outside the kitchen.

As it turns out, O'Horton is a good bit darker and more adventurous than Stories, but still in keeping with Hamer’s penchant for keeping things simple, and letting the pictures tell the story.

In case you're wondering, the “O” in “O’Horton" stands for “Odd”—the central character’s given name. Pronounced "owed", it is, apparently, a fairly common name in Norway, and while some critics believe Hamer chose it for its English translation and pronunciation, the screen writer denies it. And I believe him, as Odd is not an odd man. Solitary? Yes. A creature of habit? Perhaps. But odd? No.

If anything, Odd, as portrayed by Baard Owe, is a rather ordinary member of the working class. A railroad engineer by trade, he has always lived by the rules, and in Odd’s world, those rules dictate that he retire at the age of sixty-seven.

We meet him on the morning of what is to be his next-to-last run. As the credits roll, we see a train passing by his modest Oslo apartment building. Cut to his studio apartment, where he is in the midst of a long-standing morning routine: packing his lunch, filling his thermos and covering his parakeet’s cage before setting out on foot for the nearby train terminal.

He arrives just as his train pulls into the station. We see only the front end of the engine. As it comes to a halt, we hear the wheels squeal, the sound of additional cars hooking up, and the slow steady shuffle and eventual acceleration of the train as it makes its way out of the station and into the stark white landscape of a typical Norwegian winter.

Cue the music, and what has to be one of the most beautifully-filmed train sequences I have ever seen. It is a study in black and white, with Hamer using three cameras to provide breathtaking views. There is the overhead shot taken from a helicopter – showing us the expanse of the land and the sure steady path of the train. A second camera is placed just behind Odd, where he sits―trusty pipe in hand, anticipating every twist and turn along the way. A third camera provides ground-level close-ups of the train and surrounding countryside.

The total effect is spell-binding, particularly the cabin footage. Here, we see what Odd sees; the whitest of whites, followed by the blackest of blacks, as the train makes its way in and out of tunnels and snow-covered towns.

Scheduled to make his last run the following morning, Odd arrives in Bergen, where he is honored at the obligatory retirement dinner. This sequence is one of the film’s best: a charming, whimsical piece of folderol, during which he receives a silver train-topped trophy from the railroad, and a wonderfully humorous tribute from his fellow engineers.

It is in these opening sequences that we learn that Odd is a quiet man who is uncomfortable in the spotlight, choosing to be an observer rather than participant at his own retirement party.

When circumstances cause him to miss his last run, Odd's life takes an unexpected turn, trashing the one post-retirement plan he had in place―a return flight to Oslo. What would be a minor snag for most, is, literally, a major departure for this life-long railroad man, and I found myself wondering whether it was, if only subconsciously, an act of defiance: a non-confrontational way of getting back at a company that has no use for a loyal employee of a certain age. Look Ma, no trains!

But ma isn’t listening, as she sits by her rest home window, lost in a world of her own. Yet despite the fact that she no longer has the ability to listen or respond to her son, she remains an ever-present force in his life, her lost dreams infiltrating his own.

With no plans for the future, Odd takes refuge in the faces, places and creature comforts that have been a part of his working man’s routine. Among them, a neighborhood tobacco shop, a local restaurant where, like Cheers, everyone knows his name, and a boarding house, where a smitten innkeeper has kept a room and hot meal waiting for him on the nights when his run ended in Bergen.

Yet even amidst the old and familiar, there are off-putting moments, as one unexpected dilemma leads to another. Before long, the newly-retired engineer finds himself taking chances and making decisions that fly in the face of rules and convention, and are, at the very least, out of character.

After one such predicament in a local gym, Odd comes upon an elderly gentleman named Trygve Sussner, superbly played by veteran actor Espen Skjønberg. Lying on a city pavement on a cold winter’s night, it appears that Dr. Sussner has had a bit too much to drink. Odd helps the old man to his feet and into cab: a kindness that leads to a series of events and givens that are not quite what they seem. As these events unfold, and the givens fall away, we learn the back story that shaped Odd’s life, and will ultimately impact his future.

Towards the end of the film, Sussner confides that as a young man, he had a gift for being able to see with his eyes closed, and would often take to the road blind-folded. Inviting Odd to join him for a pre-dawn drive, the old soul looks around his snow globe of a town and remarks, “Today is a beautiful day for driving blind.” It is a statement that far exceeds its literal meaning, causing the once cautious engineer to do some blind driving of his own.

Like O’Horton, Schultze Gets the Blues follows a man who has been forced into retirement, without a clue as to how to fill in the blanks. Despite the fact that Horton is a Norwegian engineer and Schultze is German miner, their stories, at least at first blush, appear to be quite similar. The engineer receives a silver train-topped trophy for his years of service, the miner receives a rock of salt. The engineer finds comfort in his pipe, the miner, in his accordion. And yet, to say that they are basically one and the same film with different subtitles, would be a mistake, as they each have their own rhythm, look and story line. Fraternal twins, they are alike in some ways, yet totally different in others.

Of the two, Schultze’s tale is a good bit brighter, with a happy dose of Zydeco music, and a trip across the pond to cheer us on. But while O’Horton’s journey may be somewhat darker, it is not without its fair share of humorous moments. Together, they prove that the joys, fears, foibles and challenges surrounding retirement are universal. Underscoring this notion is the fact that, as of last August, O'Horton had been seen by more Americans than Norwegians; the commonality being the milestone rather than the miles.

Are these films for the geriatric set, or can they be enjoyed by all? The answer lies in another question: Do you have to be from outer space, a vampire, animated figure or larger-than-life mortal to enjoy films about them? Surely not. A good movie is a good movie. It's as simple as that.

Here’s to a bright and shining New Year, filled with spectacular moments both on and off the silver screen.

Till the next time...

Kinky Boots: It's a shoe in

2009-10-21T19:11:00.000-05:00

As I write this I'm listening to the Kinky Boots CD sampler. It’s a great soundtrack that includes an updated version of “Whatever Lola Wants”. The song, which has been recorded by everyone from Sarah Vaughan to Bob and Ray, comes from the 1955 Broadway show Damn Yankees, but is perfectly suited to this 2005 film, both for its tone, and title.

The basic theme of the movie is a familiar one: someone’s plans are put on hold by the death of a parent, as in Frank Capra's 1946 classic, It’s a Wonderful Life, where George Bailey is forced to put his dreams aside in order to take over the family business.

In Kinky Boots, that business is Price & Sons, Ltd., a well-respected but antiquated Northampton company known for its well-made but out-of-step men’s oxfords. When owner Harold Price dies unexpectedly, his adult son Charlie’s hopes and dreams appear to be buried along with his dad. For while Mr. Price senior’s heart was stitched into every sole, Charlie’s beats elsewhere, as does that of his pretty young fiancée, Nicola.

As in the Capra tale, the timing couldn't be worse, with the newly-betrothed couple having just arrived at their brand new, London apartment. "The best thing of all is the view" gushes Nicola, as she raises the shade of their bedroom window. "It's not Northampton!" But moments later the phone rings with word of Harold Price's passing, and all too soon the view changes to one of Charlie and Nicola riding in a limousine on their way to the cemetery, looking bleakly out the window as they pass the aging factory, the words "Save our soles" painted in a graffiti-like sprawl across a faded panel of the building.

Accepting his fate, Charlie returns to the factory the following morning, without a clue as to how to run the business. But as he soon learns, there is no business― literally. With no orders to fill, and a stock pile of shoes that no one will buy, it's clear that the factory is, and has been running on empty for some time.

Unwilling to sell, but with few other options, Charlie begins the painful process of letting people go. When a young about-to-be-sacked employee (Sarah-Jane Potts) suggests that he save the company by finding and filling an as-yet unfilled niche in the world of shoes, Price takes her advice, traveling to London in search of an idea.

Shortly after his arrival, he comes upon and thwarts a would-be mugging, an incident that introduces him to a feisty drag queen named Lola. Lola, whose given name is Simon, runs a cabaret similar to one you may have seen in LaCage aux Folles. The encounter sparks an idea, one Charlie believes might re-boot the business and turn the ailing factory around.

What follows is fairly predictable: not quite the Mickey Rooney/Judy Garland-esque "We'll build a barn and have a show" scenario, but predictable none-the-less. And yet, it more than holds your attention, as time runs short, emotions run high and people dig in.

Chiwetel Ejiofor as Lola, is a stand-out, delivering a first rate performance that, in less skilled hands, could have negatively impacted the entire tone of the piece. While he looked familiar, I couldn't quite place him until I read his filmography, which included 2002's Dirty Pretty Things (directed by Stephen Frears) where he starred as Okwe, a Nigerian doctor-turned-cab driver and concierge, and 2003's Love Actually – where he took on a smaller role as Peter, the newly-wedded husband of Keira Knightley.

But it is in Kinky Boots, that Ejiofor truly shines. Inspired by, and loosely-based on an episode of the BBC documentary series Trouble at the Top, director Julian Jarrold's fictionalized version is a good bit more colorful, laced with perfectly-chosen music and a hopeful ending.

And speaking of hope―I hope the title of this film won't cause you to pass it by, assuming that it's filled with salacious sex and x-rated language, as nothing could be further from the truth. For while it's certainly not Mary Poppins, it certainly is a heady mixture of drama and comedy, show-stopping musical numbers and heart-wrenching pathos, with a little romance thrown in for good measure. I think you'll get a kink out of it.

Elsa and Fred

2009-08-16T08:07:00.000-05:00

I’ve just finished watching a lovely little film called Elsa and Fred. I must say that at first, I wasn’t quite sure I was going to like this movie, as Elsa appeared to be almost a caricature of a character – wildly and unbelievably eccentric. And yet, before I knew it, like Fred, I was involved.

Briefly, Elsa and Fred is the story of Fred, a newly-widowed, pleasant-looking, extremely decent but conventional man in his late seventies, who moves into an apartment across the hall from Elsa, an eccentric eighty-two –year-old woman (China Zorrilla) with an incredible zest for life and penchant for―well, lying.

As the movie begins, we see Fred (whose real name is Alfredo) through Elsa’s eyes. She describes him as “a bit opaque...like his inner light had gone out. All his life he’s been this boring person. He’s never stepped out of line, had an indiscretion… he loves being sick.”

And so he does. Fred, as adeptly played by Manual Alexandre, is a man who is well dressed, polite, quiet, and grieving. And though his grief is real, Elsa can’t help but wonder if his marriage was as humdrum as the rest of his life, for when asked to describe his newly deceased wife, Fred’s first response is to say that she was “tidy.”

From this we gather that their marriage was, if not a love affair, then comfortable, and he misses that familiarity and its trappings. Afraid of dying, Fred takes enough pills to fill a toilet bowl. When he confides his fears to Elsa, she comes up with a different diagnosis: “You’re not scared of dying,” she pronounces. “You’re scared of living.” And so the story unravels, as Elsa sets out to “make this dinosaur live.”

Like Fernanda Montenegro in Central Station, Ms. Zorilla takes what could be a highly unlikable character, and makes us care about her. Some, no doubt, will even envy Elsa’s spirit, and ability to get to the heart of the matter, without tip-toeing around.

As the credits rolled, and I thought about what I had just seen, I found myself comparing this 2005 film to 1988’s The Accidental Tourist. Totally different in many ways, these two films share one thing in common: they both center around strong, off-beat women who, despite the cards that fate has dealt them, remain full of life, and the men they pull out of the abyss— men who, for different reasons, have been afraid to take chances, make changes, and get on with their lives.

Elsa and Fred is not a perfect film. There is an over abundance of slow-fades, the music is heavy-handed, and some of the supporting characters are a bit too sharply drawn. And yet, there are so many good things about this piece, that I am even willing to forgive the screen writers for its inevitable conclusion.

Why? Because in this film, the story isn’t nearly as important or interesting as the people who inhabit it. To Zorrilla’s credit, we (along with Fred) come to adore Elsa, despite the fact that she is deeply flawed. And the subtly of Alexandre's performance takes us from here-to-there, with great joy and promise.

The sub-plot may hit home with some baby boomers, who have watched their aging, widowed parents find romance, and had to deal with their own feelings about what that means to them. Similarly, those who are of a certain age, and have had to deal with their grown children’s feelings and concerns, will also find something to think about here.

While Elsa and Fred is billed as a comedy, I would put it more into the ‘dramady’ category. Yes, there are funny moments― well-placed zingers and bits of business, mostly executed by Elsa, but for the most part, this is a movie with far more depth to it than say, 27 Dresses, When Harry Met Sally or The Runaway Bride. If you’re looking for light and airy, this ‘ain’t’ it.

I know that there are a good many people who shy away from foreign films by because they don’t want to deal with the subtitles. If you are among them, I hope you will set aside any misgivings, and watch this small but delightful film. Those of you who are Fellini fans will especially enjoy the movie’s nod to Anita Ekberg and Marcello Mastroianni, and the famous fountain scene in La dolce vita. For all this and more, I say, bravo!

Mad About Mad Men

2009-07-20T13:35:00.000-05:00

It occurred to me the other day that in focusing almost entirely on my favorite DVDs these past few months, I've neglected the other “pics and pans” promised in the launching of this blog. In an effort to rectify the situation, I would like to introduce you to one of the best cable shows on television, as well as a couple of exceptionally delicious food finds.

One look at the title of this latest effort, and a good portion of you are apt to say, “You’re going to introduce me to Mad Men?" Okay, okay. I know. Many of you are already unabashed fans. The AMC series is, after all, about to go into its third season. But if you have not as yet indulged, or if, per chance, have yet to watch it with the accompanying commentaries, “this Bud’s for you.”

Truth be told, I love nearly everything about Mad Men, which is why I have been gearing up for the new season―slated to arrive on August 16th―by revisiting past episodes enhanced by those afore-mentioned commentaries.

While you can watch most of these episodes on AMC from time-to-time, you can only watch the commentary versions and other extras by either purchasing or renting the DVDs. For me, these special features - particularly the commentaries, take the viewing experience to a whole new level, offering reflections and information you can only garner by listening to the writers, actors and behind-the-scenes teams who created them. They are also a great way to clear up any questions you may have about a particular scene or situation.

The show revolves around Sterling Cooper, a mid-sized, second-tier 1960s Madison Avenue advertising agency. At Sterling Cooper, nearly everyone drinks, smokes and sleeps around. Those who don’t, gossip about those who do. It’s typical office fare, but with New York City as its backdrop, Mad Men is filled with intoxicating glimpses of the way it was: the New York restaurants and smoke-filled haunts, forever captured in films like Brigadoon, Designing Women and Lover Come Back, but without the Hollywood glow. For this is a darker look at this multi-layered decade. Doris Day, with her twinkling eyes and closely-guarded virginity, could never work for Sterling Cooper.

And yet, this totally fictionalized version of the way it was, is, in itself, intriguing, and filled with nostalgic nods to some of our favorite products, past times and moments. Those of you who are old enough to remember the decade, will likewise recall many of the brands, campaigns and life-changing events the show uses to take us from here to there. Watching one particular episode the other night, I was reminded of an ad campaign that took over the air waves and newspapers at the time. It featured three little words: We Try Harder.

While the show recently alluded to another ground-breaking 1960's campaign―the famous Volkswagen "Lemon/Small Wonder" ads, Avis Rent-A-Car’s We Try Harder promotion was right up there. I remember collecting a drawer-full of We Try Harder buttons, each printed in a different language. It was a brilliant campaign, and it, along with those Volkswagen ads, made me want to be a part of the madness.

The award-winning series projects you into that world, and a time when men wore suits, hats and skinny ties to work, and neatly-coiffed women were, for the most part, stuck behind their manual typewriters. Smoking, drinking and carousing were, if not encouraged, then tolerated by some, and accepted by others as part of the game.

A commuter train-ride away, shirt-waisted wives held dinner for their self-dubbed “mad men,” as their children fiddled with the new stereo set, or sat patiently with their mom in the family’s station wagon, waiting for dad to arrive on the evening train.

What is, perhaps, most surprising about this series is that it is as fresh as it is retro – a nod to the late Peter Allen’s observation that “Everything old is new again.” The themes, dreams, disappointments and traumas of this often glorified decade are the themes, dreams, disappointments and traumas of today. Then, as now, men and women worried about being replaced by their younger counterparts, both at home and at the office. Technology bulldozed its way into our lives, and world events frightened, shaped and intrigued us. Like the man said, “Everything old is new again.”

Where Mad Men could have been written and played in a camp-like fashion, creator Matt Weiner thankfully chose to take the higher road. From sets to fashions, attitudes to platitudes, child rearing to commandeering, everything―if you’ll forgive the pun— is spot-on.

And then there’s the cast. It is a credit to the make-up and wardrobe team that Jon Hamm, (Sterling Cooper’s Creative Director, Don Draper) and January Jones, as Draper's Grace Kelly-like wife, are barely recognizable away from the set. Hamm—as the mysterious Don Draper, is so good-looking, so chiseled, so cool and distant, you have to wonder if the actor is really the ham fellow cast-members remark about.

Jones is, to my mind, the weakest link in the chain, though a very pretty and adequate addition to the cast. More impressive is Elisabeth Moss, who, along with Hamm, is deservedly up for an Emmy. As the complicated secretary-turned-copywriter, Peggy Olson, Moss is totally believable as a twenty-something secretarial school graduate who appears to be one thing, and is, in fact, quite another.

Other stand-outs include Vincent Kartheiser as Peggy’s off-and-on again paramour, and John Slattery as the agency’s number two man and chief womanizer, Roger Sterling. You may remember him as Eva Longoria Parker’s late and politically-corrupt husband on Desperate Housewives.

But this is an ensemble cast, and everyone on the show is perfectly cast, from office manager Joan Hollaway (Christina Hendricks) to the ever-quirky Bertram Cooper, magnificently played by Robert Morris, who, as a decidedly younger version of himself and his character, lit up the Broadway stage (and movie) in How to Succeed In Business Without Really Trying during the very era Mad Men seeks to recreate.

In short, if you have a passion for all things "sixty" and the way that advertising (spurred on by world events and new technologies) impacted everything from race relations to office protocol, you’ll love this unique and highly-watchable series.
And there’s a lot to love, particularly on the Season One DVDs, with their accompanying commentaries, special features and featurettes. Together, they provide an inside track on the way the series was conceived, dialogue crafted, sets designed, wardrobe assembled, music chosen and cast―cast. Season Two offers similar fare, but there is an unbridled enthusiasm in Season One's commentaries (due, in part, to what was―at that point― newly found fame and recognition), that is particularly appealing.

But don't take my word for it. If you haven’t seen this beautifully-crafted piece of television, take the “A” train to Madison Avenue and travel back in time–to a time when network television ruled, and the morning paper was not yet in mourning. Invite a friend along―someone who is old enough to remember those bygone days, and open to sharing their personal memories and insights with you. Go all out; whip up a meatloaf and some mashed potatoes, grab a six-pack of bottled Coke, and enjoy the view. No time and/or interest in cooking? Not to worry. Pick up a couple of the following food finds, and get ready to rock―or should I say, twist?

FOOD FINDS

I ran across this first product quite by accident, at—of all places―Kroger, a store not generally known for its wide array of international brands. But it was at Kroger that I came upon Capilano Natural Australian Honey – the best I’ve ever tasted. I suggest you purchase a package of Wonder English Muffins and some lightly salted butter to go with it. I was a Thomas muffin fan prior to all of this, but Wonder’s version is much cheaper, and crisps up perfectly when halved and toasted, staying remarkably warm and crunchy when lightly slathered with softened butter and drizzled with Capilano. OMG.

Prefer jam to honey? Reach for some homemade peach or blueberry preserves from Pontotoc Ridge Blueberry Farm. The blueberry jam is thin – almost runny, and laced with dozens of small blueberries that spill across a buttered muffin like marbles.

The peach preserves are just as heavenly, with large pieces of fruit throughout. I found the strawberry/fig jam to be too sweet for my taste, looking and tasting more like something you would spoon on top of short cake than your English muffins or freshly-baked biscuits. But, then again, strawberry short cake may be just what you're looking for.

In any case, Pontotoc Ridge offers a wide variety of jams and butters, including honeysuckle and kudzu. I bought a small taster-size jar of the stuff just to see what it tasted like, and found it to be surprisingly bland. My advice would be to stick with the standards,which, in this case, are anything but standard fare. You’ll find them at the Downtown Farmer’s Market here in Memphis, as well as the Midtown Farmer’s Market in Oxford.

More of a dessert person? Look no further than the freezer section of the Fresh Market, and a New England-based product called GaGa. Named after the founder's grandmother, the pint-sized container claims that their product is as “Smooth as ice cream..." [and]"...Fresh like sherbet.” And it is.

So far I’ve tried GaGa's lemon, orange and raspberry flavors, all of which remind me of my childhood Creamsickle days. Of the three, I liked the orange least, and can't wait to try their chocolate and 'rainbow' varieties. Live outside of Memphis? According to GaGa's web site, these tasty treats and their Popsicle off-springs are also available at selected Whole Foods and Wegmans markets.

Incidentally, in case you were wondering―no one sends me free samples or pays me to push their products on this blog site. What you see, is what I get: foods, flicks and TV shows that are just too good to miss. May you enjoy them all.

Till the next time…

Hear My Song

2009-06-21T20:09:00.000-05:00

As anyone who loves books, magazines, movies and music can tell you, the main library’s semi-annual sale is a wondrous event. Over the years I have poured through and amassed all kinds of donated and discarded treasures that have made my life richer, and all for a few cents on the original-price dollar.

Friends of the Library get a head-start on sifting through the stacks, and there was one year when I must have carted home at least fifty old magazines to bolster my collection of pre-1960 periodicals.

This year, I waited until the second day of the sale, hoping that there would be fewer items to tempt me, as I realized long ago that if I kept buying these things at my current pace, my collections would quickly take over the house.

I arrived at the library some time around 1 p.m. Much to my surprise, dismay and delight, the tables of were still bulging with bargains. By the time I checked out, I had managed to whittle my stash down to four soft-covers, eight not-so-old magazines, a Wally Lamb audio book I’d meant to read, and a well-worn VHS library copy of the 1991 film, Hear My Song—an eight-dollar-and-change windfall.

I’d watched Hear My Song several times over the years. It's one of those so-called “small movies” that lives up to the old "good things come in small packages" adage. I had a home-taped copy somewhere, but I bought the video because I wanted to share it with a friend, who I know would love it as much as I did. As it turned out, she'd already seen and enjoyed it several times, but she said she knew someone who would appreciate it.

Before I passed it on, I decided to watch it yet again, as it had been nearly a decade since I had last seen the film. I was surprised at how many of the small but delightful moments I had forgotten. Aside from an obvious bit of lip-syncing in a couple of performance sequences, I found it to be as dellightful as ever.

Ned Beatty is the only actor you may recognize, and the only American in this marvelously-cast piece. He plays that part of an Irish tenor by the name of Josef Locke, who, it turns out, was a real person, and quite the celebrity in Europe back in the fifties and early sixties.

After looking Loche's biography up on the Internet, I was surprised to see how much Beatty looks like the tenor, something casting agents tend to ignore. Sought by the government for non-payment of taxes, the real Locke fled England back in the early sixties. It is this fact that forms the basis of this fictionized account, picking up the story some thirty years later.

The film centers around a thirty-something Irishman named Micky O’Neil. Micky is in love, though he just can’t seem to say the three little words his girlfriend longs to hear. He also has trouble telling the truth. His are small lies – white lies if you will, but he is, at heart, a good soul. Played by Adrian Dunbar, who co-wrote the script with director Peter Chelsom, he is charming, sweet, and a bit of a rascal.

Micky owns a night club in Liverpool, booking less-than-authentic (not to mention infinitely cheaper) headliners like Franc Cinatra. Nearly broke and destined to lose his club unless he comes up with some quick cash, Micky books "Mr. "X", a Josef Locke impersonator. Pre-show posters make it appear as if Loche is coming out of hiding for this once-in-a-lifetime concert, filling the club to capacity. But when the ruse is exposed, the town rebels.

Making matters worse is that unknown to Micky, his girlfriend’s mom (Shirley-Anne Field) was romantically involved with Loche shortly before he disappeared. Her anticipation at seeing him again, followed by her (and her daughter's) obvious dismay at being duped, serves as a wake-up call for the lovesick Irishman. Hoping to make it up to her and his patrons, Micky sets off for Ireland in hopes of finding Locke and bringing him back to Liverpool for a long-overdue concert and reunion.

What follows is a whimsical detour from the real story, but it is a lovely detour. To tell you anything more would take away from the enjoyment of this marvelous piece, including a not-to-be-missed ending that will have you cheering from your Barcalounger.

Locke was known for several songs, and they are all included, fitting perfectly into the plot, from the title piece (“Hear My Song, Violetta”) to “I’ll Take You Home Again Kathleen” and “Goodbye.” There are also wonderful bits of dialogue – many of which are mightily delivered by perfectly-cast supporting players like Harold Berens, who, as elderly band leader Benny Rose, responds to Micky’s amused query -“Who are you?” with a Jimmy Durante-like, “If the phone doesn’t ring – it’s me.”

Hear My Song is truly a gem of a film. Rent it. Watch it. Love it. Share it, and spread the joy.

The Captain's Paradise

2009-06-02T18:22:00.000-05:00

I don’t know why, but it always comes as a surprise to find out that something or someone I thought I had discovered, had a prior life. Example? The hauntingly beautiful "Smoke Gets in your Eyes." I heard it for the first time in 1958, when The Platters version of the song topped the charts for weeks on end. Like so many of my friends, I thought it was a new tune, when, in fact,Jerome Kern and Otto Harbach wrote it for the 1933 operatta, Roberta. Bob Hope introduced it, but it was Paul Whiteman who scored with his rendition, as did three other artists. Who knew?

Many people think Nat King Cole introduced the tune (his version of the song was a 1940's hit), while those of you who are post-Platters babies probably discovered it within the body of a movie soundtrack. It’s been on a bunch of them, including Hearts in Atlantis, Smoke, American Graffiti and Four Weddings and a Funeral. So new, it’s not.

Mad Man fans may recognize the song from the AMC series’ pilot episode, which not only borrowed the tune, but the title. All of which is to say that there are a lot of people out there who would be surprised to learn that what they believed to be a new song, is actually a seventy-six-year-old classic.

But surprises come in all shapes and sizes. As a young girl, I was surprised to learn that some of the TV stars from my childhood days had once been big time movie stars― people like Lucille Ball, Dick Powell, Loretta Young and Ralph Bellamy.

A few actors and actresses are lucky enough to have careers that span fifty, sixty, even seventy years. As a result, they may be known for one thing by one generation, and another by another. Case in point: the late Sir Alec Guinness. Twenty-somethings may be surprised to learn that Sir Alec (aka Obi-Wan Kenobi) was a major stage and screen star long before the Wars, appearing in dozens of plays and motion pictures, Bridge on the River Kwai, for which he took home a Best Actor Oscar.

Guinness was said to be the director's good luck charm, and can be seen in some of Lean's most well-received works - Dr. Zhivago, Lawrence of Arabia and A Passage to India among them. But Guinness was also in a number of smaller films, like The Lavender Hill Mob, The Ladykillers and my personal favorite, a sprightly British comedy called The Captain’s Paradise.

I was just a child when Paradise hit the big screen in 1953, but Pete, my long-time significant other, remembered it well, and would bring it up from time to time when the subject of what to give someone presented itself. Last month, faced with the task of choosing a staggering number of birthday, wedding and graduation cards and gifts, the world's worst chooser of gifts turned to her well-worn VHS copy of The Captain’s Paradise for a fresh perspective.

Sir Alec plays Captain Henry St. James, a ship’s captain who makes his living ferrying passengers back and forth from the British territory of Gibraltar to the Spanish-ruled Tangiers. Believing that no one woman could fulfill all of his – or any man’s needs, he becomes a bigamist, with a wife in every port. When in Gibraltar, he lives quietly with the domestically-inclined Maud, aptly played by Celia Johnson. You may remember her from the previously-reviewed Brief Encounter. Maud is the ideal homemaker, content, it seems, to cook and clean her way into her husband’s heart.

When in Tangiers, the captain comes home to Nita, played by Yvonne De Carlo. Nita is a hot little number, who, it appears, likes nothing more than to party her way through life, dancing, romancing and pleasing her man, without ever having to worry about dish pan hands.

Over the years, the Captain continues to live this double life, each wife unaware of the others existence. A captain’s paradise? Perhaps, but a paradise built on lies and assumptions: assumptions tested when the ever-thoughtful but careless captain unknowingly switches anniversary presents, giving Maud a bikini intended for Nita, and Nita an apron he bought for Maud.

What follows is a clever and thought-provoking conclusion that will have you questioning any pre-conceived notions about people, places, and preferences. To tell you anything more about the plot or predicament would ruin the fun. Suffice to say that life – and people, are unpredictable, because, as the good folks at Almond Joy have been known to say, “Sometimes you feel like a nut; sometimes you don’t.”

The Captain’s Paradise is a lovely way to discover or rediscover the talents of Sir Alec. Give it a shot. After watching it, you just may want to rethink this year’s Father’s Day gift.

Till the next time...

Outsourced

2009-04-28T11:55:00.000-05:00

I don’t know about you, but sometimes I’m just in the mood for a mindless, totally unpretentious, happy little movie. When I'm looking for that kind of experience,I really don't care if it has a four-star or no-star cast, big time director or unique premise. All I ask is that it leave me feeling good about life and the human condition. A two-star movie on a good (or bad) day can be extremely satisfying.

Outsourced is a perfect example. While 95% of this American-made film takes place in India, Outsourced is no Slumdog Millionaire, nor does it try to be. By that I mean that athough it doesn’t dismiss the country’s abject poverty, it doesn’t wallow in it either. Rather, it shows how so many with so little – be it possessions or personal space, are able to live together with dignity and even joy.

The plot revolves around a young American named Todd Anderson (Josh Hamilton) who is second in command at a novelty company’s Seattle call center. When his boss informs him that the center is about to close and customer service calls outsourced to India, Todd has only moments to decide whether he wants to join the ranks of the unemployed or travel to Mombai, where he will both train his replacement (a sweet-natured soul named Puros) and get the new call center up to speed. His decision drives the plot forward, taking us to an Indian airport terminal just outside the city.

The moment our reluctant hero steps off the plane he's aware that he’s not in Kansas (okay, Seattle) any more. This new (old) world bares little resemblance to the one he has left behind, and it is clear from the first that adjusting to his new surroundings is going to take some doing.

First time co-writer/director John Jeffcoat spent several months in India during his college years, and drew from his experiences there for much of the film's humor and pacing.

A pretty call center rep named Asha is the heroine of the piece. As portrayed by Ayesha Dharker, she is captivating, but not what you would call “movie-star beautiful.” What she is – is smart, and it is this quality that draws Todd to her. I found this premise, in itself, unique and dare I say hopeful?

While Jeffcoat and co-writer George Wing are out to entertain rather than preach or teach, they use humor to acknowledge both the down and up-side of living in a place where so many have so little. Unlike its Slumdog cousin, their India is warm and welcoming, a place where family, community and customs are important and preserved, despite these obstacles.

The humor here is such that nearly everyone can identify with it on some level. Even the not-so-likable characters are likable in their quirkiness, and the enthusiasm and hospitality of the people Todd comes in contact with is catching.

His relationship with Asha is, I suspect, quite plausible–even realistic, while not necessarily delivering the Hollywood ending we Americans have come to expect from our romantic comedies. Then again, Outsourced isn’t your typical romantic comedy. Yes, parts of it are romantic, but unlike the Nora Ephron Meg Ryan/Tom Hank's pairings that we have come to know and love, many of this movie's funniest and most up-lifting moments have nothing to do with their relationship.

Is Outsourced a great movie? No. Not really. But then again, aren’t there times when you would rather have a cold beer on a hot day than a warm glass of fine wine? Maybe not, but you know what I mean. Whether you’re talking gourmet vs. fast food, a great novel or chick lit, epic film or simple indie, sometimes less is can be infinitely more satisfying than more.

In this case, there is a take-home message that lingers long after the rental has been returned, and its title, forgotten. For in putting a face on the Puros and Ashas of this world, Outsourced reminds us that as dissimilar as we are, we are all searching for a way to keep some naan on the table, and our dreams in tact.

When you think of it, it really is amazing that those voices at the other end of the Internet are as calm and pleasant and helpful as they are, given the long middle-of-the-night hours, low wages and constant barrage of questions, problems and verbal abuse they must endure.

Such observations are my own. Writer/Director Jeffcoat only sets the stage and lets the viewer take it from there. No, Outsourced isn't Slumdog Millionaire, or even Norma Ray for that matter. More about satisfaction than dissatisfaction, it is a movie celebrating small kindnesses, gentle people and cultural differences.

A word of caution: do not confuse Outsourced with the similarly-themed 2008 film End of the Line. Though both revolve around a smart young Indian call center agent and an attractive American male, they are a world apart.

In The Other End of the Line, Shira Saran is the ultra-bright Indian rep (Pyria) who works at an American credit card company's Indian-based call center. In Pyria's world, reps can talk to their customers for as long and as often as they like, hooking up with them directly, and chatting about everything from movie stars to getting together for a one-on-one "meet-and-greet" in San Francisco.

Jesse Metcalfe (Desperate Housewives former gardener) is Granger Woodruff, the young American Creative Director on The Other End of the Line,' who drops everything before a job-on-the-line presentation to follow his heart.

I know, I know, this is a movie, not real life. But good romantic comedies - even fantasy-based films, are based on the sensibilities that follow them into Never Neverland. Director James Dawson's Neverland is a schizophrenic world - an unbalanced mix of pratfalls and platitudes. National Lampoon's Vacation one minute, Pretty Woman the next. Dawson even uses the latter's theme song to underscore a 'let's-fall-in-love-in-one-day montage.'

But even a bad movie can serve up a good line or two, and End of the Line is no exception. Close to the end of its one hour-and-forty-six-minute run, there is a wedding sequence, where best-man Granger raises a glass to the happy couple, regaling guests with tales of the groom's life-long penchant for going after what he wants, even if it means taking chances.

Though the words attributed to the groom counteract his on-screen presence as a four-star buffoon, they are well worth remembering. "Nothing should ever hold a man back from his future" quotes Granger, and we can almost see the light bulb of true love shining over his head. Putting down his champagne glass, he makes his way through the tables of wedding guests and heads for the airport in a Pretty Woman/Richard Geer/fire-escape-inspired conclusion.

Well, all this "talking" about India has made me hungry for some home-grown Indian food. Anybody up for some tandoori chicken and a basket-full of freshly baked naan that's second to naan? My favorite Memphis Indian Restaurant is India Palace at 1720 Poplar Avenue. They have a great lunch time buffet featuring all kinds of chicken, lamb, potato, lentil and vegetable dishes, along with a happy choice of desserts that includes a killer rice pudding. And in the summer you've gotta try their mango milkshake-like concoction (I think it's called Mango Lassi). It's just wonderful. Filling - but wonderful.

You'll find several other Indian restaurants around town as well, all of them worth trying. Why not pick a favorite, dine in or out, and top of the night with a little in-home Outsourced entertainment!

Till the next time...

Golden Door — A trip down to build a dream on

2009-04-11T14:42:00.000-05:00

Over the years countless movies have set about to portray different facets of the American immigration experience. Two of my favorites―1982’s Sophie's Choice and Barry Levinson’s 1990 dramady Avalon—focus on the European immigrants of the 1940s. Completely different in nature and tone, Sophie's Choice is the far darker of the two, a tale of lost lives and the emotional consequences of being a survivor.

Picking up Sophie’s less-than-perfect life some time after her arrival, with flashbacks of her horrific concentration camp years, it is light-years away from Avalon—a somewhat candy-coated version of life after Ellis Island.

In between these far-different bookends sits a small 2007 Italian film called Golden Door. Filmed in Argentina, and with nowhere near the star power of either of the above films, it is powerful in its simplicity. Writer/director Emanuel Crialese spent close to eight years researching this courageous film which takes us from the small Sicilian town of Petralia to a freighter bound for America at the turn of the twentieth century.

In the opening minutes of the film we meet Salvatore Mancuso (Vincenzo Amato), a thirty-something widower who wavers between the security of life as he knows it, and the possibility of a better day for himself, his two sons (one of whom is a deaf mute) and his elderly but strong-willed mother.

After asking for and ostensibly receiving a sign from above, Salvatore barters his few possessions (a couple of goats and donkey) for four third-class passages on a ship bound for America and a bit of used clothing. “These boots used to belong to Giovanni Gramigna: a scoundrel with a heart of gold.” says the trader, as he hands over his second-hand goods. Worn and tattered, they are the first of many firsts the Mancusos will experience as they make their way to the new world.

It is a world they know little about. Illiterate and naïve, they have only heard tales and seen novelty postcards of a place some say has rivers of milk, vegetables the size of wagons and trees laden with golden coins. They have no concept of the vastness of this mysterious new land, having only the confines of their peasant village as a source of comparison.

Their only tie to America is Salvatore's identical twin brother, who left Sicily for the new world some years before. Though the family has not heard from him since, and has no idea where in America he is living, Salvatore is confident that they will find him. “Of course we’ll find him,” he replies to his doubtful son. “He looks exactly like me.”

And so they begin their journey, deep in the bowels of the ship, men in one windowless, cavernous room, women in another—hundreds of people squeezed into a place so dark they can barely see the person sleeping an arm’s-length away. One can only imagine the stench. No wonder they escape to the wet but open deck at first light.

The only scenes I can think of that are even slightly reminiscent of Golden Door’s shipboard sequences are those depicted in the 1997 epic, Titanic, where pre-iceberg footage depicts poor but happy travelers singing and dancing their way across the Atlantic, oblivious to the danger that lies ahead. You will, however, find no dancing on this ship, where the seas are rough and the living conditions close to unbearable. And while this vessel does not wind up at the bottom of the ocean, some of its passengers do, unable to endure the first of what we presume were many alarmingly stormy nights at sea.

Avalon is a much easier movie to watch and enjoy, and I have done so many times. Here, shoes are plentiful, and industrious newcomers can earn a living breaking them in for more prosperous folk. Over some one hundred-and-twenty-six minutes a Jewish immigrant’s story unfolds, and the nation’s along with it. We enter the age of television, discount pricing and suburban life. Opportunities come knocking, but at a price, which, I suppose, is the story behind each of these tales, where some pay far more than others.

Perhaps the most interesting thing about Golden Door is the fact that it was written by a contemporary Italian film maker. Just about all of the films I have seen about coming to American and Ellis Island have been told from an American perspective. This piece offers a decidedly different view.

Crialese spent seven years researching the project, reading, among other things, hundreds of letters dictated by the illiterate immigrants to letter writers and sent ‘home’ to their anxious families. His view of Ellis Island is devoid of Kodak moments. It is rather a place that is anything but welcoming, where those who are deemed unfit are unceremoniously sent packing, and loveless, pre-arranged marriages between strangers of disparate ages are the order of the day.

Prior to watching this film, originally released as Nuovomondo or New World, my image of the intake process involved a brief physical examination followed by a Custom’s-like check to see that papers were ‘in order’ and that someone in the US would vouch for them. Golden Door’s depiction is quite different, offering a far more humiliating and degrading process.

Uncomfortable to watch at times, it is a stark contrast to the Statue of Liberty’s welcoming prose. “This is not a holding station” observes one new arrival, “It is a laboratory.” “I thought you were looking for illness and contagious diseases here,” says the sole British immigrant” to her inquisitor. “Unfortunately, m’am,” he replies, “it has been proven that lack of intelligence is genetically inherited and it’s contagious in a way. We are trying to prevent below average people from mixing with our civilians.” “What a modern vision” she replies dryly, and one can not help but think of a similar vision gone awry.

In the end, Golden Door leaves the future of its characters to our imagination. Who will leave? Who will stay? Who will find happiness? Who won’t? The writer offers few hints about life after Ellis Island, save for a final fantasy sequence. Such dreams aside, Golden Door is a dark and lonely tale, and as I watched the film unfold I could not help but wonder what indignities my grandparents and their siblings endured in order to walk through those tarnished doors. Hopefully, things have changed for the better.

Three movies, three different takes on the American immigration experience of times past. Forgive me for not writing more about Sophie's Choice and Merle Streep's incredible performance, or Avalon, which was so lovingly written and performed. Both movies have much to offer, and should be on everyone's 'must see' list. But unlike Golden Door, these movies enjoyed a wide release and subsequent praise here in America, while the Italian film (honored though it was outside "the States")appeared on considerably fewer screens, with far less fanfare.

The object of this blog is share such finds with those of you who enjoy watching the off-beat, small-but-significant movies that didn't have the promotion, distribution or recognition they deserved. Golden Door is, at least in my opinion, is one such film.

Now for a couple of updates—

Wouldn’t you just know it. Days after posting my last entry, GSN pulled “What’s My Line” from its line-up. They do this periodically, moving it to weekends only, then back again for another seven-days-a-week run, then off again, then on again, and so on and so on. Hopefully, this uniquely different time capsule will resurface shortly.

And on a happier note—

HBO is about to premiere Grey Gardens, a dramatized version of the 1973 documentary on April 18th at 8 p.m.. Starring Jessica Lange and Drew Barrymore as Big and Little Edie, with Jeanne Tripplehorn as Jackie-O, it should be interesting, in that the movie begins decades before the documentary.

The sets and costumes are supposed to be wonderful, and those who have seen the film say that Jessica Lange did a formidable job in her characterization of Big Edie. They were not as generous with their praise regarding Barrymore’s portrayal of her daughter, who was, by far, the more outrageous of the two women. I suggest that you watch the Albert and David May documentary before taking in the Hollywood update. That way you can make your own comparisons and get a better feel for (to borrow another movie title) the way they were.

One thing is certain - the way they were impacted the fashion industry for years to come. Want to make a bet that a whole new wave of Edie-inspired upside down skirts and sweater scarves is already in the fashion pipeline?

To read (or re-read) my blog on the 1973 documentary, scroll down to my January 2, 2009 entry, entitled "A Grey Area."

What's My Line

2009-03-19T22:14:00.000-05:00

The Game Show That Was Bigger Than a Breadbox

About two years ago, after twisting and turning my way through”the wee small hours of the morning,” I reached for my TV’s remote, clicked my way through a sea of infomercials, and landed upon “What’s My Line.”

For those of you who are too young to remember the show, I can tell you that it was, (and may still hold the record as) the longest running prime time weekly game show in TV history. Long before “Wheel of Fortune” and “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?” there was “What’s My Line.”

The original program ran for close to eighteen years, beginning in 1950 and ending in 1967. Outside of some early tweaking, the show remained pretty much the same over the years, as thousands of contestants walked across a modest set to a chalk board, signed in, sat down, and whispered their “line” into host John Charles Daley’s ear, as their generally quirky occupation (“Makes Ouija Boards”) flashed across the screen for the benefit of the studio and TV audience.

Over the next three-to-five minutes, panel members did their best to guess what the guest did for a living. Stumping the panel didn’t make you rich; it just made you happy. The most a contestant could win was fifty dollars, a figure that remained the same despite inflation, from the first broadcast to the last.

Once a night (and sometimes twice) blindfolded panel members would have to guess the name (rather than line) of a “mystery guest.” After a week’s-worth of combing the New York papers, said panel members seldom faltered, despite an attempt on the part of the celebrities to disguise their famous voices. Every now and again a duo, trio or entire team of mystery guests would tiptoe across the stage and huddle over a single mic, taking turns answering questions in in effort to further confuse the panel. The ruse seldom worked, but it was fun to watch the likes of Steve Lawrence and Eydie Gourmé, The McGuire Sisters and Rogers and Hammerstein make the effort.

The panel, for the most part, was made up of creative folk: entertainers, writers and publishers who never seemed to tire of asking the same questions show after show and year after year. Among the most popular: “Might I use your services?”, "Was the product ever alive?” and the ever-popular query coined by Steve Allen, “Is it bigger than a breadbox?”

If the questions were familiar, so were the panelists, many of whom spent the better part of the show’s run behind their one-size-fits-all desk. The wittiest of the bunch was publisher Bennett Cerf, who, at his best, was extremely clever. At his worst, he was downright punny.

Panelist Arlene Francis was another long-time panel member. A more-than-minor-but less-than-major Broadway, film and TV actress, she added a bit of warmth and glamour to the show, with trend-setting fashions punctuated by her signature diamond-studded heart pendant.

Columnist Dorothy Kilgallen was the yin to her yang. Known for being a tough reporter, her on-air persona was pleasant but not what you would call "toasty." According to Bennett Cerf’s biography, she was by far the most competitive of the group, there to win the game rather than entertain the troops. Her death, just hours after her last broadcast, was both unexpected, and mysterious.

Another panel member, comedian Fred Allen, passed away suddenly the following year. His seat was filled by Ernie Kovacs, who moved on in a matter of weeks. After that, any thoughts of a permanent replacement were set aside, although some stars like Steve Allen, guested more than others.

In total, there were some eight hundred and seventy-six episodes, providing us with close to two decades-worth of on-going American pop culture. Show by show, hair styles, stars, politicians, references, ‘lines’ and trends moved us onward. Viewed in retrospect, it is a veritable fashion parade, as hoop skirts replace sheaths, the sack gets sacked for the harem dress and teased hair rises above the more perfect dos’s of the fifties. Only the men remain true to their Brylcreem and bow ties.

The show itself is a study in obsolescence, with its corny intros, cardboard sets and outdated occupations. And yet these are the very things that make it so appealing. It is a time capsule filled with diaper service executives, corset models, human cannonballs, gas station attendants, telephone booth makers and no-smear lipstick demonstrators; a place where people who made mustard plasters, bottled cod liver oil, played half of a vaudeville horse or sold false teeth for cows could rub elbows and chalk dust with the likes of Bette Davis.

Throughout its close-to-eighteen-year run “What’s My Line” attracted more “A-list” celebrities than any other show of its time, providing us with a video scrapbook of the movers and shakers of that period. Had you been watching it over the past few weeks you would have seen Esther Williams, June Allison, Claudette Colbert, Hedda Hopper, Gary Cooper, Phil Silvers, Joanne Woodward and Paul Newman.

Tune into “What’s My Line” over the next few weeks and you just may see Maureen O’Hara, George Jessel, Jack Paar, Nelson Eddy, Peter Lorre, Charles Laughton, Peggy Lee, Kathryn and Arthur Murray, Shelley Winters and a very young Jane Fonda.

Please don’t misunderstand. I certainly don’t recommend a steady diet of sleep deprivation. I just thought you'd like to know that, should you have one of those sleepless nights, “What’s My Line” is a wonderful way to lull yourself back to z-land.

If, per chance, you have the ability to record TV programs for later viewing, so much the better. You can, as they say, "have your cake and eat it too." And if like me, you find yourself wanting to know more about the show and its cast, you’ll be happy to know that the library has a book on the subject, written by the show’s executive producer, Gilbert Fates. It’s called What's My Line? : The inside history of TV’s most famous panel show, and it’s a doozy.

I also enjoyed At Random: The Reminiscences of Bennett Cerf, which I picked up for a song on eBay. Mystery fans will find a wealth of information on the Internet on the thriller-like circumstances surrounding Dorothy Kilgallen’s untimely death.

Well, nighty night, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite! And be sure and keep that remote handy, just in case. You'll find “What’s My Line?” on The Game Show Network. GSN: your vocation station.

Till the next time...

MY FAVORITE FOOD MOVIES

2009-02-24T05:25:00.000-06:00

Dim Sum and then some

A year or so ago I had the opportunity to ask three of the city’s top chefs what their favorite food movie was. I was reasonably sure that the three would agree. I was also sure I knew what their collective answer would be, and I was right on both counts. Care to venture a guess?

The answer was a small movie called Big Night. Professional and amateur foodies love this bittersweet story of two Italian brothers who open a small but authentically Italian restaurant across the street from an extremely successful meatballs and spaghetti eatery. Produced in 1996, the movie takes place in 1954 – long before the word "pasta" became a part of the average American’s vocabulary, or the Food Network taught us about the joys of pancetta, Pecorino Romano, or olive oil for that matter.

I think the thing that so many professional chefs identify with in this movie is how all too often the cream does not rise to the top. That despite the proliferation of food shows and exotic ingredients found in your average supermarket, most people don’t know or appreciate the difference between amazing and sub-standard fare. I suppose it’s true in other industries as well – certainly in the world of music, where a fine musician often finds his or her work set aside in favor of the ‘artist’ with little or no training, ‘chops’ or originality.

Just as in 1987’s Babette’s Feast (another of my favorite food flicks), the movie centers around one glorious meal. So great was the interest in one particular on-screen dish known as timpani, that Stanley Tucci, who, co-wrote, co-starred and co-directed the film, co-wrote a cookbook featuring it and other family recipes. The multi-layered concoction is filled with what amounts to an Italian feast, containing a wide assortment of ingredients. Various versions of the recipe include a wide-ranging mixture of meatballs, pasta, chicken, mozzarella, provolone, egg, salami, béchamel sauce and/or some sort of ragu. It is the ultimate pot pie. If at some point you feel both adventuresome and flush you might want to give it a try. You’ll find a recipe complete with "how-to" photographs at www.angelasfoodlove.com/2008/06/pauls-big-night.html.

Big Night quickly moves from the opening of the restaurant to the brother’s struggle to keep it open and true-to-its roots. When the owner of the wildly successful but highly inferior American-Italian restaurant across the street offers to send band leader Louis Prima their way after a New York engagement, the brothers accept his offer in good faith, sinking the last of their money into a meal so grand that Prima would be overwhelmed, their restaurant, recognized, and their dreams fulfilled. At least that's the idea.

Both Tucci and Tony Shalhoub are wonderful as the two brothers, as is a supporting cast that includes Minnie Driver (once again playing an American), Isabella Rosselini and Allison Janney.

Babette's Feast

Next on my food movie ‘hit’ list, is the afore-mentioned Babette’s Feast. So popular was this movie at the time, that several restaurants opened around the country based on the movies' dishes. Like Big Night, the story is a simple one, though Babette's Feast has a surprise ending that adds a special richness to the tale.

It takes place in a remote, austere and highly religious Norwegian coastal town, where two elderly sisters are asked to take in a French woman named Babette. They know little about their new housekeeper, grateful that she has taken the burden off of their limited culinary skills, providing simple but tasty meals with the little food and funds they have available to them.

When Babette wins a bit of money in a French lottery, the plot unfolds in a most unusual and savory way, and changing the way the sisters and their neighbors view life and those around them.

While Babette's Feast is more of a drama than a comedy, the all-important dinner scene is a joy to behold. Don’t let a fear of subtitles keep you from so much pleasure. Remember, you can press “PAUSE” any time you want to catch up on the dialogue.

And now for some food-related movies that aren’t so much about food, as they are about the people who prepare, eat and enjoy it.

Dim Sum

This 1985 slice-of-life movie takes place in San Francisco’s China Town, where two generations of Chinese Americans co-exist, trying to adjust to the others way of life. There’s not much of a plot here, and yet the actors are so good at what I would call "non-acting," you forget that these are fictional characters.

There is much to smile about in this sweet drama. I loved every part of it, especially the scenes set around the dinner and mahjong tables. Chances are you’ll recognize your own family in some of the interactions.

301/302

301/302 refers to the apartment numbers of two facing condos in a South Korean high rise. One is occupied by a recently divorced female chef, while the other is home to a troubled young writer. Both are obsessed with food, but in totally different ways. When the troubled young journalist disappears, the plot heats up. You won’t find any fairy-tale ending in this 1995 flick, but if you like off-beat movies and have a taste for Korean cooking, this thought-provoking film just may be your cup of tea.

My Dinner with Andre

Nearly all of this 1981 movie takes place in a restaurant, and yet I feel a bit guilty including it in a list of food movies, as it is more about what they say than what they eat. Be forewarned that chances are you will either love it or hate it. All I can tell you is that after seeing it for the first time, I found myself referencing bits and pieces of dialogue for weeks―perhaps even months.

Written and starring Andre Gregory and Wallace Shawn, and directed by Louise Malle, the movie allows the viewer to be the proverbial fly on the wall, as Shawn (an actor and playwright) and Gregory (a director of experimental theater) talk over dinner.

Shawn has instituted this meeting in order to check on his friend, who, some say has 'gone off on the deep end.'

And so the meal begins. They eat. They talk. We listen. A waiter brings one course and removes another and another as Andre tells these far out tales that remind Wally of something, which reminds Andre of something, which causes one or the other to comment, and go on to something else. Aside from a scene or two of Wally going and coming from the restaurant, the entire film takes place at the dinner table.

As I 'said' earlier, you will either find their observations fascinating or ridiculous. Insightful or absurd. I would suggest that you watch it with a small group of friends and then discuss it―where else, but over dinner.

Kitchen Stories

I can’t remember exactly how I discovered this odd little 2003 Scandinavian film, but I am so glad I did. Based on an actual study, this fictional drama is set in a remote section of Norway in the 1950s. At its core it is a tale of friendship, despite all odds.

In an effort to learn how to build a more efficient kitchen, researchers from the Swedish Home Research Institute are sent out to homes all across Sweden to observe people in their kitchens. Our story centers on one such researcher and his subject—an older bachelor/farmer living in a remote part of the country. In order to insure that the researcher doesn’t influence the subject’s behavior, the two are prohibited from talking or interacting with each other. And so the researcher sits in a ‘high’ chair (literally), day after day, watching the farmer move from counter to counter, chair to table, stove to pantry and so on. What happens, and how, makes what may sound like a dull subject, pretty darn interesting.

SIDE DISH - A look at a couple of egg-strodinary moments in film

No discussion on food on film would be complete without a word or two about two scenes involving the incredible, editable you-know-what.

One takes place at the very end of the previously-mentioned Big Night. The brothers have cooked for everyone else, the night is over, and they are alone together in their kitchen. Exhausted, Tucci's character silently removes a frying pan from it's place on the shelf, and scrambles some eggs for the two of them. Not a word is spoken, and yet you know exactly what they are feeling, and saying. And the eggs look so darn good! I have to wonder how many people grabbed the olive oil instead of the butter, and made eggs for dinner that night.

The second egg-strodinary scene comes from 1987's Moonstruck: a movie mentioned in my last entry. While the film is about a baker, there are no beauty shots of crusty loaves of bread, although there is a scene late in the movie, where Cher as Italian/American Loretta Castorini, makes herself a little breakfast, taking a slice of fresh Italian bread, tearing a piece out of the center, and cracking an egg inside it. The fried concoction looks delicious, and I admit to making my own version, albeit poorly, soon after watching the film.

Wikipedia lists about twenty different names for the dish, from Toad in the hole, window or basket, to One-eyed Jacks and Gold diggers. Choose a favorite, watch the movie, and enjoy.

Other favorites

Other food movies on my all-time favorite list include such tasty tales as Chocolat, Eat, Drink Man Woman, Goodfellas and Mostly Martha (which was, to my mind, a better movie than it’s Americanized follow-up, No Reservations). You may have your own list including smart, witty and/or thoughtful titles like Water for Chocolate to Tom Jones, Tortilla Soup and Tampopo to Who is Killing the Great Chefs of Europe.

Defending Your Life

A final note. If you've never seen Defending Your Life, put it on your 'must see' list. Albert Brooks wrote, directed and starred in this 1991 movie about the after-life, and in the next month or two I plan to devote more time to it and other films dealing with that theme. But for now, let me say that in it, Brook's character dies and goes to a place called "Judgement City" where you can eat as much as you want without worrying about your blood pressure, cholesterol levels, weight or love handles. And everything you eat is the best you ever tasted. What a concept!

Till the next time...

2nd floor, ladies better dresses...

2009-02-11T20:10:00.000-06:00

THE DAY THE MUZAK DIED

It was a passing story on the NBC nightly news. Muzak – The 75-year-old company whose name, like Kleenex, became part of our vocabulary, was declaring bankruptcy. The company known for taking pop hits and turning them into bland instrumentals was millions of dollars in debt, despite the fact that they had long ago shelved the mundane in favorite of the original artist's recordings.

I was never a fan of Muzak - not that I paid a whole lot of attention to it - but then, that was the general idea, wasn't it? It was, after all, background music that wasn't supposed to get in the way of our conversations and/or private thoughts.

Like other things that are no more – both good and bad – I will mourn its death – timely or otherwise. Given the music of today, much of it lacking in melody, folding their tent – or keyboard, was, no doubt, a sound decision.

I’LL TAKE ROMANCE

Seeing as Valentine's Day is on its way, I thought I'd take a look at some of my favorite romantic films. Comedies and dramas, I love them all. And why not? A tear here, a smile there, and you're hooked. Years ago many of these romantic tales were labeled “Women’s movies” – doing them a great disservice.

I have tried to stay away from the films that generally wind up on everyone's “Ten Best” list, but you'll find at least a couple of familiar titles. Some are quirky, others tear-jerky, and still others are what you might call toe-tappy or even sappy. But when it comes to love, sappy is good, at least in my book.

We begin with one of my more obvious choices. Politics aside, the script is clever, the acting is great, and you know you're going to get your happy ending. Who could ask for anything more?

The American President
Michael Douglas, Annette Bening, Martin Sheen, Michael J Fox
In this 1995 romantic comedy, widower Douglas is also President of the United States. When he meets a lady lobbyist, they find themselves falling in love, but, as might be expected, complications―political and otherwise, arise. Fun to watch.

Bells Are Ringing
Judy Holliday, Dean Martin
This 1960 musical comedy is, by its very subject, dated. It takes place in the 1950s, long before voicemail and even answering machines can into being. Judy Holiday is a somewhat ditzy telephone operator who falls in love with a client over the phone. He’s a Broadway lyricist, facing a deadline. When the words won’t come, Judy rushes to his aid.

Produced first as a Broadway Show, with Holliday in the lead. With music by Julie Style, and book and lyrics by Comden and Green, you can’t go wrong with tunes like “Just In Time,” “The Party’s Over” and a very 50’s, extremely clever song called “Drop That Name.” It’s also great to see character actors like Fred Clark and “All In the Family’s Jean Stapelton doing their shtick. Holliday’s terrific in what would be her last film role.

Captain’s Paradise
Alec Guinness, Yvonne De Carlo, Celia Johnson.
I was introduced to this film by my love-time companion, Pete Pedersen, who was intrigued by the underlying premise of the story. It explores the idea that we tend to categorize people. He’s funny. She’s serious. He doesn’t like surprises. She couldn’t possibly be interested in whatever.

The movie takes this premise and looks into what happens when by chance – or design, such perceptions are challenged. Placed within the framework of a story about a ferry boat captain who literally has a wife in every port, it’s a movie that doesn’t take itself too seriously. I’d tell you more, but while spoil the fun?

Continental Divide
John Belushi, Blair Brown
Belushi is a Mike Royko-type newspaper columnist who has to ‘disappear’ for awhile to take the heat off of a hot story. The paper does its part by sending him to the Rocky Mountains, where he is told to do a story on the elusive and press-resistant Blair Brown - a woman who studies eagles – way up in the mountains. Romance follows.

Written by Lawrence Kasdan (The Big Chill, French Kiss, Raiders of the Lost Ark) this off-beat comedy’s charm is, at least in part, due to the casting of John Belushi in the romantic lead. Given the set up, it would be hard to imagine Ms. Brown resisting someone like say - Robert Redford’s advances. Belushi, on the other hand, might have his work cut out for him. I’ve seen it several times through the years, and it continues to entertain.

The Enchanted Cottage
Robert Young, Dorothy McGuire.
I love the idea of this little movie, which is all about beauty being in the eyes of the beholder. It’s the story of two lonely people who find each other, love, joy and self-esteem in a modest little cottage tucked far away from the beauty-conscious eyes of the world. Telling you anything more would deprive you of the joy of watching their story unfold.

Hear My Song
Ned Beatty, Adrian Dunbar, Shirley Anne Field
This 1991 comedy is one of those so-called “small movies” with lots of charm, and little star power. It takes place in Europe, where a young Brit tries to square himself with his girlfriend by finding her mothers’ long lost love (a British tenor who disappeared years before. Utterly charming, it is both well written and crafted. Great fun.

Happenstance
Audrey Tautou
Amélie's Tautou plays a sales clerk in this 1991 romantic comedy, who exchanges glances with a young restaurateur on the Metro. It’s love at first sight, but fate keeps the two from meeting. You’ve Got Mail borrowed a bit of the idea, in that Hanks and Ryan kept crossing paths in their NYC neighborhood. Here, the two would-be lovers go through their day just missing each other, until fate intervenes. Add a bunch of seemingly unrelated strangers to the mix, and you’re in for a real treat. I loved it!

A Little Romance
Laurence Olivier, Diane Lane, Thelonious Bernard
Let me say that I am probably one of the few people in this world who does not believe that Lawrence Olivier was one of the greatest actors of all time. I just don’t. That said, if you’re up for a little romance, you’ve got it in this 1979 Olivier vehicle.

Sir Laurence plays an elderly pickpocket who helps a teenage couple get to Venice to realize their romantic dream of kissing while in a gondola under the Bridge of Sighs. Lane plays a 13-year-old, American girl living in Paris while her step-father directs a movie there, while Bernard plays a poor 13-year-old French boy who loves American films. It was one of Lane’s first movies, and both she and Bernard are charmers. Olivier is acceptable, despite his less-than-wonderful French accent.

Return to Me
Minnie Driver, David Duchovny, Carroll O’Connor, Bonnie Hunt, Jim Belushi, David Allen Greer, Holly Wortell
This charming little movie takes place in Chicago, where writer/producer/director Bonnie Hunt got her start. In this very personal effort she has cast both family and friends, many of whom are well known and respected in the motion picture industry.

While most of these choices were choice, some left me wondering. Why, for example, did she cast an American as an Irishman, and an English woman as an American, when there were lots of great American and Irish actors available? Not that there's anything wrong with it, it's just puzzling. And it seems to be a trend, especially on TV, where Australians in particular are often cast as Americans. Whatever the reason, that's the way it goes. And, in this case, it goes well.

Ms. Driver plays a twenty-something waitress who needs a new heart. You have to suspend disbelief in this movie, as both the circumstances surrounding the most-certain transplant, her remarkable recovery, and the situations that follow would certainly never happen in real life. And Carroll O’Connor as her Irish grandfather is not exactly perfect casting, but he gave the film some extra star power, and did an admirable job to boot.

My favorite scene features Holly Wortell, as recent-widower, Duchoveny's date from Hell, although Jim Belushi as Hunt's loveable husband, is a close second. Duchovny, as Driver’s love interest, is very appealing, and I like the fact that both he and Ms. Driver look believable in their roles.

This is definitely a chick flick, with lots of nostalgia and older characters mixed in for the over fifty set.

Same Time Next Year
Ellen Burstyn, Alan Alda
This romantic comedy spans some thirty years, taking us from the 1950s to through the 1980s. Burstyn and Alda meet in the 1951 at a California Inn. She’s a young mother on retreat, he’s a New Jersey accountant who comes to California each year at the same time to prepare the tax returns of a client who moved to California along the way. The unlikely duo meet over dinner, and quickly find that they have little other than a physical attraction in common. And yet, something draws them to each other.

Over the next 25 years the two lovers, who are (more often than not) happily married, but not to each other, rekindle their romance at the same time, in the same place. We watch them grow as individuals and as a couple, with actual national events and attitudes affecting their lives. This feels like a Neil Simon comedy, though it was written by Bernard Slade. Burstyn and Alda well cast in their roles. Enjoyable.

The Thorn Birds
Rachel Ward, Richard Chamberlain. Barbara Stanwyck, Jean Simmons, Bryan Brown
This multi-part saga, ‘torn from the pages’ of Colleen McCullough's best selling novel, is beautifully filmed, handsomely scored and rich in texture. Stanwyck is marvelous. And while I have read that there were a lot of problems on the set with Ward’s acting, it isn’t evident on the screen. The love story of a young Aussie’s love for a priest, and a rich widow’s revenge, are compelling. It takes awhile to see it all, but what the heck. Watch it a little at a time. But watch it.

The Truth About Cats and Dogs
Janeane Garfiglio, Uma Therman, Ben Chaplin
This is another one of those movies where the casting is a bit off, but the movie works in spite of it. I say that because I’m not sure why they cast Uma Therman in the roll of a woman so breathtakingly beautiful, that men crash into cars and literally trip over themselves at first glance. Not that she’s a dog (you’ll excuse the expression) she’s not. She has what I would call ‘interesting’ looks. Exotic? Maybe. I don’t know.

This is, you realize, a case of the pot calling the kettle black. I am no beauty. But with so many really amazing looking movie stars and starlets out there, one has to wonder why they chose her as the unbelievably beautiful but less-than-intelligent fashion model who forms an alliance with her short, bright, witty but―not by Hollywood standards-pretty veterinarian/talk show host neighbor (stand-up comedian Janeane Garfiglio).

When true love literally calls, Garfiglio asks Therman to be her stand-in, as the hostess with the most-ess. Ben Chaplin (no relation to Charlie) is the British photographer who wins her heart. Not exactly Cyrrano de Bergerac, but reminiscent of it, the movie is both pleasant and predictable.

Garfiglio, is a hair too pretty for the role of the less-than-good looking vet, and Chaplin’s character is a bit too oblivious to the obvious clues that surround him. None-the-less, this quirky movie from 1996 is a happy way to spend, if not the day than a little more than an hour-and-a-half, even though you know how it’s going to turn out from the moment Chaplin’s handsome face flashes across the screen. Catch Jamie Foxx in a supporting role as the photographer’s friend/assistant.

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg
Catherine Deneuve, Nino Castelnouvo
Don’t let the fact that this is both a foreign film and has no spoken dialogue keep you from renting this gem of a movie. If you call 1964 ‘modern,’ then it is a modern-day operetta, filled with wonderful Michel Legrand tunes like “I Will Wait for You” and “Watch What Happens.” It’s Fanny-like plot revolves around a young woman who finds herself pregnant after her lover leaves to fight in the Algerian War. What happens next keeps the plot moving, and the tears flowing.

The Wedding Date
Debra Messing, Dermot Mulroney
I have no good reason why I like this little romantic comedy. It is cheaply made and looks it, she’s not that engaging, the plot is far-fetched, but never the less, I like it.

He’s a good-looking, cocky ‘escort’ – she is an airline customer service agent who hires him (in NYC) to act as her date for her sister’s wedding so that her ex-finance- who will be there, won’t see her date-less. Did I mention that the wedding takes place in England? It does. Romance blooms. The fact that he’s a high-priced “escort” seems to matter not a wit.

Like I said, there’s no good reason why I should like this movie – but I do. Amy Adams is cast as Messing’s spoiled half-sister in this 2004 comedy. A year later she was cast in Junebug – which basically changed her life and star status.

The Bridges of Madison County
This last movie is far from obscure. Chances are you’ve seen it more than once. But I adored every minute of this bitter-sweet love story, it, like The Way We Were, is about as romantic as they come, bitter-sweet stories that break our collective hearts and warm our souls.

It is, at its very core, a study in timing. Where most tales bring a couple together when the timing is right, this one explores the choices one must make when the timing is wrong. While her family is away at a county fair, a middle-aged farmer’s wife meets and falls in love with an aging photographer. Beautifully played by Meryl Streep and Clint Eastwood, this quiet motion picture is one of the few over-fifty love stories that doesn’t take place in a nursing home. What’s more, it is the only movie I can think of where the stars don’t out-shine the characters. Worth watching over and over again.

Dark Victory
Bette Davis, George Brent
This one is a tear-jerker. Bette Davis is a fun-loving socialite (a 1930’s version of Paris Hilton) with not a care in the world until the words “Prognosis Negative” come barreling at her. George Brent is the doctor who helps her find true love in the middle of it all. Humphrey Bogart is terribly miscast as an Irish stable man and Ronald Reagan plays a boozed-up party boy. The movie works despite these inane casting choices. I first saw it as a teenager on one of those afternoon "Dialing for Dollars"- type shows. I guess I've seen it five or six times over the years. And while it hasn't aged as well as some of the other movies of its time, it still brings a tear to my eye.

Have a very happy, very romantic, warm and cozy Valentine's Day, and if you have a few moments somewhere along the way, remember someone who may not otherwise receive a Valentine's Day card or call. You'll be amazed at how good it feels to make someone's day.

Till the next time...

Down by the Station

2009-01-27T21:26:00.000-06:00

Hello again!

Last weekend I treated myself to a lovely little film that took its name from Rio de Janiero's Central Station. It got me to thinking about other movies that used a train station as a device to take us into the hearts and minds of vastly different people, in vastly different places. Rather than dwell on movies you’ve most likely seen, I’m going for the more obscure, but exceedingly enjoyable movies, one of which dates back to the 1940s. So hang in there; you’re just a recipe away from those movie picks. But first, as my grandmother used to say, we eat.

A Real Handful

This insanely delicious mix is the perfect snack for Super Bowl Sunday, Oscar night or any night you're in the mood for something special

This recipe comes courtesy of my friend Margene, and it is incredibly good. While it boasts an admittedly pricey combination of ingredients, I will tell you that to my mind, similar packaged mixes and home-made recipes pale in comparison. In these belt-tightening times,if you can afford to splurge and buy all of the ingredients listed below without taking out a second mortgage or maxing out your credit card, don’t cut corners, but do go lightly on the salt, as you can always add more, but, at these prices, you don’t want to overdo it.

Margene’s Super Snack
You and your guests will go nuts over it.

Ingredients:
10–to-12 cups of various Chex cereals*
A can of premium mixed nuts (without peanuts - low sodium if possible)
1 1/2 cups pecans
1 can roasted almonds
2 cups very thin pretzel sticks
1 stick (8 tablespoons) of unsalted butter
1 tablespoon McCormick’s Seasoned salt
2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
½ tablespoon soy sauce
2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
A sprinkling of garlic salt and paprika

In a saucepan mix the unsalted butter, seasoned salt, Worcestershire sauce, Soy sauce, lemon juice, garlic salt and paprika together. Spread the cereal/nut mixture out over a big roasting pan. Heat the butter mixture slightly and pour it over the mix.

Gently turn the mixture over with a spatula so that everything is well coated, then bake at 250 degrees for one hour, turning the mixture over as before, every 15 minutes. Cool before eating. Enjoy.

* Rice Chex and Wheat Chex work well, but you can also add some Corn Chex if you're feeling particularly flush. Both Margene and I have also substituted Kellogg's Crispix for the Chex cereals, and they work well as well, although the taste is a bit different - a little sweeter, as I recall. Margene says that some people might want to add a little more butter. "It's all a matter of taste, " she says, adding, "It's hard to ruin it unles you turn your oven too high."

Getting Back on Track

Okay, let's take a look at those railroad station movies I mentioned earlier. There are a lot of train movies out there, along with other flicks that have unforgettable train station scenes within them – [Love in the Afternoon comes to mind], but the following three movies are, I think, quite special. They are also what you would call ‘small movies,’ with little or no star power― something that actually works in their favor, allowing you to forget that you’re watching actors at work.

The movie that started me thinking about all of this was Central Station, a 1998 Brazilian film that begins in Rio’s massive and overflowing train terminal. Written by a first-time twenty-something screen writer, it is so richly layered, it’s hard to believe that someone so young could write something so deeply insightful.

The story line is a simple one. Dora, an embittered and totally unethical retired school teacher, scratches out a living writing letters for Rio’s illiterate. Day after day she sits in Central Station, as the poorest of the poor pay her to write and mail their correspondence. She takes their money, carries their letters home and rereads them, taking on the role of judge and jury as she decides which ones will be thrown away, tossed in a drawer, or posted - something, we soon realize, hardly - if ever - happens.

One day, a woman and her nine-year-old son, Josué, appear at the space Dora has carved out for herself in the terminal. The woman wishes to write a letter to the boy’s father, whom he has never met. The man, we are to understand, is, at his very core, a no good, drunken bum, and yet the mother pines for him, just as her son yearns to know his absent father.

Moments after dictating her letter, the mother is killed in a freak accident just outside the train station. It is here that the story begins to unfold, as the letter writer gradually and often unwillingly takes on the task of helping the boy locate and hopefully settle down with his father, who is was last known to have lived hundreds of miles away.

And so we leave Rio and Central Station behind, with the remainder of the film taking place on the road as this unlikely duo travels through to the other Brazil, far beyond the sun-tanned bodies, soft white beaches, bossa nova stylings and travel poster snapshots we are familiar with. This Brazil is punctuated by an endless string of dusty towns and roadside pit stops, linked together by a long and narrow highway.

While there are supporting players in this drama (all of whom are well cast), this is basically a two-person piece, with the principal actors in just about – if not every― scene. Fernanda Montenegro is wonderful as Dora, a woman who lies without thinking, and thinks nothing of tossing other people’s dreams away. Nominated for and winner of several awards in conjunction with this role, she is not always likable, but always believable.

That said, I believe that as good as she is, the film would not work without Vincius de Olivera – the ten year old boy who plays Josué. Prior to filming he had never appeared before a camera, which is unbelievable given the depth of his performance. Many of the crew members were also first-timers as were more than half of the cast. It is a credit to the script, director, and passion of everyone involved that it works as well as it does. And it does work well.

The second film on my list of ‘must-see’ train station movies is also the most well known of the group. Those who love movies and the theater will recognize at least four of the people involved here, including playwrite Noel Coward, whose play (Still Life) provided the basis of the movie's script.

Brief Encounter was directed by David Lean, who went on to direct such memorable films as Dr. Zhivago and Lawrence of Arabia. In this - one of his earliest films, he has two actors who, at the time, were quite popular, although the female lead (Celia Johnson)would drop out of sight after a brief - but well received career in movies like The Captain's Paradise with Alec Guinniss, and The Prime of Miss Jean Brody. Trevor Howard (The Third Man, Mutiny on the Bounty, Superman, Gandhi) is cast as the male lead in this ill-fated romance.

The story begins as the two are brought together by fate on the platform of a London train station. When she - a housewife who truly loves her family, gets a cinder in her eye, he - a married physician who likewise loves his family - comes to her aid. The attraction is immediate, as the two go on to risk everything in order to be together for a few hours each week.

Watching them fall in love, we are (as they are) sadly aware of the underlying futality of it all, and yet pulling for them just the same. This 1946 black and white film is an 'old school' romance, where less is more. For while you won’t find any X-rated scenes or overtly sensuous close-ups, the emotion, longing, desperation and pain are all there on the screen.

The last train station film I'd like to introduce you to is 1993’s The Station Agent. It’s the tale of a young dwarf (“little person”) named Finabar (Peter Dinklage)with an affinity for trains, who inherits a small parcel of land in rural New Jersey that includes a small and dilapodated train depot. Leaving his old life behind, he moves into the abandoned property, looking forward to a solitary life, far from the stares of curious on-lookers. And yet, almost from the first, that solitude is interrupted by a small but diverse group of people who work and live in the surrounding area.

The movie is an interesting mix of humor and drama, taking us into a world we might never otherwise know. Patricia Clarkson (Pieces of April, The Dead Pool, Six Feet Under, Vicky Cristina Barcelona) was―at least for me― the only familiar face in this strange and oddly satisfying wisp of a movie, but you might recognize several of the other cast members, as several of them have had recurring roles on some of TVs most popular series.

Ultimately, The Station Agent is a story about being different, but it is also about the joys and strains of solitude and friendship. And while it may appear to have nothing other than a train station in common with the other two movies, I would beg to differ.

All three films introduce us to characters who appear to have nothing in common with each other, and yet the more we know about them, the more we realize that they have quite a lot in common.

In the same way, we, as viewers, may outwardly seem to have nothing in common with the letter writer, ten-year-old Brazilian boy, ill-fated lovers or pint-sized loner, and yet, I would bet that just about everyone who sees these movies will relate to many of the characters' feelings and life experiences.

And there is still another common thread, as we come to realize that often, when we find ourselves in an unexpected situation, paired with people whom we would have never otherwise met (let alone befriended), we often find our world broadened, beliefs challenged and hearts rewarded.

I hope that you will treat yourself to one or all of the above films, while munching on some of Margene’s marvelous mix.

Till the next time...

A series of series, flicks & food finds

2009-01-12T20:06:00.000-06:00

Let me begin by sending out kudos to Gabriel Byrne for his Golden Globe/Best Actor in a Mini Series award. His show (In Treatment) is exceptionally well written, and he does a wonderful job in the role of Dr. Paul Weston, a phychotherapist with an interesting assortment of patients.

Truly a mini-series (the first season was a brief seven weeks from start to finish,) it was so habit forming that I would devour the entire week’s half-hour episodes in one gulp.

The show is built around the old 'fly-on-the-wall' concept, as the viewer gets to sit in with Dr. Weston as he talks with his various patients. Season two is headed for the small screen later this year, so now’s the time to play catch-up, although the only returning characters are the good doctor, his therapist (Dianne Wiest - a Woody Allen favorite) and presumably Paul's wife, Kate (Michelle Forbes.) Produced by AMC, the first season is now available on DVD.

The series is uniquely scheduled for nighttime TV - even by cable standards. Each weeknight, a different patient comes calling, returning each week on the same day of the week for another appointment. During the first season Monday was Laura's day, Tuesday brought Alex, Wednesday, Sophie, and so on. Or was it Sophie who came on Tuesdays? I can't remember now, but you get idea. Seven weeks, seven visits from five different patients (or groups of patients.)

Blair Underwood, Melissa George, Mia Waskikowska (an amazing young actress) and others, took on the roles of these complicated and not always likeable characters who were trying to deal with everything from parental love or the lack of it, to post tramatic stress, adultery, and erotic transference. Some sought help others raged against it, while Paul struggled with his own problems.

The show was originally produced in Israel with a totally different cast, and Americanized for the HBO version, which is interesting in that several of the HBO actors― including Byrne―were born and raised in other countries.

In the past few years, several wonderful TV series have come our way from both here and abroad. There was HBO’s Six Feet Under – the story of the Fisher family and their Los Angeles-based Funeral home. The last few minutes of the final episode were amazing, but would mean nothing unless you were familiar with the characters. That said, the last year of the show got a bit dark for my taste, but the first few years were wonderful, and as I said, it went out in grand style.

Many of the actors in this award-winning series went on to star or appear in other, decidedly more main-stream movies and TV series, including Peter Krause (Dirty Sexy Money), Michael C. Hall (Dexter), Frances Conroy (Maid in Manhattan, The Aviator, Broken Flowers), Rachel Griffiths (Brothers and Sisters), Ed Begley Jr. (Living With Ed), Richard Jenkins (There’s Something About Mary, Rumor Has It, Burn After Reading. The Visitor), Jeremy Sisto (Waitress, Law and Order), Freddie Ridriguez (Ugly Betty) and others, including Rainn Wilson (The Office, Law and Order: Special Victims Unit, CSI, NUMB3RS, and, in a blink-or-you’ll-him miss performance, Juno.)

Another great American TV series - Dead Like Me – (are we seeing a theme here?) was funny and odd and just a pleasure to watch. I came across it long after its initial Showtime run. It, like Six Feet Under, is available for rent at NetFlix.

The series centers around an eighteen-year-old girl named George who was killed by a flying toilet seat and brought back to life (sort of) as a grim reaper. The young reaper doesn't look like her old self to the rest of the world, but she feels like herself, despite the fact that she can’t go home again (sort of). If I’m not making much sense, it’s because this quirky little comedy is anything but grim. The cast features veteran actors Mandy Patinkin and Jasmine Guy along with lesser known faces like Ellen Muth as George. I think you’ll get a kick out of it.

If you prefer more realistic fare you’ll want to rent a wonderful British series called William and Mary. It’s the contemporary tale of two everyday, thirty-something Brits who meet via a dating service, and slowly but surely fall in love. This is not a mushy, glossy, Hollywoody series, neither in the way it is filmed or cast. Martin Clunes, who plays William, is no Brad Pitt. He is as average looking as they come, and yet, as in real life, the more you know William, the better he looks. Similarly, Julie Graham, who plays Mary, has a bit of a gap between her front teeth, but she is far from a Lauren Hutton-type.

It is because of this, rather than in spite of it that we are drawn into their lives and the lives of their children, in-laws and co-workers. They looked like an average couple. No size zero’s here. No sex symbols. Just decent people – both of whom are single parents, dealing with the day-to-day challenges that come their way. Did I mention that she is at one end of the life cycle, being a midwife, and that he is at the other?

I definitely see a theme here. But please don't let the fact that William is a funeral director stop you from seeing this really incredible series. William is - at heart - a musician, forced to be a funeral director by circumstances beyond his control. I adored this series, which led me to rent another British series (this one, a comedy) featuring Mr. Clunes in a totally different role as one of several chaps off on a day-trip in the ultimate (sort of but not-really) "buddy" movie, Cheers and Tears.

If you like off-beat, grown-up comedies you’ll truly enjoy this trio of adventures, delivering far more cheers than tears, and lots of chuckles. Mr. Clunes is only in the first of the three episodes, but all are full of good fun and characters you’ll grow fond of in spite of themselves. If, by the time you have seen William and Mary and Cheers and Tears you are not totally won over by Martin Clunes, rent Doc Martin. William and Doc are about as different as - I don’t know – Soupy Sales and Sir Laurence Olivier, and yet both characters have something in them that makes them worth watching and remembering.

AND NOW, A LITTLE FOOD FOR THOUGHT, and some great products that are too good to keep to myself.

My first offering is so common, you’re going to probably dismiss it as being just that- common. And yet, over the past year or so I have introduced at least a dozen people to this uncommon common product, and nearly all of them have gone on to buy it over and over again – stocking up when it goes on sale, which it does, fairly often. It’s by Dole – of canned fruit fame, but Dole Sliced Peaches do not come in cans.

They come instead in plastic, see-through jars that sit on the supermarket shelf beside the usual fare of canned goods. DO NOT look for these jars in the refrigerated section. If you do, there's a good chance you’ll mistakenly buy another similarly packaged product that is vastly inferior. Look instead for Dole's thick, luscious slices of yellow peaches in the canned fruit aisle, where they sit with their not-nearly-as-delicious comrades, Mandarin orange slices, pineapple chunks and mixed fruit. When chilled, these peaches are divine, and unlike their canned counter-parts, they are not immersed in a heavy, overly-sweet syrup, or even worse, bland thin juice just a step or two above tap water.

The wonderful thing about these peaches is that you can eat one slice right out of the jar as a snack, and then screw the lid back on and put it back in the frig for another time, or you can eat the whole thing in one sitting. I’ve done both. What’s more, the price is nice… less than $3.00, and as little as $2.20 on sale. You may even find them for less.

My second food find is a soda/pop/soft drink - (whatever you call it in your part of the country.) This one is by Jones, and it comes in a glass bottle. I say this because Jones also has a line of soft drinks that come in cans. I think Target or Walmart sells them. While they're okay (I've tried the Cream Soda and Root Beer), they're nowhere near as tasty as the bottled Crushed Melon drink I'm talking about.

Tasting remarkably like fresh honeydew, Jones Crushed Melon soda is devoid of the usual sweet, tart or bitter aftertaste found in most melon-flavored products. I think this has to do (at least in part )with the fact that Jones uses pure cane sugar rather than syrup as a sweetener.

Admittedly pricey – about $4.99 for four bottles - Jones Crushed Melon soda is caffeine-free and very delicious, although it may take a few sips to fall in love. I say that because the taste is definitely different.

Where can you buy Jones Crushed Melon soda? The only place I know of here in town that sells it is Miss Cordelia’s. The little Harbortown grocery/cafe sells it both by the bottle or 4-pack. They even keep a few bottles chilled and waiting in the refrigerated section of the store. Jones has this thing going on where you can send them a favorite photograph, and if they like it, they'll put it on the bottle! You can get all the details on their web site.

Well, that's about it. Hope you check out all or at least some of the above flicks, and pics soon. Incidentally, I receive no money or free stuff for mentioning these products or where to get them. I just do it because I like to let people know when something comes along that's truly special.

A final note:

Several folks have written or contacted me via telephone or in person to say that they wanted to comment on something I said, but were'nt sure that they wanted to sign up with Google (which is free) in order to have their comments appear on the web site. If you don't want to go through that process, but would like to share a thought or two, email me directly at picsandpans2@aol.com and I'll pass your comments and/or suggestions on in the next installment. Sound good? Hope so.

Till the next time...

A Grey Area

2009-01-02T14:13:00.000-06:00

A Happy New Year to you! Here's hoping 2009 will bring peace, health, happiness and (hopefully) prosperity to us all.

I have just finished watching and re-watching an off-beat but highly-engrossing documentary called Grey Gardens. Originally released in 1975, the title references a once grand estate that, like its owners, had fallen upon hard times.

The movie itself is far from grand, being devoid of special effects, voice-overs and sophisticated lighting, editing and camera work. But it is exactly that raw quality that makes it so incredibly real.

The camera (which, at times can be seen along with the cameraman in one mirror or another) is, for the most part, that fly on the wall we hear so much about. It captures the day-to-day lives of two rather eccentric women: Edith Ewing Bouvier Beale ("Big Edie") and her fifty-six-year-old daughter, “Little Edie.” They, despite the title of the film, are the real stars of this film, with their home playing a decidedly supporting – albeit important role.

Had it not been for the fact that the Beales were closely related to Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis, I doubt that their story would be little more than a footnote to a local squabble between the ladies and the tony village of East Hampton, New York. But they were related to Jackie-O, which catapulted them into the spotlight.

Over close to forty years their story has been told and retold in articles and books, an off-Broadway show, two or three documentaries and a soon-to-be-released motion picture starring Jessica Lange and Drew Barrymore. Despite all of this hubbub I had never heard of the Beale’s until I came upon Grey Gardens while sifting through Netflix's Documentary catalogue.

So what’s it all about, Alfie? It’s about promises kept and dreams quashed, it's about the ties that bind – both good and bad. It’s about having a sense (or no sense) of style. It's about dependence and independence. It’s about living in the past and yearning for the future. It's about love and caring and being caged and comforted by circumstance. But more than anything else, Grey Gardens is about the relationship between a mother and her daughter. Set within the framework of cluttered bedrooms, an antiquated kitchen, wooden deck, overgrown garden and sandy beach, it is a tale worth telling, revealed through conversations between the ladies and the people who weave in and out of their lives.

The movie opens with a series of newspaper clippings describing the trials and traumas these women faced just prior to the start of filming. It seems that "the powers that be" had done everything in their power to evict them and tear down their home, which was deemed to be both an eye-sore and health-hazard. It would take some $23,000 (eventually donated by Jackie and Ari) to bring the home's heating and plumbing systems up to code, along with over one thousand garbage bags full of this and that to save it from the wrecking ball.

Set among a shoreline of palatial retreats, Grey Gardens is, even in its renovated state, in dire need of repair, with raccoons darting here and there through a hole in the kitchen wall that gets steadily larger as the film progresses. This is the insular world of Big and not-so-little “Little Edie.”

We learn a lot about these women as the film progresses, both through what they say, and the way that they say it. There is an affectation in their speech that tells us that they once led a privileged life, where boarding schools,coming-out parties, fine jewelry, antiques and great estates were the norm. During those years,(when Big Edie was still married, and Little Edie was young enough to draw admiring glances from equally affluent admirers) the Beales summered at Grey Gardens and lived as one would expect a family of their lineage and social standing to live.

There are hints as to why Big Edie's husband divorced her, where the money went, and why Little Edie (one of three children) would choose to forgo her own independence in order to take care of her mother, but only hints. And that is, in good part, what draws us into their story.

More than almost any film commentary, the commentary that is included on this particular DVD adds a great deal of insight and revelation. After watching it and hearing what the director and editors had to say about the women, their friends, the reaction of the film when it was released and what they personally took away from the experience, I felt compelled to watch the film again. I can’t remember the last time that happened.

During that commentary and the interviews that accompany it, much is said about the way Big and Little Edie phrased things - quotes people lovingly took away from the film and incorporated into their own vocabulary, where they remain to this day. Phrases like -

“I know exactly where it is. I just can’t find it.”

“I’ve been pulverized by the extent of the latest turn of events.”

“You don’t see me as I see myself.”

And – “You’ve had enough fun all your life.”

I'm sure you'll find one or two such phrases to call your own as well.

It is obvious that filmmakers were very fond of these ladies, though watching the documentary, you may, at times, wonder why, or what they saw that was so exceptional. That’s one of the reasons why watching the commentary after you've seen the piece is so important. It gives you an insight that you – or at least I – couldn’t get just from watching the film.

In the end, I was left with many questions about why the Beales did the things they did, and what had become of them... particularly Little Edie, who so yearned to have a life of her own. I found some of the answers within the commentary, and others on the Internet. Still others, - silly things like why Little Edie always covered her head with scarves, towels and sweaters (often held together by an over-sized broach) remain a mystery.

A final note - If you're a Food Network fan, you'll want to look for what is now Ina Garten's home. It can be found early on, as the camera pans the pricey waterfront properties that made up the Beale's neighborhood.

Grey Gardens is a great way to begin a new year of films. I hope you'll rent it, enjoy it, and share your thoughts with all of us bloggers.

Till the next time...

It's About Time

2008-12-29T10:39:00.001-06:00

Hi there,

Hope your holidays were happy. I know, I know, they're not quite over yet, which is exactly why I thought I'd take a moment to offer up a few "timely"suggestions on movies you might enjoy watching as we head into the New Year.

All of the following movies center around 'time' in some fashion or another. Why time? Because New Year's Eve is all about time - from watching the hands of the clock move towards the midnight hour to watching some really good movies about time!

While some of these films will never make anyone's Top Ten list, each has something unique to offer. Chances are you’ve seen some - if not most of them, but I would bet there are at least one or two you’ve missed.

So here we go – Movies about time.

When Harry Met Sally – ends on New Year's Eve, which certainly makes it a candidate for New Year’s Eve watching. But it is also relevant in that it follows two people through a dozen or more years of their lives. If you love Billy Crystal, Meg Ryan and/or Nora Ephron’s witty dialogue this movie is for you. The plot is basically this: Harry and Sally meet fresh out of college. She finds him annoying. He’s oblivious. Years later they meet again. They become friends. Then best friends, which works really well, until they have to deal with the question of whether or not they might ruin a good thing by taking their friendship to the next level. The plot is predictable, but who cares?

And here’s another time-related movie. Groundhog Day (1993)is a fanciful tale of a TV weatherman with a major cause of deja. Bill Murray stars as disagreeable sort of fella who re-lives the same day (Groundhog day) over and over again until he gets it right. Andi McDowell is Murray’s love interest. She, and the rest of the cast are perfectly cast – especially a character actor by the name of Stephen Tobolowsky who makes the part of nerdy insurance salesman Ned Ryerson his own. Directed by Harold Ramis, this one is a must-see. (P.S. Look for Murray’s brother as a local Puxatony official.)

Back to the Future (1985) – You’ve no doubt seen this one, but it may be time for a second look. Michael J. Fox takes us back to the 50's - and it's a great ride. Avoid the sequels.

1985 was a great year for time travel movies. Not only did we get Back to the Future, but a gem of a movie called Peggy Sue Got Married. Forget the fact that Nicholas Cage looks like Kathleen Turner’s son rather than her husband, the plot is warm and witty and nostalgic, and it’s just fun to watch. Look for Jim Carey in one of his earliest roles.

84 Charing Cross Road (1987) stars Anne Bancroft and Anthony Hopkins as, respectively, a woman who loves to read, and a man who runs a book shop. The movie takes the viewer from the 1950s through the 1980s, and how these two people , separated by time and space (she in NYC, he in London) grow to admire and care about each other solely through their letters. This small movie is wonderfully cast and beautifully filmed. The set decorations are perfect, and the story is true. I interviewed author Helene Hanff shortly before she passed away. This was her story, lovingly told in her best-selling book by the same name. While the movie romanticised the relationship between Hanff and book-seller Frank Doel, Ms. Hanff said theirs was more of a friendship, based upon a love of books. I adore this little movie and hope you will as well. But be forwarned: after watching it there's a good chance you’ll want to head to your favorite antiquarian book store and buy something old, worn and bound in leather. I know I did.

Soylent Green (1973) is an entirely different type of movie – certainly not what you’d call a ‘fun’ flick, but certainly thought-provoking. Unfortunately, the Technicolor palate has not aged well, but if you can get past that, I think you’ll find the future seen from 1973 eyes, to be an intoxicating/distressing mix of predictions. I was never a Charlton Heston fan, but the movie succeeds despite him. Edward G. Robinson is marvelous, particularly in a key scene where the two men dine on - - - well, I’m not going to spoil it for you. But it’s well worth watching.

Random Harvest (1942) is one of my all-time favorite movies. Greer Garson is glorious, and Ronald Coleman does a wonderful job of taking on the look and feel of an amnesiac (a casualty of WW1) who looses years of his life, gains a new one, and then … well, here’s another case of my not wanting to spoil it for you. I adore this film. It’s as romantic as they come.

If you’ve seen all of the above, and yearn for something new and a bit different, you’ll want to rent Run Lola Run (1998). This German film combines animation with ‘regular’ film, and is a story built around a critical twenty-minute time frame. Because it is so (I hate this phrase, so forgive me) “cutting edge” in its execution, you may hate this movie. On the other hand….

Brigadoon is certainly a safer choice. This 1954 musicial stars Gene Kelly and Van Johnson as two New Yorkers who go on a hunting trip to Scotland, only to discover a town that appears once every one-hundred years. It could have been called “The Big Sleep” – but I suppose that name was already taken. All kidding aside, Lerner and Lowe’s score, Gene and Cyd Charisse’s dancing, and the fanciful plot make this one of the classic musicals of its time.

Now here’s one you may not have seen – although there’s a good chance you read Peter Mayle’s best selling memoir. It’s called A Year in Provence. This was never in ‘theatrical release’ but rather a four-part 1993 series on PBS. It stars John Thaw, Lindsay Duncan, Jean-Pierre Delage – names which are probably unfamiliar to you. But please, don’t let that stop you from watching this wonderful piece. It’s the tale of an advertising executive and his accountant wife who leave the rat race behind and move to the south of France where they set up housekeeping on an old, drafty cottage wreaking with charm and possibilities. The story revolves around them, their guests, the workmen who work on their home and the townspeople. But the region itself plays a major part in the story. You’ll want to book the next flight to Provence after watching it. It’s funny and charming and thoughtful and just plain wonderful. Each season has its own tape – or DVD. Be sure and watch them in the right sequence.

And finally, two time-related love stories: Same Time Next Year (1978) and Somewhere in Time (1980).

Same Time Next Year is the tale of two people who meet over dinner at a California Inn, and fall in love. Over the next thirty years or so they meet once a year, for a romantic weekend, that draws them together, despite the fact that they are each married to someone else. This romantic comedy stars Alan Alda and Burstyn, but time is an ever-present co-star, as we see how
Not only their characters change over the years, but how we as a nation are effected by the changing times.

Somewhere in Time is an imperfect movie, but is still well worth watching. For starters there’s that haunting musical theme, and then there’s Christopher Reeve – looking strong and healthy and the ever-lovely Jane Seymour. This time-travel movie is about a playwright who falls in love with a seventy-year-old photograph of an actress. So strong is his attraction to this photograph that he actually wills himself back in time, and winds up at Mackinac Island’s Grand Hotel where the now ‘young’ actress is performing. You have to throw away any thoughts about what is possible and just go with the flow.

And with that I want to thank you for reading my blog. May 2009 bring all of us peace, joy and good health. Take care, and let me hear from you.

Till the next time….

My Favorite Holiday CDs & tunes

2008-12-22T11:32:00.000-06:00

Hi There!

It’s Hannukah, Chanukkah, Hanukkah, Chanukah. No matter how you spell it, if you’re celebrating this Festival of Lights, I wish you a happy holiday!

Today I thought I'd tackle the subject of holiday music, offering up some last-minute suggestions on Christmas albums you might want to give or get, while waxing nostalgic on Christmas music I have known and loved.

While I must admit to having a certain soft spot for the Hannukah kiddie ditties of my youth ("The Dreydl Song" being one of them,"Hannuhah, Hannukah" being the other), they don't appear on the albums I've flagged as holiday favorites. The truth is, few (if any) major artists included them in their holiday offerings. And so it is with deep regret that I move on to other, more widely available sounds of the season. I'm talking Christmas season.

As you will soon see, the bulk of these albums are, admittedly, sung or played by people who are no longer with us - iconic vocalists like Rosemary Clooney, Peggy Lee and Frank Sinatra. Unfortunately, several of my favorite albums never made it to CD, and are only available on eBay and/or other used 'record' outlets. Most, however, can still be yours for the asking.

I'm also including a list of favorite Christmas singles. I'm talking about all of those old hokey Christmas hits like "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause," "Up on the Roof Top," "Santa Claus is Coming to Town," "Frosty the Snowman," "All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth" and "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer." Corny? Yes. But it seems to me that at times like this, we need a little corn.

“Corn” aside, I'm also including a list of those wonderfully romantic and nostalgic tunes that came out of the 40's and 50's. I’m talking about the songs they used to sing on the variety shows that once dotted the networks. Songs like "I'll Be Home for Christmas," "Let it Snow," "Silver Bells," "It's Beginning to Look a lot Like Christmas,” "Baby It's Cold Outside," and "The Christmas Song" still sound as warm and fuzzy as they ever did..perhaps even more so. And while I generally don't like the far-off sound of albums recorded by orchestras and groups if that era, I will say that "Sleigh Ride", as recorded by either the Boston Pops or Ray Conniff Singers is always a welcome treat.

So is just about anything Perry Como ever recorded, including "There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays" - a song that unfortunately doesn't get much play anymore.

One or two New Year’s tunes came out of that same period that are worth noting. Among them: "What Are You Doing New Years?" and "Moments to Remember." They used to play the latter song on the radio at the end of every year.

And speaking of the end of the year…

When I was a young girl – my dad and I went to Richmond, Virginia one year to visit his best friend. I remember going to the movies while we were there. Before the feature began, the management threw some lyrics up on the screen with a bouncing ball over them to guide the audience in a sing-along. A music track — complete with vocalist— played, and everyone sang along. I have no idea why I still remember some of the lyrics when I can hardly recall what I had for breakfast this morning (Toast? Coffee?), but I do. They were written to the tune of “You You You” – an Ames Brother’s song that quickly faded into oblivion. In any case, the verse went something like this:

“You, you, you
Spend my money through and through
Income tax will soon be due
Leaving none for you, you, you!”

While you may be unfamiliar with the Ames Brothers and “You, You, You,” and are too young to have lived through the era of the bouncing ball, you may recall such hit holiday singles as "Jingle Bell Rock" and "The Chipmunk Song," or a much more recent tune that I believe is destined to become a holiday classic. I'm 'talking'about "All I Want For Christmas Is You." My favorite version is not by Mariah Carey (who co-wrote it) or Miley Cyrus, but rather by a young girl named Olivia Olson, who sang it in the movie “Love Actually.” Both the tune and the 2003 holiday flick are worthy of your attention.

And now, as promised, my list of favorite Christmas albums. You’ll notice that there are a fair amount of albums featuring a variety of different artists. Such offerings can often be a mixed bag, as a few not-so-great artists or arrangements can creep into the mix. But for the most part, the multi-artist albums I've included here are a wonderful way to enjoy some of the best music of the season, without having to purchase all of the individual albums. I know that many of you buy your music song-by-song on the Internet, but for those of us who are still purchasing albums we can pick up and pop in our CD players, they are a little bit of heaven.

Have wonderful holiday, and let me know if you have a Christmas or Hannukah) favorite to add to this list!

Till the next time…

THE SINATRA CHRISTMAS ALBUM - (FRANK SINATRA)
SOME OF THE TUNES: THE CHRISTMAS SONG - MISTLETOE AND HOLLY - I'LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS - THE CHRISTMAS WALTZ - HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS

CHRISTMAS CAROUSEL –(PEGGY LEE)
SOME OF THE TUNES: I LIKE A SLEIGHRIDE (JINGLE BELLS), CHRISTMAS SONG, CHRISTMAS WALTZ, WHITE CHRISTMAS

HERE COMES SANTA CLAUS - (THE ANDREW SISTERS)
SOME OF THE TUNES: WINTER WONDERLAND SANTA CLAU IS COMING TO TOWN

WHITE CHRISTMAS - (BING CROSBY)
SOME OF THE TUNES: WHITE CHRISTMAS, I’LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS, SILVER BELLS, IT’S BEGINNING TO LOOK A LOT LIKE CHRISTMAS, CHRISTMAS IN KILLARNEY, SILENT NIGHT

IT’S CHRISTMAS TIME - (BING CROSBY FRANK SINATRA NAT KING COLE)
SOME OF THE TUNES: SILENT NIGHT, JINGLE BELLS, WHITE CHRISTMAS,
THE CHRISTMAS SONG, O' LIITLE TOWN OF BETHLEHEM

CHRISTMAS WITH BING CROSBY, NAT KING COLE & DEAN MARTIN - ( BING CROSBY, NAT KING COLE, DEAN MARTIN)
SOME OF THE TUNES: LET IT SNOW, ’O HOLY NIGHT, JOY TO THE WORLD

ELLA WISHES YOU A MERRY CHRISTMAS - (ELLA FITZGERALD)
SOME OF THE TUNES: JINGLE BELLS, THE CHRISTMAS SONG, HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS

CROON AND SWOON – A CLASSIC CHRISTMAS - (MULTIPLE ARTISTS INCLUDING: LEROY ANDERSON, JOHNNY MATHIS, ANDY WILLIAMS & PERRY COMO)
SOME OF THE TUNES: THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS, SANTA CLAUS IS COMING TO TOWN, THE TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS, THE CHRISTMAS WALTZ, NEED A LITTLE CHRISTMAS

WHATEVER MAKES YOU HAPPY (MULTIPLE ARTISTS INCLUDING: PEGGY LEE, LENA HORN, DEAN MARTIN, NAT KING COLE & MELISSA MANCHESTER
SOME OF THE TUNES: HAPPY HOLIDAYS, I WISH YOU A MERRY CHRISTMAS, CHRISTMAS TIME IS HERE

WHITE CHRISTMAS – ROSEMARY CLOONEY
SOME OF THE TUNES: I’LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS’IT’S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR, LET IT SNOW, RUDOLPH THE RED NOSED REINDEER

JINGLE BELL JAZZ – (MULTIPLE ARTISTS INCLUDING THE DEXTER GORDON QUARTET, THE WYNTON MARSALIS QUINTET, DUKE ELLINGTON, LIONEL HAMPON & MILES DAVIS)
SOME OF THE TUNES: HAVE YOURSELF, GOD REST YE MERRY GENTLEMEN, WHITE CHRISTMAS

CHRISTMAS FAVORITES – (MULTIPLE ARTISTS INCLUDING BING CROSBY, ROSEMARY CLOONEY, THE PLATTERS, MAHALIA JACKSON, PAT BOONE & THE LETTERMAN)
SOME OF THE TUNES: WHAT CHILD IS THIS, DECK THE HALLS, UP ON A HOUSTOP, AULD LANG SYNE, O CHRISTMAS TREE

JINGLE BELL JAM- JAZZ CHRISTMAS CLASSICS – (MULTIPLE ARTISTS INCLUDING CHET BAKER QUARTET, CARMEN MCRAE, DUKE ELLINGTON, LOUIS JORDAN, ELLA FITZGERALD & THE MODERN JAZZ QUARTET)
SOME OF THE TUNES: SLEIGH RIDE, THE CHRISTMAS SONG, WHAT ARE YOU DOING NEW YEARS?

A CLASSIC CARTOON CHRISTMAS – (MULTIPLE ARTISTS INCLUDING BURL IVES, JIMMY DURANTE, VINCE GUARALDI TRIO, FRED ASTAIRE & MICKEY ROONEY)
SOME OF THE TUNES: RUDOLPH THE RED-NOSED REINDEER, FROSTY THE SNOWMAN, CHRISTMAS TIME IS HERE, SANTA CLAUS IS COMING TO TOWN, A HOLLY JOLLY CHRISTMAS, WE NEED A LITTLE CHRISTMAS

ENJOY!

More of My Favorite Holiday Movies & Music

2008-12-19T17:57:00.000-06:00

Well, here we are again! You may recall that we left off with my recommending that you watch the 1945 version of "Christmas In Connecticut." It's my all-time Christmas favorite. But I have to tell you, I also like Holiday Inn. Bing Crosby singing "White Christmas" at the piano (He did it again in Technicolor in the movie by the same name), a great-looking set, and Fred Astaire dancing his way through a year's-worth of holiday tunes solo and/or with one partner or another. The premise is outrageous, and it's a bit worn around the edges, but the song and dance numbers make it all worth while.

I mentioned 1954's White Christmas in passing. Rosemary Clooney and Vera- Ellen (who must have had a size 2 waist) and Bing Crosby - paired this time around with Danny Kaye. While the movie itself isn't great, the Irving Berlin tunes for the most part are, including, of course, "White Christmas," and a happy little ditty called "Sisters." That said, Rosemary Clooney's commentary - (actually, I think it's a featurette) that comes with the DVD is worth the price of the rental.

This next movie isn't a movie you think of right off when you think of Christmas flicks. But it takes place during the Christmas holidays, and it's just wonderful.

It's called "While You Were Sleeping," and it's one of the movies-if not the movie that made Sandra Bullock a star. It co-stars Bill Pullman (of Accidental Tourist), and a great ensemble cast featuring folks like Peter Gallager, Peter Boyle, Jack Warden and Glynis Johns. This funny, romantic, sweet - all the things you want in a holiday movie. Beautifully written, this 1995 flick still stands up. I've seen it many times, and enjoyed it each and every time.

Love Actually is another great holiday movie. When I first saw it (on the big screen) in 2003, I thought it had a few too many love relationships to follow. By the time they covered them all, I'd forgotten who was who and what was what. But when I saw it again on the small screen, I adored it. It's one of those movies you (I) can watch again and again. Part of the reason - I think - is that it does have so much stuff packed into its 135 minutes. And part of the reason is that it's really well written. Then there's the cast - which is - perfectly cast.

The "stars" of this movie (and there are many) are all great: Hugh Grant, Emma Thompson, Liam Neeson, Laura Linney, Alan Richman, Colin Firth, Bill Nighy, - they all act their socks off. This movie made me want to see what else Mr. Nighy had done (he is one of the most versatile actors on the planet). I also checked out a few Colin Firth movies I hadn't seen. I was already a fan of the others.

The supporting actors are all wonderful as well, particularly Rowan Atkinson - who is generally a bit too off the wall for my taste, but just does an amazing job here. Billy Bob Thornton is appropriately seedy, Keira Knightly looks beautiful, Laura Linney is heartbreaking, and everyone - young, old, fat, thin, - are all just a joy to watch. If you enjoy light, romantic comedies with a bit of drama thrown in for good measure, Love Actually is your kind of movie. What's more, you'll find several of today's more recognizable faces (who were then unknowns) hidden amongst the cast - including Mad Men's January Jones.

Finally, a note about a movie appropriately called, "The Holiday." While I am not a Jack Black fan, I am fond of this bright and shiny 2007 Christmas package. It's the tale of two women, one in L.A., the other just outside of London, who swap houses over the holidays. It's loaded with charm. Jude Law, Cameron Diaz, Kate Winslet are all wonderful, and the children are adorable without being gooey.

So there are a few oldies-but-goodies and a couple of semi-goodies. Unfortunately, there are no Hanukkah movies - let alone good Hanukkah movies to recommend here. But then again, you never know. Someone reading this blog may just know of an obscure Hanukkah movie that's out there- even a good one. About the only recent Hanukkah anything I can think of featured Adam Sandler singing the Hanukkah song.

Which brings us to music - holiday music, during this, "the most wonderful time of the year!" Hope you'll check in as I check it all out, next time, here at picsandpans!

Pics (Movies & TV shows) and Pans (Food) - The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

2008-12-18T13:49:00.000-06:00

Hi there, and welcome to my blog!

If you like movies, TV, dining out, eating in, or just reading about them, you're in the right spot. I may also add a word or two about a favorite book, article, CD, song, product, service, ad, "spot" or anything else that strikes my fancy.
If something doesn't live up to my expectations, I may jabber on about that as well. Hopefully, somewhere along the way, something I've said or told you about will make your day go a little better. Anyway, that's the plan.

So let's start out with movies - Holiday movies in particular. I'm going to try and stay away from the obvious favorites, as (1) they're generally not mine, and (2) you're here to get some new ideas, which, in this case, are actually old ideas - or movies, that you may have somehow missed.

Today's movie is called "Christmas In Connecticut." I'm talking about the origional 1945 classic with Barbara Stanwyck. I love this movie. It's funny, warm and simply pefect. No hard-to-follow plot. No over-the-top anything.
The only thing anyone might rally against it is that there is a brief scene early-on where a fur coat is involved. If you can get past that, you'll be fine.

In short, Stanwyck is amazing. The supporting cast is perfectly cast. The sets are absolutely teriffic and the black and white cinematography is first rate.

If you're a fan of old movies, you know who Sidney Greenstreet and S.Z. Sakall are - if only by their famous faces. And Dennis Morgan is highly watchable as Stanwyck's love interest.

So what's it all about, Alfie? Well, there's this columist, see. Her name is Elizabeth Lane, and she works out of her modest apartment, writing a home-and-hearth-type column in a ladies magazine published by Mr. Greenstreet. Her columns are filled with mouth-watering recipes and tales of her happy family- including her new baby. Trouble is, Liz doesn't know how to cook worth a lick. And she's single to boot. That's right- no husband. No baby. No cozy farm house- no nothing. She gets her recipes from her Uncle Felix, who owns a restaurant just around the corner. And while you would think that her publisher would be aware of such things - he isn't. Until, one day, when...

Well, to tell you more would spoil it all. Let's just say that fun and romance are on the menu. Love it. Love it. Love it.

Til the next time...