Jane Austen and Joan Crawford

We're getting rid of DVR.  Well, all the cable- to save money and to no longer be slave to the TV.  I swear if it's there I'll watch it.  So, we purchased a DVD recorder and I started stockpiling things to watch when we have no TV reception.  We're going antenna, sweetheart!

I have recorded hundreds of classic movies now.  I've gotten a bit obsessed.  It started out with just favorites, but then I got the completist urge and had to get every movie by some particular star or director available.  I've definitely become fondest of movies from the 30's and 40's. Getting into the 50's the actors start to look a little rough.  Is it because they are getting older, or because the color just seems so garish after watching the beautiful moody tones of Black and White.  I think it's the Black and White.  It's as if it's a major character in the movies.  Watching documentaries about Bette Davis and Joan Crawford and seeing them in living color is so jarring.  They both had freckly faces that I never saw in Black and White.  Also their hair changed colors, and they were both often sort of redheaded, which I totally didn't expect.  

Yes, I've  become obsessed.  I'm even starting to get the topical jokes in the old movies, the ones that refer to the popular culture or other movies.  The ones that only people living in that era might get.  It's a bit sad on my part.  On the flipside I also became obsessed with the whole Jane Austen marathon on PBS.  Of course I taped all of those too- introduction by the icy Gillian Anderson and all.  I swear that woman is made of some stiff material, she's so severe and it always seems as if she's about to kill you with a quick look or cry stoically, one single tear trailing down her perfect cheek. And her red, red hair is so vivid and smooth, I think she can use it as a weapon. Now, she looks good in color.

So my days and my psyche have been filled with the very prim lives of Jane Austen's characters (but always a happy ending!) and the not so prim lives of the 30's and 40's (but no swearing or nudity or red blood!) making watching real TV again very difficult for me.  

Classic Movie Sickness

I am currently in a storm of classic movie viewing. Well, as much as I can in between my other duties and generally busy life. Thank goodness for DVR, I love DVR and I would give up a lot of other things before it.

Currently on TCM, the most beautiful tv station on earth, there is a nightly series of actors, directors and sundry celebrities picking their favorite movies.It has provided some interesting peeks into their tastes and a bunch of exciting movies. Some I've never seen, some old favorites, some real classics. Neil LaBute picked Manhattan and The 400 Blows, James Elroy picked a bunch of unknown film noir movies, Donald Trump picked Gone With the Wind and Citizen Kane, Harvey Firestein picked The Women. Not many surprises there!

Right now I'm watching A Catered Affair (Harvey pick-he has recently turned it into a musical) it has a 50's teleplay quality, the actors very soap opera-ish, but with more realism. Not sure if I'll see it through to the end. Although Bette Davis is quite a pull for me, I can't help but get involved with her. She's always glorious, I can't take my eyes off her. She plays a working class woman who's daughter (played by Debbie Reynolds-who is so pretty!) is getting married, it deals with the issues of what kind of wedding it will be and the social and financial pressures involved.

One of my favorite things to do during a classic movie is look closely at the set decoration. These realistic movies provide a peek into how people really lived. Not like those insane Art Deco sets from the 30's. The rooms in this NY apartment are small and crammed full of furniture and knick knacks, the lighting is harsh, the appliances antiquated. Bette Davis is pulling frozen clothes from the clothesline through the window. Wow, I'm totally sucked in now, Bette is so good at portraying this ordinary woman, I imagine this is how Mark's grandma was in the 50's very practical, no nonsense almost to a fault.

This weekend we watched Manhattan for the first time. How we managed to not watch it all these years I don't know. We love Woody Allen and Manhattan! It was a good movie, a bit disconserting at first- what with Woody dating the teenaged Mariel Hemingway. It was a relief when he started dating Diane Keaton. But she turns out to be a total basket case and not a very good match anyway.  She cracked us up the way she kept proclaiming "I'm from Philadelphia! I'm beautiful, I'm smart I deserve better than this!" Turns out the teenager was the smartest, most grounded person in the movie. Mariel did a wonderous, naturalistic job at her role. She was quite real- I felt as if she could walk off the screen and live down the street.  Then I would have to figure out a way to talk her out of dating a man older than her father.

The part that made me cringe the most was when Woody planted a kiss on Miss Hemingway. But I have to think if it had been George Clooney or Johnny Depp kissing a girl of that age- would it have bothered me? Maybe not so much? Is it all about looks? I tried to think of someone on a scale and age as Woody Allen in the 70's. I came up with William H. Macy. Would it be freaky to see him kissing some pretty young thing, like one of those Disney starlets? Yes, I think so.  So maybe it is looks. Ah, but then I remember Love in the Afternoon with an aging Gary Cooper and a very young Audrey Hepburn. He was still quite good looking in his late 50's, but downright elderly next to the very young looking Audrey, now that was an uncomfortable pair. Looks don't work in that case.

One of my favorite parts in Manhattan took place at an ERA fundraiser, packed with lots of high brow intellectuals, having these inane conversations. Woody breaks in on one regarding a Nazi rally and how it should be responded to. One highbrow notes that the Times published a scathing satirical piece and Allen says "Well, a satirical piece in the Times is one thing, but bricks and baseball bats really gets right to the point." Just plain funny. You realize when you watch Woody Allen from the 70's how much other movies owe to his. Especially Annie Hall, every romantic comedy after seems to use parts of that movie.

Another movie we watched this weekend was Kung Fu Hustle.  It was quite good!  But I'll leave that for another day.

Another BLOG

Another blog. Yes, I have one or two already at other places. But I don't really use them. Should I start a new one? I should be sleeping instead.

Came here to join my friends at Mixmoo. I like this clean space. It's nice. Who would read this? Me? I like to see myself in writing. I'm so vain. Probably think this blog is about me.

Maybe I will just talk about music here.

I've recently discovered Belle & Sebastian. Crazy. Somehow I missed them when they first came out. Think it was when I was in my super duper Duke Ellington stage. Anway, I like 'em. A lot. Recently bought Camera Obscura also, due to recommendation by iTunes. That iTunes is always looking out for me.

Thought I'd lost my iPod. Found it in my raincoat pocket. I was so relieved.

Amazing how far I've come- from taping songs off my clock radio with my little cassette player. I would turn the radio on its side and push the cassette player's microphone next to the radio's tiny little speaker. Sounded pretty good to me, as long as my brother didn't make noise. Shhh!!! I'm making a tape!!! OH, and discovering because of the ultra cheap tapes I had bought and the subsequent sound bleed through- that Led Zepplin really did say "hail to my sweet satan" backwards on "Stairway to Heaven" A chilling jr high moment, indeed.

Next came the ultimate machine- a boom box, that had a radio and cassette player in one! Then, the ultimate ultimate, the double cassette player/recorder! Jeepers. I could mix radio songs and cassette tapes. Moved on to stereo components with the addition of a record player. I was cooking with gas then. Remember trying to perfectly fit songs on a cassette? I kind of miss those days. It was a real challenge. That moment, staring intently in the dark little hole of the cassette tape- hoping and pleading that the tape wouldn't run out before the last song was done.

Now, I'm downloading songs left and right, sometimes I don't even know what I have anymore. Songs will play, and I'll wonder where they came from. At one time, I only owned enough cassette tapes to fit in my tiny, wooden tape holder, maybe about 10 cassettes. I would line them up and look at them lovingly. I knew all the songs by heart.

My iPod is a little miracle. I remember travelling with my giant boombox in the car. Thing ate batteries like a-something eats something it really likes a lot- and it was a bit cumbersome. What would I have given for the CD burner, the MP3, the ability to carry the equivlent of several milk crates full of albums in my car and choose a song at will? Or to be able to make playlists of song titles containing the word "summer." I never could have dreamed it up. And yet I always longed for it. It's all like a dream come true.