But first, some driver’s ed simulator films to put you into a trance…
And then…Gene Kelly in the making-of featurette for VIVA KNIEVEL (1977)?
Oh, sad day, Gene, that you were reduced to greasemonkey status in a film starring a stuntman.
And Dorothy Malone is wondering how the hell she got roped into THE FAST AND THE FURIOUS (1954). Her character was trapped in an abandoned shack and got the bright idea to light it on fire to attract attention WHILE SHE WAS LOCKED INSIDE IT!
Director George A. Romero as a priest in MARTIN (1977)…
…and John Sayles as one of the Men in Black in THE BROTHER FROM ANOTHER PLANET (1984). Okay, this is Joe Morton below, of course, not John Sayles; I didn’t get a picture of the latter. But: <squeeeeeee>, that high-pitched noise he and David Straithairn made—ooh, I just about peed my pants with laughter.
How much of a coincidence is it that both directors of tonight’s films had amazingly well-acted cameos in their own films? Romero played a practical, sweet-liqueur-loving priest not about to put up with a lot of mystical guff. And Sayles? I didn’t even recognize him as the taller twin of the alien “slave”-hunters.
And, just ‘cos I’m a sentimental twit, a lovely dawn picture of the other twins:
Filmmaker Britta Sjogren was present at this screening of JO-JO AT THE GATE OF LIONS (1992), the culmination of the “Into the Vortex: Female Voice in Film” series at PFA. She gave an interesting talk about the different ways voice operates in this and the other films in the series; how voice is “slippery” and difficult to pin down, both in its origin and purpose; and how voice-over, diegetic, and mediated voices blur point of view, position, boundary, and subjectivity. A disembodied, omniscient voice, from a woman without a larynx, is associated with the crone’s hands on Jo-Jo’s face, above.
The female protagonist in this film—and most of the others in the series—waits: for the “right” man, the “right” time, an answer, her close-up.
Yeah, yeah, I know it’s YOUNG AMERICA (1932), not “Young Americans,” but that doesn’t stop my brain from singing this. Plus there’re a lot of young americans in this sweet, funny, stupid little film:
…a young Ralph Bellamy, and…
…a baby-faced Spencer Tracy. Oh, and a bunch of really cute juvenile delinquent kids. The print looked so rich and with just the right amount of shimmery contrast; the preservation team under Bob Gitt at UCLA filled in all the jumpy bits around the head and tail leaders with full audio and brief seconds of still image where the missing frames were. A brilliantly done—and not overdone—preservation.
Love and how it alters our subjective perception from rupture to rapture in THE ENCHANTED COTTAGE (1945). The lady “monster”…
…metamorphoses into the lovely woman whose clothes fit, whose hair is coiffed, and whose lips are rouged.
Watching this film with my sweetie made me wonder…should I be wearing more lipstick?
I now understand how this could be true.
Show me more of the cute Italian bows grooving to the new dance steps, plus another shot (why only one shot?!) of that beehived lady behind the counter at Bar Las Vegas! HAWKS AND SPARROWS (1965).
Along with an uncredited Nick Nolte (whom I didn’t spot), DIRTY LITTLE BILLY (1972) cameos included Gary Busey and Dick Van Patten, the dad from Eight is Enough, as a client of Billy’s prostitute buddy! (The latter got the biggest laugh of the screening.) Mucky, muddy, dusty, sweaty, this film is mired in moral and physical grime, plus that really red, red fake blood that the special effects people hadn’t yet perfected in the 1970s.
In the middle of the film, in a bid to keep myself awake, I nipped out of the theater to get a drink of water. And there was a dog. Blocking the aisle. Not a service dog. A white, frizzy little thing—its owner dragged it under the seat so I wouldn’t step on it. That was the most interesting part about watching WE ALL LOVED EACH OTHER SO MUCH (1974). Oh, okay, there was another interesting tidbit around which a subplot revolves: that de Sica made the actor who played little Bruno Ricci in Bicycle Thieves cry by planting cigarette butts in his pocket and then calling him a “ragpicker.” Otherwise, the little boy couldn’t eke out any tears.
When a pissy Raymond Burr throws a bowlful of flaming spirits at his ladyfriend, the RAW DEAL (1948) gets flambéed!
Maybe Babs Stanwyck wouldn’t have NO MAN OF HER OWN (1950) if her makeup artist didn’t insist on clowning up her upper lip! But you better believe that trying on another woman’s wedding ring is bad luck—did you see how those two pregnant gals got tumble-dried in their train carriage? An implausibly delightful (or delightfully implausible) little lady film noir.
Le Tigre asked. ”Misogynist? Genius? Alcoholic? Messiah?” they suggested. I’m in the misogynist camp. But Peter Falk saves A WOMAN UNDER THE INFLUENCE (1974), and so did this glorious print—from the original camera negative—preserved by my friend Ross at UCLA.