Henry Fonda better pick up his game, is all I can say.
Monday, 11 January 2016 06:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
carose59I Also Brought Jimmy Belushi Back To Life For That Scene. He'd Been Killed Earlier. I Put A Bandage On His Head And Said, "You're Alive. Here Are Your Lines."*
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After my dissatisfaction with Welcome to Hard Times, finding that I actively hated his character in Sometimes a Great Notion was very unpleasant. I need to see him in a comedy. If I have to, I'll watch The Male Animal, undoubtedly my favorite of his films.
The thing is, in certain roles Henry Fonda has this hyper-annoying attitude. It's something I noticed in Wilford Brimley many years ago: a certain sanctimony that just makes me want to slap him—either of them. I think of it as, "Even when I'm wrong, I'm still righter than you."
Right now I'm watching my favorite part of The Pirates of Penzance: With Catlike Tread. Kevin Kline and Rex Smith are so clearly having a blast leaping about, screaming in each others' faces, Russian cossack dancing, using their swords as jump ropes. (The thing that annoyed me the most about The Pirate Move—besides the fact that it was a comedic take-off of a comedy, which seems pointless to me—was that they sang With Catlike Tread in a whisper. It's meant to be sung at the top of your lungs; that's the joke. ["With cat-like tread, Upon our prey we steal; In silence dread, Our cautious way we feel. No sound at all! We never speak a word; A fly's foot-fall Would be distinctly heard—"]) It makes me insanely happy.
I also love The My Eyes Are Fully Open, which started its life in Ruddigore; or, The Witch's Curse but which fits here beautifully.
And, you know, Kevin Kline. He's so insanely alive, you just can't take your eyes off him, and those striking blue eyes—he was beautiful. Pat and I saw it in the theatre and spent half the movie whispering to each other, "Who is that guy?" We agreed that we hadn't seen him before because neither of us would have forgotten him. This happens to be true, we hadn't seen him before, he'd been on one soap neither of us watched, had a couple other TV appearances, and had been in Sophie's Choice, which I still haven't seen. (And don't plan to.)
The last time I watched Pirates, I read up on it some and I found out that Gilbert & Sullivan essentially invented modern comedy as we know it, but I need to do some more reading before I write anything more. I do remember years ago reading that one of them—I think it was Gilbert—was actually abducted by pirates as a small boy while playing at the seashore. But a quick search hasn't told me anything, and I'm not going to keep looking right now.
I'm a little movie-obsessed right now because I've been transferring all my Netflix ratings to imdb. It's not really about rating stuff, it's about having a list of as many of the movies I've seen all in one place where nobody can break in and steal it. I'm up to over three thousand, and I've got over two hundred more to add.
It's gotten complicated, though, in weird, existential way. There are plenty of movies I know I've seen—Shirley Temple movies, for example—but it's been nearly fifty years in some cases, and while I know I've seen them, I have no idea whether or not I liked them. And clearly my opinion as a seven year old is different than my opinion as a nearly-fifty-seven year old. So I'm going to watch a bunch of Shirley Temple movies. Also Andy Hardy movies (I've probably seen all of them, but who knows? I mean, I don't, and really, who else would? Pat, maybe, if she were here to tell me. She remembered stuff. But she wouldn't know what Shirley Temple movies I watched as a kid. (By the way, she loved The Pirates of Penzance and also The Pirate Movie.)
So I'm watching stuff. Hope & Crosby movies. Andy Hardy movies. Shirley Temple movies. Fred Astaire movies.
Not right now, you understand; I don't have any of them here. Right now I'm watching All the President's Men. (I watched my favorite Pirates scenes a couple of times and moved on while writing this.)
William Goldman wrote one version of the screenplay, and he's credited with it, but I can't remember if this is really his version or what. I know there were complications, and other versions—I think Nora Ephron wrote one (she used to be married to Carl Bernstein)—and Goldman wasn't happy about it. (Man, I love his books about writing, about Hollywood. Really, you should read them. His style is so conversational and accessible and entertaining, he could write about paint drying and it would be a page-turner.) I can find him in the movie, I can hear him.
*Penny Marshall
-:- -:- -:- -:-
After my dissatisfaction with Welcome to Hard Times, finding that I actively hated his character in Sometimes a Great Notion was very unpleasant. I need to see him in a comedy. If I have to, I'll watch The Male Animal, undoubtedly my favorite of his films.
The thing is, in certain roles Henry Fonda has this hyper-annoying attitude. It's something I noticed in Wilford Brimley many years ago: a certain sanctimony that just makes me want to slap him—either of them. I think of it as, "Even when I'm wrong, I'm still righter than you."
Right now I'm watching my favorite part of The Pirates of Penzance: With Catlike Tread. Kevin Kline and Rex Smith are so clearly having a blast leaping about, screaming in each others' faces, Russian cossack dancing, using their swords as jump ropes. (The thing that annoyed me the most about The Pirate Move—besides the fact that it was a comedic take-off of a comedy, which seems pointless to me—was that they sang With Catlike Tread in a whisper. It's meant to be sung at the top of your lungs; that's the joke. ["With cat-like tread, Upon our prey we steal; In silence dread, Our cautious way we feel. No sound at all! We never speak a word; A fly's foot-fall Would be distinctly heard—"]) It makes me insanely happy.
I also love The My Eyes Are Fully Open, which started its life in Ruddigore; or, The Witch's Curse but which fits here beautifully.
And, you know, Kevin Kline. He's so insanely alive, you just can't take your eyes off him, and those striking blue eyes—he was beautiful. Pat and I saw it in the theatre and spent half the movie whispering to each other, "Who is that guy?" We agreed that we hadn't seen him before because neither of us would have forgotten him. This happens to be true, we hadn't seen him before, he'd been on one soap neither of us watched, had a couple other TV appearances, and had been in Sophie's Choice, which I still haven't seen. (And don't plan to.)
The last time I watched Pirates, I read up on it some and I found out that Gilbert & Sullivan essentially invented modern comedy as we know it, but I need to do some more reading before I write anything more. I do remember years ago reading that one of them—I think it was Gilbert—was actually abducted by pirates as a small boy while playing at the seashore. But a quick search hasn't told me anything, and I'm not going to keep looking right now.
I'm a little movie-obsessed right now because I've been transferring all my Netflix ratings to imdb. It's not really about rating stuff, it's about having a list of as many of the movies I've seen all in one place where nobody can break in and steal it. I'm up to over three thousand, and I've got over two hundred more to add.
It's gotten complicated, though, in weird, existential way. There are plenty of movies I know I've seen—Shirley Temple movies, for example—but it's been nearly fifty years in some cases, and while I know I've seen them, I have no idea whether or not I liked them. And clearly my opinion as a seven year old is different than my opinion as a nearly-fifty-seven year old. So I'm going to watch a bunch of Shirley Temple movies. Also Andy Hardy movies (I've probably seen all of them, but who knows? I mean, I don't, and really, who else would? Pat, maybe, if she were here to tell me. She remembered stuff. But she wouldn't know what Shirley Temple movies I watched as a kid. (By the way, she loved The Pirates of Penzance and also The Pirate Movie.)
So I'm watching stuff. Hope & Crosby movies. Andy Hardy movies. Shirley Temple movies. Fred Astaire movies.
Not right now, you understand; I don't have any of them here. Right now I'm watching All the President's Men. (I watched my favorite Pirates scenes a couple of times and moved on while writing this.)
William Goldman wrote one version of the screenplay, and he's credited with it, but I can't remember if this is really his version or what. I know there were complications, and other versions—I think Nora Ephron wrote one (she used to be married to Carl Bernstein)—and Goldman wasn't happy about it. (Man, I love his books about writing, about Hollywood. Really, you should read them. His style is so conversational and accessible and entertaining, he could write about paint drying and it would be a page-turner.) I can find him in the movie, I can hear him.
*Penny Marshall