American Gabsters

Wise: Hi there, Werth!

Werth: Hi there, Wise!  I see you're chipper today.

Wise: Because BAM's American Gagster Festival is running now through September 17th.  It's a series of fifty classic comedies from the Golden Age of Hollywood to the 1980's and celebrates some of the most hilarious actor/director partnerships in cinema history. 

Werth: I'm assuming that Adam Sandler is not represented.

Wise: Unfortunately not, but the festival kicks off with the detective comedy classic The Thin Man (1934).  Adapted from the novel by Dashiell Hammett, the film adds a madcap gloss to the book's gumshoe aesthetic.  William Powell and Myran Loy play Nick and Nora Charles—he a retired, tippling detective and she a glamorous heiress—who get pulled into the case of missing inventor Clyde Wynant (Edward Ellis) whose mistress turns up dead.  

Werth: Because nothing is funnier than a dimestore blonde with a bullet in her back.

Wise: The film is a strange—but delightful—hybrid of film noir and screwball comedy, filled with street toughs lurking in shadows, loud-mouthed dames, but leavened by the amazing chemistry between Powell and Loy.  Powell's performance as cocktail guzzling Nick is loaded with charm as he nimbly displays a sparkling verbal acuity as well as a liver that just won't quit.

Werth: How he shoots balloons off a Christmas tree after five martinis I'll never know. 

Wise: But just as spectacular is Loy's effervescent performance as Nora.  Taking what could have been yet another dithering society girl, Loy gives Nora beauty and brains and shows she knows how to use both.  

Her devotion to Nick makes him sexy, and just as Ginger Rogers brought out Fred Astaire's carnality, Loy makes a funny-looking man with an odd talent into an object of desire.

Werth: She should have been paired up with Peter Lorre.

Wise: Of course, I have to mention the other great performance in the film: Skippy as the Charles' wire-haired fox terrier Asta.  Instead of remaining a canine accessory, Asta ferrets out both clues and comic relief, plus sparked a nationwide frenzy for the breed.  Director W.S. Van Dyke gives Asta some of the best screen moments, which actually seems to point to Van Dyke's strength as a director.  

Known around the MGM lot as "one take Woody," he shot The Thin Man in about fourteen days, and while he dispenses with some of the visual flourishes that might have marked him an auteur, his strategy seems to have been laying a solid groundwork, then getting out of the way while his on-screen talent made fireworks of their own.

 Werth: I think I'll go to BAM to take in one of my favorite laugh-fests, Preston Sturges' classic, Sullivan's Travels (1941).

Wise: You mentioned that flick once before in our posting about silver screen racism.


Werth: I did, because one particular scene does smack of racist stereotypes, but interestingly enough as the movie progresses, Sturges seems to comment on these sterotypes as he explores the difference and interdependence between comedy and drama.

John L. Sullivan (Joel McCrea) is a successful director of frothy comedies like Ants in Your Plants and Hey, Hey in the Hayloft. But he has tired of making the world laugh and wants to instead address the serious issues of poverty and homelessness in America in a new film called O Brother, Where Art Thou?

Wise: Talk about being stuck in development until George Clooney and the Coen brothers took it on. 

Werth: But after an argument with his producers, Sullivan realizes that he doesn't have any idea what it means to be poor or in trouble. So he decides to dress in the era's hobo-chic and ride the rails to connect with the common man. Sullivan's producers balk at the idea of their big money-making vehicle driving off the road, so they have him followed by a crew of keepers, doctors and reporters in a "land-yacht."

In the midst of trying to shake this stellar group of character actors (including Sturges favorite William Demarest), Sullivan meets a failed starlet (ethereal and pregnant at the time Veronica Lake) who joins in on his adventure to help him experience life on the wrong side of the tracks. The film has all the Sturges comedy hallmarks of pratfalls, bullet-fast dialogue and complex physical comedy scenes—like when the inside of the land-yacht turns into a funhouse as the bus drives off-road chasing Sullivan in a nitrus-powered kiddie car.

Wise: I guess Lucy's pratfalls in The Long, Long Trailer (1953) weren't so original.

Werth: But mid-way, the film takes a fascinating turn. As Sullivan and his partner walk into trainyards, shanty-towns, and soup kitchens, Sturges shows an assemblage of disturbingly real faces—worn, grizzled, forgotten, White, Black, and Brown. As Sullivan is shanghaied, mistaken for dead and put on a Southern chaingang, the movie leaves the realm of comedy entirely, making us realize that maybe the tumbles into swimming pools, wisecracks and flying cake batter aren't so important. But to Sturges, they are.

The legendary scene of the prisoners watching a Mickey and Pluto cartoon in a Black church is a touching (albeit obvious) depiction of the power of comedy to elevate our spirits, if only for a moment. The film asserts that comedy lifts humanity out of the troubles of life and that it's better to go to a movie to laugh than to cry. But it's not that simple.

Sturges uses drama in Sullivan's Travels to help us arrive at his theme of comedy conquers all, making drama and comedy an inseparable yin and yang of the Hollywood movie and our lives.

Wise: Which reminds me of another inseparable pairing: Film Gab and Next Week.  

Werth: Hilarious! And don't forget to catch a little comedy genius at BAM.   

Film Gab Under the Stars

Werth: It's here, Wise!

Wise: Did my Liza Minnelli puppet finally arrive from Amsterdam?

Werth: No. And I don't know what disturbs me more—the puppet or you posting that clip. I'm talking about the annual HBO Bryant Park Summer Film Festival that starts Monday!

 Wise: It's the official start to summer in New York.  For those of us without digs in the Hamptons. 

Werth: For ten Mondays in the summer, lovely Bryant Park becomes an outdoor movie theater that presents some of the most popular classic films for our viewing pleasure.

Wise: I love cinema al fresco. 

Werth: I thought before we talk about some of the offerings this year, I'd give a few helpful hints to make our readers' Bryant Park moviegoing experience more pleasant.

Wise: You are always so generous with advice.
 

Werth: First of all—be on time. The grounds open at 5PM and it's like the Oklahoma Land Rush to grab a spot on the lawn, so get there early to get the choicest seat. Secondly—in addition to a blanket, bring trash bags to sit on just in case the ground is damp. Because nothing spoils a show more than a damp bottom.  Afterward you can be a good citizen and use the bag  to throw out any garbage.

Wise: I try to avoid damp bottoms and come prepared with my vinyl-backed flannel picnic blanket that folds into a neat satchel. 

Werth: Most people bring lovely food and drink items to enjoy picnic style, and I always wonder, "Hey, can I wash down that triple creme brie with a glass of chardonnay?" The technical answer is no. Alcohol is not allowed in NYC parks—but in my experience if you're discreet and not hauling a keg in, you'll probably be all right bringing a bottle of wine to add a touch of sparkle to your evening.

Wise: Or just pour your wine into a Sprite bottle like Werth does for family functions.

Werth: Finally, before you settle into the movie, remember to give yourself a quick spritz of bug repellent 'cause the only thing that likes a dusk-time movie more than you are bloodthirsty swarms of mosquitoes.

Wise: Enough tips! Which movies should we see?

Werth: The list is quite fun this year, but my personal pick would be July 25th's The Lady Eve (1941) with Barbara Stanwyck and Henry Fonda.

Wise: The Lady Eve on a Summer's eve?  Sounds totally fresh.

Werth: Eve is yet another classic comedy from the hilarious pen and lens of Preston Sturges. Fonda is a milquetoast reptile expert who also happens to be an heir to an ale empire.

Wise: Snakes and beer—your favorites.

Werth: Fonda is coming home to New York on a boat from South America when the con-artist team of Stanwyck and Charles Coburn decide to fleece him for all he's worth. True to the romantic comedy genre, the hunter falls for the hunted and soon, in classic Sturges style, romance becomes a tangled, witty, pratfall-laden mess. 

Stanwyck in particular really shines as the sultry and smart gal who wants love, revenge, and then love again. The scene where she narrates as she watches in the reflection of her compact the ship's eligible bachelorettes attempt to woo Fonda at his table is some of the most whip-smart comedy of Sturges' career. Wonderful supporting work from a few of the best character actors of the time period (Coburn, William Demerest, Eugene Pallette and Eric Blore) make Eve a light summertime frolic, tailor-made for a snakeless park.

Wise: Comedies are perfect viewing for picnics with friends, so I'd suggest seeing Airplane! (1980) on August 8th because there's really nothing quite like snorting not-Sprite right out your nose. 

Werth: Unless of course it's snorting not-Coke.

Wise: The grandaddy of the hugely successful Naked Gun and Scary Movie franchises, Airplane! tops them all in sheer, gleeful absurdity.  

Co-written and -directed by David Zucker, Jim Abrahams, and Jerry Zucker, the film follows traumatized WWII pilot Ted Striker (Robert Hays) as he attempts to patch up his rocky relationship with his stewardess girlfriend Elaine Dickinson (Julie Hagerty) on a doomed flight from Los Angeles to Chicago.  Only by overcoming his worst fears can he save the day and get the girl.  

Werth: You make the plot sound like it's a classic airline disaster film.

Wise: That's part of what makes Airplane! such a successful comedy. The film sticks to the classic structure of Hollywood disaster films, but follows that logic to the most absurd ends. Plus the cast is full of tough guy stalwarts like Lloyd Bridges, Robert Stack, Peter Graves, and (perhaps most successfully) Leslie Nielsen, each of them playing to type and without a wink to the chaos around them. 

Werth: I particularly love the actors' straight delivery of such memorable lines as, "Joey, do you like movies about gladiators?", "Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit drinking," and "I am serious... and don't call me Shirley. "

Wise: Of course I can't talk about Airplane! without mentioning the two single most hilarious screen cameos ever filmed.  I won't spoil it for anyone who hasn't seen the movie, but please look out for Barbara Billingsley and Ethel Merman.
 

Werth: So, Wise, what delicious items will you be bringing in your picnic basket?

Wise: Simple things, like bread, cheese and fruits.  Maybe a tart for dessert.

Werth: I love tarts.

Wise: We knew that about you.

Werth: So bring your damp bottoms, your Sprite bottles and your tarts to Bryant Park this Summer and join us next week for more Film Gab.

The Yunioshi Problem

Werth: Hey, Wise.

Wise: Hey, Werth.

Werth: I’ve been thinking lately about something serious—

Wise: Your Jesse Tyler Ferguson scrapbook?

Werth: No—I mean, yes, that too—but I was thinking of something else. Maybe there's some racial zeitgeist in the air with the publishing of the new edition of Huckleberry Finn sans the 'n' word because a friend of mine posted something on Facebook recently that made me want to address a similar controversial topic in film history.

Wise: I’m hot for controversial. Please address.

Werth: Well, this posting started off by asserting that the casting of Mickey Rooney as Mr. Yunioshi in Breakfast at Tiffany’s was racist.

Wise: I'd probably agree with that.

Werth: I know. It was 1961. The Civil Rights Act hadn’t even passed yet, so it’s no surprise that Hollywood was still selling racial stereotypes. But what really interested me about the posting was some of the responses to it. One person said Rooney’s performance made it impossible to watch the film at all.

Wise: But Breakfast at Tiffany’s is so wonderful! Wouldn't it be better to just close your eyes and plug your ears whenever Rooney appears on screen?

Werth: Like what I do whenever there’s a snake in a movie.

Wise: I’ve had to be your snake alert system so many times.

Werth: Due to the unfortunate parts of this country‘s history and culture, there are some really good movies out there that have some less than flattering depictions of minorities—or even worse, blatant black- or yellow-face performances.

Wise: I think the question becomes even more complicated when the portrayal isn’t intended to be comic.  Something like Broken Blossoms, a Lillian Gish film from 1919—

Werth: —directed by the always racially sensitive D.W. Griffith—

Wise: —where Gish plays the abused daughter of a prize fighter who finds temporary haven in the home of a Chinese immigrant.  Clearly this film was intended to address racism and yet it feels offensive to modern audiences because of actor Richard Barthelmess playing the hero Chen Huan. 

Werth: To quote a racial stereotype, “Ah so.”

Wise: Or look at  The Good Earth based on Pearl S. Buck’s wildly popular novel from 1931.  Buck grew up in China as the child of missionaries and was deeply interested in portraying that culture accurately.  When MGM made the film, of course a lot of the “Orientalisms” were emphasized, but the core of the picture is about one family’s struggle out of poverty and the treacherous blessings that prosperity can bring.  There are comic characters, yes, but the family’s plight is always treated with dignity and respect. 

Werth: Even though half of that family is played by white actors in slanty-eye make-up. 

Wise: That’s very true.  As you mentioned in a previous post, Anna Mae Wong lost the female lead to Luise Rainer because Hollywood wouldn’t allow a romantic scene between a white actor and an Asian one. But I have to say Rainer is fantastic as the self-sacrificing wife O-lan.  She doesn’t look anything like a Chinese peasant, but her performance is so heart-felt that by the end of the movie, at least for me, the preposterous make-up fades away and I find myself deeply moved.

Werth: I’m moved that Luise Rainer is still with us and will be turning 101 years old next week.

Wise: Happy Birthday, Luise!

Werth: But back on topic, with dramas like The Good Earth you have the time to develop characters so that these faux racial performances can grow on you. I think reactions to performances like Rooney’s in Tiffany’s are so intense because it comes out of nowhere. Here’s this modern-feeling, comic take on female sexual independence and then, Hello! Rooney in buckteeth and Coke bottle glasses.

Wise: Everything about those Rooney scenes feels out of place, the pacing, the humor, even the logic of the world they exist in.  It’s like they were imported from an entirely different film. 

Werth: One of my all-time favorite comedies has the same issue. Preston Sturges’ 1942 screw-ball classic The Palm Beach Story is a riotous adventure with a loose take on marriage and divorce. Vivid comic bombshell characters abound like The Weenie King and Toto, the unknown foreign language spouting ex-paramour of Princess Centemila (played with sheer joyous abandon by normally staid Mary Astor). Then all of a sudden there’s a scene in a train where the black bartender is all, “Yessuh” and “Nawssuh,” to a group of drunken hunters who force him to throw crackers into the air for their target practice, the buckshot narrowly missing him in the gun revelry.

Wise: To quote another racial stereotype, “Lawdy, lawdy!”

Werth: The pop-eyed antics and shimmying are right out of the “Colored Actors Playbook.” Even the actor’s screen-credited name smacks of a minstrel show—Snowflake.

Wise: Snowflake?  That’s like a ten-year-old’s name for her pony.

Werth: And this wasn’t the only time Sturges used African Americans in a similarly degrading way. The otherwise brilliant Sullivan’s Travels has a black cook thrown around the inside of a careening trailer until he winds up with his head in a bowl of batter, wearing white face. For a director whose themes always seemed to be so much ahead of their time, Sturges was still susceptible to the overriding culture’s “funny” stereotypical depictions.

Wise: But does it make you not want to watch these movies?

Werth: No. And to dispute one of the other post responses, it doesn’t make me want to edit the offensive scenes out either.

Wise: I think editing out a stereotype gives it more power than it deserves.  If past mistakes are hidden away, how can we confront them and avoid them in the future?  A sanitized version of history is a faulty one.

Werth: And to edit a work that was created outside of the current social setting is a slippery slope. What will be edited next? Is Hattie McDaniel in Gone With the Wind  an editable stereotype? Is Carmen Ghia in The Producers too stereotypically gay a character to be seen? Will future obesity rights activists have us remove Martha Dumptruck from Heathers because she is the object of weight-obsessed ridicule?

Wise: And who will be deciding these edits?

Werth: Exactly. We’ve been there and done that. From 1934 to 1964, rabid Catholic Joseph I. Breen as head of the Production Code Administration had a say in almost every Hollywood picture made. It amounted to movies where characters didn’t use language that real people used and nobody could lie on a bed together without one foot touching the floor.

Wise: That’s how I’ve always done it.

Werth: Not to mention that films with black characters in them were made in such a way that when they played in the South, the characters could be cut out by the theater owners who didn't want black characters in their all-white cinemas. Do we really want to go back to a time where someone decides what we should and shouldn't see?

Wise: Not in my America.

Werth: I guess what I’m trying to say is, there are some awful stereotypes in these old movies. We must learn from them, not reject the entire movie or pretend the problem scenes aren’t there.

Wise: I couldn’t have said it better myself.

Werth: Thank you.

Wise: Now can next week’s posting be less serious?

Werth: Tune in next week for a return to our light-hearted and un-serious Film Gab!