Hidden Gem: State Fair (1962)

Our state fair, is the best state fair in our state.

I have always been fascinated by the way people watch films, especially how they chose the films they see. A person's past repertoire of films seen says a lot about who they are and what motivates them. I like to think that the body of films I've seen shows that I'm adventurous, curious, open-minded, passionate and emotionally-driven. It also demonstrates how I tend to form attachments, especially to particular persons.

State Fair (1962) is one of many remakes of the classic Rodgers and Hammerstein musical. The film is difficult to find. It is not often shown on TV and it's not available on it's own DVD. Rather, it lives in the bonus materials of it's more popular sibling, the 1945 version. You wouldn't think to look for it there, if you were searching for it. And why would you be searching for it anyways?

I found it because I was actively searching for it as one of the many Bobby Darin films I wanted to see (because I Heart Bobby Darin!). I watched it first, before seeing the 1945 version, and was pleasantly surprised. I'm not usually one for musicals but there was something light and refreshingly bouyant about this film. My favorite part was the feeling I had of having unearthed a hidden gem...

... and then came the domino-effect. Watching this film became a catalyst for watching many more. I loved the music in this film, so I watched the 1945 version to get another dose of it. Then I found that I really enjoyed Dana Andrews in that film, and maybe I should watch another one of his. Oh, and look at that. Alice Faye made her film comeback with State Fair (1962) , her last film after Fallen Angel (1945), which also stars Dana Andrews, so I saw that. Then there was Pamela Tiffin, who I found pleasantly annoying as Bobby Darin's love interest. Then I stumble upon her film Come Fly with Me (1963), a nice '60s romantic comedy, which introduced me to Dolores Hart, who was in another film Where the Boys Are (1960), which of course I had to see. Also, State Fair (1962) was my first introduction to Ann-Margret, and I just had to see another of her films, so I saw Made in Paris (1966). This made me realize, that the '60s weren't so bad and that actually I really love '60s romantic/sex comedies and wanted to watch more of those films and so on and so forth. I could go on (because it did go on from there) but I think you get the drift.

This is very representative of my viewing pattern. I watch one film, I enjoy it, I can't get enough, so I watch a lot more semi-related films. It's a wonder I find time to do anything else. I do however, highly recommend watching this film, if you haven't already. Ignore moral of the story, which is out-dated and quite boring, and enjoy it as a fun and light musical. And who knows, maybe you'll go on a fun-filled film journey afterwards like I did.

Catalyst for a Little Crazy

Has watching a particular film ever made you do something kind of strange? Maybe even a little crazy? Not Taxi Driver (1976)/attempted-assasination-on-a-president type of crazy, but something that might warrant a raised eyebrow?

I'm what you might call an "emotional viewer." Movies (and books too) intertwine themselves into my life, and to some extent I become emotionally invested in them. They affect me and I think about them long after seeing them, especially if I can relate to a theme or a particular character. So, sometimes, after watching a particularly touching story, I tend to become, let's say... over-enthustiastic.

All That Heaven Allows (1956)/Breakfast at Tiffany's (1961) - Double Feature - I watched both films for the first time within a week of each other. And for months afterwards, I could not stop craving croissants and coffee! In All That Heaven Allows, one of the most romantic scenes is when Jane Wyman's character offers Rock Hudson's character breakfast and he only takes a roll and coffee. That is the moment when their love starts to blossom. Then in Breakfast at Tiffany's, Holly Golightly, who I think is the epitome of self-transformation and classic style, pulls out a croissant and sips at her coffee while admiring a window display showcasing jewels. I could not help thinking that she was just so hip and so cool and why am I not more like her?!

Pillow Talk (1959) - My pillow and I, both agree, there must be a pillow-talking boy for me. My favorite part about this movie is the title song. I find myself humming it or outright singing it as I wash the dishes, sweep the floors, make the bed etc. etc. Especially if I'm rueing the sometimes sorry state of being a single, independent professional woman.

84 Charing Cross Road (1986) and book - This story (based on a real life cross-atlantic friendship) is one of the many reasons I took a trip to England a few years back. I made a point to go to Charing Cross Road in London and find the location of the original store. I knew beforehand that the actual bookstore wouldn't be there but at the same time I wasn't expecting to find a Pizza Hut! In the end, I was happy to see a commemorative plaque in honor of this amazing story.

Update: Strangers on a Train (1951)

"I certainly admire people who do things." - Bruno

My second viewing of this film went really well. It was great to see it on the big screen in a proper theatre with good friends close by. I managed to successfuly maintain a steady breathing pattern, most noticeably through the party scene. However, there were moments in which I felt that my heart would leap out of my chest. This film is thrilling and creepy on a psychological level and it didn't lose much of its potency the second time around.

It's funny the things you forget about a film over time. My memory bank seems to have deleted (or just plain neglected) some things from my first viewing. The opening sequence with the camera following two different pairs of shoes (Bruno's flashy ones and Guy's practical ones) and the really cool shot of the murder shot through the reflection of the lense of a pair of glasses were both welcome surprises. I quite enjoyed the creepiness the infamous tennis court scene where Bruno's gaze is firmly fixed on Guy while everyone else in the stands follows the ball back and forth. And I had forgotten how thrilling the musical carousel-gone-awry scene was! I believe at one point during that scene my jaw dropped and stayed dropped for a considerable amount of time.

I am glad that now I can be thrilled, and not emotionally traumatized, by this film. I don't know if I will be able to say the same for The Night of the Hunter (1955), but we'll see.