Sunday, October 3, 2010

Steamboat Bill Jr. (1928) at the Coolidge Corner Theater



Last week I got a chance to see the Buster Keaton classic Steamboat Bill Jr. (1928) on the big screen, at the Coolidge Corner Theater (a pretty amazing Art Deco cinema) with live musical accompaniment by Peter Blanchette. It was a great experience. This was the second of a series called Sounds of Silents that the Coolidge Corner Theater is presenting with the help of several very generous sponsors. They are bringing silent films onto the big screen with live music. How cool is that? Unfortunately, I missed their first event which was the Alloy Orchestra performing with Metropolis (1927).  I really love Metropolis and was very impressed with the Alloy Orchestra when I saw them perform with Phantom of the Opera (1925) on Halloween.






I was not having the best of nights when I went to this. I had gone with a group of friends but I was in a very anti-social mood. After my friends gave me a hard time about seating (I have a weak bladder, I need an aisle seat and they weren't making things easy for me), I escaped for a breather and to go to the bathroom. The lobby was crowded and being in my anti-social mood I wanted to avoid as many people as possible so I tried sneaking into the handicapped bathroom which was away from the lobby. Unfortunately, there was a lovely old couple already occupying the bathroom and I had interrupted an older gentleman helping his wife off the toilet. I was mortified. When I closed the door and I turned around, another man (who may or may not have noticed that I interrupted the couple in said bathroom) saw me and mentioned something about there being other bathrooms downstairs (through the lobby). After a while, I realized that the man who spoke to me was the musician himself. D'oh! Another embarrassment, in a long series of embarrassments and humiliations that had plagued me that day, wasn't making this experience all it could be.

Once the film and the music started, I relaxed a bit. Steamboat Bill, Jr. (1928) is a hilarious film with Buster Keaton at the top of his game. It would be the last film in which Keaton had full creative control. The music was superb, a complex mix of Americana and honky-tonk with everything from electric guitar to mandolin to piano to banjo (this made me think of John & Eberle!). Blanchette mixed recorded music along with live performance (all of the music he performed in one way or another). It was great to watch a silent film in it's original form but accompanied with a whole new and different type of musical style. Before the show started, Blanchette told the audience that when he composes his music for a silent film he thinks about instruments and sounds for each of the characters but he also tries to give the music a unifying theme.

I can't wait to go to future Sounds of Silents and see how other musicians interpret silent films with their music.

If you want to experience Peter Blanchette's musical interpretation of Steamboat Bill, Jr. in your very own home, he's graciously put up some clips on his YouTube channel. Check them out!


Friday, October 1, 2010

Dinner and a Movie: They Died With Their Boots On (1941)


Who cares if it's not historically accurate? It's Errolivia for Pete's Sake. That's box-office gold. ka-ching!

I've been spending some time with Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland recently, better known to some as Errolivia. It was quite by accident that I started by watching their last film together, They Died With Their Boots On (1941). (It just happened to be at the top of my Netflix queue). I'm in the middle of reading Errol & Olivia: Ego & Obsession in Golden Era Hollywood for review here and while I'm learning lots about them, I'm still a virgin to the whole Errolivia experience. It seems like many have already encountered an Errolivia film or two and know about their dynamic. I had never seen any of the Errolivia films but I have been intrigued ever since I caught a clip of Olivia de Havilland talking about Errol Flynn on TCM. Olivia reminisced about the friendship she had with Errol and how she had written him a letter, telling him how much she had appreciated knowing him and working with him. She didn't get around to mailing the letter before Errol Flynn died in 1959.

I don't want to go too much into Errolivia because 1) I'm still new to this, 2) I haven't finished the book and 3) I've only seen one of their movies. I do want to say that their on-screen chemistry, from what I've seen in They Died With Their Boots On, was not electric but sweet and genuine. Even though Errol Flynn was a terrible womanizer, Olivia de Havilland's softness and gentility seemed to balance him out.

They Died With Their Boots On (1941) is a biopic on General Custer. The screenplay is very VERY loosely based on fact. This film really is all about Errolivia, some tight pants, some big dresses, some guns, lots of onions, and Anthony Quinn in Native American dress. And let's not forget the other star of the show. The one that almost steals the spotlight from Errolivia! Sydney Greenstreet lights up the screen whenever he waltzes into a shot. I was particularly enamored by the scene in which Greenstreet, who plays Lieutenant General Winfield Scott, meets George Custer (Errol Flynn) for the first time. It takes place in a restaurant where Custer has just been served a plate of creamed Bermuda onions, a specialty of the house. Lt. Gn. Scott has been seated at the next table. Scott has a big appetite and orders double-rib sirloin, asparagus, potatoes au gratin, spiced pears and of course, his favorite, creamed Bermuda onions. But alas, they are out of creamed Bermuda onions! What's a man to do? Custer takes a stand, he likes to do that sort of thing, and offers up his plate of creamed Bermuda onions to Scott as a way to introduce himself to the Lt. Gn., get on his good side and perhaps use the opportunity to move up in ranks in the army. Custer and Scott have dinner together, bond over work and onions and the rest is movie-generated "history".



I decided to make the meal that Lieutenant General Scott ordered at the restaurant. However, double-rib sirloin would have made the meal a tad expensive, so I replaced it with good ole roasted chicken. And this is what the meal looked like! Chicken, with a generous helping of Green onions (Custer/Flynn LOVED his green onions), roasted asparagus with lemon zest, Potatoes au gratin and spiced pears poached in red wine. I also made a casserole of creamed pearl onions with breadcrumb topping. Carlos and I tried the onions and neither of us were terribly impressed. If we had encountered Sydney Greenstreet, we would have gladly offered him our plates of onions too!

If you'd like to make this entire dinner (or a portion of it), make sure you stop by my food blog, Thoughtful Eating, for the recipes.


Thursday, September 30, 2010

God Speed Tony Curtis (1925-2010)



Oh Tony, you shall be missed. Thank you so much for all of your performances ranging from serious to all-out kooky (more kooky than serious!). I will never forget you donning a skimpy toga in Spartacus (1960), dressing in drag in Some Like it Hot (1959), toting around a big salami in Captain Newman, M.D. (1963), jumping off a pier with Natalie Wood in Sex and the Single Girl (1964) and distracting Audrey Hepburn in Paris, When it Sizzles (1964).

And you know why else I admire you Tony? Because you took on that role of John "Joker" Jackson in The Defiant Ones (1958). You had to be shackled to Sidney Poitier the entire picture. You took on that role when others like Robert Mitchum and Kirk Douglas turned it down because it was either unrealistic to be shackled to a black man in terms of the story (former) or because of personal racial prejudice (latter). Not only that, you insisted that Sidney Poitier take top billing. Kudos to you Mr. Tony Curtis! Kudos to you and God Speed.




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