Happy Birthday, Edward Gorey!

I first got my hands on an Edward Gorey anthology as a little girl, and I devoured it. The black and white imagery of other eras, the humor, and the outrageous outcomes appealed to me. Children like their grim tales, and these were beautifully illustrated. Gorey isn’t just for children. He can be appreciated by adults, too. If you’re unfamiliar with him, but like Lewis Carroll, Edward Lear, or Charles Addams, then you’re likely to enjoy Gorey. As you might suspect of someone so visual, Gorey was a film fanatic. For his eighty-eighth birthday, here’s a peek at some of the films that influenced Gorey.

We’ll start off with silent film. Amy Benfer wrote: “Gorey’s work is formatted very much like an incredibly baroque storyboard for a silent film. Each vignette alternates between panels of painstakingly ornate hand-lettered text and black-and-white illustrations. Like silent film, the juxtaposition of image and text allows us time to consider both, as separate but inseparable parts of the same work.” These silent film techniques came from watching silent films at exclusive screenings and archives.

Amongst the films screened were Louis Feuillade‘s. As someone who knew Gorey’s work first and later watched Les Vampires and Judex, I suspected an influence, and his friend Alexander Theroux wrote about it in his book The Strange Case of Edward Gorey. The fashions, the decors, the visual textures, the faces, the black humor, the surrealism, and the not always pleasant outcomes even for the good of those films are all reflected in Gorey’s work. I used to say that Les Vampires was an Edward Gorey story come to life, but it came first. Gorey put on paper the essence of these films with his own twists.

The Gilded Bat and the animated sequences for Mystery show he mined Feuillade:

We see grand old houses, detectives, mysterious figures in black, people in peril, ballet dancers, upper crust soirées, bat imagery, secret messages decoded by a mirror, criminals afoot (albeit out of frame), and settings full of visual textures–from how they were drawn to prints and fabric contrasting with other decor.

Many of the above images are found in Les Vampires scenes:

Another Gorey film favorite involves the word vampire, Carl Dreyer‘s Vampyr. Gorey said, “You don’t see a thing and I think it’s the most chilling movie I’ve ever seen. I think your own imagination does a better job.” The film is much less plot driven than Les Vampires. Vampyr is more mood-driven. Instead of criminals inflicting chaos, it is supernatural evil that causes harm. The film was almost a silent, and it has more in common with silent film than sound. Since Dreyer had to reshoot dialogue scenes in different languages for international distribution, the dialogue is minimal. The lack of plot, dialogue, and explanation married with odd imagery and sounds brings unease.

Bringing unease was Gorey’s goal. Gorey’s quoted as saying in Ascending Peculiarity, “My mission in life is to make everybody as uneasy as possible. I think we should all be as uneasy as possible, because that’s what the world is like.” A film like Vampyr freed dialogue and images from meaning except what the viewer read into them. Gorey took that lesson and pushed it with the non sequitur filled The Object Lesson.

Despite the non sequiturs, our brains want to establish a plot and resolve what seems like a mystery of never ending detail that can only end badly. There is no meaning to the story, but it establishes a mood through images and text, much like movies can.

Gorey’s reputed to have consumed thousands of movies and books, he shows his influences, yet his work isn’t derivative. He uses film and literary techniques to create his own rendering of the world to reflect the realities he perceived. It’s a world we can step into opening the pages of his books, and he entertains us and makes us laugh, often out of discomfort. That might be the greatest compliment we can pay him.

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Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

For Valentine’s Day, here is one of my favorite romantic scenes from a musical. The film Lovely to Look At, a remake of Roberta, may not be memorable as a whole, but it showcases some imaginative dance sequences featuring Marge and Gower Champion. While they had the unenviable task of replacing Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire, the Champions were gifted with not recreating the earlier pair’s routines. The Champions’ dances were mostly freed from the show within a picture’s stagings. In Lovely to Look at, the big performance to save the fashion house remains, but their other dance scenes show their characters’ flirtations that lead to romance and to them falling in love.

In the above scene, their characters have spent the night accompanying their friends from boîte to boîte. Left alone, they have no distractions. He wants to dance with her one more time, that’s the only way he can hold a girl in his arms in a crowded room and have her all to himself, and she agrees after initially resisting. They have fun, and dance well together, and then the camera moves in for a close-up when they pause in front of a window. When it pulls back, we see the nightclub set has vanished, and only the starry night remains. In multiple long takes, they dance on and among the stars. They’re the only two people in their universe at that moment, and they both hear, feel, and move to the same song. They’re a perfect pairing. Long before they walk off together into the night, we know they have fallen in love. We’ve watched it happen.

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Feeling burdened by your daily drudgeries?

 
My Best Girl Pickford Pot & Pans
 
Always hanging out doing the same old thing?
 
c. 1920s: Actor Buster Keaton Dressed as a Scarecrow
 
Dreaming of doing something new?
 
Snow White 1916 MC Sleeping
 
Fear being led astray?
 
Faust Being Led
 
Get yourself down to the Castro Theatre!
 
Thief of Bagdad Carpet Ride
 
For a feast of films at the Silent Winter Event.
 
My Best Girl Dining
 
And for a royally good time!
 
Snow White Queen
 
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Happy New Year–Especially for Fans of Clara Bow!

Clara Bow Calligraphic New Year

Happy New Year’s wishes go to readers of Spellbound! I suspect quite a few of you brought in the New Year by celebrating with cinematic treats. I did. Hubby and I brought in the New Year watching a pair of Deanna Durbin movies at the Stanford Theatre. We started with the 7:30 PM screening, which meant we got a Wurlitzer concert before and after our first film performed by Jerry Nagano. He put together a playlist full of romantic tunes, including What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve? The whole audience could have answered, “Watching movies!”

That’s something the spellbound will have great opportunities for in the coming year. It promises to be a great one for revival and restoration screenings. Our calligraphic cutie Clara Bow kicks off the New Year with screenings that would tempt anyone to travel to catch her motion pictures. She’s featured in a series starting this week at the UCLA Film & Television Archive, Call Her Savage: Clara Bow Hits the Screen. The series runs January 4, 2013 through February 10, 2013 in the Billy Wilder Theater, and it’s co-sponsored by the Hugh M. Hefner Classic American Film Program.

Clara Bow & Antonio Moreno in It

With Antonio Moreno in It

“Clara Bow Hits the Screen” is a great secondary title. She remains a charismatic and entertaining actress for all who are lucky or smart enough to watch one of her films today. Her impact on the audiences of yesteryear can’t be underestimated either. In her prime, she was the number one box office star in Hollywood beloved by both men and women and drawing them out to her movies, even when the scripts were weak. Her persona managed to fuse the flapper and her modern mores to a non-threatening likability normally demonstrated by the girl next door type. Of course, there were probably many who wished she was the girl next door–even today!

In Call Her Savage

In Call Her Savage

The series launches this Friday with Call Her Savage (1932) and Hoop-La (1933). These racy Pre-Codes come from near the end of her career and taunt us with her talkie potential, and their outlandish plots have to be seen to be believed. An extra bonus: The biographer of her definitive biography, Clara Bow: Runnin’ Wild, David Stenn will be on hand to put her in context and discuss her life and career on January 4.

The Wild Party, a Collegiate Comedy

The Wild Party, a Collegiate Comedy

The subsequent screenings feature: Parisian Love (1925) and Capital Punishment (1925) on January 5, It (1927) and Children of Divorce (1927) on January 11, Wings (1927) on January 19, The Wild Party (1929) and a clip show of film fragments on February 8, and Kick-In (1931) and Her Wedding Night (1930) on February 10.

Clara Bow & Ralph Forbes in Her Wedding Night, still from the Clara Bow Archive

With Ralph Forbes in Her Wedding Night, still from the Clara Bow Archive

Wings, It, and The Wild Party promise to be crowd-pleasers. The clip show should be of particular interest to Bow buffs and “includes trailers from lost feature films, newsreels, recently discovered Technicolor outtakes, and Bow singing ‘True to the Navy‘ in the 1930 all-star revue Paramount on Parade.” Kick-In offers historical curiosity since it was her first film after the infamous Daisy DeVoe trial, which was damaging to Bow’s reputation at the time. It’s a testament to Bow that more people today ask Daisy Who?


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A Movie Manifesta

Spellbound by Movies is a passion project. I fell in love with movies at a young age. As an only child I might have been more susceptible to their lure. I was making up my own stories already, and I grew up in a place rich with history, which meant listening to others’ stories. Seeing a movie on the big screen or on TV, I was able to suspend my disbelief and let the magic of the movies wash over me.

Millicent Library Fairhaven Mass

In a lot of ways, I feel lucky to have grown up when I did. My family are moviegoers, and they took me when I was too little to take myself or make my own film choices. My maternal grandfather loved country music, and he used to make up stories of knowing cowboys like John Wayne or belles like Mae West. I knew his stories were fabrications, but they were fun nonetheless.

John Wayne Portrait

Weekend TV was full of classic comedies like Laurel and Hardy and Abbott and Costello as well as creature and horror features from Universal and other studios. Black and white was simply another viewing option, not an impediment to enjoyment. Some of the comedies were talkies and some were silent save for their musical score. All were funny.

Laurel and Hardy Sssh

We got cable when I was in elementary school, and my options of movie choices expanded. Perhaps M was a little intense for an elementary school-aged child to watch by herself, it was disturbing, but I was blown away by how powerful a movie it was and how a balloon floating away could say so much about another child’s fate. Channels like AMC and later TCM gave me greater exposure to film classics.

M Balloon Floating Away

Then the home video explosion occurred and became affordable, and I could watch anything available to rent on VHS from the teen favorites of those who a little older than I was to horror, foreign, art house and more. I was old enough not to drive yet, but I could rent my own movies. I kept watching as VHS shifted to DVDs and as my friends and I got old enough to drive ourselves.

Colleen Moore Electric Car Synthetic Sin

When I started taking film classes at my university, I came to some realizations. I had a very good memory for films and their details compared to my peers. I could recall scenes in detail they couldn’t, and I had aural abilities that allowed me to recognize pieces of music quickly, like soundtrack music. I had a facility for talking about film that improved under instruction. I also developed a greater appreciation for silent film inspired by a classroom screening of The Wind.

Lillian Gish at Door The Wind

When I left school, I graduated with a renewed love of film. It later showed itself in the silent film nights I organized at Flywheel, where I served as a member of the arts collective for several years. It shows itself in my reading choices and book collection and in the art I have on my walls. It shows in my movie logging on Twitter, where I often record watching out-of-print movies on VHS secured by interlibrary loan by my husband, also a movie lover.

Musidora as Irma Vep Stows Away Medium

Even though I may offer more criticism of the medium now, it’s done with love and enthusiasm, never cynicism or nihilism. My goals are to discuss the medium and to connect with others. If anything more comes from the blog, fantastic! If not, it’s time well spent. Who wouldn’t want to be spellbound at least once in a while?

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Happy Birthday to–Lillian Gish!

Lillian Gish Portrait

Lillian Gish was born today in 1893, and in honor of her birthday, I went searching for something new to learn about her. I found it thanks to the Internet Archive. In its files it has the San Francisco Cinematheque‘s 1985 program, which includes a personal remembrance of Gish by film historian Kevin Brownlow.

He recounts his encounter with Gish when she appeared at a Thames Silents film program in 1984. My favorite bit involves the question and answer portion of a lecture she gave at a packed National Film Theatre, where according to Brownlow “she delighted the audience with her enthusiastic recall and her humor.”

During this, Gish got asked a typical question:

“Is there any part you wished you’d played?” asked a member of the audience.

Her response may be surprising as atypical to some:

“A vamp,” she replied. “Oh, I’d love to have played a vamp. Seventy-five percent of your work is done for you. When you play those innocent little virgins, that’s when you have to work hard. They’re all right for five minutes, but after that you have to work to hold the interest. I always called them ‘ga-ga babies.’ “

So Gish longed to have played the bad girl at least once! She wanted the fun of that role. No matter how much she proclaimed the role as easy, I’m sure she would have put her usual amount of effort in. As Brownlow noted, “Griffith had imbued his players with the discipline and dedication of the nineteenth-century theater, and Lillian Gish carried these qualities to unprecedented lengths.”


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Elsa Lanchester as Queenie in Bell, Book and Candle

What A Character Blogathon 2012 Badge

This post is part of the What A Character! Blogathon. It runs September 22 through 24. It celebrates the character actors who helped make classic film as great as it was.

Bell Book and Candle Title Screenshot

One of my favorite movies to watch at Christmas-time is Bell, Book and Candle. Growing up, I’d often watch it with my family as we trimmed our tree. It starts off at Christmas time, so that’s how a film about New York City witches and romance came to be associated with the holiday for me. I would have watched it anyway and at other times, and I did. Like many little girls I was impressed by the image and intensity that Kim Novak brought to her role of Gillian Holroyd. Here was an antidote to suburban life. She had a Jean Louis wardrobe to die for. She dressed in mostly knits or velvet in rich or dark jewel tones with a lot of black thrown in. She had a talkative cat as her best friend. She could live and do what she wanted, and she could cast spells. She was anything but boring at first. Repeated viewings of the film made me appreciate another character—that of Elsa Lanchester’s Aunt Queenie—and the actress that played her.

Elsa Lanchester as The Bride of Frankenstein

Many best remember Elsa Lanchester for her performance in The Bride of Frankenstein. Despite playing the titular role, she filled a supporting part. Even counting the sometimes cut from the print dual role of Mary Shelley, she had far less screen time than any of the leads, and her bride only appeared at film’s end. She was friends with the director James Whale, another British expatriate who cast her in the role. When Lanchester was younger and skinnier, she seemed a little more exotic than eccentric, and the role makes good use of that, but she made better use of the role. Her body language doesn’t seem human. Her head-twisting is bird-like, and her unnatural scream at the sight of Frankenstein’s monster is deeply disturbing. Lanchester’s long experience as an actress and a dancer was another element at Whale’s disposal to make his superior sequel. Lanchester made her bride more than her now iconic hairstyle, and a lesser actress couldn’t have succeeded under so much “look.”

Charles Laughton & Elsa Lanchester

Elsa Lanchester had both the blessing and misfortune to be married to another actor, Charles Laughton. Both were talented, but Laughton was the more marketable and employed one. People tend to say he was a success despite his lack of leading man looks, but I’d argue that his looks complemented that types of roles he excelled at, ones usually calling for big personalities and employment of actorly tics, but he could be more subtle under the right direction. Before their marriage, Laughton was cast in three silent films starring Lanchester expressly written for her by H.G. Wells. After their marriage, he often would get her cast in his latest production. Sometimes she would appear in featured role, but at other times it was more of a bit part. Not counting their stage roles, they appeared in over a dozen movies together. Via a photographic cameo, he even intruded into her only billed lead, Passport to Destiny.

Charles Laughton & I book cover

She outlived her husband, but their much speculated upon marriage and its effect on her career appeared to have a lasting effect on her. She wrote two memoirs, Charles Laughton and I and Elsa Lanchester, Herself, but both focused more on her husband, his career, and their relationship than her career. The first was published when he was alive, and the second was published after his death and not too long before hers. Maybe she was giving the public what she knew they wanted, or maybe she had a hard time distinguishing herself as an individual after a while? Both books are out-of-print, and it may be telling that his biography sells for a much steeper price as a collectible than hers.

Edith Lanchester

Edith Lanchester

Before it segues into their marriage, her memoir details her hard childhood. Her mother Edith Lanchester fled her bourgeois life to cohabit with working-class socialist James Sullivan. Her family responded by kidnapping and institutionalizing her, but political pressure led to her release. Edith was the more extreme of the pair. She forced her children into a life of poverty and trying to live off the radar. Elsa learned how to evade landlords, bailiffs, and the census man before she learned some other childhood skills. She wore shabby handmade clothes. She wasn’t allowed meat, even though her father ate the cheap garbage cuts, because her mother was a vegetarian. Going to school was an adjustment for her, but her mother was supportive of Lanchester learning and managed to get her arts and dance lessons. She began to work as a child to earn money for her family and her independence. In some ways it looked like she escaped one strong personality only to be grabbed into the orbit of another, but she seemed to like her mother much less than she loved her husband.

Elsa Lanchester as Amelia Potts

One of the ironies of Lanchester’s career is that for a woman so famous for being married in real life to Laughton and in reel life to Frankenstein’s monster, she ended up playing many spinsters, some of them painters (Come to the Stable), nurses (Witness for the Prosecution), servants (The Spiral Staircase, Mary Poppins, Les Misérables, The Bishop’s Wife), social secretaries (The Razor’s Edge), mad sisters (Ladies in Retirement), aunts (Bell, Book and Candle), and even a bearded lady (3 Ring Circus). She did play some wives and widows as well, and not all of them were married to her husband’s screen characters (Lassie Come Home), but a good deal were (The Private Life of Henry the VIII, Passport to Destiny). Out of her many roles, she received two Academy Award nominations for Best Supporting Actress—in 1949 as the religious painter in Come to the Stable and in 1957 as barrister Sir Wilfrid Robarts frustrated nurse in Witness for the Prosecution. Neither were the showy type of supporting roles that normally win the supporting Oscar, and she lost to Mercedes McCambridge in All The King’s Men and Miyoshi Umeki for Sayanora respectively.

Elsa Lanchester's Mask

In Bell, Book and Candle, she plays one of her aunt roles. The opening credits give us a hint of what type. Each actor in the film has their name shown next to an African mask or sculpture. When Lanchester’s name appears next to a mask with a beard, the soundtrack briefly shifts from melody to a funny-sounding cacophony. Her role is full of all the disorder that implies; she plays a comedic part. Queenie Holroyd is aunt to Gillian and Nicky Holroyd (Jack Lemmon). They come from an old Massachusetts family, which might be a hint at Salem origins. All three live in New York City. Queenie lives in an upstairs apartment in Gillian’s building. Gillian lives in the ground floor combination flat and shop. We would imagine that Aunt Queenie looks after her niece and nephew, but really Gillian looks after the other two. She’s the most responsible one.

Queenie Behind Desk

We’re introduced to Queenie right away. Jimmy Stewart’s Shep Henderson has returned home to his apartment in the Holroyd building. He unlocks and opens his door to discover Queenie behind his desk. She tries to act as though everything is normal, and she claims she was being helpful. He had left his window open, so she shut it to prevent the snow from coming in and ruining his belongings. He doesn’t understand why his door was locked then, and she offers no explanation. He assumes she is studying dramatics, and he asks her what she is reciting at night. She’s most relieved when he can’t understand what she has been saying. After she lets it slip she not only tidied his desk, but also read his correspondence, he kicks her out for some “personal telephoning.” She tells him her version of an insult, “Before you moved in here, a theosophist lived here, and he was very pleasant.” Before she leaves, she stares at his phone and thinks an incantation. His phone then makes otherworldly sounds.

Shep's Goblin Phone

His phone problem forces him to go downstairs and ask to use Gillian’s phone. She’s pleased she gets to speak to him. She’s been fancying him through her windows. Queenie intrudes again. This time to beg Gillian to accompany her to a nightclub called the Zodiac. She talks it up and enlists Shep to persuade Gillian to go. She also confesses to both that she’s “afraid he thinks I’ve been naughty.” Before long Gillian deduces that Queenie fixed his phone. Once Shep leaves, Gillian angrily reminds Queenie of her promise to be careful. Queenie claims no harm was done, all she did was read his letters. She then claims not to make use of them, but in the next breath tells an interested Gillian he’s about to be married. She’s too ethical to pursue another woman’s man.

Too Bad He's Getting Married

Through all of this, we see that Queenie loves being a witch. She takes advantage of her powers to snoop and play pranks and to gossip. Even though she’s older than Gillian, she’s child-like and impulsive. She’s never quite grown up, and her amusements make her giggle to herself like a little girl. One of those amusements is hiding in plain sight. When she talks about how unsuspecting and unimaginative humans are, she says, “I sit in the subways sometimes, on buses, or in the movies, and I look at the people next to me, and I think what would you say if I told you I was a witch?” She laughs and continues, “And I know they would never believe it.” All this makes Queenie a wildcard, and Gillian makes her vow not to do any more magic in the home, lest they get discovered.

Queenie & Bianca de Passe

We next see Queenie at the Zodiac. Drink in hand, she flits from table to table and then pauses at that of Bianca de Passe (Hermione Gingold). Like Queenie, Bianca is another redheaded witch. She’s not the least child-like. She has a crazy mop of what’s either hennaed hair or a wig, and she’s dressed the part of a grande dame in all her scenes. She tends to wear lace, velvet, bold prints, and statement jewelry. Her garb is less modern looking than Queenie’s and very aging compared to Gillians’. She’s friendly to Queenie, who’s not perceived as a rival, but Bianca dislikes Gillian, who’s a stronger, less hammy in performance witch. Unlike either Holroyd female, Bianca attempts to profit from the craft which gets her labeled as mail order sorceress by Gillian.

Moping Gillian

Queenie returns to her table and finds a moping Gillian. She wants to cheer her niece up, and she cannot understand why Gillian would like to be in a church on Christmas Eve hearing carols for once instead of bongo drums in a nightclub. They’re interrupted when Queenie discovers her hyping up the nightclub has led to Shep bringing his date to the club. She’s snobby and laughs that one of the other patrons would never be spotted at El Morocco. Before they make it to the Holroyd table, Queenie says the woman must be the fiancée because Queenie saw the woman’s snapshot in his desk. Gillian is astonished to recognize the redhead. She’s Merle Kittridge (Janice Rule), an old rival from Wellesley College that reported Gillian to the dean for not wearing shoes.

Merle Freaking Out

After the woman insults Nicky, who’s playing with the band onstage, without know he’s Gillian’s brother, Gillian admits that “all the Holroyds are a little sinister.” Maybe that’s what having access to magic can do to someone, the power is easy to access, abuse, and become addicted to. Gillian in anger and maybe jealousy brings up Merle’s quirk of being afraid of thunderstorms. She talks about all the awful storms that happened during one of their terms. During this, she’s signaled Nicky to switch to stormy weather. They play an uptempo version with horns blaring, and the band surrounds the table as the lights happen to flicker mimicking lightning. It’s too much for Merle who gets up to leave and flees after Nicky screams. Queenie is delighted and cackles.

Queenie Cackles

So now we have three redheaded woman who all contrast each other–impulsive and magic-abusing Queenie, the charlatan-like Bianca, and the very human, but witchy in personality Merle. They represent paths that Gillian could take. Does she continue to live differently and selfishly, try to profit from her craft professionally, or does she not use magic, but settle an old score out of revenge? Two out of the three are spinsters that live alone, and the third uses feminine tricks to get her man.

Oh, Nicky!

During the following street scene when the Holroyd’s walk home, Gillian explains her history with Merle, while Nicky demonstrates his new trick of turning off streetlights. Queenie thinks him clever, while Gillian thinks him juvenile and asks him if he will ever grow up. Gillian is considering whether to compete with Merle on a fair playing ground and not use her powers to get him. Queenie becomes scared that Gillian has fallen in love with him and lost her powers, but Gillian says that’s an old wives’ tale, and it’s the other way around. They can’t fall in love. Queenie’s served another one of her purposes of saying expository dialogue that will become important later on.

Queenie & Her Present

After the reach Gillian’s apartment, they go inside to exchange Christmas presents. They discuss why previous witches were never rich if they had powers. Queenie says that they weren’t any good at it any more” they are. “We can turn out street lights, but we can’t make anything turn to gold.” Nicky believes Gil could because she’s the most powerful of them, but she’s afraid of the repercussions. They then exchange presents. Nicky gets records from Gillian, but he hasn’t a phonograph. He’s sold his. Gillian says he’ll find one at home. When he wants to know if she bought it or conjured it, Queenie hushes him for being rude. When Queenie opens her present, and finds a beautiful, black, lace scarf, she says, “This is delightful. What does it do?” She can’t conceive of an object not having a magical purpose, so when Gillian replies it makes Queenie look fascinating, she momentarily believes it has glamouring powers. She’s confused when Gillian tells her it has no powers, that she thought it was pretty. Queenie agrees, “It is. It’s very pretty. I love it.” Again magic is thought of as getting or supplying something.

Summoning

Nicky has the bad taste to regift a magic potion that failed to work for him and to admit it to Gillian. She gets it to work to her family’s delight, and it puts on a strange light show. She uses the potion to summon the author Sidney Redlitch (Ernie Kovacs) that Shep wants to sign. First it brings Shep, who’s convinced her place is on fire. Queenie rushes Nicky out with her to Gillian and Shep time alone. Gillian then tries embarrassing lines that a woman as beautiful as she shouldn’t have to utter. She’s so used to making magic her shortcut to get what she wants that she’s failing in her seduction of him. When she hears Merle has moved up their wedding date to that day, perhaps out of nervousness to Gillian’s close proximity to him, she becomes desperate and grabs Pyewacket. She uses her familiar to cast a spell over Shep. She resorts to magic to get what she wants despite telling her family they are better than that. She’s backslid.

Queenie, Nicky, & Gillian Listening

When we next see Queenie, she’s seated on the sofa with her family, and all three are looking very uncomfortable. Gillian’s summoning spell worked, and she made Sidney Redlitch go to Shep, and he in turn has brought the author into Gillian’s home. She doesn’t like him saying he’s going to write a book about the witches of Manhattan, and he knows just enough to maybe make this book more realistic than his previous one. Redlitch claims to be able to recognize witches, yet he has no sense that three are in the room with him at that very moment. He happens to mention the Zodiac as a witch hang-out, and then he mentions how cats are used as familiars when he sees Pyewacket. Queenie departs, lying that she forgot something on the stove. Gillian doesn’t want their family secret uncovered. She sets Nicky the task of throwing Redlitch off their trail, but Nicky hopes to cash in on his heritage and partners with Redlitch on his book.

Gillian Confesses to Shep

Later Shep proposes, but Gillian doesn’t want to change her lifestyle. She says she’s “lived for and by the special, not the ordinary.” Shep can’t understand her refusal to accept his proposal and commit. Suddenly she changes her mind and accepts. She’s chosen her path to be different from what she knows, even if that difference is being ordinary. The trouble is she’s used magic to get revenge on Merle like Queenie wanted; she’s profiting from it like Bianca by getting married; and she’s dishonestly snagging a man like Merle. Gillian’s too honest to let Shep marry her without knowing who she is and what she did. She goes to his office and confesses she’s a witch who has put him under her spell. Shep won’t believe her, and he brushes off her incidents of proof as the fantastical imaginings of her female mind. In this scene, Gillian appears her most stereotypically “witchy.” She’s dressed all in black and even wears a cowl over her head. While she’s baring all verbally, she’s the most covered we’ve seen her indoors.

Shep Trying to Get Queenie to Do Magic

Queenie bumps into Shep soon after. She’s thrilled. She cannot believe that Gillian is getting married to an outsider to whom she’s revealed herself. She exclaims that is unprecedented. She tells Shep to call her Auntie now. Shep’s confused. Gillian didn’t reveal that her family are witches to him, only that she is. He asks Queenie if she believes herself to be one, too. She tries to prove it by replying how else could she get into his locked apartment. He tries to get her to unlock the front door, but she refuses saying she took the oath for Gillian, who’s the gifted one in the family. Strangely Shep isn’t too bothered until Queenie accidentally reveals that Merle and Gillian had a history and that Gillian swiped him out of revenge. When he hears his first attempted marriage was precluded because Gillian only liked him, that’s when he becomes angry. Queenie worsens it by saying that liking someone is a big deal for them, that and hot blood are allowed, but not love. Queenie’s talking leads to a fight between Shep and Gillian that causes them to break-up, once he’s used Bianca to break the love spell.

Gillian & Queenie Staring at Tears

When he visits Gillian for a final insult, she get angry and threatens revenge, but she can’t find Pyewacket to cast a spell against Merle. Shep flees to check on Merle. Meanwhile Queenie finds the cat. He was on the roof, so she brings him back to Gillian. He flees from her and climbs up the statues on the wall. She gets him down, but he leaps away from her and runs out his cat door into the city streets. Gillian is crying, and when she returns home. Queenie stares at her in amazement. There are “tears, real tears.” She picks one up on her finger and stares at it as Gillian collapses crying in front of a mirror. She’s done something else Queenie has never been able to do, fall in love. She wants to know, “What is it like, Gillian? I’ve never has it. Is it wonderful?” Gillian feels awful.

Queenie Worrying

The following scene takes place in the Zodiac, where Queenie and Nicky are hanging out. Queenie has her head in her hands and looks down. When she says that Gillian has looked so sad the last couple of months, we know time has passed. Pyewacket won’t go back to her, and Gillian won’t go out. She tries to plot how to help Gillian, but Nicky can’t understand that Gillian’s in love. He wonders if she wouldn’t “rather be dead?” Queenie has been forbidden to tell Shep what has happened, but she thinks aloud that “nature might take its course” if the two of them are in a room together. When we see Pyewacket enter Shep’s office in the very next scene we know Queenie decided to meddle, only without using magic. She sent the cat to bring back the man.

Queenie & Nicky Watching Shep & Gillian

When Shep arrives at Gillian’s, we see her shop is now called Flowers of the Sea. She sells seashells and arrangements that look like floral displays, but are crafted with seashells and other natural materials. Gillian is wearing a white dress. It’s the first time we’ve seen her dressed in that color. She admits that Pyewacket is not her cat anymore, and she apologizes for Queenie’s meddling. It doesn’t take Shep long to notice that Gillian is changed and that she’s lost her powers, which only happens for one reason. Nature does take its course as Queenie and Nicky watch through the window. Queenie looks delighted to have made her niece happy, and she looks a little wistful. Nicky makes a disgusted expression. The two of them head off into the night, and Nicky shuts off the streetlights they pass, including the one that Pyewacket, mission accomplished, sits upon.

Pyewacket on Street Lamp


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Accents & Sally’s Diction Lessons from Radio Days (1987)

My husband told me he heard a young actress being interviewed who pronounces her Gs the same why I do. More specifically, she uses a hard G when saying words ending in -ing. That means walking would be pronounced as walk-ing-guh. The last syllable is more of a half-syllable and softer in the throat than that looks in print. I was disappointed he could not remember which actress. I wonder if she’s simply using a more theatrical pronunciation so her G isn’t lost like some people used to assume I did?

My pronunciation is a remnant of my former regional/ethnic accent that was mostly smoothed out by my childhood speech therapist. She helped me erase more than my lisp. Now when people hear I’m from Massachusetts, they remark I don’t sound like I’m from there, but they’re thinking of the Boston accent, not the Southeastern Massachusetts one I had. Massachusetts has regional and micro-regional accents. Mine pops out when I’m very tired or sometimes when speaking with my parents.

This all makes me think of scenes from one of my favorite movies, Woody Allen‘s Radio Days. In this love letter to Old Time Radio, Mia Farrow plays Sally White, a cigarette girl aiming for radio stardom, but first she must rid herself of her Bronx accent.

Farrow is winningly adorable as Sally. She makes us laugh at Sally’s efforts without losing our sympathy. Sally is the kind of role Judy Holliday excelled at and got typecast in–the cute cookie determined to improve herself or her lot in life. Farrow is a worthy successor in playing this type when playing against her type, and she masters two accents not normally her own–the Bronx and the Hollywood Patrician.


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Elsa Lanchester, What A Character!

What A Character Blogathon 2012 Badge

This month I’m participating in the What A Character! Blogathon. Organized by Paula of Paula’s Cinema Club, Kellee of Outspoken & Freckled, and Aurora of Once Upon a Screen, the blogathon celebrates those character actors and actresses whose impact on classic film warrants as much attention and discussion as any star’s. My subject is Elsa Lanchester, best remembered today as the Bride of Frankenstein, despite a career that spanned over fifty years in film, cabaret, theatre, and television.

I ordered her out-of-print memoir, Elsa Lanchester Herself, to prepare:

Elsa Lanchester Herself Cover

I managed to score online a first edition in near fine condition with a dust jacket in similar condition and protected by a Brodart cover for a reasonable price. That was hard to do. There were a lot of ex-library and beat up copies flooding the online marketplace. That helps prove that at one time there was greater general interest in Elsa Lanchester.

I love the art deco design which extends to the decorations bookending each chapter number:

Elsa Lanchester Herself Chapter Number Art

While they appear to be peacock feathers, they manager to evoke the angle of the Bride’s very distinctive hairstyle. That must have been intentional!

And here is a sneak peak of Lanchester and her many characters:

The Many Faces of Elsa Lanchester


UPDATE: My contribution to the blogathon is now up! Click here to learn more about the talented Elsa Lanchester and her portrayal of Queenie in Bell, Book and Candle.


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Back from the Rodeo & Will Rogers’ The Ropin’ Fool

Yesterday I went to my first rodeo at the Stanislaus County Fair. Keeping today’s post in a cowboy theme, here’s an excerpt of Will RogersThe Ropin’ Fool.

This novelty, silent short from 1922 was written and produced by Rogers and directed by Clarence G. Badger. There is a slight plot that provides the frame for Rogers’ roping tricks. It’s when those tricks supersede the plot, that the film takes us to a delightfully surreal place. That’s when his character “Ropes” Reilly shows off his talents in the town square. Rogers looks joyful as he slings his rope around and performs the types of tricks that made him famous at the Follies.

His ropes painted white show up well against his dark horse Dopey, but it’s a cinematic convention that makes those roping scenes amazing–slow-motion photography. We get to see all the details of the tricks that go by too quickly for our eyes normally, and their slowed down speed not only gives us a greater appreciation of how difficult these tricks were, but also makes these moments have a mesmerizing dreamlike quality.

The above clips comes from a video promoting Reelclassicdvd.Com’s edition featuring a musical score by Ben Model. If you’d like to see some more scenes minus any plot, but full of roping Turner Classic Movies has an excerpt of outtakes with narration.


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