Double Vision: Passion, Fashion, and The September Issue
“September is the January in fashion.” Candy Pratts Price, Executive Fashion Director, Vogue Magazine.
R. J. Cutler’s 2009 documentary, The September Issue, a look at the arduous process of compiling Vogue magazine’s biggest edition of the year, was initially promoted as a profile of its Editor In Chief, Anna Wintour (left), but ended up shedding more light on Creative Director, Grace Coddington, resulting in her becoming the film’s most fascinating star.
Coddington’s free-spirited, yet focused passion versus Wintour’s structured, and equally focused, determination made for a compelling dichotomy. Even their hairstyles and overall fashion sense speak volumes: Wintour dons her signature bob, classic and conservative, a strand rarely out of place, while Coddington (below) rocks thick, flowing, rock-star-style red hair. Ironically, Wintour, often stern, tends to exude personality through attire that embraces prints and color, while Coddington, like the cool bohemian aunt in your family, is frequently draped in black, almost choosing to pull focus from what’s on her person to what’s on her pages.
Coddington fights to get her work into the magazine, but it repeatedly gets put to the side, as Wintour edits, then ultimately decides what fashion spreads will make it into the issue. As Coddington senses her spreads are on the chopping block, she can’t hide the defeat on her face, as she sits at her desk. She updates the documentary crew about her spreads’ seemingly limited lifespan: “They took two more out and there’s question marks on two more, so it’s been whittled down… and I’m furious,” she calmly discloses. After a somber pause, she reveals with a brief nervous chuckle: “And it’s very hard to go on to the next thing.”
Later, a trip to Paris reignites the inner fire that looked to be extinguished. In a film full of flash and fashion, and pretty pictures, it’s this section that shows the inner beauty, particularly as Coddington overlooks the gardens at Versailles, an inspiring perspective emerges: “You have to go charging ahead, you can’t stay behind.”
And isn’t that what fashion, and life, is all about. The September Issue is a glimpse into the glamour, but more so it’s in-depth insight into the relentless passion it takes to create, and the frustration that can happen along the (run)way.
The September Issue cinematographer: Robert Richman.
Gotta Have Fate
The Netflix documentary, Wham! is as much about destiny, as it is about one of the biggest pop acts of the 1980s and its global impact over a mere five years. The story of how Georgios “George Michael” Panayiotou and Andrew Ridgeley became the legendary pop group is told mostly through archival footage and audio soundbites.
Meeting at school as pre-teens, Andrew and Yog, Andrew’s nickname for Georgios, became friends with a mutual interest in music. By their late-teens, the pair began writing catchy tunes laced with social commentary, plus ones that embraced the frivolity of youth culture (“Club Tropicana”), as well as others that appeared on their 1983 debut album, Fantastic. “Wham Rap! (Enjoy What You Do),” “Bad Boys” and “Young Guns (Go For It),” positioned Yog, professionally known as George Michael, as the rebellious protagonist, hell- (or heck-) bent on avoiding the 9 to 5 and “death by matrimony,” and set on saving Andrew Ridgeley’s character from a “straight-laced” life (one without George). Besides the (not-so) underlying homoerotic subtext, gay subculture iconography played heavily: leather jackets; tight jeans; aviator glasses—a look that solo George would don again for the Faith era. The musical and visual appeal of Wham! was far-reaching.
Co-crafting the sax-drenched power ballad, “Careless Whisper,” continuing into the Make It Big album (“Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go”; “Everything She Wants”; “Freedom”) and their final, Music from the Edge of Heaven (“Last Christmas”; “I’m Your Man”; “Where Did Your Heart Go?”), both traveled down the same creative pop-music path, only for them to hit the proverbial fork in the road, with personal goals and professional roles shifting as they achieved international success. Watching the documentary through the lens of loss, and letting go in life, adds further emotional resonance to what is essentially a story of unconditional love between friends, with one who must selflessly accept what is, so the other can become who he was destined to be.
Go-go watch it if you haven’t.
Platinum Portrayal: Ana de Armas’ Golden Performance in Blonde
Disclaimer: Please note that this article about the film, Blonde, features content related to mental and emotional trauma, and other similar themes, that may be triggering for some. Reader discretion is advised.
While many reviews of Andrew Dominik’s Blonde, the 2022 film based on Joyce Carol Oates’ historical fiction novel of the same name, were rather scathing, it’s Ana de Armas’ portrayals of Norma Jeane Mortenson and Marilyn Monroe that serve as the main reason to muster up the courage to try and commit to watching the often disturbing and disjointed three-hour film.
Oddly enough, through no fault of her own, it’s de Armas’ performance that’s representative of how disjointed the film really is: simply put, she’s far better than the material that surrounds her. Here are at least five scenes from Blonde where de Armas goes from good to great, displaying a wholehearted commitment to portraying a fictional incarnation of a famous figure, as well as the daunting, almost insurmountable, challenge of playing the most famous female icon in Hollywood history.
5. Calling the Shots: After talking to her agent by phone about the glaring salary inequity between her and a much-higher-paid Jane Russell for 1953’s Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, Norma Jeane calmly questions: “And I’m playing the blonde, in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes? That’s an insult.” She remains polite, even announcing: “I’m gonna hang up now,” but a second later her agent calls her Marilyn, to which Norma Jeane angrily replies: “F*** Marilyn, she’s not here!” and slams down the receiver. de Armas gives Norma Jeane a look of stunned disbelief at what has transpired, but soon proudly smiles at her newfound confidence.
4. Pink Diamonds: de Armas is Monroe’s Lorelei Lee doppelgänger in Blonde’s recreation of the classic “Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend” musical number from Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. With only two days to learn the choreography, de Armas captured Monroe’s hand gestures, shoulder shrugs and slinky movements on the narrow staircase. de Armas did 21 takes, with Dominik using the 21st in the final film.
3. Audition Ambition: In the scene where a nervous Norma Jeane auditions for the role of Nell for 1952’s Don’t Bother to Knock, it’s her opportunity to show the (uninterested) male powers that be how connected she is to the character, to the material and to what it represents. Norma Jeane delivers a solid audition (complete with de Armas dropping a single tear down her left cheek), but still asks to do the reading again. de Armas conveys Norma Jeane’s longing for connection, to be heard, not just seen.
2. A Method to the Sadness: At an acting workshop, an in-depth, Method-style exercise eventually sends Norma Jeane down to the floor in hysterics. As a disheveled Norma Jeane tries to regain her composure, as if she’s been jolted awake from a nightmare, the teacher asks: “What were you thinking of?” To which she replies: “I wasn’t thinking.” She quickly tries to gather her thoughts: “Um, maybe… I was remembering?” This is one of de Armas’ strongest scenes, for its display of raw emotion offset soon thereafter by a subtle, shy smile and a loud sniffle during Norma Jeane’s responses, showing just how committed Norma Jeane was to exploring her acting craft, even after an intense reaction.
1. Mother and Child Reunion: Early in the film, a seven-year-old Norma Jeane is living in Los Angeles with her mentally and emotionally unstable mother, Gladys. After surviving in a volatile, violent environment, Norma Jeane is placed in an orphanage, while her mother is eventually institutionalized. One of de Armas’ most gut-wrenching scenes occurs when Norma Jeane sees her mother for the first time in well over 10 years. de Armas’ reaction is visceral, capturing the sadness of separation, followed by her scanning her mother’s face in confusion. Despite their deeply dysfunctional history, it’s simply a child wanting her mother.
In an interview with the SAG-AFTRA Foundation, de Armas’ theorized as to the nature of this complicated relationship: “She really wants to fix Mother. The absent father figure is a problem, but I feel like Mother is the real problem, and what she feels like she has to fix… She thought, if I can find my dad and he comes back, then my mom is gonna be okay, but because I can’t find him, if I’m very, very famous, he can find me. But really it was the mother, you can see that she is trying to fix that, to build that relationship, and it’s obviously… no reaction there, there’s nothing, there’s no feedback, they don’t recognize each other.”
Honorable Mentions: de Armas has other remarkable moments in the film. For instance: The recreation of “I Wanna Be Loved By You” from 1959’s Some Like It Hot. Norma Jeane is on set in Monroe mode, playfully and seductively lip-syncing to the track, but quickly de Armas’ face switches to reveal a devastatingly deflated Norma Jeane, who stops mid-scene, and puts her head in her hands, only to then erupt ferociously in anger over the alleged demeaning on-set gossip about her. In seconds, de Armas’ range runs the spectrum from physical embodiment to mentally distracted to emotionally enraged.
Also, Norma Jeane’s meeting with “The Playwright,” is a rare occasion that we see her calm and self-assured. She’s clearly smitten with the intellectual across the table, and she beams at the professional and personal possibilities. Their flirtatious exchange of the greeting, “Hey, you” is one of the film’s sweet, all-too-brief moments.
de Armas received several acting-award nominations in early 2023, including an Academy Award nomination for Best Performance by an Actress in a Leading Role. And while she didn’t win any golden statues, her performance is the gleam amid all the gloom.
“Secretive; Whispery; Indecent”: Intentional Disconnect in 1961’s The Innocents
More gothic folklore than gruesome gore, Jack Clayton’s beautifully haunting (and hauntingly beautiful) 1961 film, The Innocents is high-art psychological horror. Co-written by William Archibald and Truman Capote, the film is based on the 1898 Henry James story, The Turn of the Screw.
Deborah Kerr stars as Miss Giddens, a governess hired to care for two children, Flora (Pamela Franklin) and Miles (Martin Stephens), at an English manor. An unsettling tone is set right from the beginning: Behind the initial screen blackness, pre-opening credits, the sound of a young girl (Flora) singing “O Willow Waly” creates a disturbing blurred line between wholesome lullaby and its mournful lament for a lost lover. The disconnect continues through the opening credits, now with birds chirping in the darkness; those familiar tweets most often heard at daybreak, instead of in the dead of night. And finally, a profile of a distressed Miss Giddens, clutching her hands together, tilting her head back with her eyes closed, her forehead glistening with perspiration; the sight of sweat common in the blazing sunlight, not in the glowing moonlight.
Day or Fright
Throughout the crisp, black-and-white film there are a number of bone-chilling scenes. The manor and its grounds become settings for strange goings-on, ones not solely reserved for the nighttime, when fatigue, shadows and imagination can get the best of someone, but in broad daylight as well, often with others nearby. But what is real, and who is credible? In the film’s first line, a sense of doubt is immediately placed upon the viewer toward Miss Giddens, when the children’s uncle asks her during the interview for the governess position: “Do you have an imagination?” An almost embarrassed Giddens replies with a yes. As the film progresses: To believe or not to believe her, that becomes the subsequent question in the viewer’s mind.
Depth of Fear
The crisp black and white mentioned earlier is the work of the cinematographer, Freddie Francis, who used a deep-focus technique, which allows the foreground, middle ground and background to be equally sharp. One of the best examples is when Flora becomes oddly excited about nature’s brutality. She declares: “Oh look, it’s a lovely spider, and it’s eating a butterfly!” (Spiders aren’t usually described as lovely, creating another example of intentional disconnect.) The large depth of field simultaneously creates distance and claustrophobia for the viewer (a visual disconnect), while also establishing Flora as the spider to Miss Giddens as the butterfly.
Brother and Sinister
In addition to this macabre outlook on nature, mature subtexts run throughout, particularly ones dealing with the misguided affection between Miles and Miss Giddens. After learning more about two of the manor’s previous residents, Giddens begins to suspect the prim, proper, poetic Miles, and the once-sweet now emotionally hysterical, Flora are not who they appear to be, that something evil has entered the innocent (foreshadowed when Giddens admires a stone cherub in the garden, only for a cockroach to crawl out of its mouth).
Giddens conveys to Mrs. Grose, the housekeeper enveloped by extreme denial, that both children “are playing, or being made to play, some monstrous game. I can’t pretend to understand what its purpose is; I only know that it is happening: something secretive, and whispery, and indecent.” (Undoubtedly, Capote-penned prose.)
The relationship between Miles and Flora becomes suspect as well. Flora seems to have a psychic connection to Miles, knowing when Miles will return home from his school, permanently dismissed for bad behavior, even before Miss Giddens or Mrs. Grose. Giddens becomes watchful of the two siblings as they hold hands, walking closely together toward the town church. A concerned Giddens says to Mrs. Grose: “Look at them. What do you think they’re saying?… They’re talking about them; talking horrors.”
And the horrors continue through the film’s dizzying conclusion (or disturbing connection to its beginning, as described earlier), one that is both spine-tingling and heavyhearted, where the secretive becomes communicative, the whispery reaches its crescendo, the indecent once again innocent.
Bundle Up: Four Films for Fall
For many of us, skies are still blue and temps are still warm. So it may be hard to get into fall-season feels. But before you know it, nature’s A/C will kick in, and we’ll find ourselves wanting to bundle up under a throw, and get all comfy, cozy, and ready to watch a fall-season flick. Here are four films that are the motion-picture equivalent of a great big hug, ones that make you feel warm, not like on a summer day, but in a warm and fuzzy kind of way:
Screen Time
The 1998 Nora Ephron film, You’ve Got Mail delivers fall-season vibes big time: Tom Hanks; Meg Ryan; a witty rom-com script; New York in the fall (“makes me wanna buy school supplies”); a heartwarming soundtrack; the unforgettable Parker “I’m having my eyes lasered” Posey. Back then, it was dial-up email, now it’s Wi-Fi, social media, and sliding into someone’s DMs that can create love connections. Classic cinematic themes of opposite attract, the importance of internal beauty, and a tireless faith (fate) in love make this a fall-season film essential.
“I didn’t know who you were with.”
Right from the opening credits, which glides the viewer into a beautiful apartment, drapes flapping in the cool breeze, to a buffet table of savory selections, this film is the epitome of cozy cinema.
Come on in!
And remember, “that caviar is a garnish!”
“You’re taking all the caviar?!”
Change of Heart
Nine years prior to You’ve Got Mail, there was Rob Reiner’s When Harry Met Sally… The Nora Ephron-penned screenplay gave new life to the romantic comedy, allowing the viewer to watch the relationship between a man and a woman, the former who believes men and women can’t be friends, develop into just that, and eventually something more. Like summer turning into fall, the film is all about transition: each goes through a major breakup (Harry with Helen, Sally with Joe); the passage of time, complete with changes in fashion and hairstyles; and most significantly, time, and life lessons, cultivate a slightly more mature Harry, and a slightly less persnickety Sally. No one is completely transformed, but each undergoes a change of heart, entertaining the notion of letting someone in, not just someone new, but someone drastically different.
During the scene that has Harry (Billy Crystal) and Sally (Meg Ryan) walking through the park, Sally sharing details (or lack thereof) of a longstanding sexual fantasy, the cinematographer, Barry Sonnenfeld captures the various orange hues and verdant shades of green in the trees. Just as the colors of the leaves begin to change, a natural visual indicator of autumn’s arrival, a shift begins for Harry and Sally. Sharing of a sexual fantasy is reserved for a more intimate bond, but here it’s shared in the context of a budding, once highly unlikely, friendship.
“Well sometimes I vary it a little.”
In another scene, Sally, in a warm and toasty red turtleneck, confides in Harry about why she and Joe broke up. The “I spy a family” monologue is Ephron prose at its best. Sally mentions at the start of her story how she and Joe “wanted exactly the same thing.” But by the end of the story, they reach a crossroads, their “wants” become “needs”; it’s another change of heart, but it’s the type that divides people apart, instead of drawing them together.
“And I started to cry.”
As the film reaches its climax, not of the iconic deli-scene kind, it’s no surprise that it takes place on New Year’s Eve, the ultimate time of the year that signifies transition. Ephron writes another heartfelt monologue, this time Harry expressing an epiphany: “… When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” I’ll have what he’s having.
“I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich.”
Shue In
This next movie may not immediately conjure up images of autumn, or New York in the fall, but Chris Columbus’ Adventures in Babysitting has that fall-season state of mind. The 1987 comedy is set partially in the Chicago suburbs, and Columbus once again captures crisp, upper-middle-class living, suddenly turned upside down (a theme he would continue to explore in 1990’s Home Alone and 1994’s Mrs. Doubtfire).
Elisabeth Shue stars as Chris Parker, a suburban teen turned reluctant babysitter. Chris and the trio of kids now in her care are forced to leave the sheltered confines of suburban life, and head into the big, bad city to pick up Chris’ friend, Brenda (Penelope Ann Miller), who’s stuck in a downtown bus station. En route, everything that could possibly go wrong, does, and Chris must tap into her highly underdeveloped street smarts.
Shue’s Chris Parker is the anti-Ferris, an underrated heroine of the ‘80s teen-comedy genre.
All the while, Chris tries to stay cool, and keeps warm, wearing gloves, a multicolored striped scarf, and a long brown coat that she inherited from her grandfather. A gold heart-shaped brooch rounds out the look; all are style cues indicative of Chris’ inherent maturity, and capability, well beyond her years. By film’s end, the character of Chris becomes the anti-Ferris, an underrated heroine of the ‘80s teen-comedy genre. Shue is lovable, relatable, and completely convincing in the role as the “every girl” in extraordinary circumstances.
The adventure begins.
And we can’t forget Thor-obsessed Sarah (Maia Brewton), the coolest tyke on roller skates.
“You want some orange?”
Mama Drama
Chris Columbus’ films showing the family structure in disarray still managed to have a comedic tone; Mrs. Doubtfire the prime example of this, as it tackled divorce, and what happens when a parent is replaced by someone who not only fills the void, but seemingly fills the position better. In 1998’s Stepmom, Columbus continued with the theme of divorce and parental replacement, but added more turmoil and tears.
Susan Sarandon’s Jackie Harrison is co-parenting two children with ex-husband, Luke (Ed Harris) and his new girlfriend, Isabel (Julia Roberts). Jackie and Isabel are at odds, with one of their wars of words taking place on a fall-leaf-covered battlefield, a fitting environment for Jackie to reveal her cancer diagnosis to Isabel.
“You guessed the wrong secret.”
Behind Isabel, the trees are alive and green, but cut to Jackie, and she almost blends into a background of fallen orange and yellow leaves, and somber earth tones. It’s after this exchange that their relationship softens, temporarily, and for the moment the tears dry, with death at one point even seen as comic relief. A Thanksgiving-themed school play features Jackie’s son, Ben (Liam Aiken) as a flying turkey (on wires) that is shot by prop bows and arrows, and muskets. A horrified Isabel asks Jackie: “Is he dead?” to which an unfazed Jackie replies: “Yeah, they killed him, but he does it so great!”
“Are you dying?”
The story continues through the fall, and into winter, culminating in the emotional “And you can have their future” scene, the beautiful midnight horse ride, and finally, a warmhearted Christmas morning, with Ben, a budding magician, receiving a gold cage with a white dove as a surprise gift; the dove also serving as a symbol of peace, the newest member of the Harrison family.
“Not today!”
So when that autumn chill begins to fill the air, get comfy on the couch with one, or all four, of these fall-inspired flicks. Which one will you bundle up with first?
The Pop Zeal Project: Sheryl Crow: “Safe and Sound”
In 1997, pop/rock musician, Sheryl Crow sang the theme song to the James Bond film, Tomorrow Never Dies. Unfortunately, the song and the film, separately and as a pairing, failed to create any lasting memories, unlike many that had come before. However, five years later, Crow released her cool, Southern-California-inspired album, C’mon, C’mon, which featured a song entitled, “Safe and Sound.” Now THAT was what “Tomorrow Never Dies” should’ve been.
Granted Bond-film theme songs have varied in style, but there are some core elements that tend to be incorporated, giving the tracks immediate recognition, and, in many cases, help contribute to their longevity. Here’s why “Safe and Sound,” at least musically speaking, works as the Bond theme that never was:
Quieter verses with hints of piano harken to Sheena Easton’s “For Your Eyes Only.” (In a live capacity, Crow has been known to play piano when performing “Safe and Sound.”)
Those pop-ballad verses erupt to a rock-inspired chorus, not unlike Paul McCartney and Wings’ “Live and Let Die.”
As showcased on “Tomorrow Never Dies,” Crow’s vocal range still lends to that impassioned, big-voice quality reminiscent of Shirley Bassey’s work on “Goldfinger” and “Diamonds Are Forever,” and Lulu’s “The Man with the Golden Gun.”
Take a listen, and as the track plays, it’s easy to imagine the classic silhouettes and other artistic imagery featured in Bond-film opening credits. In particular, take note of the climactic crescendo and Crow’s vocal run; both cement the song as soundtrack worthy.
Dark Passage: Tom Ford’s Nocturnal Animals
Intensity permeates Tom Ford’s chilling 2016 thriller, Nocturnal Animals. Amy Adams stars as Susan, a wealthy L.A. art dealer, who’s married to the handsome Hutton (Armie Hammer). One day she receives a novel written by her ex-husband, Edward (Jake Gyllenhaal). He dedicates the devastating, deeply disturbing novel to her, which causes her, with every turn of the page, to reflect on her past actions (via flashbacks to Susan and Edward at the promising start of their relationship), present (unhappy) situation with Hutton, and her growing dissatisfaction with her career.
As Susan delves deeper, the viewer also sees the “story-within-a-story,” with Ford jolting the viewer back and forth between the sleek, cold confines of Susan’s ritzy home, and the isolated highways and barren backroads of West Texas, including some menacing inhabitants, that serve as the setting for Edward’s horrifying tale.
Although Nocturnal Animals is written and directed by the famous fashion designer, it offers, in part, provocative commentary on substance vs. style, romantic vs. pragmatic, enough vs. more, and sheds light on the harsh consequences when someone is consumed by the latter instead of the former.
Neil Simon: The Write Stuff
The playwright and screenwriter, Neil Simon passed away today at the age of 91. Known for his smart, sharp tone, two (of the many) films easily considered required viewing: 1976’s Murder By Death; 1978’s California Suite.
Murder by Death is an homage to classic murder-mystery novels, features characters inspired by famous fictional detectives, gathered together at a creepy manor for dinner and a “lovely murder…” The cast is a collection of greats (David Niven; Alec Guinness; Maggie Smith, as high-society Dora Charleston; basically everyone in the movie). Here, Dick (played by Niven) and Dora arrive, greeted by a blind butler (Guinness). Simon’s witty writing is evident, and at times could be subtle, yet not any less hilarious. The fast-paced delivery only makes the lines even better, with Smith owning a fabulously deadpan punchline:
California Suite features four different stories that take place at a posh Los Angeles hotel. One of which serves as comedic commentary on Hollywood and awards shows, as Maggie Smith (yes, the same Smith) plays Diana Barrie, an English actress nominated for a Best Supporting Actress award, in town for the ceremony. (Smith actually won the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress for this role.) Every line Smith utters is gold, and the dialogue with Michael Caine is again fast-paced, like watching expert tennis players volley shots over a net. (Also of note: Jane Fonda’s Hannah, a bitter New Yorker visiting her happy-in-California ex-husband to discuss custody arrangements.) But here, Smith’s drunk Barrie returns to her hotel room after a long, disappointing night:
New “Twin Peaks” Trailer is Damn Fine
Showtime just released a new trailer for its continuation of the David Lynch-Mark Frost television series, “Twin Peaks.” Groundbreaking for its unique characters and (often horrific) storylines set in a small logging town in the Pacific Northwest, the ‘90s pop-culture phenomenon advanced TV to a cinematic level. The actress Madchen Amick (now on “Riverdale”), who played/plays the waitress, Shelly Johnson on the series, recently commented for “Entertainment Weekly” that the show “…slowed the pace down, literally slowed television’s pace down.” The trailer scrolls clever copy, in the show’s signature brown and green font, over an ominous rumble in the background, to highlight the series’ legacy as one of the most original, culturally significant works of the last thirty years. The trailer’s closing scene has a spine-tingling tone, one of the many things for which the show was renowned.
An Australian in Paris: “…That Sweet City Woman”
Kylie Minogue’s cover of the Bee Gee’s classic, “Night Fever” (from Saturday Night Fever) utilizes her upper upper-register, in order to capture Barry Gibb’s distinctive vocal style. In the live performances below, Kylie showcases her authentic, live-vocal capacity, even amid a backing track for (background-vocal) effect. When Kylie sings, “Makin’ it mine,” she’s makin’ it hers.
The staging, styling and choreography is nothing short of chic, paying homage to Parisian glam-pop-disco in the ‘70s, while the two female dancers sport voluminous hair and seductive moves of the period. Kylie joins the dance party at “I got fire in my mind/I get higher in my walking,” and can’t help near the end to do a funky four-step.
Gene Wilder: His Comedic Timing Was No Charade
The comedic actor, Gene Wilder passed away recently. Mel Brooks’ Young Frankenstein, starring, and co-written, by Wilder, wonderfully captured the actor’s distinctive talent. The film served as homage to the black-and-white horror movies of days gone by, particularly, and obviously, Frankenstein. Brooks’ take featured Wilder as Dr. Frankenstein (it’s pronounced Frahn-ken-steen, as noted in one of the many hilarious scenes), who sets out to re-animate the dead, with the help of Igor (it’s pronounced Eye Gore, played by Marty Feldman) and Inga, an attractive laboratory assistant played charmingly by Teri Garr. Peter Boyle plays The Creature; Cloris Leachman, the creepy castle caretaker; the brilliant Madeline Kahn, Dr. Frankenstein’s self-absorbed fiancé. Wilder had a knack for displaying comedic calm (“I will NOT… be… angry.”), followed almost instantaneously by frantic absurdity (“… 54-inch-wide go-rilla!”). Wilder will also be remembered for playing eccentric chocolate-factory owner, Willy Wonka; a cowboy past his prime in Blazing Saddles, another Brooks classic; his work with the comedian, Richard Pryor, and many other projects, yet it’s Young Frankenstein that displays his signature style.
Another genius gone: Madeline Kahn. Her character portrayal and delivery are close to comedic perfection:
Kubrick in Color
This montage highlights some of the director, Stanley Kubrick’s boldest, most iconic movie shots, color by color. Needless to say, it’s an absolutely brilliant look at his distinctive style and his fearless use of hue as visual cue, for example, to convey emotional tone or plot foreshadowing.
Pop Personality: Janet Jackson: “Doesn’t Really Matter”
“Doesn’t Really Matter” from Nutty Professor II is Janet Jackson’s ode to the “inner being,” that it “doesn’t really matter what the eye is seeing.” Its message a fitting one for the film, as Jackson’s character, a professor, plays the love interest of the reserved Professor Sherman Klump (Eddie Murphy), who has a Jeckyll & Hyde struggle with his larger physical stature. The song has undergone various incarnations (a music-video version; album/tour version), yet Jackson’s familiar breathy vocals over the fast-paced, syncopated lyrics remain. The All For You album track has an “edit” before the second chorus, and later a “rock mix”, both serving as opportunities for Jackson’s signature “dance breakdowns” during performances.
Innocence Found: Tom Petty’s “American Girl” in the Movies
There’s nothing like the 1977 Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers’ song, “American Girl” to inspire a feeling of carefree, sing-along abandon in its fans. Appearing on their debut album, this popular track from the late ‘70s had enough staying power to go from radio to film, making appearances in the 1982 classic, Fast Times at Ridgemont High and the 1991 masterpiece, The Silence of the Lambs.
In Fast Times, “American Girl” plays over a montage of the first day of school. For some it’s a return to another year of popularity; for others, like Stacy (Jennifer Jason Leigh), it’s the start of a challenge. As soon as Stacy appears in this montage, the lyrics begin: “Well, she was an American girl/raised under promises/She couldn’t help thinking that there was a little more to life/somewhere else.”
She meets a handsome older guy named Ron (D.W. Brown), a stereo salesman in the mall. Stacy lies about her age and agrees to a date with him, 26. Stacy has abandoned her rule-following American girl. She sneaks out and runs to meet Ron on a street corner, who picks her up in his car. As Petty sang: “After all, it was a great big world/with lots of place to run to.”
As this young girl in Fast Times wanted to quickly become a young woman, the placement of the song in The Silence of the Lambs, shows how a young woman can quickly revert to being a young girl. Catherine (Brooke Smith) is driving by herself, singing along to “American Girl” on her stereo, her familiar nature bonding the viewer to her. Catherine pounds along on the steering wheel and not only sings the lyric, “Make it last all night,” but also tries to sing the backup at the same time, which only makes her all the more endearing. She stops singing, and the camera remains focused on her face, allowing for a final look, warning the invested observer that this carefree American girl, safe in her protective environment, will soon be anything but. She helps a man (Ted Levine) outside her apartment, her heart in the right place, yet her naivety gets her in serious trouble.
Although both films are different—Fast Times, a sharp, slightly unnerving comedy, Silence, a chilling, totally disturbing thriller—the choice to include “American Girl” is a testament to how well the song works in capturing wide-eyed innocence. Thankfully, both characters come out the other side as stronger American women.