Sunday, August 21, 2011

superior

Franco bonds, believably, with Serkis' Caesar
"Rise of the Planet of the Apes," Rupert Wyatt's socially aware, achingly humane update of the venerable Fox franchise, is a supreme reminder never to assume. I mean, who thought that this seemingly well-worn series could be rehabilitated in such a clever, sophisticated way?

Wyatt and his scenarists Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver surmounted this challenge by honoring the soul of Pierre Boulle's original French novel, "La planète des singes," while bringing a timeless modernity to the piece.

The Biritsh filmmaker has also contrasted the free-wheeling '60s of the original film with the unfortunate conformist mentality that pervades the so-called New Millenium, giving this update a '50s aftertaste.

James Franco is utterly convincing as a San Francisco scientist/idealist, with both a mission and an agenda, who is experimenting on chimps to find a cure for the Alzheimer's disease that afflicts his father (John Lithgow). And Wyatt brings a certain element to his film, one essential to all films, that has fallen in disrepair in recent years - namely, exposition.

He takes his time creating the timeline that will take baby Caesar, a chimp from Franco's high-tech pharmaceutical headquarters (named Gen-Sys), to his home where Caesar bonds with his father, to the animal refuge which is anything but. Here, "Rise of the Planet of the Apes" becomes a shrewd take on the prison-film genre, and the innocent, loving Caesar (brilliantly played by a digitally costumed Andy Serkis) becomes a hardened inmate. Think Eastwood in Don Siegel's "Escape from Alcatraz."

All of this plays as a commantary/allegory on the fate of all captive animals, including those who we think are comfortably domesticated.

The film's big setpiece is a standoff between Caesar and his fellow escapees and gun-toting authorities on the expansive Golden Gate Bridge (there's never any question which species is the superior one) - a huge action scene amidst a film that's largely spoken. The dialogue penned by Jaffa and Silver is often quick, alert and literate, but there's one word here, a mere monosylable, that speaks volumes. Memorably.

Tuesday, August 09, 2011

the corner

Every bit of news that comes out of Hollywood about song-and-dance films (we really can't call them musicals anymore) is bad news...

An unecessary remake of "Gypsy," starring the wildly age-inappropriate Barbra Streisand, who will be 70 in April, as Momma Rose (she'll probably be 72, if and when the film ever gets made)...

Willow Smith as "Annie," its score presumably to be fortified with an anachronistic hiphop sound...

Jim Carrey and Jake Gyllenhaal in "Damn Yankees," a project announced so long ago that it might actually be dead now...

Hugh Jackman's threats to remake "Carousel," which is both a musical and a period piece, two genres not exactly beloved among contemporary moviegoers...

A planned filming of "Miss Saigon," which seems a tad dated and inconsequential now...

And, the final nail in the coffin, Justin Beiber's fantasy of doing a reboot of "Grease" with Myley Cyrus.

On the horizon, of course, is the remake of "Footloose," which, if you go by its trailer, now looks like an action film.

Now comes the breathless announcement that Lionsgate has greenlit a remake of the late Emile Ardolino's "Dirty Dancing" (1987).

In her blog, Flickgrrl," for The Philadelphia Inquirer, my friend Carrie Rickey wrote, "'Dirty Dancing' is like 'The Godfather.' It's a classic and you don't mess with it or otherwise try to improve, rethink, or update it." And besides, asked Carrie, "How do you take Eleanor Bergstein's autobiographical story and transpose it to another period?"

The most obvious answer is, You do it anyway.

Clearly, the motivation for this latest Bad Idea is to film two physically attractive, personality-free young actors gyrating aggressively to the original movie's jukebox score (again, fortified with new beats) and ignore the little narrative curlicues that made the original somewhat original.

To elaborate on my response to Carrie's post, while “Dirty Dancing” is not a masterwork like “The Godfather,” it is definitely a populist classic – a film embraced by the average moviegoer, not necessarily the cinéphile.

What people forget - and what Carrie brings to light - is that the film was a shrewd period piece (set in 1962, I believe) and that it had a pervasive Jewishness (Kellerman's Lodge!) that gave it its backbone and color.

The original film was about more than just class differences. It wasn't that simple.

I’m sure these two elements will be discarded in the remake. Only the dancing will remain intact and I’ve a sick feeling that Baby and Johnny (so wonderfully immortalized by Jennifer Grey and Patrick Swayze, pictured) might even be gyrating to entirely different songs in the reboot.

One other thing: The new film won’t have the invaluable Jack Weston as Max Kellerman; Jerry Orbach as Baby's bigoted doctor father or Kelly Bishop as her sexy mother; the terrific Jane Brucker as her princess-sister Lisa, or Lonny Price as the unctuous Neil Kellerman, "the catch of the county" - all of them so crucial to the singular ethnicity of what everyone thinks of as just “a great dance movie.”

unwanted child


A series of essays devoted to Peter Bogdanovich's "At Long Last Love"
* * *
PART ONE

During an interview, Billy Wilder said to me, "All my movies are my children. I love them all." Not all films are so lucky.

Case in point: "At Long Last Love," a film that was hastily dismissed by critics in 1975, ignored by the moviegoing public and seemingly abandoned by 20th Century-Fox, the studio that produced and released it.

The movie, now more than 35 years old, has never been released on home entertainment in any format whatsoever - not Beta, not VHS, not LaserDisc, not DVD, certainly not Blu-Ray. Yet Fox has found the wherewithal to release something like, say, "Beyond the Poseidon Adventure" - and other titles far worse - to home entertainment.

And until just recently, "At Long Last Love" has not been telecast or shown in retrospective houses. (Check out my postscript below.)

But perhaps most telling, in a candid moment during an interview conducted last winter by Adam Hulin (who co-programs with Matt Pennachi the fine Cinema Overdrive screening series in North Carolina), its maker Peter Bogdanovich flatly stated, "I don't love it ... because it’s too painful," thereby sealing his movie's fate.

Frankly, that's not reason enough, Peter, given that "At Long Last Love" was originally, obviously, a labor of love. One can excuse the public, which essentially does what it's told to do, as well as Fox which, like any studio worth its salt, is interested in the bottom line and in looking good. And, well, a failed film does not look very good.

Yeah, one can excuse the public and the studio, but the critics, who seemed to be reacting more to Bogdanovich's relationship with his star, Cybill Shepherd, than to the film itself, should have known better. They came to the film with a disapproving gaze (or rather, in this particular case, a non-gaze) and it was exactly what they had hoped it would be.

As for Peter's decision to disavow his own film, I'll comment on that in a subsequent post. Besides, this post - or, rather, series of posts - is not about Peter Bogdanovich. It's about his lost masterwork, "At Long Last Love," the very film that compelled me to pursue this site and dedicate it to movies misunderstood, lost, forgotten and generally neglected. But in the case of ALLL, neglected no more. Herein is an eight-part series on Peter's unwanted child. Enjoy!


Note in Passing: Wait! Wait a minute. Recently, after years of being dormant, ALLL has suddenly reappeared and, with it, an apparant resurgence of interest. It has been streaming on Netflix; it was screened at the Anthology Film Archive in June as part of its '70s movie musicals retrospective, and it now shows up with some regularity on the Fox Movie Channel, with more screenings scheduled for today and August and September 10 & 22. It's worth discovering/reevaluating. Now, read on...

Next Up
- My anaylsis of the film

* * *

Bogdanovich directs Shepherd and Del Prete in the "You're the Top" number from "At Long Last Love"

PART TWO

With its elegantly schematic storyline, Peter Bogdanovich's "At Long Last Love" works on a dual-level as both heartfelt hommage and light spoof, lovingly appropriating, as my friend and colleague Carrie Rickey so aptly puts it, "the feel of early Mamoulian or Lubitsch."

The film has insouciance to spare and is tinged with a haunting air of melancholy.

Originally graced with 21 songs by Cole Porter (eventually scaled back to 16, thanks to a series of visits to the editing room), the 1975 release tells the unrushed story of a rondelay - four people who pair up and break up over the course of what seems to be a long weekend, only to regroup in yet another uncertain variation.

Burt Reynolds is spot on as Michael Oliver Pritchard III, a wealthy playboy suffering from bad case of ennui; Cybill Shepherd is the languid, petulant heiress-on-the-skids Brooke Carter; Duilio Del Prete fractures English as Johnny Spanish, a dashing, devil-may-care Venetian gambler, and Madeline Kahn entertains as brassy showgirl Kitty O'Kelly, who's unlucky in love, natch.

On the sidelines is another uneasy couple - John Hillerman as Rodney James, Pritchard's very proper manservant, and Eileen Brennan as Elizabeth, Brooke's sassy, hard-nosed maid. And Mildred Natwick pops in as Mabel, Pritchard's mother, understandably confused about her son's love life.

Bogdanovich handles these amusing denizens and the luxe material that encircles them with easy aplomb, bringing sly wit, a cinéphile's eye and panache to his breezy, fluffy storytelling.

In 1975, Bogdanovich was a young director of great reach, a budding auteur willing to try anything. And, here, he reached rare artistic heights with his rather perilous decisions to (1) have all the film's songs sung "live" (rather than pre-record them); (2) have his cast largely improvise their dance steps (with some help from dance coordinators Rita Abrams and Albert Lantieri), bits that are done with the scratch-pad casualness of those carefree, in-between numbers in the Astaire-Rogers musicals, and (3) style his film with black and white costumes and set decorations exclusively (after Fox vetoed his plans to shoot in black-&-white). Cinematographer László Kovács certainly shares in Bogdanovich's triumph here.

"At Long Last Love" was something of a filmic preëmptive strike in its day, not surprising given that Bogdanovich was young, ambitious and brash (some might say arrogant). Remember, this was the same year when Steven Speilberg's "Jaws" changed everything in film. And here was a movie musical, a genre considered resolutely old-fashioned. The fact that Bogdanovich purposely kept his film "old-fashioned" is something that most people simply didn't get.

That said, "At Long Last Love" is lovely, loving, engaging and fun, and its only true failing is its maker's audacity.

Perhaps it' simply too good for audiences, then and now. I've a hunch, however, that Mamoulian and Lubitsch would have loved it.

Next up- The criticism


* * *

PART THREE

One of the built-in problems with criticism is that when reviewers like a film, they go back and see it again and again, studying it and elevating it even further in their minds.

This doesn't happen with a film that they revile or receive negatively. They move on and the awfulness of the film in question remains burned in their minds.

And, frankly, when the buzz is bad, watching a film with an open mind can be difficult – akin to trying to see the screen at the end of a lo-n-ng corridor where there are all kinds of wires and other paraphrenalia obstructing the view.

I can say this with some authority and certainty, having been a critic way longer than it's healthy to be.

Alfred Hitchcock's "Vertigo" is that rare exception of a film that was hastily dismissed by the critics in its day but that has been reevaluated, its standing adjusted upward. This James Stewart-Kim Novak fever dream has managed to survive its critically beatings in 1958 to become a "masterpiece." Richard Quine's "Bell, Book and Candle," another Stewart/Novak film from the same year, has also grown in stature after being initially written off.
In the case of "At Long Last Love," the critics saw it, disliked it and moved on, putting it out of their minds. I recall the critics complaining about the film but without ever really verbalizing exactly what it was they didn't like about it. (Not surprisingly, most of the negativity that continues to surround the film seems to come from people who haven't even seen it. This is not uncommon. Still, opinions based on hearsay or assumptions are ... worthless.)

Incidentally, one of the easier, more common slams against the film by its critics was that its cast couldn't sing, which is just not true. Everyone in the film can carry a tune; no one hits a sour note. And I admire their definace in the aftermath: Cybill Shepherd, for one, went on to do a well-regarded jazz album with Stan Getz, titled "mad about the boy." (Prior to the film, she had recorded an album of Porter songs titled "Cybill Shepherd Does It ... to Cole Porter.")

And Reynolds, unfazed, went on to sing in Colin Higgins' "The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas." (Reynolds - whose singing voice, to my untrained ears, goes down easy in the style of Dean Martin's - also recorded an album, "Ask Me What I Am.")

Prior to doing "At Long Last Love," Mildred Natwick headlined the 1971 Kander-Ebb stage musical, "70, Girls, 70," about larcenous old-timers, which was based on the 1959 British play by Peter Coke, "Breath of Spring," which also became Robert Asher's 1960 film, "Make Mine Mink."

And Kahn and Del Prete both had musical backgrounds.

Note in Passing: If my memory serves me correctly, when Peter was planning ALLL, he had a different cast in mind, with the exception of Cybill Shepherd, who was always part of the plan; actually, Peter has credited her with initiating the film. However, the roles eventually played by Burt Reynolds, Madeline Kahn and Duilio Del Prete, were once envisioned with Ryan O'Neal, Barbra Streisand and Elliott Gould, respectively. I remember those names having been bandied about during pre-production, although I can't vouch for the veracity of the reports where I read them.

Next Up- The songs


* * *

PART FOUR

The Songs
(I'll annotate those songs that were edited out/restored)

Music and Lyrics by Cole Porter
Music supervised and conducted by Lionel Newman and Artie Butler
Orchestrations by Gus Levene

Overture
-A medley of “At Long Last Love,” “You’re the Top,” “I Get a Kick Out of You,” “It’s De-Lovely” and “Just One of Those Things”

1. “Down in the Depths on the 90th Floor” – sung by Madeline Kahn
(This number was cut prior to theatrical release; reinstated in 16mm and TV prints and restored 35mm prints)

2. “Tomorrow” – sung by Duilio Del Prete
(cut prior to theatrical release; reinstated in 16mm and TV prints and restored 35mm prints)

3. “Which” – sung by Cybill Shepherd
(subsequently shortened during first-run engagements)

4. “Poor Young Millionaire” – sung by Burt Reynolds

5. “Etiquette” – sung by Eileen Brennan and Shepherd
(cut prior to theatrical release; reinstated in 16mm prints; deleted from TV prints)

6. “You’re the Top” – sung by Reynolds, Kahn, Shepherd and Del Prete

7. “Find Me a Primitive Man” – sung by Kahn

8. “Friendship” – sung by Shepherd, Kahn, Reynolds and Del Prete

9. “Friendship” (reprise) – sung by John Hillerman, Brennan, Shepherd, Kahn, Reynolds and Del Prete

10. “But in the Morning, No” – sung by Brennan and Hillerman

11. “At Long Last Love” – sung by Kahn, Reynolds, Shepherd and Del Prete

12. “Kate the Great” – sung by Mildred Natwick and company
(cut prior to theatrical release; never reinstated)

13. “Well, Did You Evah?” - sung by Reynolds, Shepherd, Del Prete, Kahn and Natwick

14. Centerpiece Medley:
“From Alpha to Omega” – sung by Del Prete and Kahn
“But in the Morning, No” – sung by Hillerman and Brennan
(cut prior to theatrical release; never reinstated)
“Let’s Misbehave”/ “It’s Delovely” – sung by Shepherd and Reynolds
“From Alpha to Omega” – sung by Del Prete and Kahn
(cut prior to theatrical release; never reinstated)
“It’s Delovely” - sung by Shepherd and Reynolds
(cut prior to theatrical release; never reinstated)
“From Alpha to Omega” (soft-shoe version) – sung by Del Prete and Kahn
(cut prior to theatrical release; reinstated in 16mm prints; deleted from TV prints)
“It’s Delovely” - sung by Shepherd and Reynolds
“But in the Morning, No” – sung by Hillerman and Brennan
“From Alpha to Omega” – sung by Del Prete and Kahn
(cut prior to theatrical release; never reinstated)
“It’s Delovely”/”Let’s Misbehave” - sung by Shepherd and Reynolds

15. “Just One of Those Things” – sung by Reynolds, Shepherd and Del Prete

16. “Goodbye, Little Dream, Goodbye” – sung by Kahn
(cut prior to theatrical release; never reinstated)

17. “I Get a Kick Out of You” – sung by Shepherd

18. “Most Gentlemen Don’t Like Love” – sung by Brennan, Kahn and Shepherd

19. “I Loved Him (but He Didn't Love Me)” – sung by Kahn and Shepherd
(cut during first run; subsequently reinstated)

20. Finale: “A Picture of Me Without You” – sung by Reynolds, Shepherd, Del Prete and Kahn

End Titles
-A medley of “You’re the Top,” “I Get a Kick Out of You” and “Just One of Those Things”
(This medley was deleted for certain versions of the film; the end credits were played mute)

"Most Gentlemen Don't Like Love"

"Down in the Depths on the 90th Floor"

Del Prete, Kahn, Reynolds and Shepherd performing in the "Friendship" number

Next Up- The different versions of ALLL

* * *

PART FIVE

A Work in Progress

Or, The Eight Different Versions of "At Long Last Love"

Initially, Bogdanovich couldn't be demoralized by the response to ALLL. Like a champ, he continued to work on it, and with some passion, long after its release. Finally, he gave up and the film disappeared.

For decades.

Much of the various editing sessions that the film endured involved the musical numbers. No surprise here. For some bizarre reason, songs are usually the first things to go when a musical has to be shortened. No surprise also because ALLL started out with 21 songs in its script.


Each of the four main characters had an introductory song when the film was previewed. By the time the film opened, the first two songs - those for Kahn and Del Prete - were eliminated. Bad move. The release version opened with Shepherd's song which, given how critics felt about the actress at the time, made a bad - very bad - first impression.

Lost was Madeline Kahn's sublime reading of "Down in the Depths on the 90th Floor," a smashing way to open the film.

But its greatest loss during the editing process was the abridgement of the ambitious centerpiece medley, which breathlessly alternates among the three couples in the film, each of them with a signature song.

And at one point, the bouncy exit music, played over the end credits, was deleted and played with no sound, an eerie, funereal effect: The film doesn't so much end - now, it literally dies.

By my count, there are at least eight different cuts of "At Long Last Love" out there. What follows is a listing of the different versions and their content...

1. Preview Versions (previewed twice)
- Presumably the most complete versions.

2. Release Version
- The opening songs, “Down in the Depths on the 90th Floor” and “Tomorrow,” were eliminated, along with “Etiquette,” “Kate the Great,” “Goodbye, Little Dream, Goodbye” and most of the aforementioned centerpiece medley.

3. Re-edit Version (during initial run)
- “Which” was shortened and, unbelievably, “I Loved Him” (which synopsizes the film's plot) was elminated.

4. 16mm Version #1
“Down in the Depths on the 90th Floor,” “Tomorrow,” “Etiquette” and “I Loved Him” were all reinstated; “Kate the Great” and "Little Dream" are still missing, and “Which” remains abbreviated.

5. 16mm #2
“Tomorrow” is here in a slightly different version; the “Alpha to Omega” soft shoe during centerpiece medley is reinstated;, and the exit music eliminated. The end-credit scroll is now presented mute, very unnerving.

6. The ABC Network telecast
Reader David Gideon jogged my memory, reminding me of this one-time-only network broadcast of ALLL, which ABC relegated to late-night programing. As David writes, "This edition seems somewhat like one of the 16mm versions you describe: it was a pretty aggressive re-editing of the film. Lots of things were cut - such as 'Which?,' the first half of the first 'You're the Top', the 'Friendship' reprise, and much more), but it also included 'Etiquette,' 'I Loved Him,' a longer version of 'Tomorrow' than the current one, the 'Alpha and Omega' soft-shoe, and other stuff previously unseen. Plus it had the silent closing credits (not actually silent; they run over distant street noises)."

7. Syndicated TV version
“Down in the Depths on the 90th Floor” and “Tomorrow” remain in film; “Which” is still abbreviated; “Kate the Great” and "Little Dream" are still missing; “Alpha to Omega” soft shoe eliminated, and the end titles remain mute.

8. Fox Movie Channel
“Down in the Depths on the 90th Floor” and “Tomorrow” remain in film; “Which” still abbreviated; “Kate the Great” and "Little Dream" are still missing; “Alpha to Omega” soft shoe eliminated; but the end-titles music has been reinstated. Huzzah!

Next Up- Why ALLL Disappeared

* * *
PART SIX

"At Long Last Love" had the misfortune to get caught in Peter/Cybill crossfire. There's nothing wrong with the film, except possibly its unlucky timing.

By the time it was released, the press - including film critics - had grown weary of the Peter-Cybill relationship. There was the misconception that Cybill was in every film that Bogdanovich made - that she was being overexposed by him - when the fact is, the two had made only two films prior to ALLL. And both are good and Cybill is good in them - "The Last Picture Show" and "Daisy Miller," an underrated film that, unlike ALLL, hasn't been buried.

Anyway, in that environment, the film didn't stand a chance.

But why has it been made impossible to see? And who made it impossible?

I have several theories. It would be easy to blame Fox which might have been embarrassed by the movie's failure, but Peter contends the studio loved it and, as noted in the first post here, the studio has made far more inferior films available for home entertainment.

Could it have something to do the song rights? The music licensing might be too expense to justify a home-video release. Fact is, that’s the problem behind a lot of the higher-profile MIA movies.

Or perhaps the Cole Porter estate would prefer it remain out of sight, a la the restraint that the Gershwin estate allegedly has put on Otto Preminger's film of "Porgy and Bess," which has been largely unseen since its première engagement in 1959.

And then there's Peter. According to Brian Mills' "101 Forgotten Films" (Kamera Books, 2008), "Bogdanovich owns the rights (to the film) and has stated that he does not intend to release the film on DVD."

It is not unusual for a film personality to totally disavow a movie. Faye Dunaway has deleted "Mommie Dearest" from her filmmography, for example, the suspicion being that the film hurt her career. But Dunaway has asserted that she ignores it because it simply isn't a good movie.

In her opinion.

There's no doubt that Peter's Hollywood career was seriously affected by ALLL. He made one major studio film following it - Columbia's "Nickelodeon" - and a few scattered studio titles aftewards ("Mask," "Texasville" and "Noises Off") but has largely been consigned to smaller independent and TV films.

He was no longer the golden-boy auteur.

What's telling is that just about everything he's done, even some nondescript TV stuff, is available on home entertainment.

But not "At Long Last Love."

The film is way overdue for a restoration. Perhaps with Criterion working its magic. Perhaps with Peter's involvement. Such a move could validate both the film and its maker.

Vindication, yes. At long last. But that seems unlikely.

And "At Long Last Love" is fated to remain an orphaned, unwanted child.

Tinged with an air of melancholy.

Next Up- Peter's Inteview with Adam Hulin

* * *

PART SEVEN

What follows is a transcript of an interview with Peter Bogdanovich, conducted last winter by Adam Hulin who, as previously noted, co-programs the Cinema Overdrive screening series in North Carolina.

The interview is the the sixth segment in an excellent 12-part session with Hulin.

Bogdanovich is mesmerizing in it and quite entertaining. When the subject of "At Long Last Love" comes up, Peter opens up about the film (for the first time, it seems to me) and describes it as a "painful" experience. And when Hulin observes that ALLL has never been put out on video, Peter for all intents and purposes skirts the reference.

Here goes:

Peter: “When I made ‘Daisy Miller,’ Frank Yablans commented that it was like ‘Babe Ruth punting.’ With ‘At Long Last Love,’ I tried to hit it out of the fence. It was a disaster.

"Cybill had given me a book of lyrics by Cole Porter – a big coffee table book of lyrics.

"I thought it would be fun to write a script based on the lyrics and did. I wrote it for the cast that did it pretty much. And it was an original musical comedy. Now, an original musical comedy for Broadway, they take it out on the road for six months before bringing it to Broadway. We had two previews. The first was a complete disaster; the second was pretty good.

"And then I screwed it up and we opened cold without previewing it more. It was a terrible mistake. I was rushed into opening. Everyone at the studio loved it. Big mistake."

Hulin: “Visually, it’s very monochromatic with the set design in very, very black and white.”

Peter: "Yeah, we did it black and white in color.

"I wanted to do it what Lubitsch had done with the first musicals ever made - 'Love Parade,' 'The Smiling Lieutenant,' 'Monte Carlo.' They did the singing ‘live’ with the orchestra off camera.

"I wanted to do the singing ‘live’ for which Fox invented a whole speaker that would fit in the ear and the antenna was combed into the hair and we had someone playing an electric piano with the horn turned off so they could hear it in their ear but we wouldn’t record it. It was very complicated - cost about $25,000 to invent this.

"It was great. Everyone loved the picture but it was cut wrong. And It was my fault and the studio’s fault for rushing me. We should have taken more time before opening it. Once it was opened, I saw what was wrong with it."

Hulin: “What in your opinion was wrong with it?”

Peter: "Wrong sequences. Wrong things we used – some of the wrong stuff. Things cut that shouldn’t have been cut. Things that should have been cut weren’t. It was a mess. When I afterward recut it for television, that’s the version everybody sees and they say ‘What’s wrong with the picture? Why’d it get such bad reviews?’ Well, that’s not the version that was released."

Hulin: “That’s the only version I’ve ever seen. Because really, it’s a lost picture - because Fox has never put it out on video.”

Peter: There’s a beautiful print of it – a 35 mm print – that they showed in San Francisco a couple of years ago when they did a tribute to me. They loved the picture. People loved the picture. I don’t love it ... because it’s too painful."

* * *
For its June 18 and 21 screenings of ALLL, the Anthology Film Archive printed the following program note:

"Fresh off his highly successful features of the early 70s (THE LAST PICTURE SHOW, WHAT’S UP DOC?, and PAPER MOON), Bogdanovich decided to try his hand at the Hollywood musical. Despite featuring Burt Reynolds and Cybill Shepherd, the music of Cole Porter, and sumptuous production values, it was a box office failure, not least of all because of Bogdanovich’s daring decision to record the songs live on-set, despite his stars’ lack of polished musical talent. As a result the film is rarely revived – but it’s nevertheless a fascinating experiment, one Bogdanovich continues to proclaim a personal favorite among his films. These extremely rare screenings are not to be missed!"

"Personal favorite"? I wish. But, unfortunately, that doesn't jibe with what Peter said in the above interview.

Next Up- Roger Ebert's 1975 review

* * *

PART EIGHT

Movie Review:"At Long Last Love"

By Roger Ebert / January 1, 1975 / Chicago Sun-Times

It's impossible not to feel affection for "At Long Last Love," Peter Bogdanovich's much-maligned evocation of the classical 1930s musical. It's a light, silly, impeccably stylish entertainment, and if the performers don't come up to the comparisons they evoke with the genius of Astaire and Rogers, that's not entirely their fault; the studio tradition that developed and nurtured the great musical stars no longer exists, and a movie like this has to be made from scratch.... ...The movie's no masterpiece, but I can't account for the viciousness of some of the critical attacks against it. It's almost as if Bogdanovich is being accused of the sin of pride for daring to make a musical in the classical Hollywood style. Click here for Roger's full review

.............................................The End.............................................

Monday, August 08, 2011

indelible moment: "Auntie Mame" (1958)

That incorrigible Liberal, Mame Dennis, trapped by arch Conservatives (and close talkers) Doris and Claude Upson who threaten to turn her beloved nephew Patrick into "an Aryan from Darien"
For my money, there are any number of memorable moments in Morton DaCosta's hugely entertaining film of his Broadway hit, "Auntie Mame."

Armed with a terrific script by Betty Comdon and Adolph Green (working from the stage original by Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee) and abetted by his Broadway star, Rosalind Russell (plus the divine Coral Browne), DaCosta breezily swept his audience from one richly comic scene to another. There are umpteen of them in "Auntie Mame" and singling out one is near-impossible, but my hands-down favorite arrives late in the film when Russell's Mame Dennis pays a visit to her nephew Patrick's future in-laws, Claude and Doris Upson, at their Early American manse in Mountebank (their signpost reads "Upson Downs"), described as being "right above Darien and completely exclusive and restricted."

"Exclusive to what and restricted to whom?," asks an annoyed, impatient Mame. Mame Dennis, you see, has zero tolerance of intolerance.

Claude and Doris, played to the hilt by Willard Waterman and Lee Patrick, are Conservative to the max, terribly unctuous and given to talking up close. Mame, on the other hand, is a Liberal and decidely a provocateur.

The Upsons' flagstone patio is decorated to reflect "authentic Colonial America" (Doris' words), replete with assorted chachkas and a spinning wheel. (Robert Hanley and George James Hopkins collaborated on the terrific set decorations for the film.) While plying Mame with "daiquiris made with honey" and canapes made of "strained tuna fish, clam juice and peanut butter" (a recipe from the Ladies Home Journal), the Upsons announce that they plan for Mame to go in with them and buy the adjoining property as a wedding gift for Patrick and their daughter, Gloria.

The phonograph in the background is playing "Tiptoe Through the Tulips," as Claude shakes his daiquiri mixture in time to the rhythm.

"But we have to move fast," Claude intones. "Some people are bidding on that property. The wrong kind. Fella named Epstein. A-bra-ham Epstein."

"This section is restricted only to our property line," Doris adds. "So we feel we have an obligation to make sure that - well - you know."

Exactly how Mame upends the Upsons' plans provides the film with the perfect punchline/comeuppance - and me with an indelible moment.

Made more than five decades ago, DaCosta's "Auntie Mame" remains a bracing, ever-modern cheer for the left that the right can enjoy.

Saturday, August 06, 2011

unwanted child/part five

A Work in Progress

Or, The Seven Different Versions of "At Long Last Love"

Initially, Bogdanovich couldn't be demoralized by the response to ALLL. Like a champ, he continued to work on it, and with some passion, long after its release. Finally, he gave up and the film disappeared.

For decades.

Much of the various editing sessions that the film endured involved the musical numbers. No surprise here. For some bizarre reason, songs are usually the first things to go when a musical has to be shortened. No surprise also because ALLL started out with 21 songs in its script.


Each of the four main characters had an introductory song when the film was previewed. By the time the film opened, the first two songs - those for Kahn and Del Prete - were eliminated. Bad move. The release version opened with Shepherd's song which, given how critics felt about the actress at the time, made a bad - very bad - first impression.

Lost was Madeline Kahn's sublime reading of "Down in the Depths on the 90th Floor," a smashing way to open the film.

But its greatest loss during the editing process was the abridgement of the ambitious centerpiece medley, which breathlessly alternates among the three couples in the film, each of them with a signature song.

And at one point, the bouncy exit music, played over the end credits, was deleted and played with no sound, an eerie, funereal effect: The film doesn't so much end - now, it literally dies.

By my count, there are at least seven different cuts of "At Long Last Love" out there. What follows is a listing of the different versions and their content...

1. Preview Versions (previewed twice)
- Presumably the most complete versions.

2. Release Version
- The opening songs, “Down in the Depths on the 90th Floor” and “Tomorrow,” were eliminated, along with “Etiquette,” “Kate the Great,” “Goodbye, Little Dream, Goodbye” and most of the aforementioned centerpiece medley.

3. Re-edit Version (during initial run)
- “Which” was shortened and, unbelievably, “I Loved Him” (which synopsizes the film's plot) was elminated.

4. 16mm Version #1
“Down in the Depths on the 90th Floor,” “Tomorrow,” “Etiquette” and “I Loved Him” were all reinstated; “Kate the Great” and "Little Dream" are still missing, and “Which” remains abbreviated.

5. 16mm #2
“Tomorrow” is here in a slightly different version; the “Alpha to Omega” soft shoe during centerpiece medley is reinstated;, and the exit music eliminated. The end-credit scroll is now presented mute, very unnerving.

6. Syndicated TV version
“Down in the Depths on the 90th Floor” and “Tomorrow” remain in film; “Which” is still abbreviated; “Kate the Great” and "Little Dream" are still missing; “Alpha to Omega” soft shoe eliminated, and the end titles remain mute.

7. Fox Movie Channel
“Down in the Depths on the 90th Floor” and “Tomorrow” remain in film; “Which” still abbreviated; “Kate the Great” and "Little Dream" are still missing; “Alpha to Omega” soft shoe eliminated; but the end-titles music has been reinstated. Huzzah!

Next Up- Why ALLL Disappeared

Thursday, August 04, 2011

love, lucy

When Warner Bros. purchased the screen rights to Jerry Herman's musical version of "Auntie Mame" in 1971, it was made clear from the getgo that the show's original star, Angela Lansbury, would not be starring.

I interviewed Lansbury in December of that year - in conjunction with Disney's "Bedknobs and Broomsticks" - and asked for her take on the matter and about the then-recently announced casting of Lucille Ball as "Mame." Lansbury, ever the pro, took it in stride, explaining that Warners planned to make an inexpensive version of the show and that most of the film's budget would be invested in its star's salary.

The studio needed not just a big star, but an icon.

Rosalind Russell, meanwhile, the original Auntie Mame and a contemporary of Lucille Ball, questioned her friend's age.

Roz opined that maybe Cher would have been a more appropriate choice.

Well, it took nearly three years for "Mame" to finally premiere at Radio City Music Hall (on 27 March, 1974). In the interim, when the film was still in production, I wrote a column about Lucy's big comeback: "Mame" - being filmed by Gene Saks, who also directed it on stage - would be her first movie in 6 years, following Melville Shavelson's "Yours, Mine and Ours" in 1968. It would also be Lucy's final film.

About a week after the column ran, this note arrived in the mail.

Would it be too much of a cliché for me to confess that I love Lucy?

Note in Passing: On Saturday, 6 August, the day that would have been Lucille Ball's 100th birthday, Turner Classic Movies will screen 14 of her films over a 12-hour period, starting at 6 a.m. (est) and The Hallmark Channel will air an "I Love Lucy" marathon all day weekend. Can't wait.

Wednesday, August 03, 2011

unwanted child/part six

"At Long Last Love" had the misfortune to get caught in Peter/Cybill crossfire. There's nothing wrong with the film, except possibly its unlucky timing.

By the time it was released, the press - including film critics - had grown weary of the Peter-Cybill relationship. There was the misconception that Cybill was in every film that Bogdanovich made - that she was being overexposed by him - when the fact is, the two had made only two films prior to ALLL. And both are good and Cybill is good in them - "The Last Picture Show" and "Daisy Miller," an underrated film that, unlike ALLL, hasn't been buried.

Anyway, in that environment, the film didn't stand a chance.

But why has it been made impossible to see? And who made it impossible?

I have several theories. It would be easy to blame Fox which might have been embarrassed by the movie's failure, but Peter contends the studio loved it and, as noted in the first post here, the studio has made far more inferior films available for home entertainment.

Could it have something to do the song rights? The music licensing might be too expense to justify a home-video release. Fact is, that’s the problem behind a lot of the higher-profile MIA movies.

Or perhaps the Cole Porter estate would prefer it remain out of sight, a la the restraint that the Gershwin estate allegedly has put on Otto Preminger's film of "Porgy and Bess," which has been largely unseen since its première engagement in 1959.

And then there's Peter. According to Brian Mills' "101 Forgotten Films" (Kamera Books, 2008), "Bogdanovich owns the rights (to the film) and has stated that he does not intend to release the film on DVD."

It is not unusual for a film personality to totally disavow a movie. Faye Dunaway has deleted "Mommie Dearest" from her filmmography, for example, the suspicion being that the film hurt her career. But Dunaway has asserted that she ignores it because it simply isn't a good movie.

In her opinion.

There's no doubt that Peter's Hollywood career was seriously affected by ALLL. He made one major studio film following it - Columbia's "Nickelodeon" - and a few scattered studio titles aftewards ("Mask," "Texasville" and "Noises Off") but has largely been consigned to smaller independent and TV films.

He was no longer the golden-boy auteur.

What's telling is that just about everything he's done, even some nondescript TV stuff, is available on home entertainment.

But not "At Long Last Love."

The film is way overdue for a restoration. Perhaps with Criterion working its magic. Perhaps with Peter's involvement. Such a move could validate both the film and its maker.

Vindication, yes. At long last. But that seems unlikely.

And "At Long Last Love" is fated to remain an orphaned, unwanted child.

Tinged with an air of melancholy. The End.

Next Up- Peter's Interview with Adam Hulin

quirky working title


The above still from "Sexual Perversity in Chicago," directed by Edward Zwick from the David Mamet play of the same title, was included in the summer preview press kit distributed by TriStar Pictures in 1986.

However, by the time the film was actually released that July, the studio got cold feet and retitled the film with the generic moniker, "About Last Night."

It always seemed too good to be true that TriStar would retain the work's original, edgier title.

In the meantime, I have a Kris Kritofferson autographed shooting script for a Michael Cimino film titled "The Jackson County War" which, of course, became "Heaven's Gate" (1980). And let's not forget that Billy Wilder's "Ace in a Hole" (1951) became "The Big Carnival" in Paramount's desperate attempt to rescue it from box-office failure. Which brings me to the point of this post - namely, those films that underwent a title change and rarely for the good. I've come up with a few others that originally had singular titles that were vetoed in favor of the nondescript. Feel free to share others that come into mind. Here goes:

Sir Carol Reed's "Nobody Loves a Drunken Indian" (1970), starring Anthony Quinn and based on the Clair Huffaker novel, became the more politically-correct "Flap."

Norman Taurog's Cary Grant/Betsy Drake vehicle, "Room for One More," (1951) became "The Easy Way" for its TV syndication when Warner Bros. decided to spin the film into a sitcom in 1961. That new title stuck, even after the series was long forgotten. The original title returned when Warner Archives put the film on DVD.

Paul Mazursky's "Jerry Saved from Drowning" (1986) became "Down and Out in Beverly Hills."

Sidney Lumet's Brando-infused "Orpheus Descending" (1960) became "The Fugitive Kind."

Joseph Losey's "The Milk Train Doesn't Stop Here Anymore" (1968) - like "Orpheus Descending," by way of Tennessee Williams - became "Boom!"

Edouard Molinaro's "I Won't Dance" (1984), with the much-missed Kristy McNichol, became "Just the Way You Are."

Tony Bill's "The Baboon Heart" (1993), with Marisa Tomei and Christian Slater, became "Untamed Heart."

Peter Yates' "The Janitor Doesn't Dance" (1981), starring William Hurt as the janitor and Sigourney Weaver as a reporter, became "Eyewitness."

Robert Aldrich's remake of "No Orchids for Miss Blandish" (1971) became "The Grissom Gang."

Howard Zeiff's sweet-natured "Born Jaundiced" (1991) became "My Girl."

Robert Altman's "The Presbyterian Church Wager" (1971) became "McCabe and Mrs. Miller."

Altman's "Brewster McCloud and His Sexy Flying Machine" (1970) was simplied to "Brewster McCloud."

Altman's all-star "Prêt-à-Porter" (1994) was translated to "Ready to Wear."

Joan Micklin Silver's "Chilly Scenes of Winter" (1979) became "Head Over Heels," only to be retitled back to "Chilly Scenes of Winter."

Andrew Bergman's "Cop Gives Waitress Two Million Dollar Tip" (1994), with Bridget Fonda and Nicolas Cage, became "It Could Happen to You."

Jon Avnet's hugely poplular "Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe" (1991), based on the book by Fannie Flagg, was reduced to "Fried Green Tomatoes."

George Cukor's Judy Holliday gem, "A Name for Herself" (1954), became "It Should Happen to You."

Finally, there's a film whose re-title I prefer. Jonathan Demme's "Citizen Band" (1977) was momentarily changed to "Handle with Care."
Two other perfectly fine titles, meanwhile, were preserved at the 11th hour. Gilbert Cates' "I Never Sang for My Father" (1970) was slated to be retitled "Strangers" (replete with a title song sung by Roy Clark) and William Wyler's film version of the Lillian Helman play, "The Children's Hour" (1961), almost became "The Infamous." (When Wyler earlier filmed "The Children's Hour" in 1936, the title was changed to "These Three." )

And this just in! Roman Polanski has shortened the title of his upcoming film version of "God of Carnage" to ... "Carnage."

Tuesday, August 02, 2011

Two with Joanne Woodward

As usual, Turner Classic Movies turns its August schedule over to its daily star tributes - better known as "Summer Under the Stars."

I'm particularly interested in the star celebrated on 16-17 August - Joanne Woodward - largely because Woodward is an unsung gem among Hollywood's acting fraternity but also because two certain Woodward films - long lost - will be showcased.
They are titles that have been celebrated here in my on-going Cinema Obscura essays - Martin Ritt's "The Sound and the Fury" (1959), airing at 10 p.m. (est) on 16 August, and Paul Newman's "The Effect of Gamma Rays on Man-in-the-Moon Marigolds" (1972), slotted at 2 a.m. on 17 August. I can't wait. These are two Fox titles that don't even show up on the Fox Movie Channel anymore. Go figure. Both are worth checking out, as are some of Woodward's other titles - Leo McCarey's "Rally 'Round the Flag Boys," Ritt's "Paris Blues," Fielder Cook's "A Big Hand for the Little Lady," Irvin Kershner's "A Fine Madness," Gilbert Cates' "Summer Wishes, Winter Dreams," Burt Reynolds' "The End," Stuart Rosenberg's "The Drowning Pool," Gerd Oswald's "A Kiss Before Dying" and, of course, Newman's "Rachel, Rachel."

Other Star nights that I'll be checking out are Shirley MacLaine (10 August), Debbie Reynolds (19 August), Montgomery Clift (20 August), Cary Grant (21 August), Peter Lawford (26 August), Carole Lombard (28 August), Anne Francis (29 August) and Howard Keel (30 August).

façade: Diane Varsi


Mark Robson's 1957 film version of Grace Metalious' "Peyton Place" was a huge popular and critical hit in its day, surprisingly so, and I'm convinced that most of its credbility can be traced to its two appealing young ingenués - Hope Lange who played Selena Cross and, especially, Diane Varsi, who starred as Allison MacKenzie.

Diane Varsi. Yes, Diane Varsi. What a singular actress, perhaps too singular for American moviegoers. Certainly too good for American moviegoers.

Varsi, who died in virtual anonymity of respiratory failure in 1992, made her last film appearance more than 30 years ago with a small role in Kathleen Quinlan's 1977 movie, "I Never Promised You a Rose Garden." Although she received an Oscar nomination for "Peyton Place," Varsi made it difficult for her home studio, 20th Century-Fox, to cast her in subsequent productions because she was essentially ahead of her time - a maverick and rebel with an off-kilter personality and a penchant for off-beat, sing-song line-readings.

But she managed to work for Fox, giving good performances in the Gary Cooper-Suzy Parker film, "Ten North Frederick" (based on the John O'Hara story), directed by Philip Dunne; the Don Murray Western, "From Hell to Texas" (aka, "Man Hunt"), directed by Henry Hathaway, and Richard Fleishcer's fine film on the Leopold-Loeb case, "Compulsion," starring Dean Stockwell and Bradford Dillman. But by 1959, a mere two years later, her Hollywood career was dead. A decade later, she surfaced in a series of anti-social/protest films, including "Sweet Love, Bitter" (with Dick Gregory and, again, Murray); Two Shelley Winters films, "Wild in the Streets" and "Bloody Mama" (the latter a Ma Barker flick with a young Robert DeNiro); the intriuging crime-spree film, "Killers Three" (with Dick Clark and Robert Walker, Jr.), and Dalton Trumbo's anti-war saga, "Johnny Got His Gun" (starring Timothy Bottoms).

Then, she disappeared again, returning briefly in "I Never Promised You a Rose Garden."

Diana Varsi's slight filmmography is as idiosyncratic as the actress herself, not unlike another curious personality from a decade later, Mimsy Farmer. One of a kind, again too good for the marketplace

Monday, August 01, 2011

cinema obscura: Two with Robert Preston

Following his incredible success on Broadway in "The Music Man," the fabulous Robert Preston went on to give his defining performance in the 1962 film version - a performance which should have earned him at least an Oscar nomination but didn't.

What's fascinating is that he bookended that performance with roles in the film version of two plays, both apparently lost.
Delbert Mann's "The Dark at the Top of the Stairs" (1960)
There are those who thought that the great playwright William Inge would enjoy the household-name status of Tennessee Williams, given that in the 1950s he wrote such plays as "Come Back, Little Sheba," "Picnic," "Bus Stop" and, in 1957, "The Dark at the Top of the Stairs," all of which were adapted into films. His 1959 play, "A Loss of Roses," became the 1963 film, "The Stripper" and he also wrote the screenplay for Elia Kazan's "Splendor in the Grass" (1961), in which Inge played the small role of of a minister who counsels Natalie Wood.

Kazan also directed the Broadway version of "The Dark at the Top of the Stairs," which opend at the Music Box Theatre on December 5, 1957, with a cast including of Eileen Heckart, Pat Hingle and Teresa Wright. Once again, we have another dysfunctional family drama about a man who, in middle age and out of work, tries to compensate for a lack of self esteem by cheating on his wife with another woman in another town.

The 1960 film, directed by Delbert Mann from Harriet Frank, Jr.'s adapation, starred Preston in the Pat Hingle role, along with Dorothy McGuire, Eve Arden, Angela Lansbury and a young Shirley Knight, an Oscar nominee. Preston was great as always in this and ... "All the Way Home."

Alex Segal's "All the Way Home" (1963)
This piece has something of a legendary history. Based on James Agee's Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, "A Death in the Family," it was first adapted by Tad Mosel for the stage in 1960. It opened at the Belasco Theater on November 30th of that year, with a cast headed by Arthur Hill, Colleen Dewhurt and - now get this - Lillian Gish and Aline MacMahon. Actor's heaven. Arthur Penn directed.
Set in Tennessee in the early 1900's, "All the Way Home" revolves around a man's sudden, accidental death and the ramifications that it has on his family, especially his young son. The play examines the process of mourning and the heartache that makes it almost impossible to heal.

The 1963 film version, directed by Alex Segal, starred Preston as the father, Jean Simmons as his wife, Pat Hingle as his brother and, recreating her Broadway role, the great MacMahon as Aunt Hannah. Michael Kearney played the boy, a role played on Broadway by John Megna, a child actor best known for his role as Dill in the film, "To Kill a Mockingbird." Philip H. Reisman Jr. did the adaptation for this most affecting film. "All the Way Home" was also filmed twice for televison - first in 1971 with Fred Coe direcing Richard Kiley, Joanne Woodward and (again) Hingle in a teleplay adaptation by Mosel. The second TV version, shot in 1981 by Delbert Mann, starred William Hurt, Sally Field and Ned Beatty. Polly Holliday played Aunt Hannah.

Robert Preston had a terrific second act. Thanks to the success of his signature musical, he went on to do the aforementioned films, plus Sam Peckinpah's "Junior Bonner," Sidney Lumet's "Child's Play" (the above photo of Preston is from the Lumet film), Michael Ritchie's "Semi-Tough" Gene Saks' "Mame," Nick Castle's "The Last Starfighter" and, of course, two Blake Edwards titles, "Victor/Victoria" and "S.O.B."