Sunday, May 18, 2014
Hey Everyone! Yes, I feel like I'm waking up after a long hibernation. I live in the Chicago area, and this winter would have made anyone want to curl up in a ball and wish it would go away!
Anyway, I'm feeling a little refreshed. I'm hoping by the end of June I'll have a new post up. Until then, I'm rubbing my eyes ... although that could be from the cat on my back, because I'm allergic.
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Hi Everyone! Yes, I am still around. My life is good but busy, and the blog unfortunately is an obligation to fulfill rather than an enjoyable hobby that I always meant it to be.
Last week, I had decided to "retire" the blog. A good blogger must find the time to write interesting content -- in this case, watch a film, do some research and then translate my thoughts into words -- and to read other blogs, commenting on the content and striking up a dialogue with the writer.
However, I'm just not ready to end Classicfilmboy. I really do love my blog, and it's something I want to continue doing. So, I've decided to take a short break until spring. I make no promises; at that point, I'll determine whether to continue or to stop.
So, until then, here's a photo of my beloved Audrey with the late, great Peter O'Toole from the set of "How to Steal a Million." My thanks to those who have stopped by over the years and I do hope I will continue to see you in the future if and when I return (I'll be positive and emphasize "when")!
Monday, October 7, 2013
OK, so this isn't a post about a movie starring Ginger Rogers. However, I needed to get something up! My five-film Ginger filmathon will continue in a few weeks. But first, my hectic life comes first. Nothing terrible ... I'm very fortunately that I am well. Work is extremely busy, and when your work includes a lot of writing, you don't feel like writing on your time off, especially when your time off is busy being spent in other ways (volunteering, mentoring).
So ... enjoy Audrey, and for an added bonus, here's a photo of Ginger. I'll see you back here sooner rather than later!
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
NOTE: Finally, my much-delayed series on Ginger Rogers is here. It took me long enough, right? I’ve always loved Ginger Rogers, and it seemed like a natural progression that, after reviewing all of the Fred Astaire/Ginger Rogers films, to look at the very busy period that followed “The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle.” These five films released in 1939 and 1940 established her as a star in her own right.
Ginger Rogers was eager for a career on her own. While her films with Fred Astaire catapulted her into the box office top 10 during the 1930s, and she in general enjoyed working on them, Rogers was ready to go it alone.
She had already done just that, albeit briefly, when she and Astaire took a break from their series after “Shall We Dance.” Her three films included co-starring roles in “Vivacious Lady” with James Stewart and “Having Wonderful Time” with Douglas Fairbanks Jr. and a major supporting role in “Stage Door” with Katharine Hepburn. It was clear that she was ready for more, but she was re-teamed with Astaire for two more films: “Carefree,” which gave her a chance to show her magical comedic flair, and “The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle,” which gave her a more dramatic role to tackle.
When she first received the script for “Bachelor Mother,” Rogers sent a three-page letter of protest to Pan Berman, in charge of production at RKO, feeling the story line was a bit thin. But he reassured her that the main character, Polly Parrish, had enough warmth and humanity and that her fans would enjoy her in the film.
The comedy has a very simple plot. Polly finds out on Christmas Eve that she’s going to be out of work at a department store after Christmas. During the day, she sees a lady leaving a baby on the doorstep of an orphanage and, after the woman runs away, Polly picks up the baby and takes it inside. However, they believe the baby is Polly’s, which she doesn’t realize until after she gives them her name and place of work. When she runs away, they contact the department store, and owner J.B. Merlin (Charles Coburn) tells her she won’t lose her job. Unable to tell the truth despite trying, Polly accepts the job.
Unfortunately, she cannot keep the baby, and on Christmas Eve, while on her way to a dance contest in order to win some money, she drops the baby off at Merlin’s home, where his playboy son, David (David Niven), chases after her with the baby. This causes people to speculate that David is the father of this child.
Sound ridiculous? It really is. Although the story makes it clear that Polly isn’t from the city and has no relatives or close friends there, it still seems strange that her landlady readily accepts that Polly has given birth. Don’t you think the landlady would have noticed if Polly was pregnant? In addition, the holidays are mentioned only when it’s convenient to the plot. Otherwise, they are nonexistent.
But if you can put logic aside, “Bachelor Mother” is actually a fun movie. The screenplay is by Norman Krasna, who would later write “The Devil and Miss Jones” and “Princess O’Rourke,” among others. The director is Garson Kanin, receiving his first A-movie assignment as a director at RKO. Rogers found him lively and fun and full of spontaneity.
If the character of Polly doesn’t ask much of Rogers, she provides plenty of charm and uses her gift for comedy to full advantage. Niven is a fine match for Rogers, and the supporting cast is also having fun.
“Bachelor Mother” was a hit for RKO during that great movie year of 1939. By the time it was released, though, Rogers was already working on her next film, “Fifth Avenue Girl.”
Sunday, August 25, 2013
“Take Me Out to the Ball Game” is an engaging musical released by MGM in 1949. It’s all in good fun, even if the plot – what little there is of it – offers nothing new and becomes absurd by end.
But what’s significant is the pairing of Gene Kelly and Stanley Donen as the film’s choreographers, which would pave the way to greater projects.
As a baseball movie, the film offers little in the way of the great American pastime. Set after the turn of the century, Kelly plays Eddie O’Brien and Frank Sinatra is Dennis Ryan, two men who work the vaudeville circuit during the off-season and play on the infield for the champion baseball team The Wolves. The film’s major thrusts are as follows: Will O’Brien and Ryan show up to play ball? (They do.) Who is the new owner, K.C. Higgins? (Turns out to be a woman, played by Esther Williams, who knows a thing or two about baseball.) Will O’Brien successfully woo Miss Higgins? (Is there any doubt?)
These minor plot points provide the loose structure that holds plenty of music and dancing – the exuberant “O’Brien to Ryan to Goldberg” featuring Kelly, Sinatra and Jules Munshin; the romantic “The Right Girl for Me” crooned by Sinatra; the lively “It’s Fate, Baby, It’s Fate” with Sinatra and Betty Garrett; and Kelly’s exuberant solo “The Hat My Dear Old Father Wore Upon St. Patrick's Day.”
It’s unfortunate that this thoroughly likable film has so little plot, because it needs to all end somehow. What happens is rather silly, involving gambling and corruption that throws away all logic. The final number even breaks free of the plot by naming the actors rather than the characters within the lyrics of the song!
Still, there’s plenty to enjoy, thanks to the cast and the breezy nature of the plot. Kelly is at his roguish best, while Sinatra is winning as a wide-eyed innocent. If Williams lacks the presence of a Judy Garland or a Cyd Charisse, she’s still a charming presence. She appeared in 16 Technicolor extravaganzas for MGM and was one of its biggest stars. In “Ball Game,” she even gets a brief pool scene where she swims and sings the title song.
“Take Me Out to the Ball Game’s” biggest achievement may be the pairing of Kelly and Donen. When Donen was a dancer in the chorus of the Broadway production of “Pal Joey,” Kelly took him under his wing. They continued their association in Hollywood, and when Kelly was loaned out to Columbia for “Cover Girl,” Donen went with him. After a few films at Columbia as dance director, Donen went back to MGM – at Kelly’s request – to work on dance numbers for “Anchors Aweigh.” The two men put together a synopsis for “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” that they submitted to famed producer Arthur Freed, who bought it for Kelly, even though he recognized it would not be original or inventive.
Kelly and Donen actually wrote the synopsis with the third ball player identified as Leo Durocher, famed ballplayer-turned-manager who was also married to actress Laraine Day at that time. Munshin would take the role. The duo also wanted Kathryn Grayson for K.C. Higgins, but Freed originally assigned the role to Judy Garland. When she became unpredictable, he gave it to Williams, who reportedly did not get along with Kelly.
But Kelly and Donen demonstrated such skill that Freed allowed them to co-direct a film for the first time. That movie was “On the Town,” which they began after finishing “Ball Game” and also included Sinatra, Munshin and Garrett, as well as Roger Edens, Betty Comden and Adolph Green, who wrote many of the songs in “Ball Game” and would work with Leonard Bernstein on “Town.”
Freed had a phenomenal 1948-49 run, with the success of “Words and Music,” “The Pirate,” “Easter Parade,” “The Barkleys of Broadway,” “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” and “On the Town.” One of MGM’s top producers, Freed was one of the overall best because of his ability to assemble a coherent group of talent for both in front of and behind the camera.
I don’t want to forget the director of this film, Busby Berkeley, who was no slouch. It was his films in the early 1930s that resurrected the musical, and he had previously worked at MGM as director of a number of films, including several of the Garland/Mickey Rooney musicals, although his relationship with Freed and MGM would be stormy. “Ball Game” would be Berkeley’s last film as director, but he would return to choreograph musical sequences, memorably for Williams in her favorite film, “Million Dollar Mermaid.”
“Take Me Out to the Ball Game” was a huge hit for MGM and an example of the studio’s gift for making Technicolor musicals. As a baseball film, there’s not much drama surrounding the game, but it’s really meant to be colorful fun, which it definitely is.
Sunday, August 11, 2013
NOTE: I do apologize for not blogging more this summer. I’ve been assigned several major writing projects at work, which leaves me with little enthusiasm to write for fun in my spare time. Also, I’ve been enjoying my free time this summer – the trip to Paris which I mentioned in a previous post, along with some fun outings, most recently to see “The Book of Mormon” in Chicago, which was terrific. I highly recommend it. As for my previously mentioned series on Ginger Rogers, I’ll get to it soon. However, I’m now returning to my baseball theme with a pair of baseball musicals.
I had never seen “Damn Yankees!” in any form until I recently watched the 1958 movie version. Unfortunately, to use a bad baseball metaphor, it’s strictly minor leagues as a film.
As I watched it, I could imagine seeing it on a stage. And with much of the talent from the original Broadway production involved with the film, you would think it would be outstanding. But such is the pitfall of adapting stage to film – something that works on stage doesn’t necessarily work as a movie, and here it was a slew of contrasts, from oversized performances that felt constrained on film to musical numbers that either felt stage-bound or ill-at-ease in a realistic setting.
That’s not to say the film has no merit. Its charms are there; it’s one of those films where certain scenes and performances are more enjoyable than the film as a whole.
It’s a straightforward plot, and one that’s typical of a baseball film – someone helping their favorite losing team win again. This time it’s middle-aged Joe Boyd (Robert Shafer) frustrated that his beloved Washington Senators are stuck in seventh place. After his faithful wife Meg (Shannon Bolin) goes to bed one night, Joe wishes he still had the youth and energy to become a slugger and help the Senators break free from their slump.
Enter the devil in the form of Mr. Applegate (Ray Walston), who agrees to make Joe young again in exchange for his soul. Joe, using his good business sense, asks for an escape clause: If he agrees to quit the Senators before they play the final game of the season, he will be allowed to walk away. Otherwise, his soul belongs to the devil.
Mr. Applegate agrees and turns Joe into Joe Hardy (Tab Hunter), becoming his agent and showing off his phenomenal talent to the team, impressing manager Benny Van Buren (Russ Brown). Reporter Gloria Thorpe (Rae Allen) picks up the story of this mysterious yet appealing player and helps turn him into a fan favorite. When Joe begins to miss Meg and even decides to take a room in her house, Mr. Applegate calls in reinforcements: Lola (Gwen Verdon), the best homewrecker he owns, is told to distract Joe away from Meg.
The original Broadway production that opened in 1955 was an immediate hit and cleaned up at the Tonys, with awards for Best Musical, for actors Verdon, Walston and Brown, and for choreography for Bob Fosse, with Allen also nominated. All of this talent is showcased in the movie, with direction by George Abbott, who directed the Broadway version. Stanley Donen helped Abbott with the film direction.
Only Hunter is a newbie for the film, and that’s part of the problem. While the attractive Hunter has the right looks and is extremely likable, he’s not an actor on the level of the others. For example, when Joe Hardy starts to spend time with Meg, who has no idea that this is her husband, there’s no chemistry between the two, and there should be something there so we understand the strong bond these characters share. Hunter and Verdon have great fun but not great chemistry.
As for Verdon, her “Whatever Lola Wants, Lola Gets” number is dynamic, but I can see it working better on the stage, where her caricature of a seductress would play to the rafters but is too much of a caricature within the confines of the movie’s locker room set. She’s actually at her best in a number with Bob Fosse, “Who’s Got the Pain,” a showcase for the two (and a rare opportunity to see Fosse in front of the camera). The number itself has nothing to do with the plot, as it’s performed as part of a show put on for Joe Hardy, but it’s a lot of fun.
Conversely, the exuberant “Shoeless Joe from Hannibal, Mo.” featuring Gloria and the Senators probably flies on stage. But when you see the team dancing on an actual baseball field, it’s a bit ridiculous. Plus I was distracted by the three or four random people each sitting alone in the stands and wondered what that was about. At times there is a theatricality about this film that’s at odds with the realistic settings, and the pacing seems a bit off at times.
Still, there is enough to enjoy – the strong score, the vibrant and colorful production, Walston’s delectable turn as Mr. Applegate, the only lead movie role (and rare big-screen movie appearance) from Verdon, and a delightful turn from Jean Stapleton in a pre-Edith Bunker appearance as Sister Miller.
Next up is another baseball musical – “Take Me out to the Ball Game.”
Thursday, July 18, 2013
This post is part of Me-TV's Summer of Classic TV Blogathon hosted by the Classic TV Blog Association. Go to to view more posts in this blogathon. You can also go to to learn more about Me-TV and view its summer line-up of classic TV shows.
When I was a boy in the early 1970s, my family had a small portable black and white television that my mother would sometimes keep in the kitchen. Although we were never allowed to watch it at dinnertime, we could on the occasional breakfast and lunch. And while I remember enjoying such fare as “Johnny Quest,” “The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show” and “Captain Kangaroo,” the two shows I enjoyed most were reruns of “I Love Lucy” and “The Dick Van Dyke Show.”
Perhaps I was attracted to them because they felt so … foreign. Life was presented in black and white, both were set (or mostly set) in New York City, and these small families were nothing like my large family/small-town existence.
I wasn’t old enough yet to really focus on the out-of-date hairstyles or clothing. I simply laughed and did so out loud.
It’s ironic that what I’ve been watching on DVD during the past 18 months while on the treadmill has been “I Love Lucy” and “Dick Van Dyke,” and by the time I post this I will have just finished season four of the latter.
What I love about “The Dick Van Dyke Show” is the fact that life isn’t perfect in the Petrie household or in the writers’ office at the “Alan Brady Show.” What is perfect is the writing and casting, with Van Dyke and Mary Tyler Moore portraying a married couple madly in love and yet they bicker and point out each other’s faults. It’s been said often that Rob and Laura Petrie were the first sexy couple on TV. Despite the separate beds, you knew what was happening off screen.
And that’s the appeal of this timeless show – it’s real in a way that the squeaky-clean family comedies beforehand were not. Outside of Mary Tyler Moore’s loveliness (and her provocative capri pants), the show isn’t filled with a model-perfect cast. But what a cast! In the pilot, the show’s creator, Carl Reiner, plays Rob. Although the pilot didn’t sell the first time around – family shows were out, Westerns were in – it was producer Sheldon Leonard who liked the pilot but told Reiner he wasn’t right to play the character he created. So the pilot would be reshot, and the candidates to play Rob were narrowed to two actors: Dick Van Dyke and Johnny Carson. Leonard favored Van Dyke, who wasn’t a glamorous movie star whose more “average” looks would play well on TV. Van Dyke was starring on Broadway in “Bye Bye Birdie,” for which he had won a Tony Award, and when Reiner saw the show, he knew Van Dyke would be perfect.
Rose Marie was a veteran performer who was always asking Danny Thomas and Leonard to cast her in a role on TV. When they called her, she thought it was for a guest spot on Thomas’ TV series. Instead, she was offered Sally on the spot. It was Rose Marie who then suggested Morey Amsterdam as Buddy. Richard Deacon was selected from 22 character actors to play Mel. Larry Mathews was “discovered” by his mailman, who knew someone at a talent agency who signed Mathews. When the call went out for Ritchie, Mathews was the only boy sent from that agency and he got the part.
As for Laura, they couldn’t find the right actress. But Thomas remembered someone who had tried out for the role of his oldest daughter for his show, although he couldn’t remember her name – except that she had three of them. And he thought she was on a show where she only showed her legs (which was “Richard Diamond, Private Detective”).
When she was finally found, they knew she was right. As for the neighbors, Jerry and Millie Helper, Jerry Paris was spotted by Leonard at a baseball game. The two were old acting buddies, and Paris was thrilled to be cast. Paris’ best friend was married to Ann Morgan Guilbert, and while producers originally thought she should have been prettier, Paris and later Moore would be her biggest fans and supporters. Paris, incidentally, would end up directing many episodes of the show, launching a new direction to his career.
The new pilot was shot in January of 1961, but the show didn’t premiere until October of that year. It was not a hit initially, but CBS stuck by it, although the show did move all over the schedule for a while. Over its five years, “The Dick Van Dyke Show” grew its fan base until it was a top 10 hit. Its Emmy win for Best Comedy Series in season two was a shocker, although most agreed it was well-deserved. It would win four consecutive Emmys for best show, as well as multiple wins for Van Dyke and Moore.
The show holds up beautifully, thanks to that combination of sharp writing and a perfect cast. If Van Dyke and Moore were the ideal leads, the rest provided such great comic support, especially Guilbert, that the show rarely missed. Reiner himself would begin playing Alan Brady with his back to the camera, eventually taking on the occasional appearance in full view (“Coast to Coast Big Mouth” reveals Alan’s toupee and is a season five gem).
How many classic episodes are there? Well, my favorites, in no particular order, are when the gang are forced to stay in a cabin and each disappears one by one; the infamous Rob Petrie monster movie-inspired dream where Laura floats out of the closet on a pile of walnuts; Laura unable to resist temptation when a package arrives for Rob; all of the marvelous flashbacks – to Rob and Laura’s wedding, Ritchie’s birth, the purchase of their home, Laura’s pill-induced first meeting with Rob’s parents; Rob’s skiing accident; the giant bird attacking Ritchie; Laura’s toe caught in the bathtub spigot; Rob and Laura eavesdropping on Jerry and Millie which leads to an unfortunate game of charades … as you can tell, there are many.
But it’s worth pointing out that the show did do some daring stuff. When Rob flashes back to when he and Laura brought Ritchie home from the hospital and Rob thinks they have the wrong baby, they capped the episode with a sight gag that was considered risky in the early 1960s, considering the lack of minorities on television and even in starring roles in films. Van Dyke and Moore say the gag received the longest laugh and ovation of anything they did on the show (which had to be edited for the aired episode), and it broke down racial barriers by showing an interracial encounter between peers as if nothing was wrong.
You also have Sally as a full-time, well-paid professional writer at a time when women didn’t have such positions, in real life or on TV (unless it was typical female jobs, like teachers or nurses or actress). Although a running plot throughout the series is Sally unable to land a guy, there aren’t many guys – then or now – who could match Sally’s vivacity, energy and talent. In fact, it’s the show’s genius to pair her with her opposite, Bill Idelson’s Herman Glimsher. Even his name is funny, but mild-mannered mama’s boy Herman who she keeps going back to because he doesn’t try to outmatch her – he knows he can’t – he simply loves her.
Now throw in Jerry Van Dyke, Dick’s real-life brother playing Rob’s brother Stacey, or Joan Shawlee giving life to Buddy’s wife, Pickles, or Van Dyke’s personal assistant, Frank Adamo, appearing in more than 40 episodes, and you understand how wonderful it all is.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention one of the most famous opening sequences of any TV show, which is Van Dyke tripping over that ill-placed ottoman, and then the sequence showing him sidestepping the ottoman. Apparently bookies used to take bets as to which one of these sequences would open the episode!
While this post barely scratches the surface of this brilliant show, it’s clear that I love it. After five seasons, the cast decided to stop, and frankly it was the right time. Had they continued even one more year, the show would have switched to color, and it would have lost that early ‘60s chic. And for a show that tried hard not to incorporate current events (outside of the Redcoats episode, a takeoff on the British music invasion), I don’t think it could have avoided the cultural and social upheaval of the late ‘60s.