Monica’s Movie Intake (Beginnings)
Da Boss has hit a block. He’s got more than enough material for his new feature, planned to be 60-69 minutes “because it’s very modern and I want the movie to feel like a bulletin or a newspaper,” but he can’t tie it together and has hit a wall. The most important parts are done (he says), and those would be the opening 10 minutes and the final 15 minutes (I agree). “Did you do the transcribing?” DID I DO THE TRANSCRI— Wow. Just, WOW. You know this. We know this. Apparently DA BOSS doesn’t know I’ve written about her previous exchanges on the subject of NARC Film transcription and… he doesn’t read my column. Unbelievable. Can you get someone to change? Make them? I have my doubts.
But for all his faults, Da Boss has included me in a fun diversion—watching a ton of movies he’s never seen before in hopes of rejuvenating his imagination—while he allows his “hot mind to cool down and percolate.” Jesus Christ. Thank God the actual material is good (somewhat). He’s SO annoying sitting there talking about the movies “Oh, that shot’s great,” “Oh, I know him from that show,” or “Ohhh!” When he sees an actor’s name he recognizes in the opening or end credits. “What, do you know them?” Perplexed, he turned to me. “No; I know their work.” I asked him what kind of psychotic would follow someone’s life and work if they didn’t know them personally. Da Boss was stumped. He tried to say something but I called him “weird” and went back inside to decide whether or not we’d be watching Bette Davis and Michael Redgrave in Connecting Rooms (1970) or Jean Seberg and Honor Blackman in Moment to Moment (1966).
I’ve taken over movie duties while Da Boss tries to get over his “block.” I’ve set aside a number of weepies, “four-hankie pictures” as they were called nearly a century ago; Quentin Tarantino prefers the term “turgid tearjerkers,” and while some of these movies can be a bit dull, they really are very beautiful. One that I’d like to rewatch soon is called Until September from 1984 with Karen Allen and Thierry Lhermitte. Released the same year she was besotted by an alien taking the shape of her dead husband in Starman, Allen fell for a Frenchman in this mid-life drama. Don’t believe the posters you see when you Google the movie, or whatever Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert said about the movie (they liked Starman, though). She’s just such a lovely lady and how could you not fall in love watching her fall in love! Mon dieu!
Other recent favorites include 23 Paces to Baker Street, an American movie made in London using frozen funds starring Van Johnson, Vera Miles, and directed by Henry Hathaway. This is 1956, same year as Hitchcock’s The Wrong Man for Miles, and still on the up in Hathaway’s career, one which didn’t peak in popularity until near the end with 1969’s True Grit. His 1971 Western Shoot Out with Gregory Peck and Susan Tyrrell (yes) is a nasty bit of New Hollywood business, and yet another movie I’ve seen which I’ll add to the pile. If Da Boss has seen it, he probably wasn’t paying attention, so a rewatch is in order.
So, what will it be tonight? Bette Davis and Michael Redgrave? Or Jean Seberg and Honor Blackman? “I want the one starring two chicks, not one.” Oh, okay. BETTE DAVIS IT IS. “I like Bette Davis…” I DON’T CARE!!! WE’RE WATCHING JEAN SEBERG AND HONOR BLACKMAN. “Nice…”
Shit, I think he won that one.
—Follow Monica Quibbits on Twitter: @MonicaQuibbits