Taking Dark Shadows Into the Light

Cast photo for Dark Shadows (2012)
(L-r) HELENA BONHAM CARTER as Dr. Julia Hoffman, CHLOE‹ GRACE MORETZ as Carolyn Stoddard, EVA GREEN as Angelique Bouchard, GULLIVER McGRATH as David Collins, BELLA HEATHCOTE as Victoria Winters, JOHNNY DEPP as Barnabas Collins, RAY SHIRLEY as Mrs. Johnson, JACKIE EARLE HALEY as Willie Loomis, JONNY LEE MILLER as Roger Collins, and MICHELLE PFEIFFER as Elizabeth Collins Stoddard

I promise not to be a spoiler!

We saw the latest Johnny Depp/Tim Burton collaboration on Saturday. Dark Shadows is apparently a project that Johnny Depp has wanted to do for years. Both he and Tim Burton were big fans of the original show; Depp has wanted to play Barnabas Collins for a long time. Michelle Pfeiffer – as Elizabeth Collins Stoddard, played by Hollywood legend Joan Bennett in the original show – also spoke of her fondness for the original show. Robert and I were both curious about the new movie. We were slightly dismayed when we saw the trailer, since it seemed to be more of a comedy than a thriller. Our curiosity was tinged with slight anxiety. The original could certainly be campy and unintentionally funny at times (the bloopers are legendary, since there were no retakes), but the show was in dead earnest. After the movie opened on Friday, we read mixed reviews and hoped for the best.

Actually, as Robert put it, it wasn’t as bad as we had heard it was, but it wasn’t as good as it could have been.

The movie looks amazing. The camera is always swooping and the 1970s feel is definitely captured. Much like the original Collinwood on television (which this new version slightly resembles), this house is perched high on a cliff and filled with secret passageways and all kinds of Gothic touches. The fashions look good too; Michelle Pfeiffer’s ensembles are especially attuned to the 1970s vibe. The small village of Collinsport looks like a small town in the 1970s, with Deliverance and Superfly playing at the local cinema. One of the characters roars onscreen in a sharp red 1970 Plymouth Barracuda convertible.

As many critics have said, the first part of the movie is the best part, where we get an effective prologue set in the 17th century before the movie moves forward to 1972. Setting it in 1972 was a wise choice, since the original show is so strongly associated with the late 1960s and early 1970s (it went off the air in 1971). It also predates the technological boom of having home computers connected to the information superhighway. No one could just go to a computer and pull up the Collins family history with a few strategic mouse-clicks. They did make some interesting changes with some of the characters, but the movie gets a bit diffuse towards the end, and some may feel there’s too much emphasis on Barnabas and his adjustment to life in 1972. I’m curious to see what they cut out of it when the DVD comes out.

You do get a quick glimpse of the original Barnabas Collins, Jonathan Frid, as he enters the party scene. He has the original Angelique (Lara Parker) and Maggie Evans (Kathryn Leigh Scott) on his arms. David Selby (Quentin) is seen behind Michelle Pfeiffer. It is a shame that they were seen far too quickly, but at least they did get to make an appearance. It really would have been great if the original Dark Shadows theme had been used in the movie, but we do get to hear snippets from Robert Cobert’s original “Secret Room” theme. I noticed it especially during the prologue.

Dark Shadows had a respectable opening weekend (about $30 million in the US; over $60 counting overseas) that put it in second place. My suggestion is to give it a chance. It’s not a masterpiece film; it’s just entertainment and it’s worth seeing on the big screen. The performances are all good; Depp, Pfeiffer, Green, and Haley (as Willie) come off best.

Sextette (1978)

Above the title billing for Mae West’s final film!

Sextette (1978) – Mae West’s penultimate film

Marlo,
The female answer to Apollo.
As lovely as Venus de Milo
A living dream!

Marlo,
You hold the promise for tomorrow
For you’re the rainbow that we follow
Across the Silver Screen!

These are all the lyrics I can pick up from the theme song.

“You’re looking at the world’s champion!”

We recently picked up an inexpensive DVD combo set (called Dangerous Babes!) that had all kinds of movies, but there was one that we really wanted to see: Sextette. Sextette was Mae West’s last film, and we were pleasantly surprised to find that the print was good and the sound was clear for such a low-priced title. Not bad for less than $10. I have seen Sextette several times. I remember when it turned up on cable. From the ads and the title, it seemed it would be such a racy movie, but it’s really just a mild-mannered musical comedy with sexual undertones: the kind of film Mae West did best.

Released in 1978 (filmed a few years earlier), Sextette is a musical comedy that stars Mae West as Marlo Manners, a much-married glamorous movie queen who is about to begin her sixth marriage. She’s surrounded by a large, eclectic cast. Timothy Dalton, over a decade away from playing James Bond, is young and oh-so-cute as her somewhat befuddled English husband who seems to have totally missed out on the fact that his wife is an international sex symbol with a glamorous past. There’s about a 50-year age difference between the two, so even though Dalton plays it straight and tries to be convincing, there’s just no way the love scenes could work. They could only be played for comedy, and mostly they are. They have a memorable duet of “Love Will Keep Us Together” that when it first starts, you don’t quite believe what you’re hearing. Dalton carries much of the vocal work (not bad) while Mae undulates and throws in a “Whatevah” or “Oh, stop!” at key moments. Dom DeLuise comes off very well as Marlo’s press agent and assistant, and gets his own musical number where he dances on top of a piano. Her previous husbands are played by Tony Curtis (a Russian diplomat), Ringo Starr (an egomaniacal film director), and George Hamilton (a gangster presumed to be dead). Off all the ex-husbands, Curtis has the most to do, but comes off forced and unfunny. At the end of their scene, Mae sings what sounds like a fast-time version of “After You’ve Gone.” Let’s see, who else turns up? Ah, Alice Cooper comes in without his usual makeup to sing “Next” while some dancing hotel staff members gyrate and (reportedly) help Mae pack her things. Mae also gets to meet some athletes and trades quips with the athletic team that happens to be staying at the hotel. She meets Walter Pidgeon and George Raft (also in their final film roles) as respectively, the head of the World Peace meeting and George Raft. She had made her film debut in a George Raft film, Night after Night. Rona Barrett and Regis Philbin also make appearances as themselves, and Keith Moon plays her costume designer.

Marlo Manners reflects on her busy life.

Please, Scott, tell us more about the plot, I hear you beseeching me – and since beseeching is a practice that has unfortunately gone out of fashion, I’ll try to oblige. Marlo is on what seems like her sixth marriage (hence the title). Her press agent/assistant is along temporarily. She has to do some movie star chores on the first day of her honeymoon with Sir Michael Barrington. Barrington is kept out of the suite with various schemes while Marlo does Movie Star stuff and gets involved with World Peace (you see, a crucial meeting of the world’s powers are also at this hotel). The Russian diplomat is obstinate and refuses to capitulate, but an afternoon with Marlo (his ex-wife) helps change his mind. Marlo had been recording her memoirs (on a pink cassette, naturally) and much is made of how this cassette flits around the hotel like a bad penny. If the cassette got out, it could bring all the detente in the world crashing down, since Marlo has, shall we say, been around with various world leaders. Her newest husband decides this is all too much for him, but he hasn’t factored Marlo’s determination into the equation. It all ends happily with Marlo saying, “I look forward to saying the same thing he [Paul Revere] said: the British are coming!” followed by a long cannon slowly extending and firing.

Marlo Manners tries on costumes for her next picture.

Before I discuss Mae West much further, let me say that I’ve always enjoyed her films. Many of her films of the 1930s, such as She Done Him Wrong and I’m No Angel, are well worth seeking out on DVD and hold up well today as laugh-out-loud comedies. For those who have never seen a Mae West picture, this is the place to start. She started her movie career in her 40s, yet her age always seemed immaterial because of the way she presented herself. Even though she was a tiny person, she always wore huge platform shoes to give her height, which is why she always wore the long skirts. She had always seemed ageless. Even in 1970 when she played in Myra Breckenridge, she just seemed older, but still somewhat ageless, and she’s the best part of the movie.

However, in 1976 when Sextette started filming, Mae West was 83. That was no typo – Mae West was 83 years old when she filmed Sextette. It’s a bit tricky to pinpoint her exact birth year, but the best guess seems to be 1893 based on census data from 1900. Mae had almost no closeups in Sextette. Most of the shots were medium shots, and yes, they did fuzz things up a bit for her. Now, Mae West doesn’t look 83 in Sextette, but she does look older. She could probably have passed for 10 or 15 years younger except for her voice and carriage. Her voice sounded strong six years earlier in Myra Breckinridge, but by 1976, her voice sounded a bit weak. She had other health issues too; her hearing and eyesight were failing. Truly, it seems beyond reason for me to carp on her performance in Sextette; she’s being Mae West, as she often was in her films, and she’s giving her fans one final hurrah. She has some good “Mae” moments, but unfortunately, she is not always seen at her best here. When viewing Sextette, part of you admires her for her pluck and determination and how well-preserved she was at that age, but part of you is also wondering how this film got made in the first place. In the end, it’s best to go along with her and just enjoy the show for what it is.

Marlo visits the gym!

Sextette opened to savage reviews and poor box office. Variety called it “cruel” while the New York Times labeled it a “freak show.” Other critics were merciless — look up Rex Reed or Vincent Canby to see what they had to say about it — poking fun at her overweight figure (still not bad for a woman in her 80s) and the poor attempts to disguise her advanced age. According to her biographers, the savage reviews did have an effect on her, even though the people around her tried to keep the very worst reviews away from her. She knew the movie did not do well at the box office, and like many stars of her era, that was probably the main thing she cared about. Sadly, she died in 1980, at the age of 87.

I’m not sure that most people – even die hard Mae West fans – could call Sextette a good movie. But it can certainly be a fun movie, and you can tell that they did give it the old college try, at least in many aspects of the production. Sure, you might giggle at the musical numbers, some of which sound very tinny while others come across as downright bizarre. I do like the theme song. And the plot is more than a bit silly in spots. But Mae West is still compelling and fun to watch. If you can’t look at Sextette in a forgiving frame of mind, you’ll either be repulsed by the movie or you’ll find it hysterically funny from a camp perspective. It does have some campy moments; with Mae West in it, how could it not? One of my favorite moments is a quick one. When Alice Cooper is belting out “Next,” Mae preens behind him for a bit, then sashays into the other room. While in the doorway, she gives us one final hip twitch before disappearing into the other room. There’s also a surprisingly touching moment when she first appears on-screen, in a white (!) wedding dress. There’s excitement, because she’s still Mae West, but there’s a sweet expression on her face. She seems genuinely touched. And by many accounts, people who worked on the film with her were impressed by her dedication and her still potent star power.

Watching Sextette, you can see that if it were made earlier in her career, perhaps in the 1950s or 1960s, it might have been a very pleasant little diversion, though she couldn’t have gotten away with some of the lines that are in the final script. You can be glad that Mae West at least had the chance to be the va-va-voom gal one last time. If you’re a Mae West fan and you know what you’re getting into, give Sextette a chance. If you’re not a Mae West fan and you’re stumbling into Sextette by accident, you may or may not want to stay and watch the show, but remember that you’re not seeing Mae West in her prime. You won’t believe what you’re seeing. We can be glad that instead of playing an axe-murderess or a crime victim as so many of her contemporaries did at the end of their careers, she played the type of role she had made famous.

Mae West’s parting shot: The British are coming!

(Note: I didn’t have the DVD here, so I did my screen captures from YouTube. I apologize that they’re slightly blurry.)

Remembering Barnabas Collins

Jonathan Frid flashes his fangs as Barnabas Collins. I have this photo autographed somewhere at home; I’ll post it when I find it.

My ex (the one who’s still speaking to me) suggested that I write a blog post about Jonathan Frid, the late actor who was best known for portraying Barnabas Collins on the ABC-TV gothic soap opera Dark Shadows. He died on April 13 (Friday the 13th, naturally) from natural causes.

I was born during the latter years of the shows’ original run, so I can’t say I was one of the ones who ran home from school to see the latest spooky happenings at Collinwood. I caught up with Dark Shadows later, when it started running on a local station in the mid-1980s. And I fell under Barnabas’s spell just as everyone else had done. Not to get too melodramatic, but Dark Shadows was the perfect escape for a teenager who was experiencing the usual struggles with finding his place in the world. 

Jonathan Frid was a well-trained Shakespearean actor who graduated from the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts and Yale’s School of Drama. He once appeared on-stage with Katharine Hepburn in Much Ado About Nothing. He had also acted with Ray Milland in the play Hostile Witness. As the legend goes, in 1967, he was about to move out to the West Coast and put his Master’s in Drama from Yale to what seemed like a much more stable purpose: he was going to teach. He was in his mid-forties. The phone rang as he was getting ready to leave; his agent had an audition for him on a soap opera. Dark Shadows was struggling in the ratings; this Gothic soap opera starred Hollywood legend Joan Bennett and had only flirted with the supernatural. The creators felt that a vampire might boost the ratings. He went to the audition, not caring if he got the part or not. Naturally, he got the part, and what had seemed like a short gig on a struggling soap opera as the villain turned him into a media sensation and a heartthrob for millions of teenagers and housewives everywhere. He started out as an evil character (check out these early episodes; they’re quite eerie) but the ratings soared and Barnabas couldn’t die. So, Barnabas became the hero. He was the reluctant vampire who killed only when he had to. And at the same time, he used his arsenal of powers to help the Collins family out of one supernatural scrape after another. Over the years of Dark Shadows, he and his ally, Dr. Julia Hoffman, battled witches, warlocks, werewolves, vampires, a race of creatures out of H.P. Lovecraft, and even the immortal Phoenix. When necessary, Barnabas and Julia even traveled through time.

But while Dark Shadows was entertaining on so many levels, Frid kept you interested in Barnabas. He mirrored the ambivalence and reluctance of his character. Frid was a slow study and would often pause during his scenes, searching for the pages of dialogue he had to memorize every day. Those pauses appeared to be enigmatic and mysterious and made us admire him more. Everyone wanted a cousin Barnabas who could step in and solve any problem, no matter how mighty it seemed. If everything else failed, Barnabas would flash his fangs and place the enemy under his direct control. On top of all this, Frid seemed like a genuinely nice man. This soft-spoken, erudite actor had become a national sensation. He found himself on Bozo’s Big-Top (demonstrating a hula hoop!) and invited to Tricia Nixon’s birthday party at the White House.

After Dark Shadows ended, Frid seemed to flee the spotlight. He made some films (House of Dark Shadows was his film debut), including Oliver Stone’s debut film Seizure and the TV film The Devil’s Daughter with Shelley Winters. He wanted to escape the horror genre, or avoid being typecast, but he couldn’t completely shake off the strong shadow of Barnabas Collins. He was initially reluctant to come to Dark Shadows fan conventions, but finally came around and by all concerned, seemed to enjoy himself. He launched a series of one-man shows where he did literary readings. He also made a stage comeback in Arsenic and Old Lace, playing the role that Boris Karloff had originated in the original stage production. He acted with Jean Stapleton and Marion Ross as the sweetly murderous Brewster sisters. He had a website that was truly amazing; if you wrote to him, you were encouraged to mind your grammatical p’s and q’s. He checked grammar and called you out on it.

I met Jonathan Frid at a Dark Shadows fan convention in Dallas. I wanted to go to this more than anything, and my mom found the resources to get me there. A family friend from church loaded up her van and drove us to 635 & Coit. We had to leave in time for Mom to say goodbye to Dad before he went to work. I was there for only a few hours. Mom stepped aside and let me go from ballroom to ballroom, watching classic episodes and peeking in at a big screen showing of House of Dark Shadows. I wanted to meet Barnabas, and I got my chance when I saw him moving quickly down a hallway with some handlers. I called after him and he stopped. He said that he couldn’t sign my autograph now and that I should come back for the autograph session later that day. I looked heartbroken, I’m sure, and one of his handlers explained that an autograph session was coming up later in the day. I explained that I couldn’t be there. Mr. Frid looked at me and said (a bit sharply), “Why not?” I fumbled over my words, but explained that I was only there by special circumstances and could only be there a few hours. I’m sure my story sounded ridiculous. His face softened and he graciously signed my autograph. I told him how much I enjoyed the show, and he gave me a smile and a wink before he was off again.

So, RIP, Jonathan Frid, and thank you for the role you played in making Dark Shadows such a wonderful escape for so many people. I look forward to seeing you again in Tim Burton’s Dark Shadows film. And when the mood comes upon me, I’ll pop in a DVD and watch you and Julia Hoffman do that voodoo that you do so well.

Watch the Skies!

Spring is definitely here in Texas.

Not only do we have a bumper crop of Bluebonnets along the Interstates (surely to be trampled by lots of bottoms who must get that picture taken), but we also have Spring weather. It has been warm-ish and certainly humid for the past week or so. And today, most of the area got slammed with Spring weather of the severe variety. Tornado warnings rang across North Central Texas today. Major tornadoes touched down in Arlington and in Lancaster (well documented online), and most of the area nervously watched the skies to see if it was necessary to take shelter. In Fort Worth, we mainly got rain, though there were some reports of severe hail. Once I heard that hail was in the forecast, I went out to the parking garage and found a safer haven for Sophia. I wouldn’t have minded if she had gotten a good washing, since she’s a dirty, bawdy girl, but I didn’t want her to get any more dimples, if you know what I mean. A tornado roared up from Joshua, came through Burleson, and move into Arlington. Another tornado in Lancaster tossed around truck trailers as though they were merely playthings. I saw online that the tornado was supposed to come up to the mid-cities area, and I kept my fingers crossed that I’d have a home to which I could return, but it looks like Euless got some rain along with some baseball-sized hail. Tornadoes touched down in Dallas County too, and the storms didn’t really weaken all that much as they pushed eastward. Even after the storms left the immediate D/FW area, Forney, Greenville, and other communities east of here reported tornadoes. From what I’ve heard so far, there has been a great deal of damage in certain areas (Arlington’s mayor has declared a state of emergency), but I haven’t heard reports of massive losses of life, and we can all be grateful for that. Over 100 planes were damaged at Dallas/Fort Worth airport.

I’m not exactly sure where this video was shot. It might have been in the Lancaster area. WFAA is credited with the video.

I'm not exactly sure where this video was taken (this is a still image from that video), but I think it's from the Lancaster area where one of the more violent tornadoes struck today.

I took this still from raw video footage of the tornado that hit Arlington today.

iPad for Art’s Sake

Even though I am adopted, I have picked up traits from my parents. One thing I have picked up from my Dad is a love for gadgets. They fascinate me. I have some interesting gadgets here in FabEuless, but I do not have a tablet computer. No, I do not own an iPad at this time, nor do I own any of its competitors. I had a tablet that I sold to a co-worker because I just didn’t use it. I thought it was a neat toy and initially, I felt it might be a good solution for school, but I really needed a laptop for school. Call me crazy, and I have no doubt you will at some point, but I like to type.  Nay, I love it.

But there is no denying that the iPad is a super-neat gadget, and it has potential that I think has barely been tapped. Apple recently announced the next generation of iPad (in stores March 16) and they are calling the device “resolutionary” because of its super display. It’s supposed to have more pixels than many HD televisions have. I’m looking forward to seeing one in person sometime.

Since the announcement, I kept thinking about those who use the iPad for artwork. With the right apps, a talented artist can create breathtaking digital images on an iPad. Today, I watched a video review of styluses (or styli) that you could use with the iPad for artwork. Most of them were similar in design, but one stood out: a digital paintbrush. It looked like a paintbrush, but each brush had small connectors built into the bristles. This type of stylus lets you “paint” on the iPad as though you are applying paint to a canvas.

Sure, anyone can read books or surf the web on an iPad, but how many use their iPads to create works of art? David Hockney has, to name one of many.

I think that’s amazing.

 

Remember BEST Products?

How many of you remember BEST Products? For those who never knew about BEST Products, or those who have forgotten, BEST was a catalog showroom store. Service Merchandise had the same concept. The showroom contained display models of all kinds of goods, from baby furniture to sporting equipment. Most of the merchandise was not self-service; you filled out a slip of paper and it was pulled from the warehouse in back. BEST, as I remember, had a great electronics department and an extremely busy jewelry department. I worked for BEST in The Settlement for just over a year. Believe it or not, I started out in the sporting goods department. Before too long, I could talk to people about exercise equipment, gun ammunition, and camping equipment. I had a hair-raising experience once when I saw a toddler running around the department with a camping axe held high in his hand. It was a typical retail job in many ways (low pay, long hours) but we generally had fun. I worked all over the store except in the jewelry department. Sometimes I’d man the customer service desk at night, which also meant I got to double as the switchboard operator.

The catalog showroom format really began to wane as we went into the 1990s. They just couldn’t compete with other retailers, and BEST closed its doors around 1996 or so. The White Settlement store had closed long before that. However, something that you might not have known about BEST Products is that nine of the stores were cutting-edge designs from a leading architectural firm. Take a look at the slide show. Have you ever seen stores like this since then? Many of these designs are long gone, I think. The one in Houston (the “crumbling facade” look) has been completely demolished. At the bottom, I’ve included a picture of the store in Hialeah, Florida with a terrarium front.

Fiats in the Movies

Once you start thinking about a car, you usually start seeing it pop up while you’re out driving. I’m not seeing as many Fiats as I would like (though there is another one at work – a grey one) but I’m starting to notice them in movies. I was watching The Omen (1976) recently and I noticed all kinds of Fiats when Gregory Peck and David Warner journeyed to Italy to find out more about Damien’s true identity.

According to the Internet Movie Cars Database, this was a 1964 Fiat 850.

I remember watching Strait-Jacket (1964) and being curious about Diane Baker’s car. I believe it is a Fiat 600, though I’m not completely sure about that. The Fiat 600 had front-opening doors (the hinges were where we normally expect car door handles to be).

Diane Baker and Joan Crawford go on a spree (shopping, not axing) in Diane's cute little Fiat in Strait-Jacket (1964). Photo credit: http://fiat-dv.blogspot.com/2010_10_10_archive.html

Here's a better shot of a Fiat 600 (photo credit: http://www.philseed.com/taxonomy/term/4?page=2)

Hopefully, I’ll start seeing more around town. We have three of them at RadioShack now. Fiat fell short of their anticipated sales volume in 2011, but other Fiat models are heading to the U.S. I think sales will pick up when they start bringing in additional models.

Serious Writing Requires a Typewriter?

Manual typewriter - looks like an early model

I recently read a blog post (I won’t link to it here) that praises the old manual typewriter and suggests that computers might have made us out to be lazy writers. I can’t completely agree with this sentiment, though I can see why the author feels this way.

Sure, computers have made it easier to write. This blog wouldn’t exist without one. And word processors over the years have evolved so that they can be incredibly easy to use. I remember the early days when it took several keystrokes just to bold or italicize a word. Now, I can do that with a COMMAND+B or COMMAND+I. Microsoft Word sets the standard for current word processors and it makes it extremely easy for writers to do almost anything to text: copy it, paste it, move it, spell-check it, format it, or even translate it. Even rudimentary word processors, like the one I’m using to write this blog post (no offense to the folks at WordPress), copy functionality from Microsoft Word.

But would Hemingway have used a word processor? How about Faulkner? Hemingway wrote at a manual typewriter while standing up. Faulkner used several manual typewriters over the years. I don’t know any of these authors well enough to guess. I can imagine that Hemingway probably wouldn’t; being the adventurer that he was, he would have liked the freedom of a manual typewriter. He could put it anywhere and write. He would need just a flat surface and enough paper. Faulkner? I honestly don’t know enough about him. I’d like to think he wouldn’t; surely those tales of his couldn’t come from a sleek, shimmering Macintosh computer loaded with Microsoft Word. But for the most part, these authors used the tools that were available to them.

Some people do prefer manual typewriters. Larry McMurtry (The Last Picture Show, Terms of Endearment) mentioned his Hermes 3000 typewriter when he won awards for the screenplay of Brokeback Mountain. Kinsey Millhone is mighty fond of her manual typewriter in Sue Grafton’s excellent Kinsey Millhone mysteries. This series is set in the 1980s, when word processors were just starting to infiltrate the home. Kinsey uses a Smith-Corona manual typewriter; she likes its portability, efficiency, and frugality. It requires no electricity to operate. She can pack it in her car and type up case notes at the office, at home, or on the road.

I can understand the charm of a manual typewriter. Or almost any typewriter, for that matter. They are irresistible objects for anyone who writes. If I see an IBM Selectric, I long to spool in a sheet of paper and start clattering away. It’s gratifying to hear (and see) that IBM type ball whirling around and punching letters in the ribbon. And I’m impressed to the tips of my toes when I see someone clacking away on a manual typewriter. That takes some serious finger-strength, in case you don’t know. My mom learned to type during her office classes of the 1950s, and she learned mainly on a manual typewriter. In fact, she feels that she types faster on a manual typewriter than an electric machine.

I’m sure — nay, I know  – many modern writers use a word processor. Stephen King wrote a story called “Word Processor of the Gods” many years ago. His novel The Stand, considered by many to be one of his greatest, was originally published with 823 pages. That’s a lot of typing! This recent New York Times article details a scholar’s quest to look at the literary history of word processing, including a desire to find King’s original word processor. It was a Wang, and I’m sure it was much bigger than a breadbox. But, I digress a bit. I’m sure that serious writers labor as much over their writing today than they did when they used typewriters (or quills dipped in ink). I would love to claim the title of a serious writer, but since I cannot, I must make educated guesses. And my educated guess is that serious writers use the same discipline when sliding their fingers quickly over a computer keyboard as they did when they had to hammer those same fingers on the keys of an Olympia manual typewriter many years ago. Good writing still requires tremendous effort. Bad writing — even when it looks polished and spell-checked — is still bad writing.

What word processors have done is to make it easier to put words down. It doesn’t make it easier to write. The blank page or the blank screen is still intimidating. However, I will share some feelings with the blogger who inspired my post. You do have to make a greater effort when writing with a typewriter; certainly, in a physical sense. But there’s a mental side of it as well. I can let my thoughts spill out on the screen with a word processor and if I don’t like what I have written, I can go back and fix it. It’s much more challenging with a typewriter; even a correcting Selectric can get bogged down if you want to take out a whole line of text. You have to retype it, and retyping encourages rewriting. And that is supposed to be when true writing begins.

Dreaming of Joan Crawford

Joan Crawford in the romantic drama "Humoresque" (1946-Warner Bros)

I’ve long been a fan of Joan Crawford. I think it started when I first read Mommie Dearest and then saw the 1981 film with Faye Dunaway. Something about this Joan Crawford person fascinated me, and it led me to learn more about her and her era in Hollywood. I’ve read all the books and I’ve seen most of her films repeatedly. She wasn’t a fantastic actress, but she’s really much better than people believed her to be. She wasn’t nearly as theatrical as her contemporary and arch-rival Bette Davis, but I won’t even go into those deep waters. She really had to live those parts, since she didn’t have a lot of technique to hide behind, but that also made her seem more natural. Of course, when you think of films like Queen Bee (1955-Columbia) or Strait-Jacket (1964-Columbia), it gives you pause.

Since I know so much (or believe that I know so much) about her, she has turned up often in my dreams. They are almost always bizarre dreams, because it usually seems so incongruous to see her there. For instance, I remember a dream from long ago. I was at my parents’ home and suddenly, there she was, marching through my parents’ living room. They didn’t seem at all surprised to see Joan Crawford marching through their living room, and my dad called out to her conversationally, “Well, hi, Joan!” She smiled and said, “Well, hi, Neil. How are you?” And Dad told her he was having some digestive problems, and she commiserated before marching on to her next destination. While this exchange was odd enough, Joan was a moving black and white image, like those creepy commercials on television that incorporate celebrities from the past. In this dream, she looked like she did in her early 1950s movies, such as The Damned Don’t Cry (1950-Warner Bros). Last night, I dreamt of her again. Robert and I were hanging out at the Lindsey compound and my mom reminded me that Joan Crawford was flying into D/FW airport and we mustn’t forget to go pick her up. Well, Robert and I got busy with other things and wouldn’t you just know, we totally forgot about her. I could imagine Joan Crawford being in a rage about being left at the airport. But even though I knew I was supposed to meet her later, I wasn’t all that worried. She showed up while I was at work, since she was there to deliver a talk. She was extremely friendly and gracious to everyone, and signed autographs left and right. She greeted me warmly and made no mention of our faux pas of forgetting her at the airport. Again, she looked like a moving black and white image. In fact, when I would look at her, she would freeze, as though she were posing in a glamorous photo shoot. This was the Joan Crawford of the 1960s; a more mature glamour, with upswept hair and glittering diamonds. She was friendly and she even re-signed a photo that already bore her signature. She pulled out an eraser and said she was going to do it again properly.

I don’t know what these dreams say about my overall mental state. There must be some creativity at work somewhere in my subconscious mind if I can dream up whoppers like these. If I dream of Joan Crawford again, I’ll be sure to let you know.

The Legend of Lylah Clare (1968)

Kim Novak opens a door into the past in "Lylah Clare" (1968)

“Overnight, she became a star. Over many nights, she became a legend.” Tagline for The Legend of Lylah Clare (1968).

Among all of the sex symbols of the 1950s and 1960s, Kim Novak is one of the most interesting. She was known as the “Lavender Blonde” with a husky voice and a not-quite-there quality, yet she had more of a presence than other blondes of the era. She was intelligent and strong, and fought for better roles. Her work was often savaged at the time, yet her acting in retrospect is often quite good. She worked well with Hitchcock in Vertigo (1958), superbly playing a difficult dual role. Her performance for Hitchcock probably led to her being cast in Robert Aldrich’s perverse Hollywood Gothic melodrama, The Legend of Lylah Clare (1968). This movie was recently released through the Warner Archive collection on a remastered DVD.

In this film, Novak plays another dual role. She’s Elsa Brinkmann, an aspiring actress discovered by an agent as being a dead ringer for Lylah Clare, a Dietrich-esque movie star who died mysteriously years before at the height of her fame. Novak is brought to the attention of Lylah Clare’s Svengali, Lewis Zarken (Peter Finch). Zarken is living in seclusion, not having worked since Lylah Clare’s mysterious death. He lives in a Hollywood mansion with Rossella (Rossella Falk), a former Miss Italy who was Lylah Clare’s dialogue coach. Rossella is a heroin addict; she also loved Lylah in some fashion. When Zarken meets Elsa Brinkmann, he realizes that she might be suitable as Lylah Clare, particularly when Elsa seems to start channeling her. While watching Lylah’s film of Anna Christie, Elsa starts reciting the dialogue, even though this is the first time she has seen the film. Zarkan decides to mold Elsa as Lylah and present her in his biopic about the life and death of Lylah Clare. Along the way, all kinds of Hollywood characters are introduced, obviously based on real-life characters. This includes a boorish and bombastic studio head obviously modeled on Harry Cohn (played to the rafters by Ernest Borgnine), a vicious gossip columnist apparently based on a combination of Hedda Hopper and Radie Harris (played with viperish elan by film’s original Vera Charles, Coral Browne), and a lesbian acting coach (possibly based on Natasha Lytess, who coached Marilyn Monroe early in her career).

Rossella shows her affection for Lylah Clare. This element of lesbianism might have helped the film earn an R rating.

If this film had been a simple, straight-forward drama, I don’t think we could have ever forgiven it. Fortunately, The Legend of Lylah Clare is part Hollywood gothic melodrama and part camp classic. The film does seem to go all over the place at times, and the dialogue is often so stilted that it induces hoots of laughter. Aldrich’s bizarre decision to overdub Novak when she is “possessed” by Lylah Clare with a deep, guttural voice is but one of the outre touches that adorn this film. Coral Browne’s columnist enters a party wearing a rose in her leg brace! I guess if you’re going to have an infirmity, you might as well do it in style. In one scene, Peter Finch and Kim Novak are strolling in the garden, and Novak is walking around in a lacy brassiere. This had no set-up; all of a sudden, Novak and Finch are in the garden, and Novak has her blouse around her neck like a demented scarf.

Last night, I dreamt I went gardening in my Maidenform bra.

The remastered edition showcases the movie in its full Metrocolor splendor. Novak is ravishing; some feel that she was at the height of her beauty in this film. Unfortunately, her performance is undercut by the dubbed voice when she switched into Lylah mode. According to an interview in The Washington Post to promote the restoration of Vertigo, Novak said that she was humiliated when she saw the finished film, since Aldrich hadn’t told her about the overdubbing. Finch is perfect as the driven and egotistical Lewis Zarken who can’t help destroying the thing he loves. Browne uses her incomparable voice to deliver her acidic barbs as Molly Luther. One wonders – what if Joan Crawford had played this role? This could have been an interesting follow-up to her performance in The Best of Everything (1959). After the experience on Hush…Hush, Sweet Charlotte (1965), Aldrich probably wouldn’t go near her, and she probably wouldn’t have given him the time of day. Borgnine blasts through the screen at you and lets you see some of what makes Barney Sheean tick. Valentina Cortese is chic and amusing as the Countess Bozo Bedoni, who serves as the costume designer. But all of this is almost undone by the cliched and hamfisted script.

Needless to say, The Legend of Lylah Clare is entertaining from beginning to end. The end catches you off-guard, since it seems to be much deeper and multi-layered than the rest of the film. I won’t spoil it for you, but the last couple of minutes are not only a fitting coda to the movie, but make an acerbically memorable comment on American culture. Don’t miss it.

UPDATE: Thanks for all the wonderful comments about this blog post. I’ve learned so much about this fascinating movie. I found a few items online about the original 1963 television movie that starred Tuesday Weld and Alfred Drake.

Press photo showing Tuesday Weld in the original TV version of "The Legend of Lylah Clare" (1963).

Item from an Ottawa paper for "The Legend of Lylah Clare" (1963).