sinatra's big, beautiful mess

Frank Sinatra holding court between scenes on the set of 20th Century-Fox's very curious "Can-Can"

No one would ever mistake Fox's loopy, misguided 1960 version of Cole Porter's "Can-Can" for a good movie, but it is not totally without its charms (most notably, Porter's score, or what's left with it) - or without a certain morbid curiosity. Namely, how did it end up so bad?

That's the first of several questions which have made this film unintentionally fascinating for five decades now. Of course, the most pressing questions connected with the film are (1) why was "I Love Paris," the pick of Porter's scored, scuttled at seemingly the 11th hour, and (2) who exactly made this dubious decision? The foolish excision of "I Love Paris" - and the apparent disappearance of the footage - pretty much defines "Can-Can's" sad, wavering road to the screen.

The play opened in 1953 with Lilo in the lead as La Môme Pistache; Fox's Darryl Zanuck purchased the film rights in August of 1954, with the intention of making it with French star Jeanmarie and Gwen Verdon (who appeared as Claudine in the Broadway production). Zanuck hired Nunnally Johnson to adapt Abe Burrows' wonderful stage book and direct.

Johnson's script, dated August 27, 1955 and available from Script City, is highly faithful to the Broadway production, retaining all of Porter's score.

When Johnson dropped out, the film languished at Fox, with both Claude Binyon and Henry Ephron taking turns dickering with the script, and with Dick Powell and Vincente Minnelli, among others, as potential directors who came and went. Then on April 22, 1958, Fox issued a press release, announcing that "Can-Can" was being put into production as a vehicle for Marilyn Monroe (her first film for the studio since 1956's "Bus Stop"), with Cary Grant and Maurice Chevalier named as possible co-stars.

This incarnation of "Can-Can" got only that far - as a press release sent to entertainment editors. The film was never made.

Enter Frank Sinatra, who acted in the film under a contractual obligation required by 20th Century Fox after walking off the set of Rodgers and Hammerstein's "Carousel" in 1954. Sinatra was apparently hesitant, not being exactly a good fit for the property, but Fox prevailed and lured him into the picture by having Charles Lederer (who nimbly adapted "The Front Page" into "His Girl Friday" for director Howard Hawks) create a new character for Frank to play - a lawyer/scamp named François Durnais - and by (1) paying him $200,000, along with a percentage of the film's profits and (2) making the actor a partner in the production.

His Suffolk Productions would oversee the film in tandem with Jack Cummings Productions. Sinatra took the hands-on approach, bringing in Dorothy Kingsley, who had tailored "Pal Joey" for him, to completely revamp the stage script. Kingsley not only cut most of the songs but also altered who would sing them. Songs that were sung by females on stage, were given to male characters in the film, and vice versa.

Sinatra also exhibited bad judgment by recruiting a seriously miscast Shirley MacLaine, his co-star in Minnelli's "Some Came Running," to play the female lead - renamed Simone Pistache for the film. So far, so ... bad.

Shirley is a trained dancer but is not exactly - how shall I put this? - light on her feet. Reviewing the film, New York Times movie critic Bosley Crowther, who genuinely disliked her in the film, diplomatically called her shrill performance "undignified" and remarked about her being "heavy-footed, groping and galluping" throughout the film's Garden of Eden ballet.

Anyway, her addition to the production meant the untimely departure of the second female lead, Barrie Chase, who was hired to play Claudine. Chase, who had a bit in Sinatra's "Pal Joey" (she was one of two ballerinas who helped undress Kim Novak during her strip routine), was a protégé of the film's choreographer, Hermès Pan.

Chase was Fred Astaire's dancing partner on his wonderful '50s TV specials which were choreographed by Pan.

Chase bolted the production when Sinatra handed most of her dance numbers over to MacLaine (La Môme/Simone was not a dancing role on stage), a detail confirmed both in the film's DVD liner notes and by Shirley MacLaine herself in a piece carrying her byline in Newsweek's special Sinatra Memorial tribute issue (28 May, 1998).

Speaking directly to Sinatra in the piece, she wrote: "You strong-armed Twentieth Century-Fox to make 'Can-Can' because you thought I should do a musical. And you had them combine the two female leads into a single character so people could see more of what I could do."

Most of this statement is untrue: Sinatra didn't strongarm Fox; it was the other way around. Also, the character of Claudine was watered-down but still very much exists in the film. It was eventually recast with Juliet Prowse, who replaced Chase - who made a wise decision in retrospect.

Pan's choreography is the film's most envaulable feature, hands-down. This was an especially productive time for Pan. In the space of about 15 years, he choreographed such high-profile film musicals as "Kiss Me, Kate," "Silk Stockings," "Pal Joey," "Porgy and Bess," "Flower Drum Song," "My Fair Lady," "Finian's Rainbow," "Lost Horizon," "Darling Lili" and, uncredited, the "Midas Touch" number from "Bells Are Ringing."

But wait!

I should stop here and confess that, for me, Sinatra always exhibited exquisite good taste, particularly musically. I'm a fan. But in the case of "Can-Can," both his decisions and motivation were fuzzy at best. One questionable decision was bringing on board his house orchestrator Nelson Riddle to arrange the musical numbers; Somehow, Sinatra and Riddle managed to insert the anachronistic "ring-a-ding-ding-ding" into the lyric of Porter's "C'est Magnifique." Which brings us to "I Love Paris"...

Reviewed prior to its release by Variety on Friday, 1 January, 1960, "Can-Can" ran 134 minutes - a scant running time for a roadshow musical, not including either the film's Overture or its Entr'acte - but it did include the song, "I Love Paris," as a duet which offered the iconic pairing Sinatra and Chevalier (a holdover from the film's original conception).

By the time the film opened in New York on 9 March, 1960, its running time was reduced to 131 minutes. (An apt Howard Thompson wrote the New York Times capsule that the film seemed "more like Hoboken than Paris.")

Those missing three minutes contained the "I Love Paris" number.

The song is heard fleetingly over the main credits, but the sequence in which it was sung by Sinatra and Chevalier was dropped immediately prior to the film's release without any explanation. Why?

The length of the film shouldn't have been a problem. It's a relatively short movie. But that seems to be the reason, as irrational as that seems.

The only known still in existence of Frank Sinatra and Maurice Chevalier in the excised "I Love Paris" number from "Can-Can"

Greg M. Pasqua writes on Amazon.com: "It was sung in the club just before the engagement party scene on the boat in Act Two. It was sung as a performed song with Sinatra singing from the stage. Fox determined it slowed the film down, so they cut it before the film was released. You can spot the change in continuity where the song would have occurred."

Prior to the film's New York opening, the magazine section of The New York Times published an advancer on "Can-Can" in its 21 February, 1960 edition, which included the above still from the number.

Given the importance of both the song to the show and Sinatra to the production, is it unfair to conclude that Frank had something to do with the song's deletion? Exacerbating matters is the implication that the footage, which has been missing since 1960, no longer exists.

The duet, of course, can be heard on the Capitol soundtrack album (and there's a slightly longer track of it on the "Frank Sinatra in Hollywood" CD set). Ah, yes, that whacky soundtrack album...

For some bizarre reason, the songs are not listed in chronological order on the soundtrack but, for lack of a better expression, are scrambled, with the Entr'acte listed as the first track (!)

Back on Amazon.com, Mark Andrew Lawrence took the trouble to put the songs in their proper order, so that as Lawrence puts it, "the program flows beautifully from one track to the next." Below is his rearrangement to parallel the order in which each song is performed in the film (the paranthetical numbers indicate how they actually appear on the Capitol soundtrack); the Overture, the fade-out "I Love Paris" choral and exit music (as well as the music for the "Apache" dance and the "Garden of Eden" ballet), incidentally, were never included on the soundtrack.

The whole thing has the aroma of satogage. But why?

1. Main Title/"I Love Paris"/"Montmart" (#7)
2. "Maidens Typical of France" (#9)
3. "C'est Magnifique" (#8)
4. "Live and Let Live" (#4)
5. "You Do Something to Me" (#5)
6. "Let's Do It" (#6)
7. "It's All Right with Me" (#2)
8. Entr'acte (#1)
9. "I Love Paris" (#11)
10. "Come Along with Me" (#3)
11. "Just One of Those Things" (#10)
12. "Can-Can" (#12)

One observation/correction: I took the liberty of adjusting Lawrence's listing of songs because it has Sinatra's "It's All Right with Me" coming after the Entr'acte, when in actuality, it leads directly into the intermission. Also, if what Pasqua says about the placement of "I Love Paris" in the film is accurate, it opened the second act of the film, coming before both MacLaine's comic "Come Along with Me" routine and the arty "Garden of Eden" ballet that was staged at the Bal De Paradis' Four Arts Ball.

Speaking of Porter's songs, for the movie version, the makers seriously tampered with the score, adding "Let's Do It," "Just One of Those Things" and "You Do Something to Me," from other Cole Porter shows.

Eliminated were seven titles, including "Never Give Anything Away," "I Am in Love," "If You Loved Me Truly," "Never, Never Be an Artist," the lyric to "Can-Can" and the most regrettable, the haunting "Allez-Vous-En," although its melody is used behind the film's apache dance routine.

Oh, yes, and at the risk of repeating myself, "I Love Paris" was deleted.

Did you know that?

Note in Passing: At the outset here, I mention that the film is not without its charms, chief of which is the obvious fun that Sinatra and MacLaine are having. If only that fun were contagious. But more to the point, there's Tom Keogh's superb titles design - ome of the movie's most laudable feature. Done in dazzling primary colors and with a deep bow to Henri Marie Raymond de Toulouse-Lutrec, Keogh's titles promise a great film that never really follows. All of this only makes one wish that "Can-Can" was a better movie, truly worthy of the treatment that Fox lavished on it.

"vertigo"/'marnie," fizzy twins

Although it's never been noted, "Vertigo" (1958) and "Marnie" (1964) - for my money, the two crown jewels in Alfred Hitchcock's matchless canon - are companion pieces. They are, in many ways, the same film.

These twins are deeply psychological studies - leisurely, seductive narratives with both James Stewart and Sean Connery as obsessive, controlling men, and Kim Novak and Tippi Hendren as the women whom they respectively ensnare, obstensibly for their protection. Or is it the women who ensnare the men? It doesn't matter. What's clear is that the person being rescued and saved must first be vanquished, conquered.

In "Marnie," Diane Baker fills the curiously ambivalent role that Barbara Bel Geddes has in "Vertigo," only with a dash of tangy malevolence. Irrevocably linking the films are the two gloriously symphonic, strikingly similar scores penned by Bernard Hermann (pictured left), both of which seem driven by the very madness that permeate Hitchcock's films.

"Vertigo" and "Marnie" also somewhat share the same history in that both were received indifferently by critics when each debuted. Both were belatedly rediscovered and redefined, finding appreciative support - "Vertigo" more so than "Marnie." I remain hopeful that, one day, "Marnie" will be seen as the masterwork that it is.

Turner Classic Movies will be airing the two titles during its all-day Hitchcock marathon on New Year's Eve - 31 December. "Marnie" screens at 9:15 p.m. (est) and "Veritgo" will be shown at 3:30 p.m. (est).

Uncork the champagne early and enjoy.

forgotten coppola

How one responds to the latter-day Francis Ford Coppola reveals, I suppose, what one likes about and expects from movies. Of late, Coppola hasn't engaged moviegoers, not even the art-house set, and has enthused critics in only a mild and often begrudging way.

His 2009 "Tetro" is his second consecutive movie to come on the scene with a whiff of anticipation, only to be greeted with a shrug and then promply forgottened. To the best of my knowledge, this aggressively arty, often painful pseudo-autobiographical film hasn't made one year-end 10 Best list. None. Nada. Almost the same, exact fate was experienced by Coppola's previous film, 2007's "Youth Without Youth," which was his first directorial effort in a decade (the last being 1997's "The Rainmaker").

But the chilling implications of "Tetro" cannot be denied - even its redemptive ending offers no surcease. A powerful, if somewhat limited, film, it should not be allowed to descend into oblivion.

"It's Complicated," or "Getting Took..."

Baldwin bulldozes Streep in "It's Complicated"

"He's a taker. Some people take, some people get took - and they know they're getting took - and there's nothing they can do about it."

-Shirley MacLaine in Billy Wilder's "The Apartment" (1960)

In preamble to commenting on her new film, "It's Complicated," I should note that I am a big fan of Nancy Meyers'. Huge. Meyers is often lumped in with Nora Ephron because of the shared subjects that they pursue, but Meyers is the better director. Hands-down.

OK, with that out of the way, I have to say that I think there's a disconnect between the movie that Meyers thinks she made and what actually transpires in "It's Complicated."

The film is only marginally about an older woman (Meryl Streep), attractive and single, who not only suddenly finds herself balancing two men (Alec Baldwin and Steve Martin) but also having an affair with the ex-husband (Baldwin) she lost to a younger mistress 10 years earlier.

She's gone full circle, see? Now, the wife is the mistress.

That may sound like a vaguely queasy premise, but what "It's Complicated" is really about is much more disturbing.

Step back and block out Streep and you'll see that the movie is really a strange - and strangely empathetic - tribute to a pig, namely the narcissistic ex and his self-obsessed bad behavior. Throughout most of the film, Baldwin's character gets what he wants when he wants it.

At one point, Baldwin pantomimes the words, "I'm so happy," to Streep. He looks perfectly content. She doesn't. He's a taker. She gets took.

This could be the theme of a tough dark comedy, but "It's Complicated" isn't that comedy. It isn't nearly complicated - or tough - enough.

Alec Baldwin may get third billing here but he's clearly the film's lead player, having more scenes than either Streep or Martin, and devouring each one in a morbidly obese way. To say that he chews on the scenery would be an understatement. And so, almost by default, good, gray Martin becomes a fast friend because he's so quiet, restrained and reserved.

Less is more, Alec. Hail, subtlety!

One other thing... On the basis of this film and two of her previous ventures, "Somethings Got to Give" (2003) and "The Holiday" (2006), Meyers has become a specialist of what one wag calls "architecture porn" - I prefer "home porn" - movies that not only showcase but wildly fetishize absurdly extravagant homes with their expensive, magazine-pretty accoutrements. The "House Beautiful" homes in her films gleam and sparkle as no homes in real life do.

Nit-Picking: Martin plays an architect in "It's Complicated." The film opens with Meryl Streep and family helping youngest child Zoe Kazan move out of the family house. Streep reflects that all her kids are gone now and her older daughter Caitlin Fitzgerald asks if she's afraid to sleep alone there. A couple of times later in the film, reference is made to her empty nest status. Given that, why on earth is Streep's character having an addition constructed on what seems to be an already huge house? I know this is only a movie, but it doesn't make sense. Shouldn't she be downsizing or moving? Wasn't there a better, more logical way to introduce Martin into her life other than using architecture?

Advice to Streep: Go with Steve. Definitely.

"nine"/nein

Nicole Kidman coddles petulant Daniel Day-Lewis in "Nine"

Rob Marshall's "Nine" is pretty much what I expected - which wasn't much. Full disclosure: For some reason, I consciously avoided both Broadway incarnations of the musical play from which it's been adapted.

Adapted by way of Fellini's “8½,” natch.

This isn't a movie musical, per se, but something akin to one of those glitzy, psychedelic TV variety-show specials in the 1970s, with star Daniel Day-Lewis acting as host, ushering each elephantine production number in and out, in assembly-line fashion. And "elephantine" is the operative word for these soulless numbers. Marshall has calculated every single song-and-dance routine here as a whopping, in-your-face showstopper.

There are no modest, quiet numbers in "Nine" - amazing, considering that the film's original source material is all about ... introspection.

Actually, in terms of Fellini, "Nine" is much closer to that old SNL skit, Tom Schiller's hilarious Fellini-send-up, "La Dolce Gilda." And "La Dolce Gilda" is better.

And more accurate.

Gilda Radner (with Dan Aykroyd as "Marcello") plays a paparazzi-beseiged actress in Tom Schiller's spoof "La Dolce Gilda"

Also, why would a choreographer of all people hyper-edit his dance sequences into jarring slivers? I could see a filmmaker with no deep appreciation of dance doing that, but a choreographer? Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire must be roiling. I miss the days when one could savor a dancer in full frame/full body, doing his/her thing - when you saw the length of a dancer's body in movement, in minimally-cut takes.

Cotillard, with Day-Lewis, excels in Marshall's frenzied, soulless fantasia.

As artistically blocked filmmaker Guido, Day-Lewis is strangely resistible as a man who also allegedly drives many women to obsessive distraction. (We have to suspend disbelief about both his filmmaking and sexual talents.) But I do like the actresses here, even though they are all required to bump and grind their numbers. Particularly memorable and affecting are Penélope Cruz and Marion Cotillard - Cotillard being the only one who actually acts her songs, bringing an emotional life to them. And what songs! (Not to be taken as a compliment. I mean, those rhymes - "in his head"/"instead.")

Cotillard, like the others, isn't spared Marshall's fetishizing. She's been assigned a gratuitous strip titled "Take If Off" that my colleague Carrie Rickey of The Philadelphia Inquirer aptly compares to Ritz Hayworth's "Put the Blame on Mame" number from Charles Vidor's "Gilda" (1946) . But Marshall also references Natalie Wood here: Cotillard's hairstyle and dress and her coy removal of a glove are direct quotes from Mervyn LeRoy's "Gypsy" (1962). Initially. Then all the slithering sets in.

Hudson in her glitzy Big Number

The other actresses just sing - and move like big animatronic toys - making no impression. All except poor Kate Hudson who, unfortunately, stands out for a dubious reason: She seems to be channelling Ann-Margret (in her deranged "Viva Las Vegas" period) as she jumps up and down maniacally and shouts out the lyrics to something called “Cinema Italiano.”

And one Ann-Margert is quite enough for me.

The largely downbeat reviews parceled out to "Nine" - at least by the major film critics (led by A.O. Scott in The New York Times) - contrast sharply with the secondary pre-Oscar nominations awards and citations (Golden Globes, the SAGs, Critics' Choice, etc.) that have come its way.

This is nothing new. There's a history of questionable films being honored before the bad reviews come in. And it always reflects poorly on those eager award-givers. They've generously given "Nine" the same benefit of doubt that Rob Marshall expects us to extend to Guido.

Note in Passing: As a devoted movie-musical fan, there was a time when I'd rush out to buy the attending soundtrack album of each new film musical. Well, I've managed to restrain myself lately, passing on the recordings (as well as DVDs) of the film versions of "Dreamgirls," "The Phantom of the Opera," "Rent" and "The Producers," all blurs now.

Alas, "Nine" has joined this august group.

the movie year. 2009. unannotated.

• "Inglorious Basterds" (Quentin Tarantino) / 1
• "Up in the Air" (Jason Reitman) / 2
• "Gake no eu no Ponyo" (Hayao Miyazaki) / 3
• "The Hurt Locker" (Kathryn Bigelow) / 4
• "A Serious Man" (Ethan and Joel Coen) / 5
• "The Girlfriend Experience" (Steven Soderbergh) / 6
• "Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire" (Lee Daniels) / 7
• "Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call - New Orleans" (Werner Herzog) / 8
• "Brothers" (Jim Sheridan) / 9
• "Coco Avant Chanel" (Anne Fontaine) / 10
• "Whatever Works" (Woody Allen)
• "Les plages d'Agnès" (Agnès Varda)
• "State of Play" (Kevin Macdonald)
• "Me and Orson Welles" (Richard Linklater)
• "The Hangover" (Todd Phillips)/"I Love You, Man" (John Hamburg)
  
  

cinema obscura sighting: Edmund Goulding's "Mardi Gras" (1958)

Where, oh where, are Pat Boone's movies? Well, one of them - one of the best - has been plucked from studio-shelf obscurity by 20th Century-Fox:

Edmund Goulding's terrific "Mardi Gras" from 1958 gets a rare showing on the studio's Fox Movie Channel at 2 p.m. (est) on Wednesday, 13 January.

Alas, it will be a fullscreen showing of the CinemaScope feature, but pan-and-scan is better than nothing. This is one of many Boone films that Fox has not bothered to release on home entertainment in any form.

So where's the gratitude?

An early contract player at the studio, Boone was a major cash cow for Fox during the 1950s. What's odd is that most of the films of Elvis Presley, Boone's polar-opposite counterpart, have long been available on home entertainment and have been shown endlessly on Turner Classic Movies.

And let's face it, Elvis' titles, with the exception of two or three, are fairly ... awful. Boone's movies are actually better, particularly his first three titles for Fox which are more than deserving of a boxed set.

Those first three films would be Henry Levin's "Bernadine" and "April Love" (both 1957) and Goulding's ensemble musical, "Mardi Gras."

While "Bernadine" and "April Love" are modest, diverting entertainments, "Mardi Gras" works as a great, full-fledged movie musical, replete with a varied song score and fine choreography by Bill Foster. The plot (not that much unlike "Bernadine's" - which I'll get to later) is about school guys - in this case, military cadets (played by Boone, Dick Sargent, Tommy Sands and Gary Crosby) - who aim to attract a French movie starlet (Christine Carère, a delightful, if sadly fleeting, screen presence at the time) to their end-of-the-year ball. Everyone converges in New Orleans, where the movie queen is promoting a new movie and where the cadets are participating in the Mardi Gras festivites.

Lionel Newman (brother of legendary composer-scorer Alfred Newman and uncle of composers Randy, David and Thomas Newman) wrote the nimble score, which includes the title song, "I'll Remember Tonight," "Bourbon Street Blues," "That Man," "What Stonewall Jackson Said," "Just Like The Pioneers," "Bigger Than All Of Texas" and the showstopping "Loyalty," cleverly staged in a locker room shower. The traditional "Shenandoah," sung by Sands, was also utilized

Rounding out the cast are the invaluable Sheree North, Barrie Chase (who does a comic striptease), Jennifer West and ace character actors Fred Clark and Geraldine Wall. Jeffrey Hunter and Robert Wagner, who were making "In Love and War" with North at the time (also on the Fox lot) put in cameo appearances.

Carère, who made her American film debut in Jean Negulesco's "That Certain Smile" (1958), would appear in one more American film - Raoul Walsh's "A Private's Affair" (1959), also with Gary Crosby - before heading back to France.

"Mardi Gras," of all Pat Boone films, deserves a DVD showcase.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Boone made a credible film debut in "Bernadine," based on the Mary Chase play and augmented by some popular songs of the time (the title song and "Love Letters in the Sand," among them). It's about a group of high-school guys and a fictitious girl named Bernadine - the "perfect girl" - who they want to prove really exists. Such veteran film actors as Janet Gaynor, Dean Jagger and Walter Abel are on hand to fortify newbie Boone, and the young supporting cast includes Terry Moore, James Drury, Dick Sargent (billed as Richard) and Ronnie Burns (son of George Burns and Gracie Allen).

The affable "April Love" is a remake of Henry Hathaway's 1944 film, "Home in Indiana" (based on the novel by George Agnew Chamberlain and utilizing the same screenplay by Winston Miller), about a delinquent city boy forced to do time with relatives in a rural area, stirring things up. (Actually, Herbert Ross's "Footloose" of 1984 could have easily come from the same source.)

Boone plays the bad boy and he's effectively teamed opposite tomboy Shirley Jones. Again, there's an ace supporting cast here - Jeanette Nolan, Arthur O'Connell, Matt Crowley (not to be confused with playwright Mart Crowley) and the sublime, criminally neglected Dolores Michaels.

And, while we're at it, where the heck is Norman Taurog's "All Hands on Deck" (1961), with Barbara Eden and Buddy Hackett, one of the last films Boone made for Fox? How about it, Fox? Put them on DVD already.

turner this month - bravo!

Ageless Bogie at 110, still with cigarette in hand

In one of its most ambitious programming feats, Turner Classic Movies has scheduled 65 - count 'em - 65 Humphrey Bogart vehicles airing every Wednesday throughout the month in celebration of what would have been his 110th birthday. But, as usual, there's much more - and, as usual, all times are est.

1 Dec. – British director Mike Newell is presented with a night of his own with screenings of “Enchanted April” (1991) at 8 p.m., “Four Weddings and a Funeral” (1994) at 10 p.m. and “Amazing Grace and Chuck” (1987) at midnight 2 Dec., followed by “Dance with a Stranger” (1985) at 2 a.m.

4 Dec. - Robert Stevenson’s seminal dog movie, “Old Yeller” (1958), airs at 6 a.m. and, this time, take note of canine star Spike's viscious fight scenes with a bear at the beginning and a wolf near the end of the film. They look like the real thing and, in those days, before there was any enlightenment about the treatment of animals in films, it probably was. Not surprisingly, Spike receives no screen credit, even though he is the title star. The good old days...

The divine Hepburn modeling all the potential costumes designed by Cecil Beaton for the Ascot Gavotte races sequence in Cukor's
"My Fair Lady"

5 Dec. – Delbert Mann’s “Fitzwilly” (1967), known as "The One with the Fuzz" while in production, stars Dick Van Dyke as the resourceful butler of Edith Evans. It screens at 12 p.m. and repeats on 10 Dec. at 10 p.m., and if you catch either showing, look out for a very young Sam Waterston as a cabbie named Oliver.

Later in the day, at 5 p.m., George Cukor’s “My Fair Lady” (1964) gets what seems to be its monthly run on Turner, but who's complaining? It's great. Almost perfect - except for the souless singing voice that comes out of Audrey Hepburn's mouth. It belongs to Marni Nixon, natch - the bane of '60s film musicals. "Lady" repeats 22 Dec. at 8 p.m., in tandem with "Pygmalion," the George Bernard Shaw play/film that inspired it.

6 Dec. – Charles Vidor’s “Hans Christian Anderson” (1952), scheduled for 10 a.m., offers the playful, pliable Danny Kaye in the title role, a fabulous Frank Loesser score (which matches "My Fair Lady" in terms of breakout hits) and the exquisite ballerina Zizi Jeanmaire, pictured below with Kaye.
11 Dec. – Turner has sscheduled atypical holiday-oriented titles that could be lumped under the title, Oddball Christmas. Primary among them is Frank Tashlin’s delightfully antic “Susan Slept Here” (1954), starring Dick Powell and Debbie Reynolds, that airs at 2 a.m. and repeats 13 Dec. at 2 p.m. and 25 Dec. at 6 p.m.

Less festive but no less enjoyable is this Edmund O’Brien trio: Ida Lupino’s “The Bigamist” (1953), airing at 3:45 p.m., followed by Rudolph Mate’s “D.O.A.” (1950) at 5:15 p.m. and Lupino's “The Hitch-Hiker” (1953) at 6:45 p.m.

On stage, James Goldman's "The Lion in Winter" was actually a comedy in period costumes; on screen, it was strictly a prestige pic and Oscar bait

12 Dec. – With Katharine Hepburn and Peter O'Toole starring, Anthony Harvey’s “The Lion in Winter” (1968), based on James Goldman's play, was an Oscar-entitled entertainment. On stage, however, with Rosemary Harris and Robert Preston in the leads, is was something less pretentious - a marital comedy with heavy costumes. It airs at 5:30 p.m.

13 Dec. – Dalton Trumbo’s “Johnny Got His Gun” (1971), an anti-war film at its most naked, shows at 10 p.m. Timothy Bottoms, hot off of "The Last Picture Show," stars.

15 Dec. – Cluadio Guzman’s affecting indie, “The Runaway” (1961), teaming a game Cesar Romero with a kid and a dog, gets an infrequent TV showing at 3:15 p.m.

The playbill for the stage version of Tennessee Williams' "Period of Adjustment," starring James Daly, Barbara Baxley, Robert Webber and Rosemary Murphy in the roles played on film by Anthony Francisa, Jane Fonda, Jim Hutton and Lois Nettleton.

18 Dec. – Oddall Christmas continues with a screening of George Roy Hill’s first feature, “Period of Adjustment” (1962), based on the Tennessee Williams play that Hill also helmed on stage. See it at 1:30 a.m. and again on repeat 24 Dec. at 6 p.m. It's something of an unhearalded treat.

For me and me alone, Katharine Hepburn was something of an overrated actress but in George Stevens’ sweet and observant “Alice Adams” (1935), she had her best role and gave one of her greatest performances, living up to her rep. Turner will screen it at 7:30 a.m. Later in the day, David Hugh Jones’ “84 Charing Cross Road” (1986), with Anthony Hopkins and Anne Bancroft, airs at 8 p.m. With that pedigree, this film should be better known.

O'Hara in Frank Borzage's pirate flick, "The Spanish Main"

19 Dec. - Frank Borzage’s “The Spanish Main” (1945), at 8 a.m., is the film that years later prevented Maureen O'Hara from nabbing the role for which she was made - as Anna Leonowens in the film of Rodgers and Hammerstein's "The King and I." Richard Rodgers reportedly didn't want a "lady pirate" mucking up his beloved property. Apparently, he had a very good memory and remembered "The Spanish Main." Sad because O'Hara had the right background, looks and temperament for the role and could sing. Instead the role went to Deborah Kerr who was ghost-voiceced by, yes, Marni Nixon.

20 Dec. – Rosalind Russell and James Stewart excel in
“No Time for Comedy” (1940), William Keighley’s film of the S.N. Behrman play, which is on par with Mankiewicz's "All About Eve" in terms of Broadway venom - only less campy. It screens at 1:45 a.m.

21 Dec. - Jane Fonda gets the spotlight today, with back-to-back screenings of Robert Stevens’ “In the Cool of the Day” (1963) at 2:30 p.m., Peter Tewksbury’s “Sunday in New York” (1963) at 4 p.m. and Gene Saks’ “Barefoot in the Park” (1967), at 6 p.m.

Chaim Topol! As Tevye!

22 Dec. - Norman Jewison’s “Fiddler on the Roof” (1971) is a great film musical, beautifully done in just about every area. But it needs to be singled out for its casting of Chaim Topol in the lead role, for retaining the haunting dream (and very comic) sequence and for never, ever, downplaying Judaism. Right off, Jewison plays hommage to Hebrew religious symbols and artifacts during the film's rousing opening number, "Tradition!," as the Star of David and assorted menorahs flash on the screen with urgent, breathtaking speed. Everything that follows is just as memorable. "Fiddler on the Roof" airs at 10 a.m.

Original films and their remakes take over most of the remainder of the day, with one slight sidestep: George Cukor’s “The Women” (1939) airs today at 7:45 a.m., while its remake, David Miller’s “The Opposite Sex,” (1956) doesn't show up until 4 p.m. on 28 Dec. Cukor’s “My Fair Lady” (1964) shows at 8 p.m., followed by the original, Anthony Asquith and Leslie Howard’s “Pygmalion” (1938) at 11 p.m.; Rouben Mamoulian’s “Silk Stockings” (1957) at 1 a.,m., followed by Ernst Lubitsch’s original, “Ninotchka” (1939) at 3 a.m.

Errol Flynn - hear him sing (!) in “Thank Your Lucky Stars”

23 Dec. - David Butler’s “Thank Your Lucky Stars” (1943), at 7 a.m., is worth a glance only to catch Erroll Flynn in a cameo crooning something called "That's What You Jolly Well Get."

24 Dec. – Norman Taurog’s charming “Bundle of Joy” (1956), the Debbie and Eddie vehicle, is on hand at 11:45 a.m. And later there's Frank Capra’s “Pocketful of Miracles” (1961) at 3:30 p.. repeating 29 Dec. at 1:45 a.m. Glenn Ford is the affable star, but one has to wonder how the role of Dave the Dude managed to escape Sinatra.

Bette Davis and cronies in Capra's "Pocketful of Miracles," his remake of "Lady for a Day"

25 Dec. - More originals and remakes: Robert Z. Leonard’s “In the Good Old Summertime” (1949) at 3 a.m., followed by the Lubitsch original, “The Shop Aaround the Corner” (1940) at 5 a.m.; George Cukor’s “Little Women” (1933) at 7 a.m. and its remake, Mervyn LeRoy’s “Little Women” (1949), later in the day, at 2 :15 p.m.

Turner's ambition, sprawling two-day Sherlock Holmes marathon, bleeding into 26 Dec., will be capped by James Hill’s nifty, little-seen “A Study in Terror” (1965), at 4 a.m. The excellent John Neville stars.

Two Jacks, a Judy and a Kim in Mark Robson's sophisticated "Phffft!"

27 Dec. – Ray Milland’s surprisingly engrossing “Panic in the Year Zero” (1962), starring Milland and the indispensible Jean Hagen, shows at midnight.

Comedy hits hightlight most of the day. Charles Walter’s “The Tender Trap” (1955), at noon, stars Sinatra, a treat as always, but his best bud is the estimable David Wayne, the original Ensign Pulver on stage. This film was made the same year that Jack Lemmon scored as Pulver in the John Ford-Mervyn LeRoy film version. Speaking of Lemmon, he has a double-bill today, with Mark Robson’s quite contemporary “Phffft!” (1954) airing at 2 p.m., followed by Gene Saks’ “The Odd Couple” (1968) at 4 p.m.

Russell and Carson, a match made in heaven, in Michael Curtiz's "Roughly Speaking"

28 Dec. – Michael Curtiz’ “Roughly Speaking” (1945), at 6 a.m., starring Rosaline Russell in another strong performance, also contains my favorite Jack Carson performance. Based on a novel by Louise Randall Pierson, this film was way ahead of its time in its observations of an independent-minded woman (Russell, natch) trying to cope and excel in a man's world and the husband (Carson) who elects to back her up and support her even though he doesn't fully endorse - or even understand - her views.

P.S. Vincente Minnelli’s "Designing Woman” (1957), with Peck and Bacall, always makes for terrifc viewing. It airs at 8 a.m.

29 Dec. - Another original and remake: Capra’s “Lady for a Day” (1933) at midnight, followed by that repeat of “Pocketful of Miracles” (1961) at 1:45 a.m.)

Nancy Kwan kicks up dust in the
"Grant Avenue" number in Koster's "Flower Drum Song"

Henry Koster’s “Flower Drum Song” (1961), a recent addition to the National Film Registry after years of neglect, screens at 5:45 p.m. It is arguably Rodgers and Hammerstein's best musical and certainly the team's jazziest. Stay up and catch John Hughes’ “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” (1986) at 10 p.m.

30 Dec. - Richard Brooks’ “Battle Circus” (1953), with the unusal casting of June Allyson and Bogart, airs at 2:15 p.m.

You-know-who ... Say no more

31 Dec. – Hitch. All day, starting at 7 a.m., followed by a “Thin Man” marathon. What a way to end the year! Celebrate!

Note in Passing: Check out the typically wonderful Turner Remembers tribute to the film personalties who passed during the year. Just go to the TCM Media Room and click on "TCM Remembers 2009" under "Now Playing - Today on TCM.Com."

alec, the actor who cried wolf

Every so often, an actor/actress comes along, upon whom one plants a few dreams. These people are more than favorites. They are screening-room buddies whose each film is eagerly, even hotly, anticipated.

These are people we cast in fantasy films. Well, some of us do.

Burt Reynolds and Beau Bridges are two actors from my distant past who meant something to me. Alec Baldwin and Debra Winger are two others - over-the-top talents who, at one time, I envisoned as playing George and Martha in a remake of "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?"

Come on, doesn't that sound absolutely terrific?

But Baldwin and Winger shared another quality apart from their sizable acting talents. Both were pretty tempestuous. So my cockeyed dreams for them went unfulfilled as their careers spun out of control.

But Alec - okay, I feel as if I know him - rebounded. His is a comeback that rivals John Travolta's. And he seems to be enjoying himself in his Second Act. Good for him. But for some bizarre reason, he has this penchant for periodically making - how shall I put this? - threats.

It's no secret that, once again, Alec Baldwin has threatened to call it quits.

This is the third time, by my count, and each time he does this, I cringe.

The first time, if you recall, occured nearly a decade ago during the 2000 Primary. Baldwin vowed to leave the country and move to Canada if George W. Bush won the Presidency. Well, George did win.

But Alec didn't leave.

The second time was in April of 2007 when Baldwin left his now-notorious voicemail message for his 11-year-old daughter. He was so mortified when he was cornered by the media - nothing is private today - that he threatened to leave the struggling "30 Rock" at the end of the season.

Well, "30 Rock" hung on and so did ... Alec.

Now, he tells Men's Journal magazine in its latest issue that he will leave acting in 2012. And while making this premature farewell, Baldwin rather gratuituously noted that he considers his movie career to be "a complete failure." I'm sure that statement heartens the people with whom he's worked on such worthwhile projects as "Glengarry Glen Ross," "Beetle Juice," "The Departed," "Miami Blues," "Married to the Mob," "The Cooler," "Lymelife," "Outside Providence" and "Talk Radio."

Alec, relax. Your filmmography is full-bodied and fascinating.

But wait! While Baldwin may actually bail this time, he is currrently all over the place doing different things - something that's unlikely to change.

Let's see... He writes for the Huffington Post ... he's part of the New York Times Arts & Leisure speaker series ... he just signed for a second season as co-host of Turner Classic Movies' The Essentials ... and, of course, he will host the next Oscarcast in tandem with Steve Martin.

Alec Baldwin says he's leaving. But is he really?

Why don't I believe him?

cinema obscura: Martin Ritt's "Five Branded Women" (1960)

Silvana Mangano (far left) and fellow prisoners Jeanne Moreau, Vera Miles, Carla Gravina and Barbara Bel Geddes face off with Nazi Richard Basehart in Ritt's "Five Branded Women" (1960)

In 1960, Martin Ritt joined forces with super producer Dino DeLaurentiis for a most provocative war-time drama, abetted by five talented, diverse actresses who, in tandem, bring an international flair - and constrasting acting styles - to "Five Branded Women." For the resourceful DVD addict, Ritt's film would make a fine double-bill with John Ford's similar "7 Women" (1966).

Silvana Mangano, Jeanne Moreau, Vera Miles, Carla Gravina and Barbara Bel Geddes - all cast as Yugoslavians - are the titular women, ostracized by their country's Partisans for having had sexual relations with a Nazi officer, initially played with an all-American swagger by Steve Forrest.

As further punishment for their shared transgression, each one is branded by having her hair shaved - a symbol of their shame. Hence, the title. (The film's working title was "Jovanka and the Others" - Jovanka being the Mangano character.) Forrest's Nazi doesn't exactly get off easy: He's castrated by the Partisans and few scenes are as bluntly memorably as the moment when Forrest shouts from a window, "I am no longer a man!"

The film then follows the women, unknown to each other and suspicious of each other, as they reluctantly band together for the sake of survival - stealing food, dodging rapists and picking up guns and fighting.

The script by Ivo Perilli (with uncredited help by Michael Wilson and Paul Jarrico) is based on the novel, "Jovanka e le altre," by Ugo Pirro and takes time out for some quiet introspective moments as each woman shares what she hoped to gain from her relationship with Forrest. One of the women turns out to be pregnant; another attempts suicide.

And she never even slept with Forrest.

"Five Branded Women," directed by Ritt with his usual fluidity and political conscienceness, is grim and yet it's a startling testament to human resilience - and an examination of the torments of guilt and separation.

Its fine supporting cast includes Van Heflin, Harry Guardino and Richard Basehart as another Nazi. Its harshly atmospheric black-&-white cinematography is by Fellini favorite, the great Giuseppe Rotunno, who also did "All That Jazz" and "Carnal Knowledge." It looks very European.

Now ... where's the DVD?

Note in Passing: If Vera Miles hairline always looked suspicious to you in Alfred Hitchcock's "Psycho" (1960), it's because she had to wear a wig throughout the production. Miles had made Ritt's film immediately prior to "Psycho" and her hair was still crew-cut length, requiring a wig.

Another Baby Gift

I can finally post this because the gift was given today :) Put a long sleeve onsie and some leggins and the dress/sweater will look too cute on a litte one. Then, next year, it should be short enough to fit as a sweater. I hope you like it Jennifer!You remember the dress/sweater from a previous post (it was so cute, I had to make one for LA as well, but wanted them to be a little bit different). The shoes are a pattern from Sylver Designs.

cinema obscura: Griffin Dunne's "The Accidental Husband" (2008)

Morgan and Thurman in the unreleased "The Accidental Husband," directed by Griffin Dunne.

Uma Thurman's latest film, "Motherhood," directed by Katherine Dieckmann, opened in a few "select" cities recently and then disappeared after a week - an indication that it will travel no further theatrically.

Next stop: DVD.

But at least it was released.

What on earth happend to Thurman's previous film, "The Accidental Husband," from 2008? It was directed by Griffin Dunne and co-stars "Grey's Anatomy's" Jeffrey Dean Morgan before he even made "Watchmen," and the ubiquitous Colin Firth - and Sam Shepard! With a cast like this, why wasn't "The Accidental Husband" ever released?

In it, Thurman plays a popular radio talk show host, emgaged to Firth but already married to Morgan - much to her chagrin. And confusion. See, she doesn't remember even marrying Morgan. So what gives? This sound like the kind of inane romcom that most studios have no problem releasing - at least, not when the inane romcom stars Sandra Bullock.

Apparently, the Morgan character is harboring some "big secret" which, for me, is code that his character is really gay. I'm only guessing here.

Uma's recent movie choices have come in under the radar in terms of box-office, but they've been nothing if not risky and diverse - Susan Stroman's "The Producers" 2005), Ben Younger's Prime" (2005), Ivan Reitman's "My Super Ex-Girlfriend" (2006) and Vadim Perelman's "The Lies Before Her Eyes" (2007). It doesn't help that both "Motherhood" and "The Accidental Husband" have been virtually invisible.

Hey, Give her a break. Let's see the Griffin film already!

façade: Forgotten '50s Femmes

Patricia Owens and Barbara Rush with Pat Hingle in Martin Ritt's "No Down Payment" (1957)

Actresses of the 1950s-'60s.

It's a subject that fascinates me.

But beyond Liz and Marilyn, who pretty much ruled the roost in the day, there was a whole collection of second- and third-tier actresses who offered a wide diversity between the Imperial Brunette and Hot Blonde.

I'm not necessarily thinking of Debbie Reynolds and Doris Day and Natalie Wood and Shirley MacLaine and Janet Leigh - or Lee Remick and and Piper Laurie and Joanne Woodward and Jean Simmons, although I love them all. Fact is, they all enjoyed star spots during their careers.

And while the era's "newcomers" - Hope Lange, Millie Perkins, Diane Baker and Suzy Parker - may not have become major players, people did know who they were. No, my fascination is with the fleeting stars. Not Grace Kelly, who had a brief but vibrant career, but someone like Vera Miles who was once deemed Kelly's natural successor. It never happened. And there are the ill-fated - the actresses who died too young - such as Diane Varsi and Inger Stevens, both singular and both talented.

No, my fascination is with actresses who were "almost stars," who worked unobtrusively as contract players, often in lead roles and usually in B movies, but who, for some bizarre reason, represent the real quintessential female stars of their era. The names Mary Murphy, Nancy Gates, Mala Powers, Colleen Gray, Dianne Foster, Karen Sharpe, Betsy Palmer, Elaine Stewart and Diane Brewster may not mean anything to you, but they do to me. They were great. All of them.

But even here, there was a pecking order - certain actresses who stood out more than others, even in secondary roles in secondary pictures.

Julie Adams (then Julia) and a bad blind date in Jack Arnold's "Creature from the Black Lagoon" (1954)

First and foremost, there was the gorgeous and woefully overlooked Barbara Rush, who played in the occasional comedy ("Oh Men! Oh Women!" and "Come Blow Your Horn") but largely specialized in socially-conscious soap operas (Martin Ritt's "No Down Payment," Daniel Petrie's "The Bramble Bush," Vincent Sherman's "The Young Philadelphians" and Richard Quine's "Strangers When We Meet") where she brought a distinct artistry to her reliably tremulous line-readings. When Rush cried, which was often, I cried along with her.

The equally beautiful Julie Adams had a bit more of an up personality, which made her game for creature flicks, the most famous of which is Jack Arnold's "Creature from the Black Lagoon" (1954). She always had a sparkle in her eyes and she clicked with leading men as diverse as Richard Denning, George Nader, Charlton Heston and Francis the Talking Mule. Adams made a wildly memorable comeback, thanks to Dennis Hopper, in "The Last Movie" (1971), where she proved she was made for the counter-culture. As far as I'm concerned she's the Mrs. Robinson who should have been.

The lovely Delores Michaels, meanwhile, appeared in only 11 films but made a lasting impression on me. A Hitchcock blonde who got away before Hitch could discover her, I remember Michaels (pictured right) fondly for Henry Levin's "April Love" (1957), Edward Dmytryk's "Warlock" (1959), James Clavell's "Five Gates to Hell" (1959) and James B. Clark's "One Foot in Hell" (1961).

Slender, sculptured and icy (but in a good way), the German-born Dana Wynter (née, Dagmar Wynter) will forever be associated with Don Siegel's sublime pod movie, "Invasion of the Body Snatchers"(1956), in which her character Becky Driscoll seemed to be a vague semblence of herself to begin with. Her best role - her best showcase, at least - was probably in Henry Koster's "Fräulein," which also starred the aforementioned Delores Michaels and which borrowed from her German heritage, but Wynter, always the strong, supportive woman, also shined in Richard Brooks's "Something of Value" (1957) opposite Rock Hudson and Sidney Poitier, Michael Anderson's "Shake Hands with the Devil" (1959), with Jimmy Cagney, and even Melville Shavelson's "On the Double" (1960), a Danny Kaye vehicle. There are many, many more. Wynter (pictured below) enjoyed a most productive career.

Patricia Owens, another Delores Michaels co-star (in "Five Gates to Hell"), also teamed with Rush (in "No Down Payment"), but she is perhaps best known for her role - and her scream - in Kurt Neumann's original "The Fly" (1955), a seminal film in my life. So I have a soft spot for this very attractive woman.

Owens enjoyed some good roles, particularly in Joshua Logan's "Sayonara" (1957), starring as Marlon Brando's uptight financée, and in Richard Fleischer's "Ten Thousand Hills" (1959), an excellent Western also starring Don Murray, Lee Remick, Albert Dekker, Stuart Whitman and Richard Egen. There was a skill and shyness about Owens that made her perfect for the sexually-suppressed '50s and '60s, but she was very good at hinting, largely with her beautiful eyes.

She seemed to bring a sensual longing to each of her roles, even the disposable ones, comparable to what Kim Novak did so magnificently in Quine's "Strangers When We Meet." It's a role that Owens could have played blindfolded, but, alas, she didn't have the star power.

Unerringly proper, Martha Hyer did not play likable women. She specialized in standoffish, often snobbish women and yet, thanks to her personal nuances, her women were never completely dislikable. Hyer made sure we understood her characters - their flaws and the psychology behind them.

She expertly plied her trade in such diverse films as Vincente Minnelli's 'Some Came Running" (1958), Melville Shavelson's "Houseboat" (1958), Jean Negulesco's "The Best of Everything" (1959), Jack Webb's "The Last Time I Saw Archie" (1961), Frank Tashlin's "The Man from the Diner's Club" (1963) and Arthur Penn's "The Chase" (1966), all in a short amount of time. At quick glance, Hyer was an enigma, but she really wasn't. A closer look shows her women were flesh-and-blood.

Well, they're my picks. Let me know if I left anyone out.

So is she or isn't she? A pod, that is. Dana Wynter in Don Siegel's "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" (1956) with staunch, stalwart Kevin McCarthy

turner this month - bravo!

Star of the Month: Grace Kelly

Great, great month on Turner, not the least of which is the cable channel's pick of Grace Kelly as its Star of the Month. Princess Grace made only eleven - count 'em - eleven feature films and she never overacted or chewed at scenery to command attention. She did it quietly - with muted style and serenity. The rest of the month ain't bad either, including an on-going tribute to composer Johnny Mercer. Here are a few highlights...

Jack capers in Quine's "How to Murder Your Wife"

"How To Murder Your Wife" - airing at noon (est) on Sunday, 1 November - may be the least of the six features that Jack Lemmon made with Richard Quine but it's alert fun nevertheless. Part of the problem is that it's hard to buy Jack as a womanizing playboy and man-about-town - the town being New York, no less. But Jack pretty much turns the screen over to his game co-star Virna Lisi and an array of grateful supporting players - Terry-Thomas (barely concealing his homoeroticism as Jack's "man" - his butler); Eddie Mayhoff (still as wittily pushy as when he gave Jerry Lewis a difficult time); Claire Trevor, giving new meaning to the sexist expression, Battle Axe, and Max Showalter (aka, Casey Adams), Jack Albertson, Alan Hewitt, Mary Wickes and Sidney Blackmer who as a soused arbiter of justice gets to utter the line, "I'm as sober as a judge," courtesy of writer George Axelrod. Given so much talent, I just wish "How to Murder Your Wife" was a better comedy.

Charles Walters' affable military comedy, "Don't Go Near the Water" (1957), is worth catching not only for star Glenn Ford's laid-back charm, but for the breezy obscenity of Mickey Shaughnessy's performance as a soldier who can't control his mouth. Watch it at 6 a.m. (est) on Monday, 2 November. Later in the day, at 2 p.m. (est) you can see Dean Martin is his first post-Jerry role in Richard Thorpe's "Ten Thousand Bedrooms" (1957), co-starring Anna Maria Alberghetti.

Goulet and Kwan stranded at the "Honeymoon Hotel"

Henry Levin's "Honeymoon Hotel" (1964) was a misguided attempt to exploit the matinee-idol status of two leading men whose respective careers were each driven by early '60s Broadway musicals. Robert Goulet, a handsome young baritone from Canada, had scored as Lancelot in Lerner and Loewe's 1960 "Camelot," while Robert Morse was the Gotham Golden Boy, thanks to his ambitious puppy in 1961's "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying" by Frank Loesser.

Morse had already made his screen debut in 1958 in Joseph Anthony's "The Matchmaker," but "Honeymoon Hotel" was conceived to move him - and Goulet - into star status in a Martin/Lewis-style romp about two horny friends who end up sharing a room at a resort hotel that caters to newlyweds only. And, yes, there's a touch of "Some Like It Hot" here, what with the guys up to their eyes in women they can't touch.

While Morse went on to have a modest film career that peaked with the bland David Swift film version of "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying" (1967), Goulet had less success. He had one more leading-man role - in Jack Smight's "I'd Rather Be Rich" (opposite Sandra Dee and Andy Williams) the same year - before seguing into largely TV work, a missed opportunity for an actor both talented and movie-star-ish.

There's not much to say about "Honeymoon Hotel" except that it has a good supporting cast (Jill St. John, Keenan Wynn, Anne Helm, David Lewis, Elsa Lanchester, Elvia Allman, Bernard Fox and Sandra Gould). Charming leading lady Nancy Kwan, meanwhile, is a good sport performing a most bizarre dance (choreographed by Miriam Nelson).

This film was her consolation prize after Ray Stark, the man who discovered her, decided to pass on a film version of Richard Rodgers' "No Strings," that would have reunited Kwan opposite her "World of Suzie Wong" co-star, William Holden. (There was something of a racial fuss at the time because Stark had decided to change the heroine of "No Strings" from Black to Asian, effectively killing plans for the film.)

"Honeymoon Hotel" will be shown at 4 p.m. (est) on Monday, 2 November.

Titles by Saul Bass

Here are four films worth watching just for their titles sequences alone, designed by the master of all titles artists, Saul Bass. Starting at 8 p.m. on Monday, 2 November, catch Alfred Hitchcock's "Vertigo" (1958) and "North by Northwest" (1959), followed by Otto Preminger's "Anatomy of a Murder" 91959) and "Bunny Lake Is Missing" (1965).

Harris and Dean, young acting giants in Kazan's "East of Eden"

Few films have captured the troubling consequences of family life, where love is either withheld or given only grudingly, than Elia Kazan's 1955 film version of John Steinbeck's "East of Eden," a quality that's fully realized by the lovely, careful performances of stars Julie Harris and James Dean. Look for the fabulous Lois Smith in a small role - one of her first parts on film. "East of Eden" plays at 8 p.m. (est) on Tuesday, 3 November.

One of the most irresistible screen presences - ever - was the urbane Gig Young, who gets a day of his own on Wednesday, 4 November, when Turner screens eight of his features, starting at 8 a.m. (est) with Vincent Sherman's "Old Acquaintance" (1943), followed by Peter Godfrey's "The Woman in White" (1948), George Archainbaud's "Hunt the Man Down" (1950), Irving Allen's "Slaughter Trail" (1951), Gerald Mayer's "Holiday for Sinners" (1952), Don Weis's "You for Me" (1952), Richard Thorpe's "The Girl Who Had Everything" (1953) and George Sidney's "A Ticklish Affair" (1963), co-starring the two Jones girls - Shirley and Carolyn.

Hitch Hearts Harris

Alfred Hitchcock has been misrepresented by his infamous "Actors are cattle" quip, with most people deducing that he hated actors. Not true. His point: Directing actors is a matter of moving them from here to there, much like cattle. Anyway, Hitch's final film, "Family Plot" (1976), patly disproves this falsehood. If Hitch wasn't completely beguiled by Barbara Harris (that's her above), then I'm misreading the signs of love.

Find out for yourself when Turner airs the film at 10 a.m. (est) on Saturday, 7 November.

Two Times Two Equals Four Stars

The first films of two British director - Ridley Scott's "The Dullists" (1978), starring Keith Carradine and Harvey Keitel, and stephen Frears' "Gumshoe" (1971), with Albert Finney, Billie Whitelaw and Janice Rule - will be shown on Sunday, 8 November, beginning at midnight (est).

The Screen Team That Stopped...

For one brief moment in the late 1970s-early '80s, Carl Reiner was an auteur and Steve Martin was his muse. In fact, they made four back-to-back films in five years, starting with "The Jerk" in 1979 and followed by three unusually inventive titles - "Dead Man Don't Wear Plaid" (1982) "The Man With Two Brains" (1983) and "All of Me" (1984). Good stuff. Why they stopped is beyond me. Here's your chance to see "All of Me," co-starring Lily Tomlin, at 4:15 a.m. (est) on Monday, 9 November.
They don't build actors like Robert Ryan anymore (check out that gaze, above), and Turner is intent on proving that with an eight-film tribute that it's scheduled for Tuesday, 10 November, begining at 6 a.m. (est) with Robert Z. Leonard's "Her Twelve Me" (1954). It will be followed by Nicholas Ray's "Born to be Bad" (1950), William D. Russell's "Best of the Badmen" (1951), John Farrow's "Back from Eternity" (1956), John Cromwell's "The Racket" (1851), Ray's "On Dangerous Ground" (1951), Harry Horner's "Beware, My Lovely" (1952) and Fritz Lang's "Clash by Night" (1952), opposite Barbara Stanwyck and Marilyn Monroe.

Here is your chance to savor this champion of the masculine outcast and lost soul who, reluctantly, explored human relationships. And you can get a head start by checking out Ryan in Sam Fuller's terrific "House of Bamboo" (1955) at 8 p.m. (est) on Sunday, 8 November.

Bolstered by cutting edge performances by Stacy Keach, Jeff Bridges and the ultra quirky Susan Tyrell, John Huston's corrosive masterpiece "Fat City" (1972), long overlooked and forgotten, turns conventional Hollywood melodrama on its head as it brings its tale of a washed-up boxer (Keach) mentoring a young hopeful (Bridge) to a creepy pitch that is difficult to shake. Watch it at 4 a.m.(est) on Friday, 13 November.

One of the great movie secrets for the past, oh, fifty years, is that Leslie Caron did not do her own singing in Vincente Minnelli's "Gigi" (1958). Like a few other notable screen musicals stars - Rita Hayworth, Cyd Charisse and Vera-Ellen, all dancers - Caron was traditionally dubbed when it came to singing on-screen, although she did warble the slight title tune that highlighted Charles Walters' "Lili."

For "Gigi," Caron was dubbed by sound-alike Betty Wand who also dubbed Rita Moreno on "A Boy Like That" for "West Side Story." Yes, that's right. While everyone - including Moreno - makes a fuss about Natalie Wood and Richard Beymer being dubbed in WSS, she was, too! (Moreno, who exhibits no love for Wood during her commentary for the DVD of WSS, never addresses her own dubbing.) And so was musical star, Russ Tamblyn, whose singing voice isn't his in the Sondheim-Bernstein vehicle. The voice is actually that of his co-star, Tucker Smith. If none of this makes any sense, blame Saul Chaplin, a film-musical perfectionist who also insisted that Juanita Moore be dubbed in "South Pacific," even though she sang the part of Bloody Mary on stage for years before making the Josh Logan film version.

Anyway, listen closely as Caron sings in "Gigi" at noon (est) on Friday, 13 November.

"O.K. ... L.A. ... H.O. ... M.A. ... Oklahoma! Ya-hoo!"

Rogers and Hammerstein's "Oklahoma!" was as revolutionary on screen as it was on stage. This was - to the best of my knowledge - the first major film musical to be helmed by a filmmaker known for more dramatic fare. Comedies - and certainly musicals - were not the forté of the great Fred Zinnemann. (Sidney Lumet, John Huston and Sir Richard Attenborough are three other "serious" filmmakers who would be recruited by the studios to resuscitate the film musical, which fell on hard times in the 1950s and has yet to completely rebound.) Zinnemann was craftly. He was scrupulously faithful to the classic stage musical, but cleverly added a couple little curlicues of his own - namely, method player Rod Steiger and noir mainstay Gloria Graham in crucial supporting roles. Not just that. But Zinnemann let them do their own singing. God bless him.

A fanatical movie-musical lover, I am no purist. I think that casting properly is more important than singing ability - and "Oklahoma!" proves my point. Steiger and Graham are excellent in their roles (Graham cast seemingly against type, but not really) and, while neither is an accomplished singer, I love knowing that it's their voices that are coming out of their mouths - and not the soulless intonations of Marni Nixon, the bane of movie musicals of the 1950s and '60s.

Steiger, in fact, is so good that one regrets that his rendition of "Poor Jud Is Daid" (aka, "Poor Jud Is Dead") with Gordon MacRae was truncated for the film and that Jud's "Lonely Room" number was cut altogether.

"Oklahoma!" (1955) screens 2 p.m. (est) on Saturday, 14 November.

Compare & Contrast: “The Lost and Found RKO Collection”

Last December, Turner discovered and dusted off six forgotten classics of the 1930’s RKO studio era.

Two of the titles - "Living on Love" and "A Man to Remember" - were “B” picture remakes of two other titles in the collection - "Rafter Romance" and "One Man’s Journey." I've no idea when the others will pop up for encore presentations, but Lew Landers' "Living on Love" (1937) and William A. Seiter's "Rafter Romance"" (1933) - both about a man and a woman who unknowingly share the same apartment because they work different shifts - will be rescreened by Turner on consecutive days.

"Living on Love," with Whitney Bourne and James Dunne, airs at 7:15 a.m. (est) on Monday, 16 November; "Rafter Romance," with Ginger Rogers and Norman Foster, at 9 a.m. (est) on Tuesday, 17 November.

Why on earth was this film admired?

Look, I like Jack Lemmon. He's my favorite actor. Of all time. And while I should appreciate the attention and acclaim that came to him via Blake Edwards' drama on alcoholism, "Days of Wine and Roses" (1962), I don't necessarily like the film or Jack's performance in it. J.P. Miller's script is painfully simplistic and Jack's melt-down in a greenhouse while looking for booze is cringe-worthy. That said, Lee Remick is fine, the anchor of this wildly overrated movie.

It screens at 2 a.m. on Thursday, 19 November.

Willie Nelson & Fred Schepisi & Alan Rudolph

Only Turner would be resouceful enough to devote a night to balladeer Willie Nelson who, in his woefully brief film career, worked for more than a few auteurs - including Schepisi who directed him in the revisionist Western "Barbarosa" (1982) and Rudolph who paired him with Kris Kristofferson in the companionable "Songwrite" (1984). They air back-to-back, starting at 1 a.m. (est) on Friday, 20 November. Enjoy!

Double-Bill on Race Relations

The fascination of human relationships, the perilous nature of interracial love, the seduction of escape and the ideology of family are all dealt without compromise in two excellent features, Larry Peerce's "One Potato, Two Potato" (1964) and Hal Ashby's "The Landlord" (1970), being screened back-to-back Friday, 20 November, starting at 8 p.m. (est).

Barbara Barrie stars in the former as a divorcee whose relationship with a black man (Bernie Hamilton) enrages her former husband (Richard Mulligan), threatening her custody battle, and Beau Bridges (above with director Ashby) has his finest film role as the title star of "The Landlord," about a rich white kid who wants to gentrify a tenement apartment, only to become involved with the black tenants he plans to evicit. The sublime Diana Sands and Oscar-nominated Lee Grant co-star.

Fleischer! Encore! Bravo!

The ever underrated Richard Fleischer earns a well-deserved prime-time double bill with back-to-back showings of his tense, smart "Violent Saturday" (1955), starring '50s hunks Victor Mature, Richard Egan and Stephen McNally, and the rough and raw "The Vikings" (1958), which pairs Kirk Douglas with '50s hot couple, Tony Curtis and Janet Leigh, in what amounts to a glorified pirate adventure - albeit a first-rate pirate adventure. Narration by Orson Welles and a memorable music score by Mario Nascimbene add to the adventure of it all.

"Violent Saturday" amd "The Vikings" air back-to-back beginning at 8 p.m. on Sunday, 22 November.

Jean Negulesco's "Road House" (1948)

Not to be confused with the 1989 Rowdy Herrington/Patrick Swayze free-for-all, Negulesco's film is something of a minor classic that Richard Widmark made almost immediately after his breakthrough film, Henry Hathaway's "Kiss of Death." Here, Widmark goes into the nighclub business, shady-division, with no less than Ida Lupino as his chanteuse. Ida ings here - a song called "Again." Bliss - even if she does hit a flat note now and then. Again, I prefer to hear actors doing their own singing.

Celeste Holm and Cornel Wilde co-star. "Road House" airs on Turner at 8 p.m. (est) on Qednesday, 25 November.

Melvin Frank's "Li'l Abner" (1959)

A first-rate musical comedy by Johnny Mercer and Gene De Paul, based on the beloved Al Capp cartoon strip, "Li'l Abner" (1959) was rudely dismissed in its day. But, frankly, it's pretty wonderful, anchored by Michael Kidd's original stage choreography, recreated for the occasion by Dee Dee Wood. Sinatra fave, Nelson Riddle, did the orchestrations.

Oh, yeah, and Jerry Lewis stops by for a cameo.

"Li'l Abner" airs at 11:30 p.m. (est) on Wednesday, 25 November.

Black Friday: Comedy on Turner -skip football

I see no reason to get out of bed on Friday, 27 November. That's when, starting at 8 a.m. (est) for 12 hours straight, Turner airs Charles Walters' "Please Don't Eat the Daisies" (1960), H.C. Potter's "Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House" (1948), Melville Shavelson's "Houseboat" (1958) and "Yours Mine and Ours" (1968), Vincente Minnelli's "The Long, Long Trailer" (1954) and Billy Wilder's "Some Like It Hot" (1959). The stars? Cary Grant, Myrna Loy, Sophia Loren, Doris Day, David Niven, Henry Fonda, Lucy and Desi and ... Sugar and Daphne (Marilyn and Jack in the still shot above).

Don Sharp's "Psychomania" (1971)

Don't miss this one.

Part Guilty Pleasure, part undiscovered masterpiece, this witty, astute British horror lark mixes bikers with Satanism and is never less than watchable. Nicky Henson, a young Brit hunk who was quite ubiquitous in the early 1970s ("30 Is a Dangerous Age, Cynthia" and "There's a Girl in My Soup"), stars as the reckless hero and, making it further irresistible is the presence of Beryl Reid (that's her, below) and the usually game George Sanders (in what, alas, would be his final film).

Sharp was a sinfully overlooked filmmaker who will forever be honored here for 1975's top-notch Irish thriller, "Hennessy" starring Rod Steiger, Lee Remick, Trevor Howard and Richard Johnson, and 1979's "Bear Island" with the to-die-for cast of Vanessa Redgrave, Donald Sutherland, Richard Widmark, Barbara Parkins, Chistopher Lee and Lloyd Bridges.

A native of Tasmania, Australia, Sharp seemingly retired from filmmaking in 1989, a few years after having directed Jenny Seagrove and Deborah Kerr in the superior teleplay, "A Woman of Substance" (1984).

"Psychomania" airs at 2 a.m. (est) on Saturday, 28 November. Record it.

James William Guerico's "Electra Glide in Blue" (1973)

Very much the counterculture epic of its day, eagerly awaited and ripe for the hero reduction of its Brilliant Young Filmmaker which followed, James William Guerico's "Electra Glide in Blue" operated as something of a film lumière, a modern policier set in the blinding sun of Arizona and starring the idiosyncratic Robert Blake (seen below) - who had earned the blessings of critics from his performances in Richard Brooks' "In Cold Blood" and Abraham Polonsky's "Tell Them Willie Boy Is Here" - as a diminuative cop obsessed with solving the murder of a hermit.

The film's release was trumpeted prematurely by a major article in Esquire magazine in 1971 (actually devoted to Monte Hellman's "Two-Lane Blacktop") and a killer soundtrack. Guerico's film also boasted a compelling performance by Billy "Green" Bush, a singular actor who added to whatever film in which he appeared - and who mysteriously disappeared from the screen in 1993.

"Electra Glide in Blue" screens at 3:45 a.m. (est) on Saturday, 28 November.

William Dieterle's "The Devil and Daniel Webster" (1941)

Dieterle's classic film, based on the Stephen Vincent Benet story, by way of Archibald Macleish's stage adaptation (titled "Scratch"), gets the showcase treatment on "The Essentials," Turner's weekly movie discussion show co-hosted by Robert Osborne and Alec Baldwin. Originally released under the title "All That Money Can Buy," the film reflects on the decisions we make, as illustrated by the dealings of farmer Daniel Webster (Edward Arnold) with one Mr. Scratch (Walter Huston).

Scratch is actually ... The Devil incarnate!

Coincidentally, Baldwin himself directed a version of Benet's story in the late 1990s. With a script cowritten by novelist Peter Dexter, filmmaker Bill Condon and actress Nancy Cassaro (strange bedfellows indeed), Baldwin's "The Devil and Daniel Webster" cast Anthony Hopkins (Baldwin's co-star from David Mamet's "The Edge") as Webster and Jennifer Love Hewitt as The Devil. Apparently a troubled production from the start, the film lists no fewer than 21 producers which may explain why is was repeatedly recut and shelved, much to Baldwin's chagrin.

Ultimately acquired by Bob Yari productions, it played a couple film markets and festivals in 2004 and a few token theatrical engagements in 2007 (mostly in Europe) under the new title "Shortcut to Heaven" before going to video/DVD in 2008 - by which time, Baldwin had his directorial contribution to the film removed from its credits.

The film now lists "Harry Kirkpatrick" as its auteur.

Baldwin, however, remains on screen as the third lead, looking much thinner than he is now, as evidenced by the still shot above. He and his two stars are fine, as are the performers in the stellar supporting cast - Dan Aykroyd, Kim Cattrall, John Savage, Barry Miller, Amy Poehler, Bobby Cannavale, Jason Patric and Darrell Hammond - an indication that Baldwin is a good director of actors. Among the supporting characters in the film are Ernest Hemingway, Lillian Hellman, Charlotte Bronte, Sylvia Plath, James Joyce and Truman Capote. Dexter's contribution? Hmmm.

Stick to the original "The Devil and Daniel Webster," which airs at 8 p.m. (est) on Saturday, 28 November.