Well, dear readers, we all know that the Shadow knows, but this week I’m afraid that in addition to the Shadow, the Nose Knows. And what the Nose Knows is that it is very tired of Ye Olde Allergy Attacks. My nose knows that it is red from all the blowing. Too much blowing, that’s all I can tell you. Too Much Blowing – that’s the title of my next novel. Of course, before the blowing is the sneezing and the wheezing. Only after the sneezing and the wheezing comes the blowing. I’ve gone through a box-and-a-half of Kleenex in two days. Usually a box of Kleenex lasts me at least two weeks. Why am I going on ad nauseum about my fershuganah nose? Only the Nose Knows. Speaking of the Nose, yesterday was another of those here and gone days and evenings. I began the day by waking up, which is always a good way to begin a day, when you consider the alternatives. I then shipped out a whole slew of packages, and then had to toddle off to a morning meeting at Jerry’s Deli. I finished with that about twelve-thirty, did some other errands and whatnot, and then came home, where I know I did many things, none of which I can now remember. After a full day of doing things I can no longer remember, I finally sat on my couch like so much fish.
Last night, I watched three count them three motion pictures on DVD. The first motion picture on DVD was entitled Good Neighbor Sam (I’ve been watching it over the last few days in the bedroom environment), starring Mr. Jack Lemmon, Miss Dorothy Provine, and Miss Romy Schneider, along with many fine comic character actors. The film was adapted from the very slight novel by Jack Finney, a book I enjoyed back when I was a twig of a sprig of a tad of a lad of a youth. I also enjoyed the film back then. Now, sadly, it’s a bit of a trial, although the players do a very good job all around (including Mike Connors). The director, David Swift, was very good at this sort of film (he helmed The Parent Trap), but brevity is not a word he was familiar with, hence this slight comedy runs 126 minutes, which is twenty-six minutes too long. Still, it was fun to see it after all these years, and it does still have some funny moments here and there. The DVDR transfer is very sharp, but a little faded, color-wise. I then watched the second motion picture on DVD, which was entitled Another Sky, a film from 1956, the one and only film from author/critic/screenwriter Gavin Lambert. Back then, he was editor and critic for Sight and Sound magazine. He met a wealthy entrepreneur who wanted to shoot a film in Morocco. So, Mr. Lambert wrote a screenplay and directed the film on a budget of 25,000 pounds, or roughly $40,000. It’s low budget shows constantly (the entire film is post-synched and not very well), but his three principal players are very good (the only professionals in the cast), and the setting is interesting. But, it plays more like a travelogue with occasional dramatic scenes, than a film. It’s certainly competently directed, but Mr. Lambert never again felt it necessary to direct. The camerawork by Walter Lassally is excellent – he would go on to photograph A Taste Of Honey, Tom Jones, and Zorba the Greek. But, the pacing of the film is dreadful, and even though it only runs eighty-six minutes, many of those minutes are interminable. An interesting oddity, nonetheless, and a very nice transfer from what must have been less than optimal elements. There’s a short little featurette on Mr. Lambert, in which various friends reminisce about him – Mart Crowley, Jack Larson, Bruce Weber and others. There are some pretty ear-opening stories of the gay goings on in Tangiers in the 50s with the likes of Tennessee Williams, Lambert, Paul and Jane Bowles, Mr. Larson, Mr. Weber, and lots of other folks. One is also told that Mr. Lambert’s then lover was film director Nicholas Ray, something I never knew. I then watched the third motion picture on DVD, which was entitled I’ll See You In My Dreams, a film purportedly based on the life of lyricist Gus Kahn. Like Romance On The High Seas and My Dream Is Yours, I’ll See You In My Dreams was directed by Michael Curtiz. Why it was shot in black-and-white after the first two were in Technicolor, is anyone’s guess. It’s a handsome production, but you can see that they are taking Miss Day into a place where she’s not that comfortable, with many teary scenes and “acting” moments. Everything that made her adorable and spunky in the first two films is missing here, including, for the last half of the film, her long hair. I’m usually a sucker for these biopics, but after a nice first twenty minutes or so, I quickly grew tired of this one, and after an hour I just wanted it to be over, but there was still fifty minutes to go. Danny Thomas was not exactly a leading man to swoon over, but he has his charms in this film. Miss Day, when she’s not having to deal with the bathos, is very good, and she sings like a dream. Some rather silly casting choices, too, like Frank Lovejoy as composer Walter Donaldson, and Jim Backus as Flo Ziegfeld. The songs are certainly fun and have that lush Heindorf/Warners sound. The transfer is not quite as good as the two earlier color films, but there’s nothing really wrong with it, either.
What am I, Ebert and Roeper all of a sudden? Why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below whilst I rub my eyes even redder than they already are.
Remember – the Nose Knows. Or should that be the Knows Nose? Today, I have a little meeting in the morning or, to put it another way, a morning meeting. Then I have some whatnot to do, and then perhaps an afternoon lunch at the Farmer’s Market. I may as well ask for some excellent vibes and xylophones for the morning and afternoon hours – couldn’t hurt, and could definitely help. Send ’em my way, won’t you?
Tomorrow is going to be a very full day filled with full things to do. I have a very early rehearsal with Miss Joan Ryan, and then an envelope-stuffing meeting to send out the alumni letter of welcome I wrote. Then it’s off to a gala opening night in Hollywood, California, USA. I will, of course, have a full report on all the goings on.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, jog, meet, eat, drive about in my motor car, and do a spot of whatnot. Today’s topic of discussion: What is the worst restaurant experience you’ve ever experienced? Let’s have all the dirt and all the detail, and let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we – and remember, The Nose Knows. Send those excellent vibes and xylophones, you hear?