Well, dear readers, yesterday was The Return of the Patty Melt. Yes, you heard it here, dear readers, yesterday was The Return of the Patty Melt, which, believe it or not, is not the sequel to The Return of the Patty Cake. Some history: I used to love the patty melt at the Hamburger Hamlet. In days of olde, I would have that all the time at the Hamlet. Then, for whatever reasons, I stopped having the patty melt. And it’s been over twenty years since I’ve had a patty melt, although I suppose I could be misremembering. In any case, there I was at Jerry’s Deli. I got my usual booth. I was happy and gay. I looked over to my left and the fellow in the next booth was having what looked like a patty melt. And it looked very tasty. Yet, I hadn’t really noticed that a patty melt was available at Jerry’s. Normally I wouldn’t order such a thing at Jerry’s Deli, save for the fact that for whatever reasons they happen to do a really good bacon cheeseburger. So, I asked my waitress if that was indeed a patty melt and she replied in the affirmative. So, I located it on the menu – it was not under burgers, which is probably why I took no notice. It was, in fact, under melts. I promptly ordered it and some sweet potato fries and hoped for the best. It arrived and I was about to order a little cup of raw onions because I didn’t think they’d put any on, but there they were – so it was just like the patty melt I used to get at the Hamlet. It was already cut in half, so I picked up one half, dunked it in some ketchup and had a bite and it was gloriously glorious, it was a taste treat, it was a patty melt. I didn’t really need the sweet potato fries and should have just had a side of cole slaw or something like that, but I now know that for the future and I can assure you the future will hold more patty melts at Jerry’s Deli – maybe even this very day.
Prior to The Return of the Patty Melt, I’d gotten up around nine-thirty. The helper came by and got some invoices and then I began finessing the writing from the previous day. That took a bit of time, and then I wrote a couple of new pages, which, I must say, I had a blast writing. Then I went to Jerry’s Deli and had the patty melt. Then I called the mail place only to be told that once again there were no packages. So, I came home and wrote another four pages, after which I took a little break. I then had a nice visit with our very own Mr. Nick Redman. After that, I decided to watch a motion picture on the computer – SAG has given us codes to download movies to watch that they want us to consider for performances. So, one puts in a code and one gets the movie, in this case, Hitchcock, starring Mr. Anthony Hopkins and Miss Helen Mirren. Once one begins watching one only has twenty-four hours and then the thing goes away. I also downloaded the Hotel Marigolds thing and The Sessions.
Let’s just get out of the way right now that Mr. Hopkins and Miss Mirren are wonderful actors. Therefore, having to watch them in a film as monumentally bad as Hitchcock is painful. It’s shocking to me that some pretty well respected critics actually gave this awful film a pass – not only that, they liked it a lot. I guess they think it’s okay to present a movie about a public figure and an event and have it be total fiction and bad fiction at that. There is so much wrong with this film from beginning to end I wouldn’t even know where to start. It’s directed poorly, the script feels like it was written by someone who just got out of Robert McKee’s screenwriting class. The number of stupid errors this film makes is mind-boggling. If one were to believe what was on the screen one would think Psycho was shot on the Paramount lot. It wasn’t. If one were to believe this film one would think that the James Stewart/Anthony Mann film Winchester ’73 was “a dog.” Not only was it not “a dog,” it was a hit, and it’s a classic. If one were to believe this film, Mr. Hitchcock berated his actors to get a performance out of them. Fail. That is not how Mr. Hitchcock worked and all that is well documented. The film is purportedly about the making of Psycho. But it’s really about Hitchcock having a suspicion that wife Alma may have been having a dalliance. Pure fiction. If one were to believe this film one would believe that Anthony Perkins was a needy actor who had to have Hitchcock explain scenes to him. No. That is not how Hitchcock worked and that is well documented. And it’s just one thing after another along those same lines. The fact that none of that was an issue for, oh, Roger Ebert, only means that it’s really time for Mr. Ebert to stop being a critic, because who can take him seriously. But it’s not only him. It’s Peter Travers, a quote hooker if ever there was one. It’s others, too. But then there were the majority of critics who called this film for what it is – bad, factually inane, and poorly done. Yes, Mr. Hopkins does well even if he doesn’t really resemble Mr. Hitchcock. Helen Mirren does well even if she doesn’t really resemble Mrs. Hitchcock. And, best of all, according to this film, it was Mrs. Hitchcock who “saved” Psycho, reediting the film with Hitch and his editor, and insisting that the shower scene have Bernard Herrmann music. Say what? There we nothing to reedit. The film was the film. It was Herrmann who pleaded to write the music for the shower scene, not Hitchcock’s wife. I mean how stupid are these people? For me, the worst film of the year and right up there with The Girl in making a mockery of one of the greatest filmmakers in the history of film. Shame on all of them.
After that, I buckled down Winsocki and wrote a little over five more pages, so close to twelve pages for the day. I purposely didn’t finish the chapter, so I can dive right in this morning and do so, then move on to the next chapter, a little chapter I like to call ten. I then had a very interesting telephonic conversation with someone in the United Kingdom. We’ll see where it leads. Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below because I must get a good night’s beauty sleep.
Today, I shall finesse, futz and fix yesterday’s writing, and then I shall write new pages all the livelong day. I may have another patty melt, hopefully I’ll pick up some very errant and truant packages, I have to put gas in the motor car, then I’ll write some more, then watch the Marigold Hotel movie, then write.
Tomorrow will be more writing, and then I’m definitely going out for a nice supper, perhaps an early supper. Sunday will be more writing, and then I have a work session with a singer. Next week will be mighty busy with lots o’ writing, getting the next batch o’ pages to Muse Margaret, meetings, meals, and whatnot.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, finesse, futz and fix, write new pages, eat (maybe even another patty melt), hopefully pick up some very errant and truant packages, write, watch a motion picture, and write. Today’s topic of discussion: It’s Friday – what is currently in your CD player and your DVD/video player? I’ll start – CD, lots o’ Kritzerland upcoming projects. Blu and Ray, maybe something foreign. Or maybe Downton Abbey season three if it arrives. Your turn. Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, happy to have had The Return of the Patty Melt.