Well, dear readers, last night I watched a rather brilliant motion picture on DVD, entitled A Place in the Sun, starring Mr. Montgomery Clift and Miss Elizabeth Taylor, along with Miss Shelley Winters. As I’ve mentioned, we’re putting out the first ever release of all the surviving cues from the soundtrack, about fifty-one gloriously glorious minutes of music by Mr. Franz Waxman (with a little help from Daniele Amfitheatrof and Victor Young). I’ve only seen the film maybe once before, but boy is it good – there’s a reason why it’s so beloved and why it’s so iconic. I watched in preparation of writing the liner notes (I’d actually begun them and done the little pre-history of the novel, play, and first film version). The film is so luscious on so many levels – the gorgeous photography of William Mellor (he won the Oscar for it), the score by Waxman (he won the Oscar for it), George Stevens evenly-paced and elegant direction (he won the Oscar for it) and the very good screenplay by Michael Wilson and Harry Brown (they won the Oscar for it). The shocker at the Oscars that year (A Place in the Sun won six of all it was nominated for) is that despite all those major wins it did not win Best Picture – that award went to An American in Paris.
In doing a little research I wanted to read some reviews from back when it was released, although I know they were rhapsodic – the film was a huge hit with both critics and audiences – but I could find none. Instead I found a couple of reviews that were so irritating because they were written by pedantic, pedestrian, and pontificating (the three Ps) “critics” – but critics of a certain stripe – critics that are above mere mortals and who lambast this great film as ordinary and whine about how critics and audiences loved it and how the Oscars bestowed upon it six awards. These little men make my blood boil or, at the very least, make it simmer. One particular no-nothing thinks the film’s popularity is a slight to his auteur heroes, Ford, Hitchcock and Hawks, as if it was some kind of race that had to be won. This guy worships at the alter of Andrew Sarris and is so predictable in his predictability. Mr. Ford, Mr. Hitchcock and Mr. Hawks were wildly successful filmmakers – just because George Stevens made a superb movie is not a slap in the face – it means he made a superb movie. That same year, Mr. Hitchcock also made a superb movie called Strangers on a Train, the movie that gave Guy Haines to the world. Vincente Minnelli made An American in Paris that year. John Huston made The African Queen that year. Elia Kazan made A Streetcar Named Desire that year. William Wyler made Detective Story that year. Billy Wilder made Ace in the Hole that year. All those movies are excellent in one way or another. Some were hits, some weren’t. But Mr. Stevens’ film looms high on that list and it has endured all these years, much to the chagrin of this particular critic, whose name is Dave Kehr, who is certainly one of the worst critics I’ve ever read – consistently. The little auteur game you play, Mr. Kehr, is a bore, and so are you. I haz spoken. In any case, A Place in the Sun is kind of a delirious viewing experience, with some of the most beautiful close-ups ever put on film.
I have been having so much fun scanning and sharing that I did some more of it last night. I sometimes forget how many great matchbooks I’ve gotten over the last few years – sometimes that’s the only way to get a memento of one’s childhood favorite restaurants, so I began snatching them up whenever I could find them. In fact, there’s really only one restaurant left that I lack anything for – our local barbecue place until it bit the dust in the late 1950s – Pete ‘n’ Percy’s on La Cienega. It was a great place and had sawdust on the floor, which was mighty impressive to the young me.
I was also asked if I had a Coffee Dan’s menu. I was sure I’d gotten one, but it’s not anywhere to be found if I did. I do know what I ate there – always the Dodger Burger, which came with a iceberg lettuce wedge dripping with Roquefort dressing. I find it ever so amusing that the iceberg lettuce wedge has suddenly become hip, with all these people who’ve eaten nothing but healthy shrubs masquerading as a salad, now clamoring for their iceberg wedge. But amongst my many LA, Hollywood, and Valley postcards I found this great shot of Hollywood Boulevard at night. On the right, you’ll see the Coffee Dan’s that was located next door to the Hollywood Theater. I went there often. But I could also swear there was one on the other end of the boulevard, near the Warner Cinerama Theater, down by Cahuenga, but I’ve found no proof of that. What I didn’t know was that there was a classic one in Van Nuys – I drove up there and it’s easy to see exactly where it was. In this shot, you’ll also notice on the left Pickwick Books, the greatest bookshop ever and on the same side of the street but west of that was where Diamond Jim’s would take up residence a few years after this shot was taken.
I didn’t realize how many matchbooks I had from my father’s restaurant. This one is the earliest – the phone number consisted of only four numbers at this point and the prefix was EXposition, which was changed to DUnkirk because there was already an EX prefix in Santa Monica called EXbrook. And at this point in time, probably the late 1940s (the restaurant opened in the mid-1930s I believe), this was the only instance ever of my father’s name above the title as it were – and as you can see in the second shot of the backside of the matchbook case, his name appeared a second time as “Your Host.” It’s also the only time I’ve ever seen the word “cafe” used in conjunction with the name of the restaurant.
This next one is from the early 1950s – you’ll note he’d opened a second Kiru, this one in the Miracle Mile on Wilshire Blvd. It could have made him a wealthy man, but he made a huge mistake with it – he made it a dinner restaurant. It was too elegant for luncheon in that kind of neighborhood and it folded after only a short time. The next tenant would do the right thing – they made it a lunch jernt and from the day it opened it became hugely popular with the populace and was there for decades as one of the most popular eateries in LA. The name of the jernt? A little restaurant called Van de Kamp’s. Oh, well.
I’ve never been able to snag a menu from our favorite neighborhood coffee shop, Stats – we liked that one better than Gaby’s, which I do have a menu for. At Stats my favorite was the cheeseburger, which at that point was completely unique – the cheese was put in the middle of the patty so that when you bit into it the cheese came oozing out, and I think you know I’m all about oozing cheese. After many years of searching I finally found a matchbook from Stats. You’ll notice there was another couple of locations – ours was the Pico Blvd. one, and eventually they opened a branch near the Wilshire Theater on Wilshire Blvd. near La Cienega. That Stats was certainly there well into the 1970s – it was just east of the Wilshire Theater.
Finally, in the first Kritzer book I wrote about our neighborhood Mexican jernt, which was like no other Mexican jernt in terms of food taste – not before, not since – I can still taste their tortillas and their enchiladas, which were incredible and, as I said, unique. Again, it took many years, but I finally scored a matchbook from there.
So, yesterday was a weirdly weird day. I slept until ten-thirty, but I hadn’t fallen asleep till after two. It was too late to jog at that point, so I did some work on the computer and then went and had a small turkey sandwich and no fries or onion rings. Then I came home, started the liner notes, got news that the release of A Place in the Sun would probably be delayed for about three weeks, which is fine, and then I did a three-mile jog. I did a few more things on the computer, had a few telephonic calls about this and that and also that and this, and then I went and picked up three packages and one really irritating piece of mail that went directly into the trash unopened.
Then I came home and the helper came over and we did a Costco run, because she’s leaving town on Friday and won’t return for nine long days. I got a lot of water (I was completely out) and some interesting Perrier waters with pink grapefruit flavor and lime flavor – we’ll see what THOSE are like. And I got some low-calorie treats, too. One interesting thing that’s happened this week is that for the first time since I began losing weight I looked in the mirror and really saw it and it made me feel really good. I’d also worn my black jeans the other day – back in February I was at my all-time highest weight – those jeans say that they’re size 33 but I could still get in them, barely, and my annoying tummy would hang over them obscenely. Well, when I put them on the other day, they fit very comfortably with at least an inch of space in the waist, and a lot of space in the butt. And today, I put on a pair of jeans I couldn’t even think about wearing even two months ago – they’re a bit snug but buttoned easily and weren’t uncomfortable at all – and do you know what size those are? Size 32. Now, I don’t believe that – I think they just stick these labels on pants and you either fit in them or you don’t. The truth, I suspect, is that I’m approaching being able to fit in anything that’s a size 34, and that was my goal four months ago. I am trying to get to either 33 or 32, but it’s not that important to me, but I’ll keep at this until I do just to see if I can. My goal for that event is the September three-year anniversary Kritzerland show. If I’m where I want to be, then I’ll be buying the first suit I’ve bought in over a decade. And I’ll but it at JOS Bank so that a second suit will be half price and a third will be free.
After that, I watched A Place in the Sun and the first twenty minutes of Poltergeist II, a film I haven’t seen since either it first came out, or maybe its laserdisc release. It’s been a long time, that I know, but I was in the mood so that was my movie choice. Then I decided to do a second jog – a mile-and-a-half – and that was my day and that was my evening.
Today, I shall be up and at ‘em, I shall jog, I shall eat, I shall hopefully pick up some packages, I shall finish writing liner notes and I shall prep our new release announcement and decide whether we’ll announce tomorrow morning or next Monday morning – I suspect it will be the latter.
Tomorrow, I have a work session with Shelly Markham for the upcoming Kritzerland show, and I have lots of other stuff to do, and I’m seeing a show on Friday night. I’m hoping the weekend remains free.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, do a jog, eat, finish liner notes, hopefully pick up some packages, prep our new release, and relax. Today’s topic of discussion: It’s Ask BK Day, the day in which you get to ask me or any dear reader any old question you like and we get to give any old answer we like. So, let’s have loads of lovely questions and loads of lovely answers and loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland with no boiling blood because I have determined that these so-called critics are not worth having boiled blood over.