Well, dear readers, let us discuss the curious case of Peter Bogdanovich. Let’s. I don’t think it’s much of a secret that I have always found him a narcissist’s narcissist, with an annoying way of speaking and sucking his teeth at the same time, as if there were bits of food in them he was trying to get out, and his ever-present dickies or whatever you call those silly things he wore to disguise his chicken neck as he grew older. He began as an obsessive moviegoer and critic, seeking out the likes of Hitchcock and Ford. He made the leap to filmmaking with Targets. It’s a good film with a completely embarrassing performance from Bogdanovich himself. Boris Karloff really saves the day. Then came his breakout film, The Last Picture Show. I saw it at Filmex prior to its release. I enjoyed the performances and the film but found it too long. In fact, I thought it would never end. There’s no denying its classic status, but one can see the footprints of John Ford, Howard Hawks, and even Hitchcock in his direction. Then came What’s Up, Doc, which I saw at a Major Studio Preview at the Chinese if memory serves. Here, imitating his beloved Howard Hawks, but with a stellar cast of comic players, everything clicked, and it was a huge and well-deserved hit. Next came Paper Moon and that, too, clicked and was a huge hit. Then he left his wife, took up with Cybill Shepherd, made Daisy Miller for her – a HUGE flop, followed by another HUGE flop, At Long Last Love. The golden boy was golden no more. That was followed by another HUGE flop, Nickelodeon. Then came Saint Jack, which was critically acclaimed but not exactly a moneymaker. Then it was They All Laughed, which many consider to be his masterpiece, but not me, sorry, I cannot stand one minute of it. It was also a HUGE flop. Then he finally had a hit – Mask, although he did nothing but complain about it. Cher had nothing nice to say about working with him. Then came the rest of his career – one flop after another. The ONLY reason he got to make his final fiction film, She’s Funny That Way is because Wes Anderson and Noah Baumbach, two filmmakers whose films do nothing for me, lent their names to the film. This was a man whose ego remained unbridled and who was never bothered by how much money he was losing people. As Cher said, it was always about him. He was an actor on The Sopranos, playing an insufferable therapist insufferably. So, why am I writing this? Because yesterday during a telephonic conversation with Muse Margaret, she mentioned that she’d watched She’s Funny That Way and hated every second of it. I’d never heard of it. She said it was trying really hard to be a Woody Allen movie. I didn’t see how a Bogdanovich movie could be like a Woody Allen movie, so it was on the Tube of You and I decided to watch it. From frame one it’s clear he’s trying to get back to the glory days of What’s Up, Doc, that kind of breathlessly paced farce, only the problem is that those glory days were fifty years before. And boy was the Muse right – it’s all yellow, just like Carlo di Palma’s movies for Woody. The dialogue is not funny, the characters are not funny. The performances struggle along due to the characters and the writing. Imogen Poots has the worst Brooklyn accent you’ll ever hear (she’s English), Rhys Ifans is terrible and completely unfunny, Jennifer Aniston plays a thoroughly stupid and unbelievable character, who’s funniest line is, “I have to change my Tampon.” Yep. Even Cybill Shepherd is in it. There are some cameo appearances – Tatum O’Neal, Michael Shannon, and Quentin Tarantino – but it just plods along for ninety-three unfunny minutes and then it’s over. He made a couple of documentaries after that and then he passed away. I couldn’t stand any commentary tracks that he was on, and I couldn’t listen to him pontificating on TCM or other programs. And that’s the curious case of Peter Bogdanovich in my opinion.
Yesterday was fine. I got about six hours of sleep, answered e-mails, showered, and then had a very belated birthday lunch (my birthday) with Richard Sherman and daughter Vicki. Richard gave me a coffee table book about musicals that I’m looking forward to going through, and we went to our usual jernt, Fabricini’s on Beverly Glen. I had the rigatoni with sausage in a vodka sauce, Richard had chicken piccata, and Vicki had fettucini Alfredo with chicken. The food was great but not as great as seeing one of my most beloved friends and laughing the afternoon away. It was a tonic, I tell you, and I tell you it was a tonic. Here is an actual photograph of us from yesterday.
After that, I came home and did NOT stop at K’s Donuts. Once home, I was happy to get the first of the blurbs, this one from director Randal Kleiser, director of Grease, The Blue Lagoon, Big Top Pee Wee and many others. I’ll share that in tomorrow’s notes, but I was VERY happy with it. Then I had a conversation with Muse Margaret – just wanted her to hear the blurb – I posted another song on Facebook, this one Emily Skinner and Alice Ripley singing Every Day a Little Death. Then I watched the movie and here we are.
Today, I’ll be up when I’m up, I’ll go to the mail place, I’ll do whatever needs doing, but basically, it’ll be a ME day – I’ll eat something fun, and of course, I’ll watch, listen, and relax.
This week is very busy – getting the book to the designers, approving the packaging so we can get the last two CD releases to the pressing plant, writing, meetings and meals, and then I do believe we’ll be having a new month very soon.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, be up when I’m up, go to the mail place, do whatever needs doing, have a ME day, eat, and watch, listen, and relax. Today’s topic of discussion: It’s free-for-all day, the day in which you dear readers get to make with the topics and we all get to post about them. So, let’s have loads of lovely topics and loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, as we ponder the curious case of one Peter Bogdanovich.