Amarcord- Fellini, 1973

Perhaps because we watch so many nature documentaries, the structure of this narrative is a quite familiar season to season on planet earth - in this case, in 1930’s Rimini. However, it’s also the final year a schoolboy will spend in the quaint tourist town of his childhood before he presumably moves on to the much larger, and much colder big bad world - which truly did get bad as Europe entered the Second World War. Suspected traitors were not just made to drink castor oil like his dad- a punishment meant for children. 

 The film is drenched in nostalgia - though it’s equally clear that every social institution from family to state is dysfunctional. On the family level, the problem is that the boy’s father married up, so father and son are in different classes in a very class conscious society. They can’t understand each other, and dad, though bright and capable, does not have the education to articulate thoughts. All he can do is yell and slap.

 Is that why the boy chose to leave? Very little is shown of his inner life, other than the rowdiness and sexual frustration he shares with all the other boys. Is all that stuff supposed to entertain us? The promotional poster shown above seems to offer that.

 I’d like to think he’s fleeing this very patriarchal and misogynistic society - as firmly demonstrated at the beginning by the annual custom of burning the effigy of an old woman in the town square to mark the end of Winter. Then, near the end, all the boys pelt a single, attractive, adult woman, presumably because she’s available, but not to them. 

 But maybe he’s just leaving to advance a career. Or maybe to escape an abusive father. Like the fog that drifts in from the Adriatic, the narrative is  a misty cloud, here and there punctuated by strings of festive lights, or an annoying motorcyclist who races through the streets. As with many European films of that era, the primary message seems to be “Yes we’re dysfunctional, but at least we’re cute” - and I’m not buying it. Forget your fond memories of adolescent fantasies and man up! But the cloying theme music was so sweet - and so many of the scenes were charming - especially Gradisca’s wedding reception at the very end. She’s married a fascist policeman. Oh, well …. we will always love her anyway

All About Eve - Joseph Mankiewicz, 1950

 

All About Eve - a fable about Broadway.

 This is basically a film about collaborative artists. They’re working on a play, “Aged in Wood”. Margo Channing (Bette Davis) plays the lead, Lloyd Richards ( Hugh Marlowe) wrote it, Eve Harrington (Anne Baxter) becomes the understudy, Addison Dewitt (George Sanders) is the theater critic, Bill Sampson (Gary Merrill) is a director and Margo’s boyfriend, and Karen Richard’s (Celeste Holm) is Lloyd’s wife. Eve progresses to become Margo’s successful understudy with the help of Karen and the youthful replacement is applauded by Addison, the astute critic who has "lived in the theater as a Trappist monk lives in his cell".  Forced to confront her age, Margo steps away from playing lead in Lloyd’s next project, and immediately accepts Bill’s proposal of marriage, to pursue a more private life.

Eve has proven herself to be ruthless and duplicitous in pursuit of a career and the men attached to the women who helped her.  But on Addison’s authority, we may accept that theater has been well served - while both of the men reject her advances.

 So all’s well that ends well for these artists , on stage and off - and a good supporting cast has given Bette Davis ample opportunity to express a range of emotions with her famous, half lidded eyes.  As a bonus treat, an amazing new actor, Marilyn Monroe, shows how much her face can express in the few seconds allotted to her.  Above all, we are introduced to a special world by artists who have lived in it - as opposed to movies about Roman gladiators or cowboys.

*******

On the other hand , however, we are welcomed into that special world by Addison Dewitt, the theater critic, who tells us that the only function of writers and producers is to “build a platform on which the actor may shine”. This defines a certain kind of theater that might better be called entertainment than art. He goes on to introduce the producer as the kind “who is out to make a buck”, and he does seem to instigate controversies that are not about the plays themselves. He need not have involved Eve in attacking

Margo.

Evidently, this British gentleman is slumming in the sordid alleys of American entertainment. “Unable to love or be loved”, as he puts it, he asserts “ownership” of Eve by threatening to reveal her sordid past. More than a little creepy - though there is no hint of a sexual relationship - and he only announced his ownership in order to prevent  her from trying to marry Karen’s husband. At the end, Eve is packing her bags for Hollywood, with the good possibility she will never return.  

So Broadway does not have a new star after all.  It’s just seen the impending retirement of an old one.  BTW - Eve’s natural talent truly was amazing - but possible.  Like Mozart being able to hear a concert of new music and then sit down to write the score, Eve taught herself how to act by watching a good actress over and over.  No acting classes were needed.  Everyone she knew at the  award ceremony hated her - but they all appreciated her talent.

******

The humor here is as dry as Addison’s monotone - but the title of the play that won Miss Eve the coveted  Sarah Siddons award was “Footsteps on the Ceiling”

Now that’s a hoot!

Some Like It Hot - Billy Wilder, 1959

 

It’s my guess that back in 1959 America, cross-dressing was so personally threatening, the need to laugh it off could get an audience to sit through 120 minutes of giddy horse play. Nowadays, not so much. It was nearly impossible to watch, despite the very watchable faces of Jack Lemmon and Marilyn Monroe. 

 For males,  the threat is that if they didn’t dress like men, they would no longer qualify as such - and as the story advances, it becomes ever more clear that not only does the Jack Lemmon character look better as a woman, but eventually he’d rather be one so he could marry a millionaire and be taken care of. As his boyfriend makes clear in the final scene: “ nobody’s perfect” - i.e. his cisgender is no problem.   And given his growing submissiveness to his roommate, it should be no problem for him either. His only reason for dating the old money bags was to accommodate his roommate’s attempt to tryst with Sugar (Marilyn Monroe) on the rich man’s yacht.  

 By contrast, the masculinity of that roommate is never doubted. If it wears a skirt, he’ll take it for what it’s worth - and what is worth more than a passionate (if pathetic), Marilyn Monroe: desperate for love and money and anything that helps her escape her cheap, disreputable life. Can’t see how any of this is humorous. And it only hints at what a comedy like ”Transparent” will make explicit 60 years later.

It might have worked much better as a 20 minute short,

like Laurel and Hardy made thirty years earlier.

His Girl Friday - Howard Hawks

 

.” The Front Page” (1931, Lewis Milestine),

 “His Girl Friday” ( 1940, Howard Hawks) 

 As we now suffer under the alternate reality of a totally politicized news industry, it’s hard to find any humor in the mendacity of its forebears a century ago. It’s not funny, it’s despicable - and “The Front Page” just serves to normalize it. Even more despicable is centering the drama on the careers of phony journalists while some poor witless soul may or may not be executed for murdering a black policeman. (was that really a serious crime back then?) The cynicism of “The Front Page” is unbearable - and not especially lightened by the stylized facial antics of the liar-in-chief, Adolph Menjou. 

 But it is lightened with the breezy dialog, camera movements, and gender change given the story a decade later in “His Girl Friday”.  The grim premise of the story recedes beneath a light and frothy surface that can be played over and over like a classic song. Cary Grant and Rosalind Russel are wonderful together - and so are their costumes. It’s curious how there is no sexual tension in their romantic relationship - just a light hearted zest for goofiness. Wonderful moments with the press corps as well - so you can ignore how depraved they all are. Well, it was 1940 after all - so I guess you can appreciate it as a way of coping with the impending doom of total war on a scale never seen before. ( Hitler even gets mentioned in the dialog). 

 Also liked the hopeless sincerity of Ralph Bellamy, playing the poor sod who thinks he’s found a wife. 

Isn’t he just begging to be deceived? His dreams are smashed, but he sells life insurance, so we know he had it coming. Ah, cruelty.

The craft of  American movie making traveled a long way between 1930 and 1940.

Wiody Allen - Annie Hall

Liked how Woody wrapped things up with the making of a movie within a movie - then all the sentimental flashbacks - and finally the joke about the chicken and the egg - voiced over a view of a busy New York street. Though I also liked the fact that the quip-trip into Woody’s depressing, self centered world was over. If seen in a movie theatre, I would have walked out after fifteen minutes. He’s quite upfront about his grim view of life despite his phenomenal success - and such an interior life does not interest me - no matter how clever he can be. 

Sundry observations:

* Never saw it as a satire about people who “think they’re hot shit”. Annie is struggling with low self esteem - while Alvy esteems nothing. He writes/tells jokes - people laugh - so he writes some more. 

 *Alvy meets Annie at a tennis court - as if his physicality was what attracted her. ( and women to Woody Allen as well). And she came on to him immediately with the kind of self deprecation that could be called a submission gesture. Rob had to have told Annie that her tennis partner would be a celebrity. As a struggling performer, that would have been very important. That aspect of the relationship between a struggling singer in her 20’s and a famous comedian in his forties is left out of the script. Alvy is in it for the sex. That’s why Annie leaves her body at one point when he’s humping her. We are left to speculate on what’s in it for her. Saving on the rent? 

 *great performance by Paul Simon. Truly sleezy in his sincerity. 

*did not care for the Marshall McLuhan scene — despite my distance from  academic Liberal Arts.  Pity the students sucked into the anti-aesthetic,  non-spiritual, social justice criticism that has become mainstream in American universities. Can’t see how that would affect movie making that much - but it has hit visual art especially hard because access is more of an issue.

 My problem with the scene is that it’s dumbed down. Nothing that the annoying professor says is necessarily wrong - including the reference to McLuhan. So it’s just Woody/Alvy being anti-intellectual again - like he was when he left a social gathering of his wife’s fellows writers to watch a Knicks game in the bedroom. How boorish.

*Wikipedia tells us that this film was a breakthrough for the artist. Woody went beyond farce to get serious about Jewishness, psychoanalysis, gender differences, and Modernism. I find this assertion more humorous than all the gag lines in the movie

The Apartment - Billy Wilder

Eminently watchable - over and over. Each delicious moment of acting and visuality. The sincere emotion on the face of Shirley MacLaine - the unbearable obnoxiousness of Fred Macmurray - the electric mania of Jack Lemmon - so acrobatic. But is it too silly, too unreal? I can’t imagine a real C.C. Baxter —- I just see Jack Lemmon. 

 Underneath is a negative characterization of the big city. When I first saw bits of this film earlier this year, the normalcy and frequency of furtive, recreational sex astonished me. And it was always high ranking men with low ranking women. It’s also surprising that both romantic leads had attempted suicide. What an awful place for young people to work. Things only look up - and the only true romance can begin - when both have quit their job. With no plan B.

 Their transformation was made possible by Jews. Wilder wants us to know them as compassionate, responsible , generous, competent. None of the adulterous playboys is  identifiable as Jewish - and the very worst has a Christmas tree at home. The landlady is Jewish - and she only raised the rent after installing an air conditioner. One might also note that paintings by distinguished Jewish modernists like Chagall and Rothko are up on the wall. ( Wilder was a serious collector). More significantly, the physician who saved Fran’s life is Jewish- he doesn’t charge a dime - and he’s even named Dreyfuss - in a nod to European anti-semitism. He also instructs Calvin ( his seriously Christian, but never used first name) on being a “mensch”. He is an island of morality in a sea of turpitude. 

 Officially qualified as a Jew myself - I’m partial to this ethnic propaganda - but as a film viewer, I have to say it’s nonsense and diminishes the inner truth of the movie.  Sure some Jews are like Dr. Dreyfus - but some are like Jeffrey Epstein as well.

White Lotus Season Two

 

This season has been quite uneven for me.  Love the scenery, love the ubiquitous sculpture,  love the music.  But by episode four, I’ve gotten tired of the one dimensional characters - which is all of them except for Mia - the carefree, uninhibited lounge singer ( and a very good one, too).  She’s a part time sex worker, but not at the expense of her dignity. She recoils at the piano man’s offer to advance her career in exchange for sex, until she understands it as just a way to get what she wants. And like the statue shown above  ( I guess this variant of the testa Moro is common in Sicily) her gender is flexible.

In Hawaii, the White Lotus resort was a family getaway.  In Thailand it’s a spiritual retreat.  In Sicily it’s more about sexual adventure - but other than sex between married partners, 100% of the sex is with hookers.  I don’t necessarily consider this depraved - but the opportunities for serious drama are limited unless a there’s something like a La Traviata courtesan romance.  By the end of episode six this may  happen between Albie and Lucia.

Several other dramatic lines are becoming clarified and reaching towards resolution at that moment as well. As with the sexual act itself, it's the mounting tension rather than the resolution that's the most compelling, so I'll write about this season now, before watching the concluding episdode. 

What will Harper and Ethan do about their marriage? Harper has done all that she can: she’s complained that their sexual relationship is dead - and then tried to make Ethan jealous.  It’s all up to Ethan now.  An easy going guy, he’s finally angry and doing some hard thinking.  Does he still want Harper in his life now that he’s become wealthy?  I can’t figure why he would want to marry such a shrew in the first place - but maybe we’ll get to see another side of her.

What will happen to rich Tanya and her assistant, poor Portia? At the end of episode six, a drunken Jack has let the cat out of the bag (at least for me). The wealthy Quentin pulled him up from the gutter for sex and other uses, and now his job is to keep Portia away from Tanya so Quentin can get a piece of her 500 million. Yes ... Quentin is a creep who makes friends so he can betray them. Can Mike White conceive of a gay character who is not depraved? Hopefully Portia will try her best to save Tanya and survive the sinking ship to become sadder but wiser.

Hopefully all the other characters will do the same - at least Albie and Mia who are at the beginning of hopeful adult lives.  Lucia is too entangled with the local underworld to escape. There’s always the chance that Dominic’s wife will fly in from L.A. to reconcile with her husband, but this is not Fantasy Island.

********

Well… the ending was more than I had hoped for — even if, once again, saturated in patriarchal values.

The evil, scheming Gays are all slaughtered by the rich/poor old fag hag as she desperately tries to save her life - and like Madame Butterfly she ends her own life - though inadvertently in a final act of clumsy helplessness.

Portia and Albie are sadder but wiser - and have exchanged phone numbers at the airport. (Equivalent to marrying at the end of a Shakespeare comedy)

Dominic is well on his way to being forgiven by his absent wife - thanks to Albie’s transactional intervention. I thought the monetary exchange was repulsive - but as with the sex workers, everyone got what they needed.

There was no drama in the Daphne/Cameron marriage. He does what he wants and she gets what she wants.  We can only admire her wisdom: “don’t be a victim to life”

While the intense drama between Harper and Ethan has been resolved, at least temporarily, the old fashioned way:  he finally felt like fucking her - as Mount Etna shot fire and smoke into the sky. Hurray for male desire!  No discussion  necessary. The way of the alpha male.

The season ends on a happy note as Mia and Lucia triumphantly stroll arm in arm down a narrow, busy street in urban Sicily.  Lucia had enlisted a male accomplice to help score 50,000 Euros from Albie, while Mia now has a permanent gig at the piano bar of the White Lotus - and then helped her new boss, the resort’s director, Valentina, launch her life as a Lesbian. 

All’s well that ends well.

I love happy endings.

and would really like to visit Sicily

if only I could afford the hookers

and stay in an art filled palazzo.

*******

One final thought:

It did occur to me that Roman Catholicism is as endemic to Sicily as Buddhism is to Thailand, yet it’s almost completely absent from the ambience of Season Two. Two paintings of saints are all I can recall.

********

Perugino, St. Sebastian

Topics discussed on Reddit

Concerning Season Two as a whole

For me, Season Two was all about Romantic ambience of the place - in contrast to the exclusively non-romantic sexual relationships. The music, scenery, art and other furnishings were so much better than the other seasons that I really didn’t miss the profundities. Episode 7 was great, and the final shot of Mia arm in arm with Lucia is unforgettable. Loved those girls. When Mia began to belt out her goofy version of Amore, it saved the season. And she turned out to be something of a sex therapist. What a wonderful human being. I certainly agree about the DiGrasso’s. Way less engaging than the Mossbachers. Eventually all of the tourists got tiresome - though I did admire Daphne the most. She was a child centric mom with the motto : “ Do whatever you have to not to feel like a victim of life”. Words to live by.

Concerning the singing of Beatrice Granno (Mia) :

At that point in the film, I was beginning to get bored with the repetitive petty dramas — so when a bright eyed girl started belting out old chestnuts in such a unique, fresh style .... it was thrilling. In reality, if I were actually sitting in a restaurant, she'd be disruptive. But she does express such a raw, unaffected love of life. She's not covering a song as much as filling the space with joy. I might well have been grateful for just that special moment. She's an artist - doing what artists are supposed to do. 

At the end of the final episode, the smiling Mia and Lucia walk arm-in-arm down the crowded streets of Taormina. Their joy is an antidote to all the sadness that came before. The escort and the artist - appropriate companions in a film that prominently featured the music of Puccini. Don't think that 50 grand Lucia milked from Albie will last very long, however 

 Concerning the Homophobia of Mike White:

A director need not be homophobic for his film to broadcast atavistic attitudes. As with a Shakespeare comedy, heterosexuality has triumphed with all the male/female couples re-uniting at the end: Portia/ Albie, Dominic/off-screen wife, Ethan/Harper, Daphne/ Cameron. And as with Season One, the most transgressive gays have been slaughtered by heterosexuals. The patriarchal order has been restored in a most violent fashion. 

Gangsters could have been hired to bump off Tanya with no need for a party of old, upper class, art loving men to be the intermediaries. But that would have been much less fun. And if those men weren't all gay, wouldn't it have been much less believable? Mike White is a great filmmaker - yet we also might notice that this masterpiece of satire is deeply conservative

******

Domenico Beccafumi, St. Lucy

The artworks in Season Two are discussed in "Artworks are more than just plot clues in The White Lotus season 2 – they are the show’s silent witnesses", an essay published in TheConversation.com , an international web that solicits and publishes essays whose content would be suitable for academic approval but whose style is journalistic.

Predictably, it eschews aesthetic response while focusing on White Lotus as a critique of the wealthy. Hurray for Marxism!  But it does have. this great video that juxtaposes a scene from Antonioni’s L’Avventura with the scene from White Lotus that quotes it.

here is my response:

Can’t artworks also more than just “silent witnesses” ? For some, they can be portals into specific, passionate attachments to life - contributing to the ambience of the entire season two of White Lotus. The paintings by Perugino and Beccafumi deepen the humanity of characters who might otherwise be dismissed as comic stereotypes. 

You did a great service in providing good reproductions. But similarly, you did a disservice by showing two mediocre Testa di Moro instead of the thrilling one actually used on the set. Believe it or not - when it comes to art - beauty actually can make a difference - even if it’s irrelevant to your notion of “academic vigor” .