Four Quotations

1. "Poor ruffians, their lives vanished like a dream." - OUTLAWS OF THE MARSH 2. Okay, so when I got back from my travels, my schedule was a little mixed up, so once I was up when I should have been sleeping, watching TCM instead, and they aired an old trailer for the Bobby Van movie SMALL TOWN GIRL. You may recall it as the movie, previously mentioned, but not by name, on the "blog," in which Bobby Van hops around. Anyway, the trailer announcer says, of Bobby Van, "His dancing is as new as a rocket trip to the moon." And I thought, well, that's not true. It wasn't true then. It's not true now. And, in fact, it was never true. 3. I was going to call this "post" "Two Quotations," which is a much better title for reasons I cannot fully explain... not even to myself! For one thing, "two" is a cool word and "four" is a punk-ass word. And not in the good way! But something bugged me last night and I keep thinking about it and even though I know that no one will care about it, I also don't care that no one will care about it. So, my current "nighttime book" is I REMEMBER by the famed Oulipo writer Georges Perec. I should mention that it is, put simply, a list of things that Georges Perec remembered. So I'm lying there reading and I'm thinking, hey, I remember a number of these things. Hey, maybe I should count the number of things I remember that Georges Perec also rememebered. Hey, no, I'm not going to do that, what a waste of time, which has never stopped me before. Hey, but I'm already done with half of the book. To go back and start over seems like a lot of work. I'm not into that! BUT! I said to myself, BUT! When I skimmed over the introduction and the translator's note, didn't they kind of imply that I would remember none of this, and that I'd lie here scratching my head and crying my way through the experience? So I looked at the translator's note (by Philip Terry), which quotes ANOTHER translator calling I REMEMBER Perec's "most untranslatable book... a collection of brief rembrances of things and people that are indecipherable to anyone not French and not of his generation," which isn't true at all... and it must be admitted that a small dab of skepticism is applied by Philip Terry to the quotation. (As for Perec's generation, he was born in 1936, if you care. I don't.) 4. HOWEVER! In the introduction, the co-translator and co-editor David Bellos claims - of a stage adaptation performed in 2003 - that the "majority of the spectators of the show cannot conceivably share any of Perec's memories directly." Well, that's not true, is it? It's the "conceivably" and the "any" to which I principally object. Like... okay. Here's one example. Perec remembers that Warren Beatty and Shirley MacLaine are brother and sister. It's probably an exaggeration to say that everybody knows that. But everybody knows that. And they remember it the same way Perec remembered it, from hearing it or reading it somewhere. I doubt that Warren Beatty came over to Perec's house and said, "Hey, guess what? Shirley MacLaine is my sister!" So we all remember it just the way Perec did. In fact, both Shirley MacLaine and Warren Beatty are alive as I type this. It's not like Perec lived on a different planet a million years ago. So maybe Warren Beatty WILL come to your house and tell you who his sister is. It could happen! That's all I'm saying. I guess I should also stipulate that sure, a lot of the time I don't know what the hell Perec is talking about. But I've always enjoyed reading things I don't understand. Other people have told me that they "look things up." I get it. But I don't do it.

High-Profile Fans

Here's something that blew my mind and maybe it will blow yours. But I doubt it! Your mind can't be blown, can it? You've seen it all! Your mind has crusted over with blow-proof grit. Anyway! I was watching BONJOUR TRISTESSE yesterday, and I texted Megan something about it - Megan Abbott, that is, as her surname will become significant in the following tale. So, the movie is over and I'm responding to a text from Megan about something else... Andre Gregory, if you must know. Yes, yes, Andre Gregory is the sort of subject we text about, that's how we are. Not that it matters! Because I had recorded BONJOUR TRISTESSE from a showing on TCM. So after the movie, host Ben Mankiewicz gets on there to remind me what I just saw, in case I forgot. And this time, he says how BONJOUR TRISTESSE was not a big critical hit upon its release but now it has... and here I will quote... "high-profile fans such as The New Yorker's Richard Brody, writer Megan Abbott, and actor Amy Poehler." Wait! Back up! Did you notice that middle one? I was texting Megan at the same time Ben Mankiewicz yelled her name from my TV. Maybe he wasn't yelling.

Recent Developments

Having watched a couple of different movies about Odysseus lately, I've learned something important: Odysseus was just about naked a lot of the time. Last year, Dr. Theresa and I went on a big kick of watching Biblical epics and other movies set in ancient times. One we really liked starred Ralph Fiennes as Odysseus. At the end, I lugged out my hardcover translation by Robert Fagles, like, did such-and-such really happen in the poem? And if I recall correctly, it did, whatever it was I got so worked up about. So then the other day I watched an Italian movie, which I had recorded from TCM, with Kirk Douglas as Odysseus, and it was a lot of fun. They had a good Cyclops. Then I was like, "I should read THE ODYSSEY again. But I am too old and tired to drag out this Robert Fagles edition so many times (twice), and my gnarled, elderly hands and arms like twigs are too frail to hold it up in bed at night. But hey! If memory serves, wasn't there a recent translation I should check out?" So yesterday I went by Square Books and found the recent translation of which I was thinking, by Emily Wilson. It was in paperback, and I bought it with money. Recent! I checked the copyright page and it came out in 2018. That still seems recent to me. When did that happen? When did seven years begin to feel like nothing, really? Like, when I was 16, I didn't go around thinking, "I was recently nine!" But as you get older, things that happened longer and longer ago seem more and more recent. You'll find out! And I suppose, when you're thinking about THE ODYSSEY, everything is recent. But what I really want to say is Athena is there right out of the gate. To mix sports metaphors, she comes out swinging! And you know what I was thinking: "She famously hangs out with owls!" And yes, it isn't too long before she is described as "the owl-eyed goddess." What's more, she "flew away like a bird, up through the smoke." And what did Telemachus think about that? "Watching her go, he was amazed." No kidding! Oh, Telemachus, you crazy kid, when will you ever learn?

I Guess So

Well, am I going to start telling you every time I run across a book with the phrase "night birds" in it? I guess so! Last night, I thought otherwise. I lay there reading in this book, "They sat and listened to the night birds and the surf." And I was like, well, those are definitely not owls, so there is no need to wonder whether or not I should put this excellent crime novel I am reading on my big long list of books with owls in them. Allow me to explain my thinking! The book takes place in Hawaii. Now, are there owls in Hawaii? I am happy to say yes. But I couldn't imagine owls hanging out at the beach (see the part of the sentence about "the surf"). But maybe they do! Maybe that's my next pitch for an animated TV show: OWL BEACH. Owls on surfboards! Oh boy! Yeah, but this morning, my curiosity got the better of me and I wanted to know what kind of owls they have in Hawaii. Now, I usually don't care about anything, especially looking up facts, and just look at the kind of trouble looking up facts gets you into. You discover things that seem interesting. It's a real pain. Like, I found this article about the owls of Hawaii ("click" here). And look. I know that one day it will become a zombie "link." That's one of the reasons why I don't "link" to outside sources anymore. But come on! There is a lot of prime owl material there. For example, "In a legend from Maui, Pueonuiakea, an owl god, guides lost souls safely back to their homes." This is nice to hear! Especially because owls are called upon to be scary death symbols so often. It's a pleasant change of pace for the owls, guiding lost souls safely back to their homes. Although, when you think about it, could this be applied to heaven above? Oh, let's not think about it, nor all the hymns I heard as a child that would back me up on this questionable theory. It's too much! I've gone too far! Now, let me tell you, I'm really enjoying this book, FIVE DECEMBERS by James Kestrel. I even sent McNeil a copy! And I don't even know the ending yet. I emphasize my admiration because there was one meaningless little detail that nagged at me. See? This is what you get for caring about things! Caring about things is useless. But, so, these characters go to a movie in 1945. They leave at the end, after "the credits rolled." Did credits roll in 1945? I feel that they did not. Most movies, I believe... almost all! Not all, but almost all. Most movies, as I was saying, did not even have closing credits in 1945. And if they did, I don't think those credits "rolled" very much. They just sat there. Maybe, in a very few instances, they rolled a tiny little bit. But by any stretch, I don't believe a case could be made that it was a period-appropriate thought in 1945 for closing credits, if a character was even aware of the existence of closing credits (and our protagonist has never heard of Ingrid Bergman or Gregory Peck! So his knowledge of credits may be assumed to be... ha ha, I'm boring myself so much), to be "rolling." Who cares? I don't! Why is this stuck in my head? I just feel like... I guess James Kestrel doesn't have any friends who watch TCM. A friend who could have told him about the history of closing credits! A friend like... ME??? Is this the kind of pedantic little thing I'm going to worry about now? I guess so! Is this the kind of close examination of an unimportant fragment that I would wish to be applied to my own work? Never! As I have remarked repeatedly in my long life, "It's okay when I do it." Now, the movie is SPELLBOUND, and for all I know, maybe SPELLBOUND ends with one of those rare little credit rolls. I guess I don't care enough to watch it again and find out. But maybe that's the case and this is just like the time I couldn't imagine a dog "resting her chin on her four paws." We see where that got me! Nowhere. Which is where I like to be. POSTSCRIPT! I was asleep, and sprang awake thinking that of course to "roll the credits" just means to roll that part of the film through the projector, justifying my knee-jerk four-paw dog-fear presumption. Maybe? If so, it does not mean, as I implied, that the credits can be seen to roll or scroll from the bottom of the screen to the top. Sorry I doubted you, James Kestrel! However! Most of what I said still makes sense. In 1945, no one would expect a movie to "roll credits" at the end, no matter the meaning of the phrase. I leave you to your thoughts and trust that you all will kindly go to hell.

Gasp!

Yesterday, I was sitting in my favorite chair, watching a movie called YOUNG BESS, which I had recorded off of TCM. It wasn't the most interesting movie ever made, and my eye wandered to the side table, where THE TEMPTATION OF SAINT ANTONY was just lying there. I thought, and may have muttered half-aloud, "Well, this book has every kind of animal in it, including some that don't exist, but no owls! And here I am almost at the end of it." Indeed, friends, I was closer to the end than I knew: many of the remaining pages were taken up by "Notes to the Translation." (A wonderful translation by Kitty Mrosovsky, I should add!) There were but three scant pages of the text itself to go! Anyhow, with the movie still playing, I opened it up, and right there, on the third page from the end, there were owls! Owls! Reader, I actually gasped. I gasped at the owls. I don't think I gasp very often. But maybe I am going around gasping all the time without knowing it. This time, I noticed. Nor were they just any owls. They were "owls with snakes' tails." Now, that's something you don't see every day, brother.

Le Bits de Boyer

Don't worry, your mind isn't freaking out on you! We're preempting "McNeil's Li'l Bogie Bits" for some bits about ginchy French heartthrob Charles Boyer. Our tale begins with some of McNeil's li'l bogie bits. He was telling me how after the Boyer/Bacall movie CONFIDENTIAL AGENT turned out to be a dud, they went back and... well, let's see. I need to consult McNeil's email. They "had Hawks/Bogart/Bacall and a few others get together and film several new scenes to punch up The Big Sleep even more to give Bacall more 'ooompf.'" McNeil goes on to explain that "ooompf" is his own paraphrasing of whatever they were giving Bacall more of, not that she needed it. So he was telling me this and I was like, WHAT! I just recorded CONFIDENTIAL AGENT from a TCM showing, because Dr. Theresa and I had enjoyed Charles Boyer so much in a recent viewing of CLUNY BROWN, which I had also recorded off of TCM. And then McNeil came back at me saying THAT was weird because he had recently conducted a small, informal poll about the handsomeness of Charles Boyer. I don't wish to venture into McNeil's private life, but suffice to say, in McNeil's words, "a man has to know where he stands!!!" (Triple exclamation points are McNeil's.) One will no doubt be reminded of the time that Dr. Theresa blew my mind by saying that she might well prefer the charms of Fredric March over those of Gary Cooper. That was eight years ago and I still don't believe it. I think about it every night as I toss and turn in bed!

TV Memories

Last night I turned on the TV, which happened to be tuned to TCM, as it often is, and I saw a super special guest co-hosting a movie presentation, and I was like, "Hey! That's a guy who fired me once!" Actually, he fired Barry and Sven and myself, and we all got in a car (well, not the guy who fired us, but the rest of us did) and drove straight to Manuel's Tavern, suddenly jobless, and on the way there, we saw a dead man lying in the street. I realize now that I recounted this story in an anthology about bars called COME HERE OFTEN?, which I assume still exists in some form, if you'd like more details. I'm not sure there are more details.

Throwing Pennies at Jerry

Remember when I quit social media? It was in all the papers. So, for example, now, when I turn on TCM just as CITIZEN KANE is beginning, and notice for the first time in my life that two little monkeys appear within the first minute of that film, I can't just "tweet" at Laura Lippman about it, as part of a pointless gag that goes back at least as far as 2008. No, I have to sit down and compose a thoughtful email about the two little monkeys in CITIZEN KANE. Such is my lot in life, due to my own choices! Similarly, I have just had word from Brian Z., a person I formerly knew only from those electronic and ethereal environs - and, in fact, whom I still know only from electronic and ethereal environs, assuming that's what email is. Brian Z. emails to say that he recently saw "a very rare old Technicolor print" of THE NUTTY PROFESSOR in Chicago. Before the screening, someone involved with the Film Society stood up and read a vintage magazine report of Jerry's activities during the original promotional tour for the film. In one incident thus recounted, and paraphrased here by Brian Z., "Jerry is out in public and some kids throw pennies at him. He stops what he's doing to investigate the source of the pennies and gives the boys a dressing-down after taking the time to locate them." An attentive "blog" reader cannot help but be reminded, I am sure, of the time Frank Sinatra was pelted with raw eggs. What a world! Brian Z. was concerned that I had, perhaps, lost interest in Jerry Lewis, not having "blogged" about him since April of 2023. Let me assure one and all that nothing could be further from the truth! I thank Brian Z. for a timely reminder not to take Jerry for granted. As the Bible says (I Thessalonians 5:22), "Abstain from all appearance of evil." Related (?): Brian Z. makes note of "a couple of laughter-signaling guys in my row who were braying a little too forcefully to be credible." The same "blog" reader who thought of Frank Sinatra being pelted by eggs may now be reminded of what once happened to me during a Samuel Beckett play. As I remarked in my email reply to Brian Z., it is one more way in which Samuel Beckett and Jerry Lewis are just alike. (See also, Kierkegaard's thoughts on farce.) Supplementary reading: "Click" here for details of another museum-grade Jerry screening.

Sex and Power

Such is my curse: I was watching TCM last night and there was young William Powell as a man of importance. He put a cigarette in his mouth and a dozen underlings rushed forward with a light. I am doomed for all eternity to notice this gesture, which is sometimes about sex, sometimes about power, probably always about both, as I have said before, but neglected to mention in my cigarette lighter book (the part about power, anyway). The good news is that the resulting title of this "post" is sure to make "blogs" popular again.

That's Right

I'm under no legal obligation to tell you this, but I picked up Ovid again. I was like, where was I in this? And I opened it at random, and what do you think I read? That's right: "above the bridal chamber brooded the evil hoot-owl." So another owl in Ovid, big shock. Similarly absent of shock: the other night I couldn't sleep, so I got up and turned on TCM and there sat Robert Redford with an obelisk, and I wasn't even going to tell you about it.

The Golden Obelisk

You know me! Sometimes I have a large book and a small book going simultaneously. As I mentioned yesterday, I'm reading CIGARETTES by Harry Mathews. But I am also reading THE MAGIC MOUNTAIN, a towering, big, giant, huge, monumental masterwork by Thomas Mann. Now, is it going to knock Wuthering Heights off of my list? Never! But it's got to be a Top 5 novel. Now! I was ruminating yesterday about whether I could even say I have been reading it, given the fact that I am not reading it in German. How could I read it in German? I don't know German. And now I am old and will never know German. That's part of why I'm reading THE MAGIC MOUNTAIN, if I am: the oldness. Like, "I'm old, and I have never read THE MAGIC MOUNTAIN." Such were the thoughts that came to me before I began reading THE MAGIC MOUNTAIN. Of course, another part of me was and is like, you are old, why bother? Oldness goes both ways! I'm glad I'm reading it (in the translation by John E. Woods). It has everything! Including an owl. But! Before we get to the owl, it's so funny, I was thinking about not being able to read German yesterday, and then I read this in Harry Mathews's obituary: "His novel 'The Conversions,' otherwise in English, concluded with nine pages in German." But! That's not why we're here. I just wanted to say how weird it is that I'm reading two books, then one book has a hallucination talking about an owl and the next day the other book (THE MAGIC MOUNTAIN) has a ghost reciting a poem with a line about an owl in it! I didn't mention this yesterday, but the hallucination in CIGARETTES has a ghostly quality... it first appears in the form of the character's late grandmother. So you might say I was reading one book in which a ghost talks about an owl then I pick up another book and happen to come to a passage in which a ghost talks about an owl. So: 2 days, 2 ghosts talking about 2 owls. Now! Ordinarily, I wouldn't mash this all together. Back in the days before I stopped "blogging," I would have separated the following into its own "post." But those days are behind us forever! I went to bed early last night but couldn't sleep, so I arose at midnight and turned on TCM, where I saw Lana Turner as a powerful executive. And in her boardroom stood the golden obelisk glimpsed above! I used to keep tabs on obelisks in movies because McNeil cared about them. Now I don't know why I'm doing it. In conclusion, I had another thought about THE MAGIC MOUNTAIN, which I shared in emails with some friends (in this case, Ace, Bill, Jimmy, Megan, and Ashly). Feedback has been scarce, because what are they going to say? And I am certain the observation has been made by someone before me, though I am much too tired to google it. So! The TB sanitorium in THE MAGIC MOUNTAIN obtains a record player for its residents. Our protagonist, Hans Castorp, takes it over. He puts together little programs of music, with much thought (and many pages) spent on consideration of how one seemingly unrelated selection will flow into another. Only he has the key to the cabinet! Only he touches the records and decides what to play when! And thus he entertains his audience, becoming, in my limited knowledge, LITERATURE'S FIRST DJ.

Mr. McNeilo

Well, I dreamed that I was pushing my own coffin down the road over a bridge to the graveyard, where a hole had been dug already, so I got up and watched MR. RICCO, which I had recorded off of TCM. Now, yes, it is true, I can't deny it, McNeil had emailed to tell me that MR. RICCO was coming on, but I had already set it to record by the time the email arrived. As you know, if there is one thing McNeil likes more than Dean Martin, it is obelisks. As pictured above, MR. RICCO has both. Moreover, it is the SAME obelisk from BOYS' NIGHT OUT, DON'T MAKE WAVES, and AGENTS OF SHIELD ("click" for more information).

A Realist

I came here to tell you one thing, but two other things intervened, so now I have to tell you three things. I will save the thing I originally wanted to tell you for last. I don't know why. First, here are the other two things. 1. Last night Dr. Theresa and I watched another mediocre movie, this one about the devil. To compensate for its mediocrity, it starred Vera Farmiga. "I know I always say this, but I think she's really pretty," said Dr. Theresa, to which I replied, "I know I always say THIS, but I saw her in my hotel lobby in Burbank once. She was wearing a hat!" Then we chuckled knowingly, for what is marriage but saying things to one another that you know you've said before, and enjoying it? Well! We are not even to the first thing I am going to tell you yet. Later in the movie, some other dude came along, some old dude, I was like, "Who is this old dude? He looks familiar." Dr. Theresa was like, "He was in some TV show? I can't remember." So we sat there a while and I suddenly remembered: "Oh yeah! He played a mad scientist on a TV show called FRINGE. And once, on an entirely different trip, I saw HIM in the lobby of that SAME HOTEL!" As you can imagine, the coincidence made at least one of us giddy with excitement. 2. Saw a tiny bit of BLUE HAWAII this morning. You may be asking yourself (you aren't), "Why are you watching so many Elvis movies lately?" Why, he is nothing less than the "star of the month" on TCM. Anyhow, for Elvis's first onscreen number, as he zooms toward the beach with his girlfriend in a convertible sports car, he sings a swingin' version of the old French (Canadian?) ditty "Alouette." What? They couldn't come up with an original melody for the first number in BLUE HAWAII? So they do a nursery song? (See also, the time he was forced to sing "Old MacDonald Had a Farm" in a movie.) But that's not what I wanted to tell you either! What I wanted to tell you is that the wikipedia article on "Alouette" somehow skips over this usage entirely (as of this writing), meaning that I know something wikipedia doesn't know. It makes me feel like a god! I would fix it (would I?) but I don't know how. To be fair, the lyrics bear no relation to "Alouette," relying thematically, rather, on Cole Porter's "Always True to You in my Fashion," although (as perhaps goes without saying) employing none of the wit. 3. Finally! All I meant to do is quote a letter from Katherine Anne Porter to Tennessee Williams: "I am a realist in that sense that everything is real to me, nightmares, daydreams, the world visible and invisible."

Cold Leftovers

Well, hello. I thought you'd like to hear about this astonishing coincidence. I was eating some cold leftovers in front of the TV. That's not the coincidence! As I ate, I watched some of a Doris Day movie I had recorded for the purpose. At the conclusion of my repast, I turned off the movie, at which point the regular TV came on automatically. It was tuned to TCM, which happened to be playing a Tom Waits concert film. At the very moment of the program's sudden commencement I caught Tom Waits himself mid-sentence, expressing, through stage patter, his wish to purchase a novelty cigarette lighter "as big as an encyclopedia." If you are my friend, you will appreciate the nature of the coincidence. If I am being honest, however, there is at best a 50-50 chance I would have included Tom Waits's hypothetical "cigarette lighter as big as an encyclopedia" in my book about cigarette lighters, so I have decided not to add it to the official appendix at this time.

It Only Hurts When I Cry

Well, I happened to scroll past TCM last night, where the film BEACH BLANKET BINGO was playing... there was this woman (pictured) singing "It Only Hurts When I Cry" while she was roasting some wienies in the fireplace, and I stood there and counted the wienies (lying on a napkin on the bricks, bottom right). I am pretty sure there were at least 20 wienies in the scene, including a couple you can't see because I grabbed this screenshot from a faded pan-and-scan version on youtube this morning, giving you little idea of the garish vitality of the original wienies as presented in Technicolor, or whatever process they used on BEACH BLANKET BINGO. It really did look like an awful lot of wienies, but it was a big party and, honestly, there may not have been enough wienies to go around.

Mr. Frazzlebottom

I saw a tiny bit of THE GUNFIGHTER on TCM last night. Some no-good punk is trying to rile up Gregory Peck, so he calls him "Mr. Frazzlebottom." He calls him "Mr. Frazzlebottom" about ten times in quick succession. "Say, Mr. Frazzlebottom, can I buy you a drink?" And so on. Ten times, I bet! "What's the matter, Mr. Frazzlebottom, you feeling okay?" I paraphrase. It truly is irritating, this kid is onto something. Now, I don't "blog" anymore, so I don't know why I'm typing this. Now that I don't "blog" anymore, I generally just email this type of thing straight to McNeil.

Kinda Scary

I half-watched some of a Frank Capra movie on TCM last night and I'm not gonna say it reminded me of David Lynch, even though it did, but I am aware that everything reminds me of David Lynch now because I just watched a lot of David Lynch.

(Megan Abbott did point out the IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE quality of the recent TWIN PEAKS finale.) But the title of the Capra movie I half-watched is A HOLE IN THE HEAD, which isn't comforting, is it? So Frank Sinatra and his little son are trying to sleep and Carolyn Jones suddenly appears in their window, dancing in her swimsuit and long gloves. It was supposed to be funny! But it struck me as eerie. Once again, this is all my own fault. Then Carolyn Jones shows up with a whole apple in her mouth and strikes a Laura Palmer pose:

The way Sinatra expresses affection for his son is to say he's gonna sock him or punch him or "flatten" him. He's consistently violent in his love imagery, but we never think he's really gonna flatten his son. At one point he says wistfully, "He's a funny kid, you know? I could beat him up, anything, leave him someplace, and I bet he'd still love me. Kinda scary." KINDA!

The background (and foreground) is filled with strange, silent animals, for which I choose this monkey that blows bubbles as representative. The monkey that blows bubbles is next to a photo of Eleanor Parker's husband and son, whom she matter-of-factly describes drowning together before her eyes. Frank Sinatra's little boy is immediately taken with Eleanor Parker because (I think it's obvious) she is like his dead mother come back to life.

She catches the little boy staring at her because she reminds him so much of his dead mother (I believe is the subtext) and gives him a sultry wink as he peeps at her from behind a porcelain dog. Oh, and Dub Taylor works the desk at Frank Sinatra's hotel, where they use the same kind of keychains you get at the Great Northern.

You know, I really have more screen shots than I know what to do with. You should see the ones I'm skipping. There was this disturbingly infantile character (below), a very poor man's Jerry Lewis, who, in his father's words, "runs to the toilet" whenever there's a customer in the store (the same father, Edward G. Robinson, who complains about his "underwear crawling up" on him, a complaint I do not recall hearing expressed so bluntly - or indeed at all - in any other 50s movies; does he say "crawling" or "creeping"? Does it matter?) and you know how much Jerry Lewis reminds me of David Lynch, even though this is not Jerry Lewis, just a tulpa.

I hardly know what to end with.

Well, here's a guy in a white dinner jacket with a pistol on a diving board. Moments later he will pretend to shoot himself in the head with a blank for a laugh, but I don't think that's where the title comes from.

Here's Your Monocle

I recorded a TCM showing of THREE RING CIRCUS and watched some of it last night. I am pleased to tell you about the villain of the piece (pictured), Puffo the Wonder Clown. First of all I am pleased to tell you that his name is Puffo the Wonder Clown. He is addressed often. "You're drunk, Puffo." And, when he is fired from the circus, "Draw your money, Puffo." I cannot explain the pleasure such sentences gave me. "Puffo, he's stealing your thunder!" says another clown, referring to Jerry Lewis. So later Puffo goes out there and kicks Jerry Lewis in the behind and jumps up and down on him. The circus audience turns on Puffo! And I must say I was surprised because it seemed like regular clown business to me. I'm not sure what clued in the audience that Puffo really meant it. Clowns are always brutalizing one another for our amusement, and we thank them for it. But one little girl jumps up and yells, "Stop it! You're killing him!" I may be paraphrasing. After Puffo nearly murders Jerry in the ring (I guess - as I say, it was difficult to distinguish from everyday clown violence), Jerry says in his saintly mewl, "Here's your monocle. I'm not mad, Puffo." You see, Puffo had dropped his monocle in the sawdust to get Jerry to bend over. You know how it is. Oh, Puffo. I am not sure I can rightly call Puffo a sad clown, though he is certainly a bitter clown. Jerry - who tinkered a lot with the script of this famously troubled production - seems interested in rage-filled clowns. Think of the snarling clown who hates America in his film THE FAMILY JEWELS. Think of him, I said! And of course drunken clowns are a national treasure by any standard. Puffo is a mean drunk, as opposed to the garden-variety sniveling of a typical drunken clown like Twitchy, who meets his sad end at the hands of a psychopath in the Mickey Spillane circus thriller RING OF FEAR, but I'm not telling you anything you don't already know. Will you mind very much if we stop talking about clowns for a second? In a subplot, Dean Martin falls under the spell of Zsa Zsa Gabor as the haughty queen of the circus. And I had never really thought about it, but that's a common story element, isn't it? The beauteous, dominant circus woman? I think of Steve Martin in THE JERK (its title an homage to Lewis's THE PATSY?), in the thrall of the sexy motorcycle daredevil who pushes him around. In conclusion, I cannot justify Puffo's honorific. At no point in the film are we given any indication that he is, in fact, a "wonder clown" of any kind.

Owl Grease

THE BIRDS came on TCM yesterday and I thought, "I wonder if Messiaen ever saw this movie?" That's considered a real knee slapper around here. But then I really started wondering. And I remembered there was a book on the case right next to me all about Messiaen. But I looked through it and it's not that kind of book. I thought maybe Messiaen would have enjoyed the soundtrack to THE BIRDS - in fact it was the soundtrack that made me start thinking about him - but disapproved of the bird behavior. Or maybe he would've found some mystical interpretation of the bird behavior. And you know, maybe he would have hated the soundtrack. I guess we'll never know. I did open the book to some diary notes of Messiaen, which is how I know that he heard the call of a pygmy owl at Bryce Canyon, Utah, at 5:20 in the morning on May 5, 1972. In related news, Chris Offutt told me he has been reading my "blog." And I was like, "WHAT!" Because as you know I don't "blog" anymore. But to save me some time, Chris sent me part of his next novel... JUST the parts with owls. I believe I counted five owls, though as Chris pointed out in his accompanying email, some of those could be the same owls. Chris gave me permission to quote from his owl passages but I'm hesitant to spoil anything. The piquant title of this "post" comes from Chris's manuscript and already I feel I've said too much.

A Defining Gesture

Thanks to a timely tip from Megan Abbott I watched some of I'LL TAKE SWEDEN on TCM last night. But - and here's the fascinating part! - I went to bed before it came on. But then I couldn't sleep! So I got up and watched it until our old, box-shaped TV from the 1990s finally died. I'LL TAKE SWEDEN killed our TV! And then - this is true, also - I got up and had a terrible new back pain and I went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror and some of my hair had turned white! I mean, I noticed a lot more white than I've noticed there before. I'LL TAKE SWEDEN! It's mostly Bob Hope walking around gracefully in many different beautiful suits, which I am sure he kept, because he was a terrible cheapskate. But I mean, he is a good walker and hand gesturer. Here (above) we see him with one hand just below his ribs, seeming to pantomime the thought, "These kids these days!" I would describe it as a defining Bob Hope gesture, though it occurs just once in the film (at least in the hour I saw last night). McNeil could confirm its essentialness and describe it better than I could. He has a knack for cataloguing these things. I remember once we were watching a movie in which Jeremy Northam played Dean Martin, and Jeremy Northam (as Dean Martin) was applauding something while holding a cigarette between two fingers, and McNeil said with delight and authority, "That's just how Dean Martin clapped!" Oh, how I wish McNeil had been here. Only he would have understood why I actually laughed a couple of times, once at a fantasy sequence in which Bob Hope's imaginary grandchildren are forced to eat a parrot, and once at some dumb wisecrack Bob Hope made while riding around with his head sticking out of the sunroof of a small Swedish vehicle.

There is one part (seen here) when he is looking at Frankie Avalon with real hatred. Like, I don't think he's acting! Or, actually, I think he turns out to be a better actor than we ever gave him credit for. Or both! He seems to be thinking, "THIS is what it's all come to? THIS? THIS FRANKIE AVALON?" Or he could be deep in character, thinking, "No way this motor-scooter riding rascal is gonna marry MY daughter!" I just can't tell. In addition, Frankie Avalon takes Tuesday Weld to a strip club on a date! For all his grousing about Bob Hope do you think this is where Mike Nichols got the idea for the scene in THE GRADUATE? Tuesday Weld is much more blasé about the strip club than Katherine Ross was, though there is identical twirling involved! However, it is not graphically portrayed in this case. The twirling in question occurs offscreen and is alluded to discreetly by Bob Hope and Tuesday Weld (see also). The strip club is called The Pink Kitten and the bouncer dresses like this: