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the-rewatch-rewind · 3 months

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The final episode... for now, at least.

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Hello and welcome to the conclusion of The Rewatch Rewind, the podcast where I counted down my top 40 most frequently rewatched movies from 2003 through 2022. To those of you listening to this on the day it’s coming out, Happy Cary Grant’s Birthday! This felt like an appropriate day to release this fun bonus episode to analyze my list a bit more, get into some statistics, talk about what I’ve learned from this project, wrap things up, etc. If that sounds boring to you, that’s totally fair, I won’t hold it against you if you want to skip this. But before you turn it off, I want to mention that my brother Quinn, my guest from the Ella Enchanted episode, put together a “Sounds of the Rewatch Rewind” Spotify playlist featuring the songs and soundtracks from the movies I’ve talked about that he could find on there, which I’m going to link in the show notes, so now that you’ve listened to me talk about these movies, you can listen to parts of the movies themselves.

Assuming the runtimes on IMDb are correct, I spent approximately 99,258 minutes watching these 40 movies from 2003 through 2022, which is 1,654 hours and 18 minutes, or 68 days, 22 hours, and 18 minutes. So almost 10 weeks. Which sounds like a lot, but it was spread out over 20 years, so I don’t feel like that’s particularly excessive. I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn I had spent more time watching these movies. And that’s one of the main things I’ve learned from actually keeping track of the movies I watch: I’m very bad at estimating how frequently I rewatch movies. Before I started writing down what I watched, I thought there were lots of movies I regularly watched dozens of times per year, and probably several that I’d seen over 100 times. But now I know that watching a movie five times in a year can feel like a ton, and there are relatively few that I feel like sitting through more than 20 times total, let alone 100. Part of that could come from maturing, or from having a much wider array of movie choices at my fingertips, but a significant part of it is that it takes fewer rewatches than I think it does for a movie that I love to stick in my brain. There are plenty more films that didn’t make it anywhere near my top 40 that I feel like I know backwards and forwards and inside out. So I just want to reiterate what I said in the introductory episode: I don’t think these are the 40 best movies ever made, and I don’t even think they’re my 40 favorite movies. But I do love them all, and I don’t regret getting to talk about any of them.

When I first started keeping track of what I watched back in 2003, I thought of myself as someone who primarily loved “old movies,” with a few newer movies managing to worm their way into my heart. I would have expected most of my top 40 movies to be in black and white, and almost all of them to be from before 1970. But as it turns out, 18 are fully live action and in color, 16 are live action in black and white, four are fully animated, and two are a mix of animation and color live action. The breakdown of which decade these films are from tells a particularly fascinating story. Five of these movies came out in the 1930s, nine in the 1940s, three in the 1950s, three in the 1960s, zero in the 1970s, four in the 1980s, four in the 1990s, nine in the 2000s, and three in the 2010s. Which means that exactly half were from before the 1970s and exactly half were from after the 1970s. Many of the views of movies from the 2000s occurred in the first few years I kept track, so clearly the pretentious “I only love old movies” persona I tried to cultivate as a young teen was never very accurate. Stories from a variety of eras resonate with me. But what, you may be wondering, do I have against movies from the 1970s?

First of all, to be clear, there are several movies from the 1970s that I love, they just didn’t happen to make it into my top 40. But the thing about the ‘70s is… that’s when Hollywood movies became more explicitly sexy. By which I mean that after the Motion Picture Production Code was abandoned in the late 1960s, filmmakers started putting much more explicit sexual content into their movies because they were finally allowed to. Now, I’m not saying I’m in favor of censorship. I think people should be able to make movies about whatever they want, provided they’re not actively hurting people. But a lot of 1970s movies feel particularly overwhelmingly sexual to me, like Hollywood was trying to release decades’ worth of previously forbidden sex scenes as quickly as possible. And I want to be clear that I don’t necessarily think there’s anything inherently wrong with that, although I feel like it was often executed in ways that objectified women, which I do have a problem with. But I also think a not insignificant reason I’m not as into movies from that era is related to my asexuality. I’m not judging 1970s movies for having too much sex, and obviously not every movie from that decade has explicit sexual content, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the decade after the production code went away is the one that doesn’t have any representation in my top 40 most frequently rewatched movies. While movies with sexual content continue to be made long after the 1970s, it does feel a bit like once the novelty wore off, filmmakers kind of toned it down a bit, or at least incorporated it into more interesting stories. It’s kind of like when a kid learns a swear word. At first it’s like, a huge deal, and they get in trouble for using it, and then when they get older they’re like, “allowed” to swear, and they feel so cool for a while, but then it stops feeling cool and they learn how to use it more selectively and effectively. That’s how it feels like sexual content in the Hollywood film industry evolved. So as a relatively sex-indifferent asexual who doesn’t exactly mind sexual content, but doesn’t particularly like it either, it makes sense that that transition period doesn’t appeal to me as much.

And I do have to keep saying that I’m specifically talking about the Hollywood film industry because the vast majority of the movies I watch are from Hollywood. Really the only “foreign” film in my top 40 is Pride and Prejudice, and even that was co-produced by an American company. I have seen and enjoyed several films from other countries, but I could definitely watch more. There is an upsetting lack of diversity on this list: the vast majority of these films are primarily about white, straight, cis, allo, middle-to-upper-class Americans or Europeans. There are characters who don’t fit all of those, but most of them play relatively minor supporting roles in the main stories. I’m pretty sure that all of the directors on this list are white, and all of the screenwriters are at least half white, but I don’t know all of their backgrounds, so forgive me if I’m unintentionally erasing the identity of any of these filmmakers. Regardless, I definitely need to watch more movies made by people of color. As I addressed in previous episodes, only two of these movies were directed solely by a woman, one was co-directed by a man and a woman, and the other 37 were directed by men, so I also need to watch more female-directed films. The screenwriter gender breakdown is a little better, with eight written solely by women, eight written by a combination of men and women, and 24 written solely by men. I would personally love to see more movies written and directed by non-binary people, but mainstream society doesn’t seem to want to give them much of a voice, so I think I’ll have to look into more independent films to find that. The two newest movies on this list were independently produced with funds raised through Kickstarter, so I do seem to be moving in that direction, even though the vast majority of my top films were made by major Hollywood studios. I wasn’t surprised that Disney was the studio with the most films on this list, with nine – what can I say? I grew up during the Disney renaissance, I was indoctrinated. But I wasn’t necessarily expecting RKO to have the second most, with seven, considering that studio hasn’t been around since the 1950s. MGM is in third place with six, but I would have expected that to have more than RKO, considering it made a lot of classic Golden Age gems and still technically exists today (even though it’s now owned by Amazon). Over half of the movies on this list were made by one of those three studios. Again, an embarrassing lack of diversity.

I’m not sure how many LGBTQIA+ filmmakers were involved with the films on this list, since even now people don’t always feel safe or comfortable coming out publicly, and in the past it was even more dangerous to do so. However, the director with the most films on this list, George Cukor, with four, was openly gay, and as I mentioned in several episodes, sometimes movies with supposedly straight characters give off queer vibes. No character in any movie on this list is openly aromantic or asexual, but I was still able to spend a lot of this podcast talking about the ways I related to these stories as an aroace person. Since I’ve been so focused on how much I wish there was less romance and sex in movies, I thought it would be interesting to give each of my top 40 a score indicating how important romance and sex were to the story, on a scale of 0 to 3 for each, with 0 meaning there’s essentially none and 3 meaning there’s a lot. Now, I will point out that no movie on this list is rated higher than PG-13, so a 3 on the sexual content scale is still pretty mild. I also feel like reasonable people could disagree about how to rate some of these movies, so please indulge me as I go through each movie and state and briefly justify my scores.

Mary Poppins gets a zero for both, even though there is a kiss between Mr. and Mrs. Banks, but they were already married at the beginning and their relationship is far from the main focus of the story, which goes out of its way to keep Mary and Bert’s relationship platonic.

Similarly, while Emperor’s New Groove does show that Pacha and Chicha are in a loving married relationship, that’s such a tiny portion of the film that I’m also giving this one a zero for both romance and sex. So we’re off to a great start.

Legally Blonde is a bit trickier because at the beginning Elle is extremely focused on romance, but she becomes less so as the story progresses, although other characters remain focused on romance throughout. Also there are no sex scenes, but there are still some rather explicit sexual references. So I’m giving Legally Blonde a 2 for romance and a 2 for sex.

The Princess Bride has a lot going on, but the romantic love between Westley and Buttercup is consistently one of its main focuses, so I’m giving it a 2 for romance, but apart from some very slight innuendo I don’t remember any sexual content, so it gets a 0 for sex.

Frozen is another kids’ movie, so another 0 for sex, but the romance aspect is fascinating because it starts out tricking you into thinking it’s going to be very romance-focused, but ends up demonstrating that the initial romance was fake and other kinds of love are just as important, so I’m giving Frozen a 1 for romance.

Chicago is probably the most sexually explicit movie on this list, so I have to give it a 3 for sexual content, but there’s only a little bit of romance, so it gets a 1 for romantic content.

The Sound of Music has quite a bit of non-romantic stuff going on, but the relationship between Maria and Georg, and Maria’s internal conflict between wanting to be a nun and wanting to be with him, are important parts of the story, so I’m saying romance 2, sex 1.

Holiday is mostly about Johnny thinking he’s in love with Julia and learning he’s really in love with Linda. The social commentary keeps it from being a 3 on the romantic content scale in my opinion, but I can’t give it lower than a 2. I suppose sex is meant to be implied because they talk about marriage so much, but I don’t recall any specific innuendo, so I’m giving it a 0 for sexual content.

Newsies is mostly about the strike but there’s still the Jack and Sarah romance stuck in there, and the “Lovey Dovey Baby” song is pretty suggestive, so I’m saying 1 for romance, 1 for sex.

Stage Door is one of the few Production Code-era movies that actually has more sexual content than romantic content – there’s a lot more focus on potentially using sex to get ahead in show business than on romance, although there’s still a bit of romance in there too, and the sex isn’t super explicit, so I’m saying 1 for romance, 2 for sex.

Monkey Business is mostly about the formula to make people young, but that seems to manifest itself by stirring up relationship drama. The sexual aspect is mostly innuendo, so I’m going with 2 for romance, 1 for sex.

Father Goose starts out with no romance, but by the end becomes mostly focused on Walter and Catherine’s relationship, and there are some mild sexual references, so I’m again going with 2 for romance, 1 for sex.

Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House is mostly about the house. There’s some minor relationship drama, but even that is more about stress caused by the house situation than actual romance, so I would argue that it only deserves a 1 for romance. I’m tempted to give it a 0 for sex, but there’s enough innuendo when Bill spends the night alone with Muriel that I think I have to give it a 1.

Adam’s Rib is another tricky one because it’s about a trial that impacts romantic relationships, but the focus is rarely on the romantic aspect of those relationships. And by today’s standards, there really isn’t that much sexual content either, although for its time it feels pretty explicit. So I’m saying 1 for romance, and 2 for sex.

Mamma Mia has enough focus on non-romantic relationships that I’m only giving it a 2 for romance, but even though there aren’t any explicit sex scenes, there’s enough talk about it and enough suggestive dancing that I think it deserves a 3 for sexual content, at least on my scale.

I know that The Lion King features one of the most romantic Disney songs of all time, but I would argue that a relatively minuscule amount of the plot is actually dedicated to the romance between Simba and Nala, so I’m giving it a 1 for romance. And despite the misinterpretation of the leaves spelling SFX as the word SEX, and the rather suggestive look that Nala gives Simba in the middle of their love song, overall I don’t think it has enough sexual content to justify a rating above 0.

Freaky Friday appears at first glance to be heavily focused on romance, since Tess is about to get married and Anna wants to pursue a romantic relationship, but it’s way more about the mother/daughter relationship, so I’m giving it a 1 for romance, and also a 1 for sex because there’s a bit of innuendo.

The romantic aspect of The Major and the Minor is weird and kind of toxic, but it’s still there and it’s pretty important, so I’m giving it a 2 for romance. Then there’s the whole Pamela assuming Phillip slept with Susan part and some sexual harassment before it was called that… it’s not super explicit but I’m still saying that’s a 2 for sexual content, at least for its time.

I argued in the Bringing Up Baby episode that I don’t really believe that the main romantic storyline is actually romantic, but the characters seem to think it is, and Susan at least is pretty focused on that, so I’m saying 2 for romantic content, and once again there’s a bit of innuendo, so 1 for sexual content.

Enchanted is very much a romantic story, so I have to give it a romantic rating of 3. And while I’d like to give all kids’ movies a sexual content rating of 0, I’m sorry, that shower part boosts it up to 1. Kids might not know they’re talking about sex, but… there’s really no other way to interpret that.

Ella Enchanted has quite a bit of romance, but the main storyline is Ella trying to get rid of her curse, so I think that keeps the romantic content rating at a 2. And again, I want to say 0 sexual content because it’s a kids’ movie, but then I remembered some of the things Char’s fangirls say and…yeah I have to give it a 1.

Notorious is ultimately a spy movie, but the spying is accomplished by Alicia seducing and pretending to fall in love with Alex, and actually falling in love with Devlin, so that sounds like a 2 for both.

It’s a Wonderful Life is about a lot of other things, but a good chunk of it is devoted to George and Mary’s relationship, and there’s enough innuendo that I’m going with 2 for romance, 1 for sex.

Again, I argued in the Beauty and the Beast episode that I’ve never seen Belle and the Beast’s relationship as a typical romance, but most characters and audience members seem to. I still maintain that there’s enough other stuff going on to keep it from being a 3, but I don’t think I’d be justified in giving it a romance score below a 2. But I’m not giving it a sexual content rating above a 0, despite what the childhood ruiners say.

A Mighty Wind is mostly about a concert, but it gets a bit into Mitch and Mickey’s romance, and there are a few sex jokes, so I’m saying 1 for both.

His Girl Friday is pretty focused on Hildy wanting to marry Bruce but still being in love with Walter, but that’s not the only thing it’s about so I’m giving it a 2 for romantic content. If you read between the lines and interpret Molly as a prostitute, I guess an argument could be made to give it a higher sexual content rating, especially because there are a few other veiled sexual references as well, but I’m sticking with 1 because it’s all innuendo.

Gaslight is an interesting one because it’s very focused on the relationship between Gregory and Paula, but it’s more about the abuse than the romance, and nobody should think of this as a romantic movie, so I’m saying 1 for romantic content, and 1 for sexual content, because while there’s nothing explicit, it is very heavily implied that Nancy is sleeping with Constable Williams.

Edgar Allan Poe’s Murder Mystery Dinner Party is quite focused on friendship, but the party wouldn’t be happening in the first place if Edgar wasn’t trying to woo Annabel, and there’s also the whole Lenore/HG Wells thing, so I’m saying 2 for romantic content. And while it’s not at all explicit for the 2010s, there are definitely some sexual references, so that’s a 1.

The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer is almost entirely about romance, so I can’t give it below a 3 for romantic content. And while the movie does make it very clear that the bachelor does not sleep with the bobby-soxer, again, there’s enough innuendo that I have to give it a 1 for sexual content.

North by Northwest is mostly about Roger trying to figure out what’s going on. While he does fall in love with Eve, for a good chunk of the movie we think she’s trying to kill him, so I don’t think it deserves higher than a 1 for romantic content. But it was fairly sexually explicit for its time, so I’m giving it a 2 for sexual content.

The Sure Thing is very focused on both sex and romance, so that one gets a 3 for both.

Ishtar has a little bit of romantic content, but it’s mostly about the incompetence of the bumbling songwriters, so I’m giving it a 1 for romantic content. But there is some nudity and rather frank conversations about sex, so I feel like I have to give it a 3 for sexual content. I actually thought Ishtar was rated R until I double checked before making that episode. It’s PG-13, but just barely.

My Man Godfrey is about a lot of things, but although Godfrey the character would prefer to keep romance out of it, Irene keeps forcing it into the story, so it gets a 2 for romantic content. And, like most movies of its era, there’s no explicit sexual content, but there’s enough innuendo to earn it a 1.

The Princess Diaries is mostly about Mia learning she’s a princess, but enough of it is about her relationship with Michael and her crush on Josh that I have to give it a 2 for romantic content. But, as my sister Rosemary pointed out in that episode, the romance is very innocent, and I don’t recall even enough innuendo to bring the sexual content rating above a 0.

The Case of the Gilded Lily mirrors the innuendo but no real sexual content of production code-era films, but with significantly less romance than most of them, so I’m giving it a 1 for both.

Top Hat is extremely focused on the confusing romance between Jerry and Dale, so that’s a 3 for romantic content, but despite the fact that their dancing has been compared to making love, I’d argue that as far as sexual content there’s barely enough innuendo to earn it a 1, let alone anything higher than that.

Singin’ in the Rain is mostly about the change in the motion picture industry from silents to talkies, but Don’s love life pulls enough of the focus that it gets a 2 for romantic content. And while there’s barely any sexual content, Cyd Charisse’s dancing is suggestive enough to earn it a 1.

I’m going to be bold and say that Clue has zero romance, because even though there is some kissing, none of it is really romantic. But most of the suspects are being blackmailed for sexual reasons, so it gets a 2 for sexual content.

While I don’t watch Pride and Prejudice specifically for the romance, I can’t deny that that’s what most of the story is about, so I have to give it a 3 for romantic content. And the whole Lydia/Wickham thing brings the sexual content score up to 2 – one could even make an argument for 3, since we do briefly see them in bed together, but I think it’s a small enough proportion of the mini-series to keep it at 2.

Similarly, The Philadelphia Story has lots going on, but it is all about Tracy’s wedding, and which of the three possible grooms she’s most in love with, so I have to give it a 3 for romance. And even though she doesn’t actually sleep with Mike, there’s enough talk about it that I’m giving it a sexual content score of 2.

To sum all that up: as far as romantic content goes, 3 of these movies got a score of 0, 13 got a score of 1, 18 got a score of 2, and 6 got a score of 3. For sexual content, 8 got a score of 0, 19 got a score of 1, 9 got a score of 2, and 4 got a score of 3. And if we add the romantic and sexual ratings together, only 2 movies got a score of 0, two got a score of 1, 11 got a score of 2, 13 got a score of 3, 8 got a score of 4, 3 got a score of 5, and one got the maximum score of 6.

So why did I go through all of that? Well, aside from wanting an excuse to go back through all 40 movies again, I also wanted to emphasize that even when you’re not interested in sexual or romantic content, it’s extremely difficult to avoid. Allonormativity and amatonormativity are everywhere. I was able to find ways to relate to these movies from an aroace perspective, but every single one ultimately leans, at least to some extent, into the pervading societal assumption that every normal human fundamentally desires a long-term, monogamous, romantic and sexual partner of the opposite sex. This is so normalized that the two movies that earned a zero for both romantic and sexual content still include romantic kissing, and while I stand by my assertion that those movies don’t have enough romantic content to justify a higher rating, I also know that if those throwaway background romantic moments had been between two characters of the same sex, a bunch of people would have made a huge deal about how the LGBT+ “agenda” was being “shoved down their throats” and “forced on their children.” You know who really shoves their lifestyle down people’s throats and forces them on children? Straight cis allos! If children’s sexual and romantic orientations could be changed just by seeing them in movies, I would be incredibly straight and allo by now. But even spending all those years bombarded with the message that normal people were like that, it didn’t make me feel attraction that my brain wasn’t wired to feel, it just made me confused. What I would love to see in my next 20 years of movie watching is more normalization of other ways of being outside of amatonormativity. Right now that’s feeling very unlikely, given the enormous backlash against LGBTQIA+ rights that is currently escalating throughout much of this country. More awareness of aspec identities has led to more explicit aphobia. But it has also led more people like me to understand ourselves better, and I would love to see that continue until acceptance overwhelms the bigotry. And that could be greatly helped by more aspec artists getting to tell their stories. I know of some good aspec representation in books and TV shows, but I really haven’t heard about much in feature films, apart from the sort of vague ace coding I’ve discussed throughout this podcast. But I would love to hear recommendations if any listeners out there know of any openly asexual and/or aromantic movie characters.

Many of the movies on this list are silly comedies, which don’t tend to be recognized by the Academy Awards, but I thought it would be fun to look into the Oscar stats a bit anyway. Of these 40 movies, 23 were nominated for at least one Oscar, and 10 had at least one win. Among those, there were a total of 98 nominations and 28 wins. The most nominations for a single film was 13, achieved by both Mary Poppins and Chicago, and the most wins was 6, again by Chicago. Two movies that were nominated won 100% of the Oscars they were nominated for: Frozen with two and The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer with one. I did go through and watch all the Best Picture, Best Actress, and Best Adapted Screenplay Oscar winners, at least up to a certain year, and those projects added to the view counts of five of the movies that made it into my top 40: Mary Poppins, Chicago, The Sound of Music, Gaslight, and The Philadelphia Story. I have considered tackling other Oscar categories, and I’ll probably make a podcast about it if I do, so that could potentially be on the horizon, we’ll see. Another movie podcast idea I have is to pick either an actor or director and go through their entire filmography chronologically and talk about that. I’m not sure if or when any of those ideas will come to fruition, but I have greatly enjoyed talking about movies on this podcast and would love to continue in a similar vein.

As for The Rewatch Rewind, I like to think that for now it will just be on a rather long hiatus rather than being completely finished. I have continued to track the movies I watch, and my top 40 has already changed in the last year, so it will be interesting to see how my movie watching continues to change in the years ahead. After I’d been keeping track for 10 years, I blogged about the 35 movies I’d seen at least 10 times, and 30 of those movies were still in my top 40 after 20 years of keeping track. The 10 new movies that were added for this list obviously include the three movies that hadn’t come out yet 10 years earlier – Frozen, Edgar Allan Poe’s Murder Mystery Dinner Party, and The Case of the Gilded Lily – in addition to Notorious, Adam’s Rib, Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House, Father Goose, Holiday, The Emperor’s New Groove, and Mary Poppins. The five movies that were in my top 35 after 10 years but were not in my top 40 after 20 were Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Neptune’s Daughter, Duck Soup, and The Phantom of the Opera. For the 30 movies that were on both lists, I still had a lot of new things to say about them ten years later. I’m not sure if I’ll wait until I’ve been keeping track for 30 years to return to this podcast, or if I’ll also do something for 25 years, but I do have every intention of returning for another season of something similar eventually. I probably won’t do the exact same thing, maybe I’ll do a top 100, or I’ll talk about my top movies from each decade or year, either of keeping track or when they came out – I haven’t decided yet. So stay subscribed or following to hear more from me in a few years – assuming these podcast platforms are still around in a few years.

Regardless of what the future has in store, thank you so much for listening to my analysis of the 40 movies I rewatched the most in my first 20 years of keeping track. Since I don’t know what movie I’ll be talking about next, in honor of his 120th birthday I’ll wrap this up with a quote that at least has been attributed to Cary Grant, although I couldn’t find where or when he said it, so maybe he didn’t, but it’s a good quote anyway: “My formula for living is quite simple. I get up in the morning and I go to bed at night. In between, I occupy myself as best I can.”

#the rewatch rewind #movies #aromantic #asexual

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the-rewatch-rewind · 6 months

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Here it is! My most frequently rewatched movie! Thank you for coming on this journey with me.

Script below the break

Hello and welcome back to The Rewatch Rewind! My name is Jane, and this is the podcast where I count down my top 40 most frequently rewatched movies in a 20-year period. Today, at last, we reach the end of that list as I discuss my number one: MGM’s 1940 comedy The Philadelphia Story, directed by George Cukor, written by Donald Ogden Stewart with uncredited contributions from Waldo Salt, based on the play by Philip Barry, and starring Cary Grant, Katharine Hepburn, and James Stewart.

Two years after the disastrous end of her first marriage to childhood friend C.K. Dexter Haven (Cary Grant), socialite Tracy Lord (Katharine Hepburn) is preparing for her second wedding, to George Kittredge (John Howard), general manager of her estranged father’s coal mining company. Eager to cover this story but knowing that Tracy loathes publicity, Spy magazine editor and publisher Sidney Kidd (Henry Daniell) enlists the help of Dexter to get reporter Macaulay “Mike” Connor (James Stewart) and photographer Elizabeth “Liz” Imbrie (Ruth Hussey) to the Lord house the day before the wedding. In those 24 hours before her second marriage begins, Tracy is prompted to rethink not only her choice of husband, but also her entire attitude toward people and life.

This must have been one of the first old movies I saw in 2002 because the only thing I remember about my initial experience of it was that I expected Tracy to accept Mike’s proposal, and if I’d been an experienced old movie watcher by then I would have known that obviously Katharine Hepburn was going to end up with Cary Grant, not James Stewart. I certainly did not immediately fully appreciate this movie, although I was intrigued enough to keep revisiting it until eventually it became my favorite. I watched it five times in each year from 2003 through 2005, four times in 2006, twice in 2007, 2008, and 2009, three times each in 2010 and 2011, five times in 2012, once in 2013, once in 2014, twice in 2015, once in 2017, twice in 2018, four times in 2019, once in 2020, twice in 2021, and once in 2022. Part of why I watch this so much is because it has three stars whose birthdays I celebrate almost every year, so I often watch it for Cary Grant’s birthday and then either Katharine Hepburn’s or James Stewart’s (their birthdays are only about a week apart so I don’t usually watch it for both). I think part of why I didn’t watch it in 2016 is because I watched it in late December of 2015 for the 75th anniversary of its release, so Grant’s birthday in January felt too soon to revisit it, and that May I decided to watch through all the Fred and Ginger movies starting with Astaire’s birthday, so I was less focused on Kate’s and Jimmy’s birthdays that year. And then later in 2016 I was too obsessed with Poe Party to watch much of anything else. But to make up for that, the reason I watched it so many times in 2019 is because Mary Kate Wiles used to host readings of plays and movie scripts with her actor friends for her Patreon, and I offered to transcribe the script of Philadelphia Story so she could do a reading of that one, and even though I knew the movie very well by then I decided to go through it a few more times to make sure I got all the details right, so eventually my love of Poe Party led to more rewatches of this. And the current Shipwrecked project, The Case of the Greater Gatsby, takes place in December of 1940 so there are lots of Philadelphia Story references in it and they make me very happy. Anyway, I’ve put quite a bit of effort into not watching this movie too many times too close together because I don’t ever want to overwatch it to the point of getting tired of it, like I did with a few other movies I’ve mentioned on this podcast, and many more that I burned out before they could make it into my top 40. While the stars’ birthdays have contributed to the view count, mostly this is my number one comfort movie that I know I can always turn to when I need something to watch, and I’m afraid of pushing it to the point where that no longer works. Although the fact that I sat through it 51 times in 20 years – the same number of views as number two plus number 40 on this list – and haven’t come close to getting tired of it yet indicates that I probably never will.

I don’t think I can really articulate what exactly it is about this movie that makes it my favorite to revisit, but I’m going to try. Certainly the fact that it features three of my favorite classic film stars helps, although a big part of why I love those stars so much is because of what they did in The Philadelphia Story. Every single member of the cast gives an absolutely fabulous performance. There isn’t a ton of action, but the dialogue is a perfect example of everything I love about the best Old Hollywood scripts: snappy and witty and clever on the surface, with real human emotion and intriguing philosophy underneath. The movie features many different kinds of brilliantly executed comedy, but the more serious moments still hit without feeling out of place. It deals with taboo subjects like divorce, infidelity, and alcoholism in ways that complied with production codes but still don’t feel too watered down. Basically, it has all the aspects I love about the other old movies on this list, only more so.

Several of my very favorite movie scenes of all time are in The Philadelphia Story. One is when Mike has had a lot to drink at a party and decides to visit Dexter in the middle of the night. The way drunk Jimmy Stewart and sober Cary Grant interact is hilarious and makes me desperately disappointed that the two of them never appeared in another movie together. At one point, Stewart makes a noise that’s kind of a mix of a hiccup, a cough, and a burp. Grant, thinking that Stewart has ruined the take, goes, “Excuse me,” sounding a little annoyed but trying to make a joke out of it, but then Stewart drunkenly responds with, “Huh?” indicating his intention to go on with the scene. Grant looks down, stifling a laugh, and then they continue with the dialogue, and I love that instead of reshooting it, or editing around it, they kept that in the movie. There may not be a blooper reel, but we still get to watch Jimmy Stewart almost break Cary Grant, and that’s good enough for me.

Another of my favorite scenes comes a bit earlier in the film, when Tracy and her younger sister, Dinah, played by Virginia Weidler, meet Mike and Liz for the first time. Tracy immediately saw through Dexter’s story that they were friends of her older brother’s and knows they’re reporters, but agreed to play along when Dexter informed her that Sidney Kidd intends to publish a story about Tracy’s father’s affair with a dancer unless he gets a story on her wedding. To protest the situation, Tracy and Dinah decide to put on a show for Mike and Liz, who don’t know that they know they’re reporters, and it is maybe my favorite comedic scene in any movie. First Dinah dramatically stumbles in wearing pointe shoes and some gaudy jewelry that was a wedding present she previously insulted. She then puts on an overly posh voice as she explains that she spoke French before she spoke English – “C’est vrai absolument!” – and boasts that she can play the piano “and sing at the same time!” She makes her way to the piano with the least graceful toe walk possible, and then bangs out a very silly rendition of “Lydia the Tattooed Lady,” a song mainly associated with Groucho Marx. While Mike and Liz are staring at her in bewilderment, Tracy peeks into the room and beams like she’s never been prouder of her sister. Once the song is finished, Tracy enters and praises Dinah in French, comparing her to Chopin, and then saying Dinah looks ill and she hopes it’s not smallpox, which freaks out Mike and Liz, but the audience knows it’s a private joke because earlier Tracy told Dinah that the only way she could postpone the wedding was to get smallpox. After Dinah leaves, it’s Tracy’s turn to confuse the reporters, and it is truly brilliant. The dialogue and the way it’s read, as Tracy turns the interview around and starts asking them invasive questions, is so good. Like when Tracy’s talking about how they don’t let any reporters in, “except for little Mr. Grace who does the social news. Can you imagine a grown-up man having to sink so low?” or when she’s welcoming them to Philadelphia and says, “It’s a quaint old place, don’t you think? Filled with relics, and how old are you, Mr. Connor?” It’s the seemingly accidental but actually very deliberate insults that get me. And then on top of that, there is some incredible yet subtle physical comedy going on throughout the conversation. Tracy accidentally-on-purpose pushes Mike and Liz into each other as she offers them seats, and there’s a whole very long bit between Tracy and Mike involving cigarettes, matches, and lighters that I didn’t even notice the first few times I watched it because I was too focused on what they were saying. It’s a thoroughly enjoyable scene all the way through, and every time I watch Tracy exit that room, leaving the reporters to ponder their bafflement, I have to applaud.

But the movie also excels at mixing some drama and seriousness in with the comedy. There’s a lot of focus on how Tracy demands perfection from herself and everyone around her, and as a result is missing out on the joys of human messiness. She makes a big deal about never drinking alcohol, although Dexter reveals that she did get drunk one time when they were married, and later remembered nothing about it. But after Dexter tells her that being married to her felt like being a high priest to a goddess, and George tells her that he worships her like a queen, and her father, who showed up uninvited, tells her she might just as well be made of bronze, Tracy gives in and starts drinking heavily at the party the night before her wedding, which was where Mike also got very drunk. Tracy and Mike meet up at Dexter’s house, then go back to her place, and dance and argue for a while until Mike kisses her and tells her that he sees her as a human being, which is a wonderful change of pace for her, so she suggests they go swimming together. Later, Dexter and George see Mike carrying Tracy back to the house, both of them in bathrobes, and George assumes the worst. The next morning, Tracy can’t remember what happened, but Dinah tells her that she saw Mike carry Tracy into her room – which is another excellent scene, Virginia Weidler was one of the best child actors of all time and people barely ever talk about her anymore, but she and Katharine Hepburn do a fabulous job of getting the point across that they both think Tracy slept with Mike the night before without breaking production codes. And then after that when Mike appears, he and Tracy have the most excruciatingly awkward conversation, and it’s so painful but so good. Dexter also shows up trying to comfort Tracy, and I love the way he doesn’t accuse her or condemn her or even ask her what happened, partly because he knows she doesn’t remember, partly because Mike told him nothing happened, but partly because you get the feeling that he wouldn’t think any less of her if she had drunkenly hooked up with Mike. And maybe that’s reading too much into this, but his reaction is certainly quite different from George’s, which I guess makes sense because technically she would have been cheating on George and not Dexter, but George doesn’t even let her explain before breaking up with her by note. He does finally show up in person as she’s reading the note aloud to Dexter, Mike, and Liz, and their confrontation is so well done – I particularly love Liz’s “Say something, stupid!” to Mike, who is just standing there listening to George accuse Tracy of having an affair with him. But after a while, Mike does eventually reveal that their so-called affair consisted of exactly two kisses and a rather late swim. Tracy and George don’t believe him at first, and then Tracy is offended, until he points out that she was very drunk and he didn’t want to take advantage of her. And like, I know that this movie was made in 1940, so the censors weren’t going to let Tracy actually have sex with another man the night before her wedding anyway, but I still can’t help loving the way they handled this. Tracy makes a bit of a fool of herself and learns that George is not the right man for her without going too far, and Mike demonstrates that it’s not that difficult to respect a woman’s autonomy and recognize when she is unable to consent.

I have a lot of mixed and complicated feelings about this story from an aroace perspective. On the one hand, it is very focused on romance and marriage. Also the whole thing about characters describing Tracy using phrases like “virgin goddess” and “perennial spinster, however many marriages” to illustrate her coldness and lack of human understanding is…not exactly an ace-affirming metaphor. On the other hand, I always appreciate stories about adults who have the chance to sleep together and choose not to, even when I know it’s at least partly because of production codes. And somehow, something about the way Dexter, Tracy, Mike, and Liz all interact give me hints of queer found family vibes, even though they end up paired off heterosexually. Maybe it’s the fact that it was directed by a gay man and features at least two probably queer actors that’s giving me that vibe, I don’t know. Another of my favorite scenes – I know, I have way too many – is when Dexter and Liz return to the Lord house after writing a blackmail note to Sidney Kidd. It’s a fairly short scene, but the way the two of them interact as platonic friends who understand each other but clearly don’t like each other romantically is not something I’m used to seeing in a scene featuring a man and a woman alone, and it makes me happy. Mike also has some great moments with Dexter, as does Tracy with Liz. I like to think that the four of them maintain their friendship after the events of the movie, rather than amatonormatively going off and doing their own thing with their spouse and forgetting about their friends. This movie does portray sex and romance as part of the human experience, but I don’t feel like it portrays them as the only important part. The message is all about pursuing the life that’s right for you, and not looking down on people who have different priorities, and when you look at it from that perspective, it actually is kind of ace-affirming, albeit probably unintentionally. But as I’ve indicated multiple times in previous episodes, asexual representation is so rare, and aromantic representation is even rarer, that if you can find an approximation of affirmation by tilting a story and squinting at it, even that feels exciting. That’s how low the bar is.

With that being said, as a teenager I definitely did relate to Tracy Lord, at least in terms of the way I was perceived. I think a lot of my peers thought that I thought I was better than them, when it was mostly that I just didn’t understand them. I don’t remember anyone calling me a goddess or a queen or a statue, but other middle and high schoolers definitely teased me for being “perfect”, which told me that they didn’t really see me as a person, so I felt Tracy’s pain and confusion when she got called out like that. I do think that like Tracy, I had a lot to learn about letting myself make mistakes and not judging other people too harshly for theirs, but I also still strongly feel that some of the criticism leveled at Tracy – and at me – was unwarranted. I can’t tell if the movie wants us to agree with Tracy’s father when he blames his philandering on not having the right kind of daughter, but I think that’s entirely unreasonable of him, and Tracy absolutely does not deserve that. And I’m not sure it’s fair of Dexter to blame her for contributing to his alcoholism, but at least Dexter takes some responsibility for his actions, unlike Seth Lord. I think my peers didn’t understand me any more than I understood them, but I probably could have cut them more slack and tried to get to know them better before writing most of them off as too different for me to possibly get to know. The circumstances in this movie are very different from being a high school misfit, but as a high schooler who often had trouble relating to movies that were actually about high school misfits, somehow this movie spoke to me. It was an escape from high school that also helped get me through high school. The story helped me become a less judgmental and more forgiving person toward others while also helping me feel better about being who I was unapologetically. I also got similar messages from other sources, so I don’t want to give this movie too much credit, but at the same time, I don’t think any single movie affected my teenage years more than this one, so I would certainly be a different person if I had never seen it.

The story of how this movie came about and what it led to is also very important to me. After appearing in several box office flops in the late 1930s – several of which made it onto this list – Katharine Hepburn left Hollywood for Broadway to star in and financially back the stage version of Philadelphia Story, which Philip Barry had written specifically for her. Howard Hughes purchased the film rights as a gift for Hepburn, with whom he had been romantically involved, although it seems like the romantic part of their relationship was over before that, so this is like My Man Godfrey in that it turned out the way it did partly because of exes who were still friends. Katharine Hepburn then sold the rights to Louis B. Mayer for only $250,000 on the condition that she would have input and veto power over producer, director, screenwriter, and cast. She got the director and writer she wanted, but her first choice for the two male leads – Clark Gable and Spencer Tracy – were unavailable. Gable reportedly hated George Cukor and was rumored to be at least partly responsible for the director being kicked off of Gone with the Wind, so it’s probably just as well that he wasn’t involved. Future lovers Hepburn and Tracy hadn’t even met yet at this point, so it would have been interesting if this was their first movie. But ultimately, Cary Grant came on board, under the condition that he would receive top billing, which feels a bit strange to see because Hepburn is clearly playing the main lead, but Grant also donated his entire salary to the British War Relief Society, so we can’t accuse him of too much selfishness. And James Stewart’s performance as Mike would earn him one of the film’s two Oscars, although he apparently thought that Henry Fonda should have won for The Grapes of Wrath, and that he had only received it as belated recognition for his performance in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington the previous year. Donald Ogden Stewart also won for Best Screenplay. The film was also nominated for Best Picture and Cukor was nominated for Best Director, and the performances of Katharine Hepburn and Ruth Hussey were nominated as well. The fact that Hepburn didn’t win – and lost to her rival Ginger Rogers, no less – indicates that Hollywood was still a little reluctant to welcome her back. But this movie crucially changed the public’s perception of Katharine Hepburn, transforming her from box office poison to a box office draw. They were calling her a has-been in 1938, but with The Philadelphia Story she showed them that she still had more to contribute, and her career took off in the 1940s, and lasted into the 1990s.

Even now, generations later, twenty years after Hepburn’s death, it’s easy to tell just by watching this movie why it was such a turning point for her. She completely embodies the spoiled socialite, but she makes Tracy sympathetic enough that when she is taken down a few pegs, as she needed to be, the audience feels sorry for her rather than gloating. Tracy is radiant enough that we understand why George worships her, yet she is down to earth enough that we understand her yearning to be seen not as an object of worship, but as a human being. Hepburn nails both the comedic scenes and the more serious dramatic scenes, with no hint of the desperately-trying-too-hard actress who comes across too often in some of her earlier films. While I obviously still love many of those films, watching this one feels like we’re seeing a Katharine Hepburn who has finally come into her own. There certainly was an element of trying to get the public to like her, but there’s no desperation about it. She gets this character, and knows how to make the audience get her too. I don’t think I could have found Tracy so relatable if she hadn’t been played like that. And listen, I’m thrilled that Ginger Rogers won an Oscar, especially because Hepburn would end up with four and didn’t really need this win, but if I had to pick one single all-time favorite film performance, I can’t think of any that would beat Katharine Hepburn’s Tracy Lord. Although I also have to say that I think Cary Grant’s performance as Dexter is incredibly underappreciated. I’ve said before that sometimes I have trouble taking him seriously in dramatic roles, but this was the ideal blend of seriousness and silliness for him, and he nails every emotional beat. He does an excellent job of showing the audience that he has grown and learned from the mistakes of his first marriage and is ready to move forward with healing his relationship with Tracy, which makes this a much better remarriage story than His Girl Friday, for example. There were a lot of movies made around this time about a divorced couple reconciling, mostly because that was the only way the Production Code allowed the scandalous topic of divorce to be addressed on film, but Philadelphia Story feels different from most of those. It’s more like Pride and Prejudice, if Pride and Prejudice started right after Elizabeth turned down Darcy’s first proposal. Both are about a couple who needed to grow and reflect before they could be happy together. I think those are my favorite kind of romances because they have less to do with attraction, which I don’t really understand, and more to do with trying to become the best version of oneself, which everyone can do regardless of how they feel about romance. Anyway, I’m a little sad that this was the last time Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn worked together, but I’m so glad they got to make this masterpiece before their careers diverged.

In 1956, The Philadelphia Story was remade as a musical film called High Society, which I watched 12 times. I enjoy that version too, although obviously not nearly as much as this version. It’s a fun romp, and the Cole Porter songs are great, but it doesn’t quite pack the same emotional punch as The Philadelphia Story. Strangely, considering I don’t think anything can touch Hepburn’s original portrayal, my favorite part of that movie is Grace Kelly’s performance as Tracy. She put her own spin on the character and was clearly having fun – probably at least partly because she’d already decided to retire from acting and marry a prince, and was wearing her actual engagement ring in the film. My biggest objection to High Society – and yes, I know I’ve complained about this too many times on this podcast but bear with me one more time – is the age gap between Dexter and Tracy. They’re supposed to have grown up together, but Bing Crosby was 26 years older than Grace Kelly, and their dynamic is just all wrong. The story doesn’t work if Dexter is old enough to be Tracy’s father! Whereas in Philadelphia Story, we’ve got Cary Grant who was born in 1904, Katharine Hepburn who was born in 1907, and James Stewart who was born in 1908. They were all basically the same age! It can be done! John Howard was born in 1913, so he was a bit younger, but I think that works for the way George looks up to and admires Tracy, and still that’s a relatively small gap. Anyway, we can add “getting actors of appropriate ages” to the long list of things The Philadelphia Story did right.

So there we have it. I’ve talked about all of my top 40 most frequently rewatched movies of my first 20 years of keeping track. Thank you so much for listening to all my rambling! I hope you’ve found this entertaining and informative – I know I have. I’m planning to do one more epilogue episode in a few weeks summarizing what I’ve learned from this project, so stay tuned for that if you’re interested. I also have lots of other ideas for movie-related podcasts that may or may not come to fruition, we’ll see. Since I don’t know what the next movie I’ll podcast about will be, I’ll leave you with one last quote from The Philadelphia Story: “We all go haywire at times, and if we don’t, maybe we ought to.”

#the philadelphia story #george cukor #katharine hepburn #cary grant #james stewart #i love this movie so much #this project has been a lot of fun #i'll be back with a conclusions episode soon-ish #but i'm going to take a break first

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the-rewatch-rewind · 6 months

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Yes, I've watched this full miniseries 37 times.

Script below the break

Hello and welcome back to The Rewatch Rewind! My name is Jane, and this is the podcast where I count down my top 40 most frequently rewatched movies in a 20-year period. Today I will be talking about number two on my list: BBC and A&E’s 1995 mini-series Pride and Prejudice, directed by Simon Langton, written by Andrew Davies, based on the novel by Jane Austen, and starring Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth.

Mr. and Mrs. Bennet (Benjamin Whitrow and Alison Steadman) have five daughters: beautiful and kind Jane (Susannah Harker), witty and strong-willed Elizabeth (Jennifer Ehle), homely and puritanical Mary (Lucy Briers), well-meaning but naïve Kitty (Polly Maberly), and frivolous and spoiled Lydia (Julia Sawalha). Because there are no Bennet sons, Mr. Bennet’s estate is entailed upon his cousin Mr. Collins (David Bamber), and the daughters are aware that at least one of them must marry well to provide for the rest of the family after their father’s death. When wealthy and friendly Mr. Bingley (Crispin Bonham-Carter) moves into the neighborhood, he and Jane quickly hit it off, and the Bennets’ problems seem to be over. However, Mr. Bingley’s sisters, Caroline (Anna Chancellor) and Louisa (Lucy Robinson), along with his unpleasant, proud friend Mr. Darcy (Colin Firth) have strong objections to the Bennet family, who strike them as undignified gold-diggers, even though Mr. Darcy unwillingly finds himself strangely drawn to Elizabeth.

Okay so yes, this is technically a TV show rather than a movie, but even though it’s over five hours long, I still tend to watch it as a movie, and it felt right to count it as such, although when I first wrote it down in my movie notebook, I never anticipated that it would become my second most-frequently-rewatched. I remember that my parents were really into it, and at some point when it was on TV after we finally got a VCR, they had taped it. I tried to watch it with them a few times when I was younger, but I found the flowery language difficult to understand, and I typically fell asleep in the middle without knowing what was going on. The first time I watched it and actually paid attention was in 2005, and the main thing I remember was that my dad assumed I knew the story by then and kept making spoilery comments. I don’t think I fully appreciated it at that point, but I definitely enjoyed it more than I thought I was going to. I ended up watching it twice in that year and then five times in 2006, which is when it became one of my favorite stories. I read the book and watched a few other adaptations that year. In 2007 I only watched this series once, but that was also the year that my family ended up getting two male puppies, and after much deliberation about what to name them, we determined that Bingley and Darcy were the best names that went together and represented something we all enjoyed. After that, I watched it three times in 2008, once in 2009, twice in 2010, four times in 2011, twice in 2012, twice in 2013, four times in 2014, once in 2015, once in 2016, twice in 2017, once in 2018, three times in 2020, once in 2021, and twice in 2022. I don’t remember exactly when, but somehow between my siblings, my parents, and I, we ended up with three copies of this on DVD in addition to the taped one. I should also mention that I only counted it when I watched the whole thing from start to finish within a few days, so I’ve watched it like that 37 times, but I’ve definitely seen pieces of it way more than that. I keep waiting to get tired of watching it, but every time I put it on, it remains delightfully enjoyable.

I know that Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen is one of the most beloved stories in the English-speaking world, and probably beyond – although the number of people confused by my dogs’ names taught me that not everyone is particularly familiar with it – and that it has been adapted and retold dozens of times, and that fans of the story have very strong opinions about which is the “best” adaptation. The loudest debate is between this version and the 2005 film directed by Joe Wright and starring Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfadyen. The first time I watched that version was in 2006, in the midst of my mania for the 1995 version, and I thought it was terrible. I knew it had to be shorter for the feature film format, but they cut out so many of my favorite parts! It wasn’t until I rewatched the 2005 version in 2016 that I understood that the people who prefer that version love this story for very different reasons from me. If you’re mostly invested in the Elizabeth/Darcy romance, that’s the version for you. It’s all about the tension and chemistry between those two characters, and everyone else is kind of stuck in as an afterthought. But even though the Bennet daughters’ need to get married is central to the plot, I had never considered the main appeal of this story to be its romance. To 2023 me and you the listener, who know that I’m aromantic, that isn’t very surprising, but at the time it kind of blew my mind to learn that so many fans of the story are there for that slow burn. Even in 2012 to 2013, when The Lizzie Bennet Diaries was coming out, I figured the reason people were so obsessed with Darcy was because not seeing him until episode 60 added to his mystique. At the end of that show, I was way more concerned about Lydia’s story than Lizzie’s, and while I enjoyed seeing Lizzie and Darcy finally get together, it was more of a “yay, things are happy now” relief than squeeing over the adorable romance. Anyway, while I used to be one of those obnoxiously pretentious fans who maintained that the 1995 adaptation was way better than the 2005 one, now I’m more of the opinion that they’re both good, just different, and just because I prefer one over the other doesn’t actually make it better. So if you’re listening to this and are a huge fan of the 2005 version, or any other adaptation, know that I’m not trying to tell you you’re wrong. Ultimately, Pride and Prejudice is a great story with many layers, and I think it’s awesome that there have been so many different versions that emphasize different aspects.

Despite the fact that this version is quite long (although not nearly as long as the Lizzie Bennet Diaries), I personally love the pacing. The events of the story take place over about a year, and these six 55-minute episodes take their time bringing us through that year with the characters. Watching it now, I don’t understand how I ever fell asleep with it on as a child, because I am thoroughly engaged the whole way through. Sometimes I intend to only watch an episode or two at a time, but I end up sitting through the whole thing because I cannot tear myself away. These characters are just so fascinating, and the cast brings them to life so convincingly. In general, I try to separate actors from characters, but I will always associate this cast with this show. Part of that is because of how many times I’ve watched this, and another part is because most of these actors haven’t been in very many American films – with the major exception, of course, of Colin Firth, whose Hollywood career skyrocketed after the success of this series – so I haven’t seen them in many other things. But the main reason is because they all embody their characters so perfectly in this series that it’s hard to see them as actors. Every cast member fully committed to their character in a way that somehow makes them feel simultaneously larger than life and grounded in reality. Alison Steadman’s Mrs. Bennet in particular is over the top and ridiculous but manages to just barely remain believable. While the five Bennet sisters on the surface can be summarized by archetypes, they’re much deeper than they first appear, and I love the ways that both the writing and the performances gradually bring that out. Crispin Bonham-Carter perfectly embodies the puppy-dog friendliness and gullibility of Bingley, and Colin Firth nails Darcy’s transformation after Elizabeth calls him out. Benjamin Whitrow makes Mr. Bennet so likable that it took me a while to understand that part of the family’s plight is his fault. That kind of complexity is one of the major things that makes this movie so rewatchable. There are so many layers to every storyline and every character that you can’t possibly uncover them all in just a few views. There’s also a lot going on in the background – like, Mary doesn’t get very many lines, but I love watching her light up whenever Mr. Collins is around. The show is edited in such a way that the audience can see what every relevant character is thinking at all times, so that even when it’s difficult to understand the fancy dialogue, we still get what’s happening based on the characters’ reactions.

This adaptation receives a lot of praise for its faithfulness to the novel, but while it does follow the book quite closely, I don’t think it gets enough credit for the changes and additions it made that were still in the spirit of the original story. There is some dialogue that was taken word for word from the book, but Jane Austen tended to summarize conversations rather than transcribing them, so quite a bit of new dialogue needed to be added, and I personally find it difficult to tell where Jane Austen ends and Andrew Davies takes over. Austen didn’t write scenes that only featured male characters, claiming that she had no way of knowing how men spoke or behaved when there were no women present, but this show opens with a scene between Bingley and Darcy and focuses a bit more on their friendship than the book does. The change in this version that gets the most attention is when Darcy unexpectedly happens upon Elizabeth after having taken a swim in a lake on his property at Pemberley. I always just saw this as a silly way to add to the awkwardness of the situation, with Darcy trying to remain dignified in soaking, casual clothes, and it surprised me to learn that a lot of people love that scene because Colin Firth apparently looks very sexy in his wet shirt. The change that I personally find most interesting is in the letter that Darcy writes explaining himself to Elizabeth after she turns down his first proposal. In the book, he starts with the allegations about breaking up Jane and Bingley and then moves on to the more serious stuff about how Wickham (played by Adrian Lukis, who told Elizabeth that Darcy ruined his life) had tried to seduce Darcy’s younger sister. In this version, the letter starts with the Wickham stuff and ends with the Bingley stuff because we’re initially watching Darcy and flashbacks of his memories, and then halfway through revealing the letter to the audience, we see Darcy give it to Elizabeth, and then we see her reactions to reading his thoughts about her sister and the rest of her family, along with flashbacks of her memories. Darcy is rather arrogant when he talks about separating Bingley from Jane, so I feel like it makes a little more sense for him to start with that when he’s upset by Elizabeth’s rejection and then move on to the darker Wickham drama, but I really like the way this version shows their reactions to the part of the letter that’s most painful to each of them. And before he writes the letter, we see Darcy dwelling on Elizabeth’s words, and he reacts to what she said about Wickham by saying aloud to himself, “At least in that I may defend myself,” implying that the Wickham story is what prompted him to write the letter in the first place, explaining why he starts with that this time. So it’s true to the original without being constrained by the original, and I think that’s what makes it work so well as an adaptation.

As I said before, many people think of Pride and Prejudice as primarily a romantic story, and like, they’re not wrong, but there’s so much more to it than that. There’s a lot of focus on familial relationships, especially between the two eldest daughters, Jane and Elizabeth, which I’ve always appreciated for its similarities to my relationship with my sister. It’s also worth noting that in this society, women in the Bennets’ station could not get a job, so they basically had two options: marry well, or depend on a male relative. Marriage was essentially a business arrangement, not necessarily a romantic one. In the first episode, Jane and Elizabeth have a conversation about their situation in which Elizabeth says that because Jane is the prettiest and sweetest of the sisters, she will need to be the one to marry very well, and Jane responds with, “But Lizzy, I would wish… I should so much like… to marry for love.” And then she makes this amazing face like she can hardly believe how unreasonable she’s being. Elizabeth assures her, “And so you shall, I’m sure. Only take care you fall in love with a man of good fortune.” But when Jane asks Elizabeth how she feels about marriage, she asserts, “I am determined that nothing but the very deepest love will induce me into matrimony. So, I shall end an old maid and teach your ten children to embroider cushions and play their instruments very ill!” And they laugh. But Elizabeth is completely serious, at least about the first part, as she demonstrates when she turns down two very lucrative marriage proposals that most sensible women in her position would have eagerly accepted. Both men – Mr. Collins and Mr. Darcy – think they are doing her a great favor in offering their hand and are shocked by her refusal. Mr. Collins is a bit of a doofus, but he is also going to inherit her father’s house, and it would therefore be the honorable thing for him to marry one of the Bennet daughters so they could at least continue to live there after Mr. Bennet’s death. But Elizabeth knew he would make her miserable and was unwilling to put up with him merely for security. One could say she slapped amatonormativity in the face, and we love to see it. But interestingly, when Mr. Collins does get married, it’s to the very aro-coded Charlotte Lucas (played by Lucy Scott). Her good friend Elizabeth is utterly shocked that anyone, let alone someone she cares about, would agree to marry Mr. Collins. But Charlotte literally tells Lizzy, “I’m not romantic, you know. I never was.” Aromantic queen. And when Elizabeth vents to Jane about this, Jane has the great line, “You do not make allowances for differences of situation and temper.” Jane is the ally we all need. Later, when Elizabeth visits the Collinses, Charlotte makes it clear that she kind of just does her own thing and barely sees her husband, and Elizabeth feels bad for her friend, but honestly, Charlotte’s life doesn’t sound so bad to me. She has security, and her husband mostly leaves her alone. Things didn’t get much better for an introverted aroace woman in that society. Although part of me does still wish that Mary had ended up with Collins, since she also seems like an introvert on the aroace spectrum, but she actually likes him.

Elizabeth is the opposite of aroace, but the way she refuses to listen when society tells her she’s supposed to marry for money feels kind of similar to modern aroace people refusing to listen when society tells us we’re supposed to fall in romantic, sexual love. One of the things I appreciate most about this story is how it demonstrates that everyone and every relationship is different. Jane and Bingley immediately fall for each other and are perfectly compatible, but because they place so much trust in the people around them, it takes a while for them to officially get together. And I don’t just mean the way Bingley’s sisters and Darcy pulled him away – Elizabeth kept reassuring Jane that it was obvious how she felt about Bingley because it was obvious to her, and neither of them realized that a stranger would just see Jane’s kindness to Bingley as treating him like she treats everyone else. Elizabeth and Darcy are just as well suited for each other as Jane and Bingley are, but they both have some major growing to do – they need to overcome their pride and prejudice, if you will – before they can be together. And then there’s Lydia and Wickham, whose relationship is based mainly on lust. Neither of them seems to have learned anything between the beginning and end of their story, and it’s hard to imagine them being happy together. I used to think of Lydia as a spoiled brat who got what she deserved, but now I feel really bad for her. She was a 15-year-old child who was preyed upon by a grown man, and the best-case scenario was for her to marry him. Her plight demonstrates just how awful the societal rules regarding sex were for women, although the story barely seems aware of it. Her elopement is used as a plot device for Darcy to redeem himself, and the focus is all on how her sisters’ chances of good marriages have been damaged. It’s kind of odd that so many social norms are condemned in this story, and yet Lydia is portrayed as deserving of life-long punishment for daring to break one rule. Jane Austen was progressive, but not that progressive. So that’s the one part of this that bothers me. If you too want justice for Lydia, I highly recommend The Lizzie Bennet Diaries on YouTube, which does an excellent job of humanizing and redeeming her.

Anyway, back to this version, I love that it includes another couple that many adaptations leave out – Mr. and Mrs. Hurst. Mrs. Hurst is Mr. Bingley’s sister Louisa, who, along with their sister Caroline, loves to make fun of and criticize the Bennets. Caroline is partly motivated in her criticism by jealousy, since she has her eye on Darcy and can tell that he’s interested in Elizabeth. But Louisa seems to be motivated by pure snobbery. Which is kind of hilarious because her husband is basically a loser. He doesn’t seem to have an estate or anything, since they’re always staying with her brother, and all he does is drink, hunt, play cards, and sleep. It’s just like, girl, you have no room to criticize anyone’s situation or decisions when you’re stuck with that guy. This just further helps demonstrate that nobody fits society’s ideal, so maybe we should all just live and let live. The characters who remain proud and prejudiced at the end of the story are mostly bitter and unhappy, while those who have learned to look at things from other people’s perspectives are the happiest. And I really like that message.

And aside from the fascinating social commentary, this series is a delightfully fun watch, full of great moments that I will never tire of revisiting. I love, or at least am intrigued by, all the characters, from the leads to the most obscure side characters. She’s barely in it, but one of my favorites is Mrs. Bennet’s sister, Mrs. Phillips, played by Lynn Farleigh. Between her interactions with Mr. Collins, who accidentally insults her and then frustrates her as a whist partner, and the way she consoles Mrs. Bennet after Lydia runs off with Wickham, her lines are some of my favorites to quote. And of course, there’s Lady Catherine de Bourgh, Mr. Collins’s benefactor and Mr. Darcy’s aunt, played by Barbara Leigh-Hunt, who is so impressed with herself that she can’t tell that she’s almost as ridiculous as Mrs. Bennet. I love Sir William Lucas’s “Capital, capital!” and Maria Lucas’s commitment to making haste. Even the characters I don’t like as people are interesting to watch. Wickham is the worst, but I’m almost impressed by his gall. Like, the fact that he can face the Bennets after seducing Lydia as if he’s done nothing wrong is astounding. That man truly has no shame.

While I enjoy pretty much every moment of this series, I have to say that my favorite episode is the fifth one. It really doesn’t seem like it should be, since that’s when the whole Wickham/Lydia stuff is going on and everybody is super stressed, but it has so many of my favorite moments. Like when Elizabeth is playing the pianoforte at Pemberley and a random servant feels the need to stand right in front of her, bow to no one in particular, and then walk offscreen. I don’t know who that bowing servant is or why he does that but I love him. And then there’s the part when Elizabeth returns home with her aunt and uncle, and her cousins are so excited to see their parents again that one of them tries to do a cartwheel and ends up just falling over. And in another wonderful deviation from the novel, Mr. Collins decides to visit the Bennets, ostensibly to console them, but really to gloat that their problems aren’t his problems because he didn’t marry one of them. In the book, he does this by writing a letter, but it’s way funnier to have him visit them, and get to see Mary be impressed with him again. But the best part of that scene is that when Kitty sees his carriage coming, she declares, “I’m not going to sit with him for anyone!” and runs off to hide in the yard. Later, when he’s talking to the other sisters, we can see Kitty peering through the window to see if he’s still there, and it makes me laugh every time.

This show is so good that I would still love watching and quoting it anyway, but I do think my enjoyment has been at least somewhat enhanced by having dogs named after two of the characters. The names really suited them, too – dog Darcy was standoffish toward strangers, but with the people he liked he could be very cuddly, whereas Bingley would pretty much follow anyone around to see what they were up to. Bingley absolutely loved to play fetch, while Darcy would just stare at him like, “What is wrong with you?” in the perfect dog version of how their namesakes felt about dancing. Sadly, Darcy got cancer and died in 2020. Bingley is still hanging in there, although at 16 years old he’s definitely declining, and his fetching days are long behind him. There are a lot of differences between me and Jane Bennet, as she is clearly not aroace, but since we share the same first name and are both the eldest sibling, I’ve always felt a kinship to her, and it makes me happy that presumably we each got to watch our own Mr. Bingley grow old. I think after he inevitably passes, watching this series will probably feel bittersweet for a while, although I don’t think that will make me love it any less. I anticipate continuing to watch it at least once a year on the 26th of November, in honor of the Netherfield Ball, while fondly reminiscing about fetching with Bingley and snuggling with Darcy.

I could go on and on about this movie for hours, but ultimately, what it all boils down to is I love the 1995 Pride and Prejudice because it is an excellent story told extraordinarily well, about characters who are exactly as ridiculous and flawed as real people. So if you’ve thought about watching this version but have been turned off by the length, I highly recommend giving it a chance anyway. Yes it’s almost six hours long, but it’s a thoroughly enjoyable way to spend almost six hours. I was suffering from depression when I first got into this series, and it was one of the few things that made me feel good about life. And if I had not already been in love with this version, I probably wouldn’t have watched The Lizzie Bennet Diaries, and therefore might never have gotten into Shipwrecked Comedy, and that would be very sad. So I have a lot to thank this miniseries for.

Thank you for listening to me discuss another of my most frequently rewatched movies. It’s a little hard for even me to believe that I’ve rewatched Pride and Prejudice more than any other movie besides one in the last 20 years, but I think it really is my second favorite movie, so it’s fitting that it ended up here. Now I only have one movie left, and it’s number one by a lot, with 51 views compared to P&P’s 37. So stay tuned for what is clearly my favorite film. And now, for the last time, as always, I will leave you with a quote from that next movie: “My, she was yare.”

#pride and prejudice #pride and prejudice 1995 #the rewatch rewind

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the-rewatch-rewind · 6 months

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My love for this movie is difficult to express, but here is my attempt.

Script below the break

Hello and welcome back to the Rewatch Rewind. My name is Jane, and this is the podcast where I count down my top 40 most frequently rewatched movies in a 20-year period. Today I will be talking about number three on my list: Paramount Pictures, Guber-Peters Company, PolyGram Pictures, and Debra Hill Productions’ 1985 comedy mystery Clue, directed by Jonathan Lynn, written by John Landis and Jonathan Lynn based on the board game Cluedo designed by Anthony E Pratt, and starring Eileen Brennan, Tim Curry, Madeline Kahn, Christopher Lloyd, Michael McKean, Martin Mull, and Lesley Ann Warren.

Six strangers are invited to an ominous, secluded mansion to meet the man who has been anonymously blackmailing them. But someone wants to protect their secret badly enough to kill for it, and as the bodies begin to pile up, the butler, maid, and guests race to discover the culprit before the police arrive.

I grew up in a board game playing family, so I learned how to play Clue soon after I learned how to read. We also had a slightly more complicated version of the game called Master Detective, which had more possible suspects, weapons, and rooms and included a couple extra features, and that has pretty much always been my favorite board game. What I particularly loved about it, especially as a child who never had much hope of beating my parents at games that required any skill, was that it was fun regardless of who the winner ended up being. I just liked seeing how close I could get to the solution before someone else inevitably solved it. I remember my parents mentioning that there was a movie version of Clue that had three different endings, and that they had seen Ending B in a theater, which confused and intrigued me.

The first time I ever watched this movie was when it happened to come on TV when I was visiting my grandparents. I think I was around 10 years old, and I actually thought it was kind of scary. Watching seven murders take place in a creepy old house was a bit much for me. But even then, there was something about it that grabbed me. The characters were all kind of despicable, and yet I liked them. I wanted to see more from them. So we started renting this movie from our local Hollywood Video, over and over again, and eventually we bought it on VHS and later on DVD. Once I got over my initial fright and started appreciating it as a brilliant comedy, I could not get enough of this movie. I can’t even begin to guess how many times I watched Clue before I started tracking my views in 2003, but I know it was a lot because every moment of the movie was already committed to my memory. If I was ever bored, I could close my eyes and play the film for myself with the projector of my mind. I wrote out the entire script so I could count how many words each character spoke. I used toys to act out the entire movie, along with the only person I knew who was more obsessed with Clue than I was: my brother, who was also fascinated by these characters and their antics, although as a preschooler he certainly did not fully understand the plot. But that was fine because ultimately, this movie’s appeal is not its plot, which is basically nonsense; it’s the ensemble. And it was so great having somebody close to me who understood that the same way I did. I think the rest of our family liked this movie too, but they definitely ended up watching it way more than they would have without my brother’s and my insistence.

My need to rewatch this movie was already beginning to wear off before I started keeping track, since the whole thing already lived rent-free in my brain, but even so, I watched it six times in 2003, four times in 2004, once in 2005, three times in 2006, twice in 2007, once in 2008, once in 2009, four times in 2010, twice in 2011, once in 2012, three times in 2013, once in 2014, twice in 2015, once in 2016, once in 2017, once in 2018, and once in 2021. I think part of why I’ve been watching it less in recent years is because ever since 2016, when I’ve felt like watching something like this, I’ve tended to watch Poe Party instead of Clue. But that’s not to say that I don’t still absolutely love Clue. I’ve just seen it enough that I don’t need to actually sit down in front of a screen to experience it.

One thing that I learned relatively recently that explains a lot is that apparently, Jonathan Lynn screened the movie His Girl Friday for the cast of Clue to demonstrate the feel he wanted for this movie. Even though Clue was made in the 1980s, it takes place in the 1950s, and was intentionally mimicking the style of fast-talking screwball comedies from the 1930s and ‘40s. So while I still consider watching Singin’ in the Rain in 2002 my proper introduction to Old Hollywood, falling in love with Clue a couple years earlier really prepared me to fall in love with old movies. Characters who look glamorous and sophisticated but are actually goofballs getting involved in ridiculous situations is my jam, and Clue takes what classic screwballs did with that to a whole new level. The script brilliantly combined several different types of both old-fashioned and updated comedy, and the perfect cast brought it to life in the best possible way. I don’t know if the His Girl Friday screening had any real impact, but regardless, every member of the cast fully understood the assignment and absolutely crushed it. A big part of what makes this movie so rewatchable is that everybody is so on all of the time that it’s fun to focus on what they’re doing in the background. Martin Mull is an amazing confidently clueless Colonel Mustard. Lesley Ann Warren gives Miss Scarlet just the right amount of sass. Christopher Lloyd makes Professor Plum sleazy enough that we get the picture without it ever getting too uncomfortable. Eileen Brennan nails Mrs. Peacock’s barely-holding-it-together-but-can-still-judge-you temperament. Mr. Green is accident prone which means he brings in the physical comedy, and Michael McKean fully commits to it. Of the main characters, Mrs. White has the fewest lines, but Madeline Kahn makes her presence known, doing absolutely everything possible with what she’s given, and improvising one of the greatest, funniest speeches in movie history. Jonathan Lynn discouraged improvisation on the set in general, but Kahn going on and on about the flames on the side of her face was too hilarious not to include. This devotion to delivering the lines exactly as written meant that Tim Curry as the butler Wadsworth, who ultimately figures out what happened and explains the whole thing, had to basically memorize a dictionary, and he killed it and I love him for it. When I was younger, I used to think I had a crush on Wadsworth, but I eventually came to realize that I just wanted to be Wadsworth, with the confidence to solve a puzzle and the eloquence to explain the solution in a highly entertaining, if long-winded, way.

The supporting cast is also excellent, and I wish that we could have seen more from them. Lee Ving’s name alone made him the perfect murder victim, but I also love the way he plays Mr. Boddy as sort of a cool mobster type of guy. Colleen Camp as the voluptuous, scantily clad maid Yvette is almost a throwaway joke of a character, but Camp manages to make her seem like a real person, or as real as any of these other ridiculous characters anyway. When I took French in high school and we all had to pick a French name, I chose Yvette because of this movie, even though I never even remotely identified with this character. Bill Henderson as the cop is an excellent straight man for the shenanigans with the bodies, which is either one of the funniest or most disturbing parts of the film, depending on how you look at it. Jeffrey Kramer, Kellye Nakahara, and Jane Wiedlin barely had anything to do, but they made their brief moments as memorable as possible. Basically, as fun as the script is, this movie would not have worked without an incredible cast, and thankfully, it has that. In some ways I wish the actors had been allowed to play around a bit more because then maybe we could have gotten other moments as epic as the flames speech, but at the same time, I feel like the pressure to say everything exactly as written in long takes added to the stress the characters were meant to be feeling. And the script is full of great jokes and excellent banter; it’s just that since the mystery aspect doesn’t really track anyway, I feel like the director could have let the actors have more fun with it.

I understand that they were trying to use the multiple endings to represent how the game is different every time, and also as a bit of a publicity stunt, but it kind of backfired. Theater-going audiences found it confusing, and the movie initially flopped. Thankfully with the home video version that included all three endings, Clue eventually did gain the cult following it deserves. But the problem is, in trying to accommodate three different solutions, the mystery gets lost in the middle, and none of the endings actually track. Yvette’s death is the part that makes the least sense – we clearly see that Mrs. Peacock and Mrs. White were both elsewhere seconds beforehand, so endings B and C don’t work, and in ending A Yvette was working with the killer so what she says right before she is killed doesn’t make any sense. For all of Wadsworth’s explanations, each ending leaves many unanswered questions, and they kind of draw attention to this in two of the endings, with one character saying, “There’s still one thing I don’t understand” and somebody else interjecting, “ONE thing?” Clearly this was meant to be a comedy rather than a serious murder mystery, but I do feel like if they weren’t trying to be so gimmicky, they could have made the mystery part work too (see Poe Party). Although in some ways, I kind of love that Clue doesn’t make sense. It feels perfectly consistent to have these characters who are pretending to be serious and dignified when they’re really all very silly people get caught up in a murder mystery with three endings that don’t work. When I point out Clue’s plot holes, it’s more like gently ribbing a friend than cinematic critique. I have to analyze the flaws in the story because of who I am as an overthinker, but I don’t think the flaws make it bad; if anything, they increase my enjoyment of the movie. It’s like a game: spot all the inconsistencies, and then realize that none of them matter. Because ultimately, fans of this movie aren’t here for the story; we’re here for the cast and the vibes. I don’t really know how to describe it, but while there are certainly other fun mystery-parody-type comedies out there, none of the others I’ve seen has quite the same tone as Clue, and that’s another reason I keep rewatching it.

And from an aroace perspective, Clue is great because there really is no love story. I mean, people mention spouses and affairs, and jealousy is floated as a possible motive for murder, but none of the characters that we see fall in love with each other during the course of the movie. Professor Plum does hit on Miss Scarlet a bit, but her reaction is very, “What the hell is wrong with you? We have way more important things to worry about right now.” When the cop shows up, in order to prevent him from finding out about the murders, some of the characters pretend to be making out with the bodies as if they’re alive, which is very weird on many levels, but it’s kind of a great illustration of the ridiculousness of allonormativity. If the cop had looked twice at them he would have noticed something was off, but of course adults at a party are going to be making out, nothing to see here, moving on. I always thought this part was hilarious when I was younger, and now that I understand my identity better I can articulate my appreciation for the way this movie portrays people who are focused on romance as the weird ones. Obviously that’s specific to this situation – like, I think most alloromantic people would agree that being locked in a murder house is not the best time to pursue romance. But aromantic stories are so rare that I’ll take whatever I can find. When Clue mentions sex, it’s usually either as a punchline (“Life after death is as improbable as sex after marriage”) or part of a motive, since most of the blackmail victims are being blackmailed for something to do with sex. The sexual content is mostly in the background, adding to the vibes without pulling too much focus, kind of like some of my favorite classic films noirs. And this whole movie is so silly that I don’t feel like the sexiness is really meant to be taken seriously. Asking how an asexual person could possibly enjoy a film filled with so many blatantly allosexual characters would be just as ridiculous as asking how a person who had never killed anyone could possibly enjoy a film filled with so much murder. These characters clearly weren’t meant to be too relatable. But I still appreciate getting to see them on an evening when they’re at least mostly focused on things besides romance and sex.

I know I keep going on about how this movie is just silly fun, but one aspect that I do think was meant to be taken kind of seriously is the satirical criticism of McCarthyism. The exaggeratedly horrified gasps in response to Wadsworth's revelation that his wife had friends who were socialists is funny, but also, people’s lives were legitimately ruined because of that attitude. The only line that all three endings have in common is “Communism is just a red herring,” which is relevant to the movie because characters were trying to tie the murders into Cold War-related motives that ended up being irrelevant, but also kind of describes how trying to stop communism was used as an excuse for atrocities that didn’t always have much if anything to do with communism. It’s a little odd to stick that message in this movie, and I don’t exactly know why it’s there, but I like the way it adds to the Old Hollywood connection. Filmmakers in the 1950s had to be very careful about the messages they put in their movies, and what they said outside of their movies, for fear of being blacklisted as suspected communists, so it seems fitting that this movie set in the 1950s would be calling that out. Although there were very much still Cold War tensions in the 1980s as well, which is perhaps why this message is all but buried in silliness. And maybe I’m wrong and this aspect was meant to be silly as well, but it feels rather pointed to me, so I wanted to bring it up as one of the many fascinating aspects of this film.

I truly believe that Clue is a great movie that has something for everyone, and highly recommend it to anyone listening who hasn’t seen it, but at the same time, I am incapable of separating the movie from my own nostalgia. I can’t imagine what I would think of this movie if I watched it today for the first time because I would be a fundamentally different person if I hadn’t seen Clue a zillion times when I was young. Not only did it inform my taste in movies going forward, but it also shaped my understanding of the world, in a way. I think like most children, I once assumed adults knew what they were doing, but this movie showed me a bunch of adults who didn’t have the slightest idea, which was simultaneously terrifying and comforting. It also changed the way I talked, because I used to quote this movie constantly. I do it less now, but there was a time when instead of “I wasn’t talking to you” I would always say, “I was asking Miss Scarlet!” Or when somebody was looking for a key, I’d go, “Never mind about the key; unlock the door!” If anybody said, “Maybe…” with a long pause, I’d have to follow it with “Mr. Boddy killed the cook!” And similarly, “Oh who cares?” always had to be followed by, “That guy doesn’t matter! Let him stay locked up for another half an hour! The police will be here by then, and there are TWO DEAD BODIES IN THE STUDY!!!” And if anyone got confused about numbers, I’d helpfully chime in, “Even if you were right, that would be one plus one plus two plus one, not one plus two plus one plus one.” I could go on, but I’d end up quoting the whole movie, because I’m pretty sure I’ve managed to work every single line into a non-Clue-related conversation at least once. Often people just stare at me blankly, but it’s fun quoting it to my siblings because they usually respond with the next line, and we can go through whole scenes if nobody stops us. I have so many fun memories of reciting and analyzing this movie with them, arguing about things like whether Mr. Boddy says, “It’s only glass” or “It’s hunky glass” about the conservatory wall – it’s definitely “only” but my sister will not be convinced. Memories of my little brother adorably misunderstanding lines, thinking that Mrs. White’s husband had a “big fair” with Yvette, or that Mrs. Peacock said, “Oh I got a horse!” instead of “Oh my god of course!” or that blackmail was what those dark brown UPS trucks delivered. At one point, I wrote a script for Master Detective, which had the same basic premise as Clue – a bunch of blackmail victims congregated in a house to confront their blackmailer and his accomplices – but made even less sense. I didn’t back it up so it disappeared when that computer died, thankfully, but I still remember enough of it to cringe about. Since all the suspects had color names, I decided all the murder victims needed themed names as well, so I named them all after body parts to go with Mr. Boddy and thought I was so clever. I don’t remember most of them anymore, but I know there was a Mr. Elbow and a Mrs. Toenail. I also remember at one point I wrote in the directions something like, “It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. In fact, Miss Peach drops a pin” and again was delighted by my own cleverness. My brother and I used to act it out with toys, and one time, after the dead body of the butler had been thrown out the window for some reason right before somebody else was arriving, my brother was being silly and had the new person pick up the dead body and say, “I brought your butler back!” seemingly without realizing that the butler was dead, and I thought that was so hilarious that I added it into the script, and it’s still my favorite part that I remember. It was a bad script, but in my defense I was very young, and anyway my point is, Clue inspired me to be creative in a fun way, without worrying about taking my work or myself too seriously, which is the attitude I’ve tried to take into making this podcast.

I feel like there is so much more I could say about Clue, but it’s hard to find words to adequately express how deeply I love this film. It feels wrong to call this a “comfort movie” when there are so many murders in it, but somehow it does feel comforting. It’s like an old friend, whose jokes I’ve heard a hundred times but still make me laugh, whom I love in spite of, and in some ways because of, their flaws. I know not everybody is into movies the way I am, but I think everybody needs at least one story or piece of art that they feel that way about. Not that experiencing art is a substitute for real friendship, but art is a form of human expression and connection that I think we all need in addition to relationships. And yes, I consider Clue to be a work of art. It’s a frickin masterpiece.

Thank you for listening to me discuss another of my most frequently rewatched movies. I fear these episodes are becoming less coherent as I get into my top films that I can’t even with, but I hope they’re still enjoyable. Next up will be my second most rewatched movie, which I have seen 37 times in its entirety even though it is by far the longest movie in my entire top 40. As always, I will leave you with a quote from that next movie: “Shelves in the closet. Happy thought indeed.”

#clue #clue movie #the rewatch rewind

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the-rewatch-rewind · 7 months

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What a glorious feeling

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Hello and welcome back to The Rewatch Rewind! My name is Jane, and this is the podcast where I count down my top 40 most frequently rewatched movies in a 20-year period. Today I will be discussing number four on my list: MGM’s 1952 musical Singin’ in the Rain, directed by Stanley Donen and Gene Kelly, written by Betty Comden and Adolph Green, and starring Gene Kelly, Donald O’Connor, and Debbie Reynolds.

It's 1927 and silent film stars Don Lockwood (Gene Kelly) and Lina Lamont (Jean Hagen) have just premiered another smash hit. To escape from a mob of fans, Don jumps into the car of Kathy Seldon (Debbie Reynolds), who is surprisingly unimpressed by him, which he is both insulted and intrigued by. Weeks later, when Don is still focused on trying to find Kathy again, and his friend Cosmo Brown (Donald O’Connor) is running out of ways to get him to snap out of it, the success of Hollywood’s first talking picture prompts the studio head to turn the next Lockwood and Lamont film into a talkie, and Don’s life – and Hollywood itself – will never be the same.

This is a very important movie to me because in a way, it’s the one that started it all. My love for Old Hollywood began in a movie theater at a 50th anniversary screening of Singin’ in the Rain. I’ve mentioned in several previous episodes that I started getting into Old Hollywood in 2002 – this is why. My mom took me to see it, and then based on my reaction started introducing me to more of her faves from around this era, and here I am, 21 years later, still loving these films. I can’t remember exactly when I watched Singin’ in the Rain the second time; I might have seen it again in 2002, I don’t know. But I believe it was 2003 when we bought it on VHS while on a family road trip. We had a little TV/VCR that we used to set on top of a cooler behind the front seats, held in place with bungee cords. I could not get enough of this movie and insisted on watching it probably way more times than my siblings wanted on that road trip, although I think they enjoyed it too, just not quite to the extent that I did. I watched it seven times in 2003, six times in 2004, three times in 2005, once in 2006, once in 2007, twice in 2009, once in 2010, once in 2011, twice in 2012, once in 2013, twice in 2015, once in 2016, once in 2019, once in 2020, once in 2021, and twice in 2022. I can’t remember when, but at some point I ended up with a DVD in addition to the VHS. And one of my 2022 watches was in a theater for the 70th anniversary. While in many ways that was a very different experience from the first time I saw it, since every moment of the movie was deeply familiar rather than fresh and new to me, it felt no less magical. I still love this movie just as much as, if not more than, the first time I watched it, and I am so grateful that it introduced me to a world of films from generations before my time.

There is so much to love about this movie that I don’t even really know where to start. The dialogue is clever and delightful, the casting was perfect and the performances are brilliant, the costumes, sets, and lighting are gorgeous, and the music makes you feel like you’ll never be unhappy again. In some ways, it’s actually kind of similar to Mamma Mia, in that it’s a jukebox musical. Like how Mamma Mia took popular ABBA songs and loosely draped a story around them, Singin’ in the Rain took a bunch of old songs, mostly written by MGM producer Arthur Freed (who came up with the idea) and Nacio Herb Brown, and tied them together with a story. I will say I feel like the story of Singin’ in the Rain works quite a bit better, mainly because the subject matter fits the songs so well. It was a stroke of genius to make the movie that would feature songs from early talkies be about early talkies. Freed and Brown did write one new song specifically for this movie, “Make Em Laugh,” but it bears a remarkable resemblance to Cole Porter’s “Be a Clown” from the 1948 Freed-produced film The Pirate. Screenwriters Comden and Green wrote the “Moses Supposes” song based on an existing tongue-twister, but all of the other songs in the film had been featured in at least one previous movie. These days, Singin’ in the Rain is such a beloved, iconic movie that many of the songs’ origins are all but forgotten, and they’re generally associated with this picture. But it’s always kind of fun to be watching some random old movie that predates this one and hear one of these songs pop up. Probably my favorite instance of this is in Adam’s Rib, which was number 27 on this list and made in 1949, when Tom Ewell’s character is going to visit his mistress, played by Jean Hagen, he’s whistling “You Are My Lucky Star,” and I love that both that song and that actress ended up in this movie three years later.

A big part of what makes Singin’ in the Rain such a perfect introduction to Old Hollywood is that the songs are from Old Hollywood and the story is about Old Hollywood. It’s so fascinating to watch the characters figuring out the technical aspects of adding sound to a medium that modern audiences automatically associate with sound. But even beyond that, this movie breaks the illusion of Hollywood glamor while still sort of trying to hide behind that illusion, in a way that almost feels like it’s laughing at itself. So much of the story is about how movie magic relies on facades and deception. The movie starts with a red-carpet interview where Don tells of his rise to fame and his motto: “Dignity, always dignity,” while the audience sees flashbacks of his very undignified beginnings. Lina is on screen looking quietly glamorous for about 10 minutes before she finally speaks, revealing what the silence of her films has concealed: her voice is almost unbearably squeaky and obnoxious. So in order to make her presentable in a talking picture – which eventually becomes a musical – her voice is dubbed by Kathy. Initially the plan is to credit Kathy as Lina’s voice and use this to help launch her to stardom, but Lina threatens to sue the studio unless they force Kathy to be her voice indefinitely without credit. I don’t think it was usually quite that dramatic, but uncredited dubbing happened all the time. In previous episodes, I’ve mentioned Marni Nixon, who dubbed the singing for many iconic performances, such as Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady and Natalie Wood in West Side Story, without credit at the time, although now her contributions are kind of general knowledge, at least among movie buffs. But we don’t even have to go that far to find an example: it happened in Singin’ in the Rain itself! Betty Noyes, also known for singing “Baby Mine” in the Disney movie Dumbo, sang for Debbie Reynolds in a couple of her songs without credit, notably including “Would You?” which Kathy is meant to be dubbing for Lina. So Betty Noyes sang for Debbie Reynolds when she was singing for Jean Hagen. (Part of the time, anyway. The “Singin’ in the Rain” reprise that Kathy sings for Lina behind the curtain was definitely Debbie Reynolds’s voice.) Even more ironically, when Kathy is dubbing Lina’s dialogue (“Nothing can keep us apart, our love with last ‘til the stars turn cold”), that was Jean Hagen’s normal speaking voice, so Jean Hagen dubbed Debbie Reynolds dubbing Jean Hagen. I just can’t get over how blatantly these filmmakers went, “Hollywood is fake and yes that includes us” – although I suppose it was much less blatant at the time, I’m not sure at what point all of this became so well-known.

Learning about the dubbing didn’t decrease my love for this movie, although some of the other behind-the-scenes trivia kind of did – specifically the fact that nobody seemed to have a very good time working with Gene Kelly because he was so demanding and impatient, particularly with then 19-year-old Debbie Reynolds, who was not a very experienced dancer, which Kelly found exasperating, even though he knew about it when she got the role. Apparently at one point Fred Astaire – also a notoriously demanding perfectionist – found her crying under a piano at the studio and offered to help her with her dancing. She learned fast and committed hard, literally bursting blood vessels in her feet during the “Good Morning” number. Reynolds later famously said that Singin’ in the Rain and childbirth were the two hardest things she ever had to do. Not that she was the only one who worked hard. Gene Kelly was sick with a 103-degree fever when he performed one of the most famous scenes in Hollywood history, dancing and singing to the title song. I used to view this as admirable, but now I’m like, maybe they could have waited to film it until he got better? Similarly, Donald O’Connor, who was smoking four packs of cigarettes a day at the time, had to rest in the hospital for several days after filming the “Make ‘Em Laugh” scene, and again, it’s like, it’s an incredible performance in a great number, but was it really worth going to the hospital for? Both the story within this movie and the story of how it was made raise some very interesting questions about the “point” of motion pictures – as art, as entertainment, and as an industry – that are still being wrestled with today. Personally, I don’t believe anyone should be forced to risk their health for their job, but at the same time I appreciate how dedicated everyone involved was to making this masterpiece the best it could possibly be. It certainly paid off in this instance. It’s easy for me to say now that it would have been worth making a slightly worse movie if that meant protecting the well-being of the actors, but maybe if it was worse I wouldn’t have quite fallen in love with it to this degree and my life would look very different. So I still don’t know how to feel about all this. And I don’t even know how much it matters anymore, given that the only major cast member still alive is Rita Moreno, whom I absolutely would not have recognized without seeing her name in the credits, and I don’t think she personally was injured on this set – although she was originally supposed to sing “I’ve Got a Feelin’ You’re Foolin’” which then got absorbed into the “Beautiful Girl Montage” that she wasn’t part of, which is a major bummer because she deserved a bigger role in this.

Anyway, speaking of complicated feelings, let’s talk about the romantic aspects of Singin’ in the Rain. The romance between Don and Kathy is an important part of the story, and while that’s a little disturbing knowing how terribly Kelly treated Reynolds on set, and that he was approximately twice her age, their characters’ relationship within the movie is mostly very sweet and I don’t really have a problem with it. And I appreciate how much screentime is devoted to the friendship between Don and Cosmo, which Don is shown continuing to value just as much as he always did even after he starts seeing Kathy. It’s always great to see characters refusing to follow the amatonormative idea of a relationship hierarchy, with every other relationship falling far below one’s romantic partnership. I love the scene in Don’s house that leads to the “Good Morning” number partly because it’s an important turning point in the story and it’s a great song, but also because it shows Don and Kathy and Cosmo as a trio, not a couple with a third wheel, which is so lovely to see. But though Don does his best to resist amatonormativity, it still pursues him rather relentlessly in the form of his costar, Lina Lamont. The studio leaks rumors that Don and Lina are romantically involved to increase publicity for their films, and Lina seems to believe them, despite Don’s adamant assertions that, “There is nothing between us. There has never been anything between us. Just air.” Their relationship is yet another example of a Hollywood façade, and one of my favorite scenes is when they’re working on a silent film and pretending to be madly in love when they’re in the middle of a fight. Their scene ends with a kiss, and as soon as the director yells, “Cut!” Don pushes Lina away in disgust, but she is so sold on their romance that she says, “Oh Donny, you couldn’t kiss me like that and not mean it just a teensy weensy bit!” to which he retorts, “Meet the greatest actor in the world! I’d rather kiss a tarantula!” It would be easy to attribute many of Lina’s actions to jealousy after Don falls in love with Kathy, which was definitely an important motivation, but it wasn’t her only motivation. Because while she is portrayed as relatively clueless, she has to know that the rise of talking pictures is bad for her. It’s not just that she’s losing her man, she’s also losing her career. When she tries to use her star power to force Kathy to work solely as her voice, part of that is certainly to get in the way of Don and Kathy’s happiness together, but I would argue that more of it was a desperate attempt to remain in an industry that was moving on without her. Lina is portrayed as the villain, and granted some of the things she does are pretty awful, but at the same time one can’t help feeling sorry for her. She was taken in by the glamor of Hollywood, unable to see that everything from her romance to her popularity was make-believe, and suddenly her entire life is crashing around her. We cheer when the curtain opens to reveal that Kathy is singing for Lina, but we also cry for her a little – at least, I do. I find Lina to be a thoroughly fascinating and compelling character, and Jean Hagen gives one of my all-time favorite performances (she was nominated for an Oscar and absolutely should have won), and I really want to know what happens to her after the events of the movie. Hopefully she realizes that she doesn’t need a man, least of all one who hates her like Don does, and finds a new career that makes her happy.

If being a Lina Lamont apologist doesn’t get me kicked out of Old Hollywood fan circles, this might: I don’t understand why Cyd Charisse is in this movie. I get that the “Broadway Melody” number is a gorgeous spectacle, but it doesn’t have anything to do with anything and it goes on way too long, and in world it makes zero sense. First of all, they have six weeks to basically remake their entire movie, and that number alone would have absolutely taken more than six weeks to put together. Secondly, a big part of the appeal of that number is how colorful everything is, but their film is in black and white. And like, okay, we can suspend disbelief and just accept that, but there is absolutely no way that Lina Lamont would put up with a 15-minute musical number in the middle of her picture, in which, not only does she not appear at all, but Don is dancing very suggestively with another woman. Like, come on. I know that having a random ballet toward the end of a musical was a major thing back then, especially in Gene Kelly films, but that has never made sense to me and it never will. And like, why did they give Cyd Charisse a very distinctive look for most of her part and then change it for the ballet so that she’s barely recognizable? It’s so confusing. Don’t get me wrong, I mean no disrespect to Charisse, she was a wonderful dancer, and I think it’s great that her appearance in this movie helped put her on the map and lead to bigger roles for her, it’s just that that scene is my personal least favorite part of the movie. Although I guess the message of that whole number can be boiled down to, “when romance fails, turn to your hobbies,” which is something I can definitely get behind. So maybe I wouldn’t cut it out entirely; I would just make it significantly shorter so we can get back to the main story faster.

The thing I find so compelling about this movie is that while it exposes Hollywood glamor as a sham, it also shows that when you see through that, there’s often still something valuable underneath. The smoke and mirrors of movie magic add to the entertainment value, but fundamentally, movies are stories, and storytelling is a deep-rooted feature of humanity. Sometimes when I tell people that I enjoy old movies, they assume that means I’m into the fancy costumes and larger-than-life stars, and like, I guess that’s part of it, but mostly I just really enjoy good stories that are told well, and that’s what a lot of old movies are. And it’s not just Hollywood that tries to glamorize people and their stories; our whole society does it, too, only to a slightly lesser extent. Just as Lina needed to conceal her unpleasant voice and the studio felt that Lockwood and Lamont would sell more tickets if people thought they were actually dating, or just as people thought Debbie Reynolds’s voice wasn’t strong enough for all of Kathy’s songs, normal people in everyday life feel the need to disguise facets of their identity that are less socially acceptable. Don’t act too queer, conform to your assigned gender role, don’t infodump about your hyperfixations; in short, put on a show to pretend to be “normal.” But just as nobody is really as glamorous and flawless as movie stars’ personas pretend to be, nobody is really normal either. Hopefully our society will someday get to the point where people don’t have to keep up this façade, and perhaps future movies will reflect that. But for now, it’s difficult to imagine a more perfect illustration of how the film industry reflects society than the layered deceptions of Singin’ in the Rain. It’s sort of halfway between satire and an honest reflection, and it works remarkably well as both. But it’s also very easy to just watch it as a fun musical without thinking too hard about any of this. I just happen to greatly enjoy overthinking the stories I love, and this happens to be one that lends itself to much overthinking, which is one of the many reasons why I love it.

Thank you for listening to me discuss another of my most frequently rewatched movies. It’s getting to the point where I know these movies so well that I’m not really sure how to talk about them to people who haven’t seen them, so if you’ve never watched Singin’ in the Rain and still managed to follow this episode, I’m very impressed. Next up is a movie that I’m pretty sure would be number one on this list if I’d started keeping track about two years earlier because I already had it completely memorized before 2003, but in the 20 years I was tracking I watched it a mere 35 times, leaving it at number three. As always, I will leave you with a quote from that next movie: “Well. Someone’s got to break the ice and it might as well be me. I mean, I’m used to being a hostess, it’s part of my husband’s work, and it’s always difficult when a group of new friends meet together for the first time, to get acquainted, so I’m perfectly prepared to start the ball rolling. I mean, I have absolutely no idea what we’re doing here, or what I’m doing here, or what this place is about, but I am determined to enjoy myself, and I’m very intrigued, and oh my, this soup’s delicious, isn’t it?”

#singin in the rain #stanley donan #gene kelly #donald o'connor #debbie reynolds #jean hagen #the rewatch rewind

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the-rewatch-rewind · 7 months

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Heaven, I'm in heaven...

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Hello and welcome back to The Rewatch Rewind! My name is Jane, and this is the podcast where I count down my top 40 most frequently rewatched films in a 20-year period. Today I will be discussing number five on my list: RKO’s 1935 musical comedy Top Hat, directed by Mark Sandrich, written by Allan Scott and Dwight Taylor, and starring Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.

American dancer Jerry Travers (Fred Astaire) comes to London to star in a show produced by his friend Horace Hardwick (Edward Everett Horton). The night before the show opens, Jerry’s tapdancing in Horace’s hotel room awakens model Dale Tremont (Ginger Rogers) in the room below. She calls the manager to complain, who calls the room above hers, and Horace answers the phone. Because he can’t hear over Jerry’s dancing, he leaves to see what the manager wants. Tired of waiting for the noise to stop, Dale storms upstairs to confront the dancer. Upon seeing her, Jerry immediately falls in love, and the next day he starts following her around in a mildly creepy but mostly charming way. However, he never tells her his name, and when Dale learns that her friend Madge Hardwick (Helen Broderick)’s husband is staying in the room above hers, she naturally assumes that Jerry is Horace Hardwick. All of this results in much confusion, hilarity, and of course, dancing.

Top Hat was one of the many old movies that my mom introduced me to in 2002, and it has been among my favorite films ever since. I had already seen it several times before I started keeping track, and then I watched it five times in 2003, three times in 2004, three times in 2005, once in 2006, once in 2009, twice in 2010, three times in 2011, four times in 2012, once each in 2013, 2014, 2016, 2017, and 2018, twice in 2020, once in 2021, and once in 2022. This was the first Fred and Ginger movie I ever saw, and while I’ve since watched and enjoyed all nine others multiple times, none could top Top Hat, in my opinion.

This was the fourth film that Fred and Ginger made together, but only the second in which they had starring roles, and the first that was written specifically for them. Two of their previous films – 1933’s Flying Down to Rio and 1935’s Roberta – gave them relatively small parts, although their scenes were unquestionably the highlights. In Flying Down to Rio, they got fourth and fifth billing and are barely in it, but they caused a splash with their one dance number, and an iconic duo was born. They got second and third billing in Roberta, in which they basically function as the B romantic pair, with Irene Dunne and Randolph Scott as the A couple. Fred and Ginger’s first starring roles had been in 1934’s The Gay Divorcee, which was an adaptation of the Broadway musical Gay Divorce. Critics of Top Hat (including Astaire himself) complained that it was basically a rehash of The Gay Divorcee, and like, I can see their point: both films have a weird mistaken identity story and feature essentially the same cast filling very similar roles – with the notable change from Alice Brady to Helen Broderick in the “Ginger’s older relative/friend” role. But while I also enjoy The Gay Divorcee, somehow I feel like Top Hat just works better. The story makes at least a little bit more sense, and they didn’t devote a quarter of the runtime to a single interminable musical number like The Gay Divorcee did with the frickin Continental… although The Piccolino came dangerously close to replicating that. After Top Hat, Fred and Ginger made five more films with RKO in the 1930s: 1936’s Follow the Fleet, in which they were basically the B couple like they had been in Roberta, although they did get top billing in this one; 1936’s Swing Time, which is mostly very good and would probably have made it onto this podcast if not for that one blackface number; 1937’s Shall We Dance, which I kind of slept on for a while but now I think is probably my second favorite of theirs, although the ending drags a bit; 1938’s Carefree, possibly their weirdest movie, which involves hypnotism; and 1939’s The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle, which I find to be disappointingly forgettable. Then, after 10 years apart, they reunited for MGM’s The Barkleys of Broadway in 1949, which is basically Fred and Ginger fan fiction and it makes me so happy that it exists.

While there were lots of other dancing musicals being made in Hollywood around this time, the Astaire/Rogers ones feel like their own genre, and not just because of the stars. I think a big part of what makes Top Hat feel like the quintessential Fred and Ginger film is the supporting cast. Edward Everett Horton, Helen Broderick, Erik Rhodes, and Eric Blore were each in at least one other Fred and Ginger movie, but this is the only one that has all four of them. Edward Everett Horton excelled at playing the kind of guy who thinks he’s in control of every situation, but actually has no clue what’s going on, and he’s especially in his element as Horace Hardwick, convinced that he can get to the bottom of everyone’s strange behavior while never suspecting that he could end all the confusion just by meeting Dale. Helen Broderick delivers wisecracks in a brilliantly dry, cynical tone that contrasts with Horton’s bumbling to great comedic effect. Their characters don’t seem to have a very functional marriage, but they also don’t really seem to mind that. Typically the “haha, married couples hate each other” types of jokes really irritate me, but Horace and Madge are such ridiculous characters that it’s actually kind of funny when they do it. And then there’s Erik Rhodes, whose absurdly over-the-top Italian characterization in Top Hat and The Gay Divorcee so offended Mussolini that both those films were banned in Italy. Personally I feel like Top Hat’s portrayal of Venice as a giant white soundstage is probably more insulting to Italians than a guy doing a bad accent and being silly is, but I don’t know, maybe it’s still offensive. To me, as a non-Italian, I just think Erik Rhodes is very funny as Alberto Beddini, the dressmaker whose clothes Dale is modeling. He has some truly excellent lines, like, “Never again will I allow women to wear my dresses!” and “I am no man; I am Beddini!” Despite his declarations of love for Dale, he is extremely queer-coded, while also interestingly being one of the most masculine characters in the film, which is…kind of the opposite of how male characters are typically queer-coded. So Alberto is very silly but also quite fascinating. Eric Blore was in half of the Fred and Ginger movies and he’s always hilarious. In Top Hat he plays Horace’s valet, Bates, who always refer to themselves in the plural (“We are Bates, sir”), so the next time someone complains to you about this so-called newfangled trend of young people messing with pronouns, feel free to point out that at least one middle-aged man was doing that way back in 1935. One of my favorite exchanges in the movie is when Horace is trying to explain to Bates that Jerry seems to have gotten into a perilous situation with a woman by saying, “He has practically put his foot right into a hornets’ nest” and Bates respond with, “But hornets’ nests grow on trees, sir.” “Never mind that. We have got to do something.” “What about rubbing it with butter, sir?” “You blasted fool, you can’t rub a girl with butter!” “My sister got into a hornets’ nest and we rubbed HER with butter, sir!” “That’s the wrong treatment, you should have used mud – never mind that!” It has nothing to do with anything but it makes me laugh every time. This supporting cast adds a silly, somewhat Vaudevillian aspect to Top Hat that no Fred and Ginger film would be complete without.

Of course, Fred and Ginger movies are better known for a different somewhat Vaudevillian aspect: their songs. It’s very interesting to watch Top Hat from a musical history perspective because it was made before the advent of the book musical – that is, a show where the songs are fully integrated into the story and used to tell a specific narrative. The songs in this movie do sort of advance the plot, but the lyrics are generic enough that they stand alone completely out of context. It’s kind of a bridge between the disjointed songs and scenes of vaudeville and the continuously flowing story of book musicals. All the music in Top Hat was written by the legendary Irving Berlin, including two solo numbers for Fred: “No Strings (I’m Fancy Free)” which is what Jerry is dancing to in the hotel when he disturbs Dale, and “Top Hat, White Tie and Tails” which is part of his show; and three numbers for both Fred and Ginger to dance to: “Isn’t This a Lovely Day (to Be Caught in the Rain)?” for soon after they meet, before Dale thinks that Jerry is Horace, “Cheek to Cheek” when they’re in love but Dale is conflicted because she thinks he’s married to Madge, who is confusingly encouraging them to dance, and “The Piccolino” after Dale finally learns Jerry’s true identity. Both Astaire and Rogers were significantly better dancers than singers, but typically Fred did most of the singing, and the only song he doesn’t sing in Top Hat is the Piccolino, apparently because he didn’t like it, so Ginger sings it first and then an offscreen chorus repeats it. My favorite number in the film has always been “Isn’t this a Lovely Day (to Be Caught in the Rain)?” because I love the way Jerry starts dancing fancier and fancier and is pleasantly surprised that Dale can keep up with him, and it’s fun that Ginger got to wear pants for once, and I also just really enjoy that song. There was a time soon after I first fell in love with this movie when I tried to make saying the word “lovely” a lot part of my personality, mainly inspired by this song. I truly enjoy all the numbers, even if I do think The Piccolino goes on a bit too long, although, again, it’s not nearly as painfully long as The Continental in The Gay Divorcee, which it’s clearly meant to pay homage to. But Fred and Ginger’s most famous dance number – certainly in this film, and also probably in any of their films – is “Cheek to Cheek.” It is pure, breathtaking magic, and even knowing about the major drama with Ginger’s dress in no way detracts from that.

I’ve heard a few different accounts of the dress drama with slightly conflicting details, but what they all seem to agree on is that Ginger Rogers insisted that a low-backed, light blue, ostrich feather dress would look perfect during the “Cheek to Cheek” dance, and pretty much everybody else tried to talk her out of it, but she refused to back down until they were all forced to concede. And she was correct, it looks incredible, although if you’re watching closely you can see some feathers falling off while she dances, which was the main objection to the dress. Fred Astaire was reportedly extremely annoyed about the flying feathers, although he betrays none of that to the audience, and afterwards gave Ginger the nickname “Feathers,” which he continued to call her for many years. My interpretation of this is that it started as kind of an insult when he was genuinely upset about the incident but evolved to become more of a term of endearment, although obviously I don’t know for sure. As far as I can tell, apart from the occasional disagreement, Fred and Ginger got along pretty well in real life, although the studio sometimes invented or exaggerated stories about them fighting to try to generate more buzz. Personally I don’t think that was necessary; their talent spoke for itself, and audiences would have flocked to their films whether or not there was conflict offscreen.

One thing that I don’t like about old movies is that in general, most of the people who worked on them were deceased before DVDs were invented, which means that the special features are often lacking. I have watched Top Hat with commentary, but it’s by a film historian and Fred Astaire’s daughter who was born after this movie was made. It’s mostly the historian talking, but every once in a while Astaire’s daughter shares a memory of her father, and every. single. time. the historian responds with, in the most patronizing tone of voice I’ve ever heard, “Thank you for telling us that” and I hate it so much. But one thing that I did learn from the commentary that I definitely wouldn’t have noticed if nobody had told me is that Lucille Ball makes a very small appearance in this movie as a worker at the flower shop in the London hotel. She has a couple of lines, but even though I’m used to watching her in Stage Door, which was only made two years after Top Hat, I absolutely would never have recognized her. So that’s kind of fun.

Now, when it comes to watching Top Hat from an aroace perspective, even I cannot deny that this movie in general, and the “Cheek to Cheek” number specifically, is extremely romantic. The main storyline is Jerry immediately falling for Dale and flirting with her until she falls for him, and then her attempting to suppress her feelings when she thinks he’s married to her best friend. But somehow, even watching it as a young teen who had no idea that I was aroace, this felt different from other romantic films I’d seen. I remember feeling irritated the first time I read a description of Fred and Ginger’s dancing as their version of making love because “ugh, why do people have to make everything about sex?” It took me a while to realize that not only is that an apt description, but it’s also part of what drew me to them in the first place. Because despite the way the terms “making love” and “being intimate” are now used almost exclusively as synonyms for “having sex,” they don’t necessarily have to be. There are other ways of experiencing and expressing love and intimacy besides sex. It’s just that our allonormative society puts sex on such a high pedestal and portrays it as the One True Form of Intimacy that all other forms are devalued to the point that often they feel barely worth mentioning. And I do feel like when some people talk about Fred and Ginger this way, what they’re implying is “Their dances were the Hays Code era version of sex scenes.” And, granted, it’s quite possible that that was the intent. But nothing about their dancing is inherently sexual, and yet, it would be hard to deny that it’s extremely intimate. So as someone who craves non-sexual intimacy, in a world where that concept almost seems oxymoronic, it’s so encouraging to see these characters express that. Of course, I don’t want exactly what they have – for one thing, I’m a terrible dancer, despite my one year of tap lessons in 2nd grade. And for another, what they have is way too romantic for me. But although I could never have articulated this at the time, just seeing this example of extreme intimacy coming in other, non-sexual forms as a young obliviously asexual person was so important. It gave me some armor against the onslaught of allo- and amatonormative messages implying that sexual relationships are inherently more valuable and valid than any other kind of relationship. Top Hat ends with the implication that Jerry and Dale are about to get married, so I guess we’re meant to infer that their relationship will eventually become sexual, but I don’t see how anyone could watch this movie and still think that a sexless marriage consisting of dance numbers like “Cheek to Cheek” would be any less valid than a sexual marriage. Like so many of my favorite movies, it’s not exactly ace representation, but it’s easy to imagine many of the characters in Top Hat as ace, and often that’s as good as it gets.

While the subtle and probably unintentional message that sex doesn’t have to be the end all be all is great, the main reason I love this movie is because it’s just a lot of fun to watch. I’ll be the first to admit that the plot is a little ridiculous and doesn’t make a ton of sense, but I also have to admire the lengths they go to in order to maintain the mistaken identity for so long. Like the part when the London hotel manager tells Dale that Horace Hardwick is the gentleman with the briefcase and cane on the mezzanine, and Horace steps behind a chandelier before Dale can see him, and while she’s trying to get closer, Jerry runs up to Horace and says that he has a phone call, and Horace hands Jerry his briefcase and cane and rushes off, so Dale will see Jerry alone holding a briefcase and cane and therefore still think he is Horace. Or when Horace just happens to be in the bathtub when Dale comes into their room in Italy. Or how Jerry tells Madge that he’s met Dale so she doesn’t think she needs to introduce him. It’s like simultaneously the most far-fetched, bizarre plot imaginable and also kind of brilliantly executed, and I love it for that. And even if the plot doesn’t work for you, this movie is still worth watching for its truly phenomenal dancing by one of the most iconic pairs in Hollywood history.

Thank you for listening to me discuss another of my most frequently rewatched films. When compiling this list, I was very surprised to discover that Fred Astaire would only appear in one film, since I consider him one of my faves, but I hope he would at least be happy to know that that one film is in my top five. Next week, I will be talking about another Old Hollywood musical that I watched two more times than Top Hat, for a total of 33 views, which stars a man who is often compared to Fred Astaire, although I feel like, apart from being dancers, they were very different. So stay tuned for that, and as always, I will leave you with a quote from that next movie: “I make more money than…than…than Calvin Coolidge! Put together!”

#top hat #fred astaire #ginger rogers #the rewatch rewind

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the-rewatch-rewind · 7 months

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Here we go again, we're changing the scene.

Script below the break.

Hello and welcome back to The Rewatch Rewind! My name is Jane and this is the podcast where I count down my top 40 most frequently rewatched movies in a 20-year period. Today I will be discussing number six on my list: Shipwrecked Comedy and American Black Market’s 2017 film noir parody The Case of the Gilded Lily, directed by William J. Stribling, written by Sean Persaud and Sinéad Persaud, and starring Sean Persaud, Sinéad Persaud, Sarah Grace Hart, and Mary Kate Wiles.

It's 1939 in Los Angeles. Hardboiled private eye Ford Phillips (Sean Persaud) doesn’t touch Hollywood cases, until junior ace reporter Fig Wineshine (Sinéad Persaud) convinces him to help her childhood friend, starlet Wilhelmina Vanderjetski (Sarah Grace Hart) find out who is blackmailing her.

In my episode about Edgar Allan Poe’s Murder Mystery Dinner Party, which was number 13 on this list, I discussed how I found and fell in love with the work of Shipwrecked Comedy. If you haven’t listened to or don’t remember that episode, to summarize, I had incredibly high expectations for Edgar Allan Poe’s Murder Mystery Dinner Party, aka Poe Party, that were exceeded in every possible way, and in joining this small but enthusiastic fandom, I finally felt that I had found my people. I was very excited to learn what Shipwrecked’s next project would be, and I didn’t have long to wait. On May 30, 2017, just under seven months after the Poe Party finale, they shared a teaser poster for The Case of the Gilded Lily, which showed silhouettes of the Core Four (Sarah Grace Hart, Sinéad Persaud, Sean Persaud, and Mary Kate Wiles) in a style consistent with film noir. Since one of my favorite things about Poe Party had been the way it reminded me of classic movies, I was ecstatic to see them leaning even more directly into Old Hollywood.

The Kickstarter campaign launched a week later. Unlike Poe Party, which was an 11-episode series, Gilded Lily would be a short film, and they were only asking for $25,000. It didn’t even occur to me to be disappointed that this was going to be so much smaller; I was just excited that Shipwrecked was making another project so soon. In some ways, this Kickstarter experience was similar to the Poe Party one – the fun livestreams with backers’ names on the wall, the character reveals when milestones were reached – but in others, it was very different. For one thing, I had by this point met Shipwrecked and gotten to know many of their other fans, so instead of interacting with a bunch of pleasant strangers, these livestreams felt more like hanging out with friends. And for another, they reached their goal in less than a week, whereas Poe Party had taken almost a month, so it felt a lot less stressful, at least from a will-this-get-to-exist? perspective. They set a few stretch goals and ended up raising just over $43,000 by the time the campaign ended on June 25. I pledged a bit more to this project than I had to Poe Party, partly because I felt like I owed them for how much Poe Party had already changed my life, but also of course because of how thrilled I was that they were making something else that was related to my interests.

The main reason they were making Gilded Lily right then was because they had been invited to premiere a new project at Buffer Festival in Toronto, where they had screened all of Poe Party the year before when only the first 9 episodes were up on YouTube. I would have loved to have gone, both to see Poe Party and to see Gilded Lily, but it didn’t work out. However, Kickstarter backers at the $25 level and up would get access to watch The Case of the Gilded Lily soon after Buffer, before it was posted publicly, and that was good enough for me. Buffer Festival was only about three months after the Kickstarter ended, so Shipwrecked had a ridiculously short period of time to complete this video that they had originally intended to be about 20 minutes long but ended up with a runtime nearly twice that. I still don’t understand how they did it. I know, from talking to members of Shipwrecked at the time and from behind-the-scenes content they’ve released, that they were incredibly stressed about things like finding and locking locations, a cast member having to drop out last minute, and, of course, the budget, but still, they managed it. They successfully premiered their 38-minute long “short” film at Buffer Festival 2017 and emailed a link to backers a couple weeks later, on October 12.

I had a lot of trouble setting my expectations for The Case of the Gilded Lily. This group had just made Poe Party, so I knew they were capable of greatness, but I also knew I had no right to expect this to be on the same level as that, since it was always intended to be a much smaller project. I was sure I was going to enjoy it, but I was very curious to see how much. The first thing that struck me after I clicked the early access link was the music. The soundtrack was composed by Dylan Glatthorn, who had also composed the Poe Party soundtrack, which I absolutely should have mentioned in that episode because it is incredible. But the Gilded Lily soundtrack is somehow even better. Shipwrecked had released a video of a song from the short called “A Change of Scene” in September, written by Glatthorn and performed by Mary Kate Wiles as lounge singer Vivian Nightingale (a name that had been mentioned in Poe Party), so I already knew that was a bop, but it didn’t prepare me for how hard the opening credits music would slap. The theme is so delightfully jazzy that even after nearly six years, I can’t sit still when I hear it. That music over the black and white shots of the Hollywoodland sign and palm trees was the perfect way to set the scene. And then the opening credits finished and the film itself began.

So here’s the thing about film noir. In general, I enjoy it: I think it’s a fascinating filmmaking style and a very effective technique to tell a certain type of story, and two of my other top 40 most frequently rewatched films – Notorious and Gaslight – are fairly noir-esque, but also, film noir can get very dark. Every November, along with many film lovers on the internet, I celebrate Noirvember, a time to watch and appreciate film noir. In 2015, I actually managed to watch 30 noirs in Noirvember, and by the end of the month I noticed that it was really getting to me. I was starting to feel a constant vague sense of unease, dread, and despair. So in every November since then I’ve forced myself to consume noirs somewhat more moderately. I must have known that Gilded Lily was going to be more of a parody and not like one of the darker noirs. The group was called Shipwrecked Comedy, after all. But even Poe Party had had some pretty dark moments. I’m sure I expected jokes in The Case of the Gilded Lily, but I was utterly floored by just how laugh-out-loud funny the whole darn film was. It wasn’t dark at all, at least compared to most noirs or even to Poe Party. There wasn’t even any murder! The first time I watched it, I must have missed at least half the jokes because I was still laughing at prior gags. The plot was just as complicated and twisty as most noirs, but that first time I was barely paying attention because, again, too much laughing. Therefore, once I finished it, I naturally had to immediately rewatch it several times to pick up on the jokes and plot points I’d missed, and I was delighted but not at all surprised to find that it held up very well. I don’t recall exactly how many times I’d seen it before the link was made public on December 11, but by the end of 2017 I’d watched it nine times. I then watched it four times in 2018, six times in 2019, five times in 2020, three times in 2021, and four times in 2022. And I still think the jokes are funny. So if you haven’t watched it, you absolutely should, it’s still available for free on YouTube (link in the show notes) and it’s like the length of one episode of a TV show.

There are so many different types of humor in this film, and all of them are great. There’s the whole playing with and making fun of noir tropes aspect, including several instances of characters interrupting each other’s voiceovers, a camera rotation into a Dutch angle causing Ford to fall over, and Wilhelmina trying to smoke and drink to fit in but not quite understanding the concept. That last one serves the dual purpose of making fun of the excessive smoking and drinking common in noirs and further developing one of my favorite types of character: the confidently clueless. The Case of the Gilded Lily has two of these: Wilhelmina Vanderjetski, the starlet who’s being blackmailed, played by Sarah Grace Hart, and Dash Gunfire, Ford’s rival private eye, played by Joey Richter. Wilhelmina’s cluelessness mostly makes her happy and charming, whereas Dash’s makes him frustrated and annoying, and it’s very entertaining to see two such similar yet very different characters in the same project. Basically everything either of them says or does makes me laugh. There’s also some great physical comedy, mainly from Clayton Farris as the disgruntled Buster Keaton. Similarly, there’s humor with the set and props, like when Cliff Calloway (played by Tom DeTrinis) switches between smoking a cigar and a cigarette in the same scene depending on who he’s talking to, and when Officer Claudette Knickerbocker (played by Joanna Sotomura) is talking to Ford on the phone about how hot she finds Cliff, and it cuts away to Ford putting down the phone and pouring himself a drink and when we see Claudette again her office is in complete disarray. And then there are all the hilarious running gags. Like how whenever someone brings up that Wilhelmina’s real name is Lily THomas, Ford has to argue that it should be pronounced Thomas. And how every time the scene changes after Vivian sings “A Change of Scene” the first time, there’s a little reprise of her singing about how we’re changing the scene. And the way Fig is obsessed with cookies and keeps getting them – I am truly in awe of Sinéad Persaud’s brilliance in writing a character for herself that required her to eat lots of cookies. What an iconic move. And then there’s the running bit where Ford will pause and stare into the distance dramatically before mentioning The War, much to Fig’s confusion, until it’s finally revealed that The War was a movie he and Claudette acted in when they were children. Another running bit is the bartender Bixby Crane (played by Dante Swain) repeatedly saying his own name unnecessarily, and taking things very literally in unexpected ways. This bit was particularly funny to me because my high school band director’s name was Parker Bixby, and when we marched in the Tournament of Roses parade, one of the announcers commented, “I want to change my name to Parker Bixby.” Later somebody put that on t-shirts and Mr. Bixby ended up with one. So seeing a character named Bixby who was obsessed with his own name made me laugh even harder than it would have if they’d picked any other name for that character.

Like in Poe Party, the actors in The Case of the Gilded Lily were encouraged to play around, at least as much as their limited production time would allow, which once again resulted in an excellent blooper reel, and also some great moments in the film. One of the best is when Wilhelmina’s husband, producer Roger Haircremé, played by Gabe Greenspan, comes into the lobby from the Sufferin’ Safari premiere and says, “Sweetheart, it’s nearly giraffe time!” which was improvised. Also, major shout out to the Persauds for their incredible character names, and also to Gabe Greenspan, who filled in last minute when the original Roger had to drop out of the project. It’s kind of mind boggling that this was the first time Gabe worked with Shipwrecked and that he almost wasn’t even in this, since it’s hard to imagine their more recent projects without him. Another unscripted moment that I love is when Vivian is telling Fig about an underground gambling ring and says that they meet on Wednesday nights, adding, “Tonight. And next Wednesday. And the Wednesday after that…” That last part wasn’t in the script, but they brought it back again when Fig passes this information on to Claudette, saying, “Vivian only knew they meet tonight. And then next week. And the week after that. Basically, it’s a weekly thing.” And Joanna, not really knowing how to respond to that, just had Claudette go, “Oh, okay” and move on with her lines, and for some reason that just really tickles me.

I think the thing I appreciated the most about The Case of the Gilded Lily, once I stopped laughing long enough to analyze it, was that it felt like a typical Shipwrecked project while also feeling completely different from what they’d done before. The sense of humor felt the same as Poe Party, even though the Gilded Lily gags tended to be on the sillier side. The story was just as well thought out as Poe Party’s, but while Poe Party was being released I was constantly trying to figure out who the murderer was, whereas with Gilded Lily I didn’t even attempt to guess who the blackmailer was, I was too busy laughing. Also, being a short film rather than a series released over 11 weeks, there was much less time for speculation. Of course, the overlapping cast made the projects feel similar, and I particularly enjoyed seeing Ryan W. Garcia, who had played Eddie in Poe Party, show up as an extra in about half the Gilded Lily scenes. This ultimately inspired me to write a rather long and intense fan fiction tying a bunch of Shipwrecked projects together with the time traveling ghost of Eddie. Tom DeTrinis’s Cliff Calloway seemed about what you’d expect if Oscar Wilde was trying to pretend to be a straight film star. Joey Richter’s Dash Gunfire was similar to his Ernest Hemingway in that both were rivals with Sean’s character, although Dash is way sillier.

And then there’s the Core Four. Sean and Sinéad’s characters and dynamic were very similar in A Tell-Tale Vlog, Poe Party, and Gilded Lily: both Poe and Ford are loners who secretly desire friends, and both Lenore and Fig are outgoing and talkative and enjoy winding up Sean’s character, who begrudgingly appreciates them despite his best efforts to abhor them. But of course, they are unquestionably different characters, and I think they both did an excellent job of adjusting their mannerisms to make them feel distinct. Mary Kate and Sarah’s characters, on the other hand, are essentially the complete opposite of what they played in Poe Party. Annabel was sweet and naïve and wanted everyone to be happy, whereas Vivian is bitter and jaded and having affairs with four different men in five different states (another great line) and doesn’t seem to care about anyone besides herself. Going straight from an ingenue to a femme fatale and absolutely nailing both was an excellent way for Mary Kate Wiles to demonstrate her incredible acting range. I’d already been a huge fan of her work for over five years at that point, and I was still blown away. Vivian doesn’t even get that much screentime, but gah, what MK does with her voice, like, just, close your eyes and listen to Annabel and then listen to Vivian, you can’t even tell they’re the same person. I feel like this also helps distinguish Edgar and Ford from each other. It’s a running theme in most Shipwrecked projects that Sean’s character is super into Mary Kate’s character, although they rarely end up together, and I can’t really explain why, but I don’t feel like Poe would be particularly into Vivian, nor would Ford be interested in Annabel. But I could be wrong about that, I don’t really understand how sexual or romantic attraction works. Anyway, all that being said, if I had to pick one single favorite aspect of The Case of the Gilded Lily, it would have to be Sarah Grace Hart as Wilhelmina Vanderjetski, mostly because she is absolutely hilarious, but also because she is so different from Emily Dickinson in Poe Party. Emily is forgotten by everyone the second after she introduces herself, whereas Wilhelmina is one of the most famous stars in Hollywood. Emily seems to know what’s going on, and I have a theory that she could have figured out the whole thing if people would have just listened to her, whereas Wilhelmina, bless her, is paying blackmail while also telling everyone what she’s being blackmailed for. Also it’s literally just… having a stage name. Not really something worth paying $20,000 per week to keep secret, especially if you’re just going to tell everyone anyway. But Sarah commits to this character so hard that you never once doubt that Willie would absolutely fall prey to this ridiculous scheme. She’s so earnestly oblivious in the most endearing and hilarious way that she’s probably my favorite Shipwrecked character, and possibly my favorite character in anything ever.

What I didn’t know at the time was that originally, Shipwrecked had planned to follow Poe Party with a whole series featuring these characters, but when they got invited to Buffer they knew they wouldn’t have time for all that, so they made The Case of the Gilded Lily as kind of a pilot for the Fig and Ford series. They did make it clear that they had at least some intentions of continuing the story, with a question mark appearing after “The End” and a quick post-credits scene with Vivian bursting into Fig and Ford’s office and saying, “Mr. Phillips, something terrible has happened!” After years with no word of what this could be leading to, I had almost given up hope of more from this world, and then, in 2022, Shipwrecked launched a Kickstarter for an audio narrative called The Case of the Greater Gatsby, currently coming out weekly on all major podcast platforms, and we’re finally getting more, and it is so delightful. Once again, I don’t feel like I’m doing a very good job of trying to figure out what’s going on, but I am living for the jokes.

Classic film noir tended to be relatively sexually explicit for its time – at least, as much as it was allowed to be under production codes. In particular, the male protagonist was often led astray by his attraction to the sexy but dangerous femme fatale. The Persauds had said that they were inspired by Who Framed Roger Rabbit, another noir parody, which turns these sexy expectations around with a femme fatale type character who is, if not overtly asexual, certainly ace-coded – she’s married to a rabbit, and when asked what the attraction is, she says, and I quote, “He makes me laugh.” The Case of the Gilded Lily finds a different way to put a twist on the femme fatale trope with Vivian Nightingale, who is certainly not ace-coded, but also doesn’t seem to be particularly dangerous – at least in the Gilded Lily plot, I don’t know where Greater Gatsby is going yet. Vivian is a possible suspect, and Ford is very attracted to her, but she’s innocent and nothing bad really comes of her involvement in this story. She has an attitude of, “I have no clue how I got mixed up with you clowns, but I’ll be fabulous while I’m here" that you have to admire. Really the only romance in The Case of the Gilded Lily is the one between Wilhelmina Vanderjetski and Roger Haircremé, and that one is… questionable, to put it mildly. For one thing, Willie lied to Roger about her background to get him to marry her. For another, Roger saw through her ridiculous story but pretended not to, instead blackmailing her to pay off his gambling debts. When Fig and Ford uncover this, instead of being furious with her husband, Wilhelmina is delighted that the blackmailer was just her kind, loving husband who’d never do anything to hurt her. Typically I’m very much in favor of forgiveness, but in this case I really don’t think Roger deserves it. In a way, this could be seen as illustrating the harms of amatonormativity, showing that Wilhelmina thinks staying with a blackmailer is preferable to having no husband, but it definitely comes across as her genuinely believing that Roger has done nothing wrong. It’s weird, but I love the way this shifts the noir trope of sexy-romance-gone-wrong to be about a couple who was married at the start and has no intention of getting divorced at the end, and involves a woman who bears zero resemblance to a typical femme fatale.

Like pretty much every other Shipwrecked project (besides Kissing in the Rain), The Case of the Gilded Lily is way more focused on platonic relationships than romantic or sexual ones. Even though the crime is related to Roger and Wilhelmina’s relationship, it’s solved mainly because of Fig’s friendship with Wilhelmina, Fig’s attempts to befriend Ford, and Ford’s friendship with Claudette. I didn’t know I was aroace when this came out, but I certainly appreciated all the non-romantic storylines. And I would argue that Gilded Lily does have at least one ace-coded character, although it’s not the one who reminds us of Jessica Rabbit: it’s Fig Wineshine. She wants to be friends with everyone but doesn’t show any signs of attraction to any of them. And she has this great line in Greater Gatsby when she’s describing how Cliff Calloway is a Hollywood heartthrob: “He didn't really do it for me. But then again he wasn't circular with crispy edges and a gooey middle.” She’s saying that her type is a literal cookie. There’s no allosexual explanation for that.

My main takeaway from The Case of the Gilded Lily back in 2017 was that Poe Party was not a fluke. I had truly stumbled upon an underappreciated group of talented, hardworking geniuses when I found Shipwrecked Comedy, and I was going to keep following and supporting their work from then on no matter what. And I have never regretted doing that for a second. Most of the projects they’ve made in the years since The Case of the Gilded Lily have been too short to count as movies, but they have all been incredibly delightful. I would highly recommend everything on their YouTube channel, in addition to the Greater Gatsby podcast they’re currently releasing, especially if you enjoy Old Hollywood; I am thoroughly enjoying all the references to actual movies and actors that I love by the fictional characters from the world of Fig and Ford that I also love. Shipwrecked keeps telling the exact stories I want to see and hear, and I cannot even begin to adequately express how much joy they have brought to my life. I truly hope everyone out there has found or will find a group of artists whose work means as much to them as Shipwrecked’s does to me.

Thank you for listening to me discuss another of my most frequently rewatched movies. Next week I will enter my top 5 with the oldest movie on this list, which I also watched 31 times. As always, I will leave you with a quote from that next movie: “Always remember that the truth has never hurt any man! …And anyway, if it does, I’ll go to the hospital with you.”

#the case of the gilded lily #fig and ford #shipwrecked comedy #the rewatch rewind #please watch this short

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the-rewatch-rewind · 7 months

Text

My final guest episode, with not one but two very special guests!

Transcript below the break

Jane

Hello and welcome back to The Rewatch Rewind! My name is Jane and this is the podcast where I count down my top 40 most frequently rewatched movies in a 20-year period. Today I will be discussing number 7 on my list: Disney’s 2001 comedy The Princess Diaries, directed by Garry Marshall, written by Gina Wendkos based on a book by Meg Cabot, and starring Anne Hathaway and Julie Andrews.

Mia Thermopolis (Anne Hathaway) is a shy and unpopular 15-year-old just trying to survive high school, when the grandmother she’s never met, Clarisse Renaldi (Julie Andrews), shows up and reveals that she is the queen of a small European country called Genovia. Since Mia’s father, whom she also never met, has recently died and had no other children, Mia is now first in line for the throne. While she’s still deciding whether to accept this job, Mia receives princess lessons and a makeover, and has to deal with how these changes affect her relationships, especially with her best friend Lilly Moscovitz (Heather Matarazzo) and Lilly’s brother Michael (Robert Schwartzman).

This movie is so fun and iconic that I felt like I needed two special guests to talk about it with me, so in a few moments I will be joined by my sister Rosemary, whom you may remember from the Newsies episode, and my friend Sophie, whom you may remember from the Enchanted episode. But first, the breakdown of when I watched this movie after I started keeping track: three times in 2003, three times in 2004, five times in 2005, twice in 2006, twice in 2007, twice in 2008, once in 2009, once in 2010, once in 2012, twice in 2013, once in 2015, once in each year from 2017 through 2020, twice in 2021, and once in 2022. Yes, I watched this movie 30 times in 20 years, and I would do it again. So let’s talk about it!

Hello, Sophie and Rosemary.

Sophie

Hi!

Rosemary

Hello.

Jane

Welcome back to both of you.

Sophie

Thank you. Happy to be back.

Rosemary

Thanks for having me back.

Jane

I'm so glad to have you both here, even though you've never met each other before, but I know that you both love this movie, as do I. So I'm very excited to talk about Princess Diaries. I think we can start with how we got introduced to this movie, if we remember. I know that Rosemary saw it in theaters and I did not.

Sophie

That's too bad. Rosemary, you want to go first?

Rosemary

Sure! Um, I don't remember exactly all of the circumstances. I do remember going to see it in theaters with my mom and it was really good. We really enjoyed it. And we're like, Jane will love this, and really liked the line, “Goodbye trolley people!” That really tickled us. And then I do remember around the same time, the local like, bookstore and newspaper, I think, put on this contest where someone could, like, write an essay about why they should be like princess for the day or something. And one of my best friends at the time was like the winner of it.

Sophie

Wow.

Rosemary

So that was when I like, realized that, oh, these are actually books too, and then got really into the books around the same time as well.

Sophie

That's so cool.

Rosemary

So those are my like, early memories of Princess Diaries.

Sophie

Yeah, I actually can't remember if I got into the books or the movie first. Probably the movie, but I would say my trajectory was really similar. Like if I saw the movie first, then I read the books immediately after. And I probably saw like a trailer for the movie on Disney Channel or whatever because I… I do distinctly remember, like they did this thing where like they would if if the movie or show or whatever had a song, they would do, like a music video of whatever the big song was in the movie, and show that as like a commercial for whatever it was. And then in this case, because they're, I mean, there was Miracles Happen and they probably did a music video of that. But they also did, they would show like a scene from whatever it was like, sneak peek into our latest whatever. And so they did the the tea scene at the consulate where the “Gosh, Gee whiz, golly-wolly” exchange happens. And so of course, like me and all my other little 6-year-old friends were saying “shut up” to each other and thought that was the peak of hilarity, which I'm sure our parents were thrilled with. So that was, that was definitely a big, a big scene for us.

Rosemary

And then I also remember like, early on, like shortly after it came out on VHS or whatever, for Jane's birthday, her like birthday party was like… I remember our family, but I don't know who else was there, and we all just, like, gathered in the living room on the pull out couch with the like, little like 12 inch VHS player. And we all like gathered around it and watched Princess Diaries.

Sophie

That's so fun.

Rosemary

And that was like your 12th birthday party or something.

Jane

Yeah. Yeah. No, I I was trying to- cause I definitely remember you and mom going to see it and and coming back and being like, “There was this really funny ‘goodbye trolley people’ scene!” And I was like, what does that even mean? [laughs] But I don't remember like I assumed that I'd seen it before that birthday party, because otherwise why would I have asked to watch it for my birthday?

Sophie

Yeah.

Jane

I didn't see it in theaters, but maybe we had rented it or something before that. But I definitely remember that because I we watched it for my birthday party and then since we had rented it, we had it for a few more days and I watched it like multiple times all of the days that we had it because it was also like my birthday was during spring break. And that was only like a couple of months after our aunt died. So it was like a weird time and I was like, kind of sad during that time. But like that week, I just remember like, watching this movie over and over and just being like, “I love this so much! This is the thing that makes me happy!” But I wasn't keeping track of movies yet because that was 2002 and so I'm like, OK, well, if I if I'd started a year earlier, then this movie would have so many more watches.

Sophie

Yeah.

Jane

Because as it is, I've watched it 30 times in in the 20 years that I counted. But I don't remember how many times I had watched it before, but I definitely was just, like, so in love with it. I'm not exactly sure what it was about this movie that I was so excited about when I first started watching it.

Rosemary

Well, it's very… it's a very comforting movie.

Sophie

Mm-hmm.

Jane

Yeah.

Rosemary

Like, it feels very like warm and like a hug.

Sophie

Yeah. I do… like, I always worry with the movies that I feel that way about. Like, is it nostalgia or is it really a good movie? I think this one airs on the side of it's really a just a good movie.

Jane

Yeah, yeah, definitely. I I would agree. I just I every time I watch it, I'm just like, this is just so nice.

Sophie

Yeah.

Jane

It's, it there's, I mean there's conflict and there's like a few uncomfortable moments. But overall it's just like a nice story.

Sophie

Yeah.

Rosemary

And it has a good it's a good tone between silly, goofy and also like very sweet and sincere, and like it never feels like overreaching in the, like emotional moments that it hits.

Sophie

Yeah.

Rosemary

Like it all feels very like genuine and earned and like realistic.

Sophie

Yeah, for like for finding out that you're a Princess when you're 15. It's a really realistic movie.

Rosemary

Well, yes. Is it based on a true story?

Sophie

But no but I get what you're saying. Like the premise is absurd and at the same time it's very grounded in reality. And I I appreciate that, like, the characters seem to be genuine, like good hearted people. I love that people apologize when they do the wrong thing. Like, and Jane and I were talking before we started recording about the some of the changes between the book and the movie. And I think making Clarisse a nice person is one of the things that this movie does really well. Because book Clarisse would never have apologized to Mia for making her feel bad or, like, not listening to her. And then you get Julie Andrews, who's like, “I'm really sorry that I judged before I, you know, heard your side of the story.”

Jane

One of my favorite stories about this movie coming to be is that when they were talking to Meg Cabot about how they were going to adapt it, somebody was telling her, like, “We're thinking about, like, killing off the dad and expanding the grandmother’s role.” Because because the dad is alive in the books. And like, “We have someone, like a really big star in mind to play the grandmother and we think like, we should expand her role and get rid of the dad.” And Meg Cabot was like, “Well, who… who you were thinking?” and they said “Julie Andrews,” and she immediately went, “Kill the dad.”

[all laugh]

Rosemary

Yeah.

Jane

And Julie Andrews… this was an interesting point in her career because she had recently undergone surgery that caused her to lose a lot of her singing voice. Like that was in the mid 90s. And so she was kind of. In retirement to a certain degree, like she wasn't really sure what the rest of her career might look like. And this was also her first Disney movie since Mary Poppins.

Sophie

Wow.

Jane

And it's just so cool to see her sort of mentoring Anne Hathaway, who is making her feature film debut in a big Disney movie, which is exactly what Julie Andrews had done with Mary Poppins. And first of all, just… hard to believe that this is Anne Hathaway's first movie because she's so… she carries the movie so well, like I do think that's a big part of why you get that grounded feel is like she brings such a like realistic sense to the role of Mia. And I just think she was perfectly cast. And I also just think it's so fun that she's kind of following in the footsteps of Julie Andrews. I mean, obviously her career has looked very different overall, but it's kind of fun that they both have the same introduction to movies.

Sophie

Yeah.

Rosemary

That is really interesting that Julie Andrews didn't do more Disney movies after Mary Poppins.

Jane

Yeah, right? Cause you think, she's such a Disney icon.

Rosemary

Yeah, you would think that like they would be really fighting for her to have roles and stuff.

Sophie

Keep her in. Keep her in the family, in the fold.

Jane

Yeah, that was that was something that I hadn't, I wasn't really aware of until relatively recently. I was looking at more facts about this movie, and I was like, wait really? It's just very interesting. I'm not really sure how that conversation went, of like convincing her to do this movie if she was, like, really excited about it, or if she needed some persuasion. But I'm really glad she did because like, I'm sure I had seen Mary Poppins and Sound of Music multiple times before Princess Diaries came out. But, like, that's really what made me become a Julie Andrews fan is seeing her just totally kill it in this role.

Sophie

Yeah, I think Mary Poppins probably was my first, but this is the first that I like, really remember of her.

Jane

Yeah. So the two of them, I mean, everybody in this movie is great, but I love the dynamic between the two of them and like the whole scene when they're like at the arcade together is really nice, and and just like seeing their characters relationship transformed throughout the movie is great. And I… just thinking about like, yes, this is a romantic story and like there's some focus on her and Michael, but there's so many other relationships that are really important and really focused on in this movie and like, Mia and her grandmother, Mia and her mother, Mia and Lilly. Like there's friendships and family relationships, and it's like, and there's a romance, too. But it's kind of like, that's not really what the majority of the movie is focused on, which I think has always resonated with me.

Sophie

Yeah, I would definitely agree that although the Josh versus Michael conflict is a really big one, it is a romantic conflict and yet it's not like… it's not romantic. It's just, like, kind of an allegory for Mia trying to, in much the same way that to be a Princess or not to be a Princess is like her growing up and developing. Like maybe the things that I thought I wanted aren't the things that are going to make me the happiest. And I do sort of like in the book that she's always had this kind of pining crush for Michael, I think that's very sweet, but it's nice that Josh serves as like a, this, you know, this is what I've thought I've been working towards this whole time and then it turns out it actually is really horrible and I don't like it. And I would rather do something else. I think it serves the same sort of purpose that she's like, growing up and becoming more like sure of herself and confident.

Rosemary

Yeah, I think things that I've always liked about the movie, like the romantic teen sort of aspects of it, is that it feels more realistic to what people actually go through in their high school years than a lot of teen movies. Where they're like, “Oh, this is my true love. I'm going to marry them. I'm gonna…” you know, whereas like Mia has this crush on this guy and like, she gets all giggly and flustered when she's around him and she's not smooth and neither really is he. But, you know…

Jane

He thinks he is, though.

Rosemary

He thinks he is and and I feel like that's very like, sweetly portrayed. And like a very innocent like teen romance feel. But I think a lot of teen movies, they rush into being way too adult and like heavy feeling, but I've always, I've always really liked that Mia doesn't… she doesn't... Josh doesn't notice her because really, any other reason other than because she's a Princess. She doesn't have smooth pick-up lines. She's not like, cool and confident. There's not really any focus on, “Oh she's like, really sexy. So he’s, of course he notices her.” It's really just because he wants to be… have some fame. And then like this guy that's like her best friend's brother, like, I feel like that's stuff that happens to people, you know? It's like you're around these people for your whole growing up years and you're like, “Well, I have feelings. I don't know what these are. But maybe I'm in love with you. But maybe I just…” you know, trying to figure things out. And like she wants to get her first kiss. And it just feels so sweet and innocent in a way that I think a lot of teen movies really miss that point and are really like thrown into like much bigger, like, “I'm desperately in love with you” or “I want to sleep with you” or things like that. And this movie really like, keeps it, like at least more of what my experience as a teenager was where it was like, “Oh, I have a crush on this person. I'm awkward, and then we move on or we hope they notice us. But then when they do, I don't know what to do and…” So that aspect of, it does have that romantic story, but it definitely feels like, yes, these are teenagers who are, like, feeling things for the first time. And what does that mean, and what does that look like?

Sophie

Right. It's very sweet and innocent. She's like, very concerned with if her foot's gonna pop or not. Like she's not…. there's no like, you were saying, it's not like desperate. She's not like, this is, you know, “My my parents say I can't be with this person. And so therefore I have to have them, and we have to run off and get married and then he's going to turn me into a vampire” or whatever. And she wants to be kissed and she wants to have this little like old movie moment. And then she does get that and it's… But it's… with Michael it also is a little bit of maturity. Like, “I don't like him because he's, you know, cute or popular or he has a boat or whatever” it's, you know, “You… you noticed me. You saw the real me and you like me anyway.”

Rosemary

“You saw me when I was invisible.”

Sophie

Tears. And then all the lights turn on and the fountains come on and we’re in the garden with the roses and yeah, so.

Jane

Yeah, that's it's interesting because so much of the movie feels so like relatively realistic given the premise. And then that moment, it does kind of seem a little bit fairy tale-ish. But it's also explained because multiple times throughout the movie, The Queen is talking about how she needs the gardens to be fancier.

Sophie

“Make me an Eden.”

Jane

Yeah, exactly. So they're like working on the gardens the whole time. And so like that kind of that pays off in that moment, too. And it's like, it's not just this came out of nowhere. It's like, this is what the garden needed to be beautiful for!

Rosemary

And I love that we keep going back to, “Yeah, this movie is realistic. The story is realistic” because, OK, first of all, she finds out she's a Princess for the first time when she's 15. And Josh, who's, like a 15/16 year old, has a boating license? And his own boat?

Sophie

[laughing] Yeah.

Rosemary

But otherwise it's it's realistic.

Sophie

They go to this high school that can rent out an entire private beach with a DJ and catering. What even is this party? They’re… Josh is on his boat. The the girls are doing their like studio sound system concert. There's like random food with whole watermelons, for some reason. They do like a close up shot on this kids plate, and he's got half a watermelon filled with grapes like, what are you doing? Who provided this? Who is this for?

Jane

And in a deleted scene they did a banana dance.

Sophie

Right. Yeah.

Jane

But I mean, I guess part of it is explained like, that it is a really fancy rich school because, like, it seems like her royal family members were paying for it, which she seemed to be somewhat unaware of.

Sophie

In lieu of having a relationship, I'll just like send my child to private school and buy a Faberge carousel for her bedroom.

Jane

Yeah, because of course.

Sophie

I did really want that though as a child. The little music box thing. And the diary that opens with the locket. That was the coolest.

Jane

That is really cool. I also think it's funny though, because like the books like the whole conceit of the books is that they are her Diaries, like she's writing them, and in the movie she doesn't even get the diary until the end.

Sophie

Yeah.

Rosemary

Well, you know, but OK, so books that are turned into movies. Generally, I'm like, the book is better. Why do we even have the movie? The movie tried, but it didn't do anything. And I feel very differently about this. I…love Princess Diaries as a movie and I love the book series and they are two very different things.

Sophie

Completely separate entities.

Rosemary

Yeah. And also all I want in the world is like a miniseries that takes place in the early 2000s in New York, where the books take place and shows these teenagers in the early 2000s, actually doing what the books are and like, have it be really good. And I would pay a lot of money to see that. So whatever major streaming service is listening to this, I would love that and to have actually have the main grandma and the dad who's alive and justice for Tina Hakim Baba.

Sophie

God bless!

Rosemary

Because we love her and she needs her moment.

Sophie

She sure does.

Rosemary

So I would love that.

Sophie

Yeah. Well, I I volunteer to to write it. I I I will be in the writers’ room once the strike is over, but with the caveat that it can't be gritty. Like they can't, it can't be dark. There can't be, like, you know, we're all really depressed and sneaking around and like, it has to be as like sweet, but a little more aged up than what the movie was.

Rosemary

Yes.

Jane

Yeah, cause I do definitely feel like the movie is for a younger audience than the books.

Rosemary

Mm-hmm.

Sophie

Yeah, which is weird because I'm sure that I started reading them when I was like 7 years old and she's talking about, like, getting her period at the Moscovitz's house and like wanting to make out with someone at Lilly's bat mitzvah. And I was like, what is what is this?

Rosemary

And then there's that, like, weird stalker man that like is stalking Lilly and wants to see her feet, and…

Sophie

Yeah.

Rosemary

But like, I loved that series so much. Reading those books like, really got me into, like, YA realistic fiction? Realistic. We're going with that again.

[Jane and Sophie laugh]

Rosemary

But like I was obsessed with, like, YA books all through, like middle and high school. And I think it really did start with Princess Diaries. And I was always, like, so excited when a new one came out and would like just devour it. Like even like last year when the…or earlier this year? I don't know. When Quarantine Princess came out, I was like, We have a new one. We still need more of this story.

Jane

How many books are there now? I mean, I guess there's some that aren't, like technically part of that series and…

Rosemary

Yeah. So there's ten that encapsulate her, like high school years, and then there's like a few extra ones that go in there that are like little short ones. And then there's the one I think it's like her wedding, maybe? Yes, that one came out, I think maybe in, like, 2015-ish. And then there's Quarantine Princess, which came out like in blog format in 2020 and then got like compiled and more things added to it and came out like within the last year. So Mia is still around. She survived COVID.

Jane

And there's the spin off ones about her half-sister, right?

Rosemary

Yes. Yeah. So then… I think around the same time that that the one that came out in 2015 that I can't remember the name at this moment, Meg Cabot also made like a middle grade series that there's a younger half-sister that came into the picture. And so she has her diaries as well. So there's like, supplemental content there. And I I read the first one. And it was very sweet and good, but I don't think I read any of the other ones.

Sophie

I just found out about that. So that's all new to me, but I did... I did love the little like Princess Diaries and a half, much like The Lion King 1 1/2 I think is the best Lion King. I think some of the Princess Diaries and 1/2 are my favorites. I think the only one that I actually had was the one where she and Michael do Habitat for Humanity together.

Rosemary

Yeah, I was gonna say, I was like, isn't there one where they, like, build houses together or something?

Sophie

Yeah.

Rosemary

Yes. And then there's like a Christmas one too, I think.

Sophie

OK. And then that's probably why I didn't have that one.

Jane

Being Jewish.

Sophie

Yeah because they needed like Lilly’s Hanukkah or whatever. And then I also had, I don't know if you know about these, there's one like companion book written I think by Clarisse. And then there's one written by Paolo and they're like… It's essentially The Care and Keeping of You, but the care and keeping of a princess?

Rosemary

Mm-hmm.

Sophie

And so Clarisse's one is like etiquette. All these etiquette rules for like dining at a fancy party. And then Paolo’s is like, how to, you know, do hair and makeup and stuff. And I love those.

Rosemary

Yeah, I remember reading those too. Is that when they talk about the cousin Sebastiano that like, doesn't finish his words and then he's like, “Please pass the butt.”

Sophie

[laughing] Probably.

Jane

I remember that character.

Sophie

Don't be like him and say “Pass the butt” at dinner, especially when meeting with heads of state.

Rosemary

So there's a lot of Princess Diaries content is what… what we can sum up this conversation with.

Jane

Definitely.

Rosemary

And all of it is good.

Sophie

Yeah.

Jane

I feel like, I mean, I know you were, like, way more into the books than I was.

Rosemary

Mm-hmm.

Jane

But I I feel like we read some of them together.

Rosemary

I’m sure we did.

Jane

Like you'd already read them. But like, we used to read stuff out loud to each other a lot. So I think that that was one of the things, at least… cause I remember really liking the third book, and now I'm like, I have no idea what even happens in the third book.

Rosemary

The third book is the best. It’s really good.

Sophie

If that's the one with the non-denominational winter formal, that's I totally agree.

Rosemary

And that's when Michael makes a computer program to tell her that he loves her.

Jane

Oh yeah, okay.

Rosemary

I would read that little section like over and over and over again, and I would be like, if only someone would love me enough to make a computer program that says-

Sophie

Aww, to code for you.

Rosemary

Yeah, and it says, like, “I love Princess Mia.” And then she, like, gets up and runs away because she's like, all embarrassed. And then she's like, later they talk and she's like, “I thought you were making fun of me,” and he's like, “Never.”

Sophie

Aww, what a sweetie. I I love Michael.

Rosemary

I love Michael too.

Sophie

I think casting for him was great. He's so freaking weird in the movie and I love it in the scene where he's he's like still kind of mad at Mia and he comes over to the house. And she, like, gives him the last check for the car. He puts in it between his teeth as he walks out of the door.

Jane

Yeah, for no reason.

Sophie

He has nothing in his hands. What is wrong with him? I love him.

Rosemary

But he's also really weird in the books too.

Jane

Yeah, yeah, it worked.

Rosemary

“He fixes cars, he plays guitar,”

Rosemary and Sophie

“and he can sing. He is so hot.”

Jane

“He is wicked sweet.” I think the person who said “he is wicked sweet” is the infamous cousin Meredith, who was Anne Hathaway's like… I don't know if she was technically her guardian. She was only a few years older than her. But like, I think that Anne Hathaway was still 17 when they started filming. But she was… she turned 18 during filming and that was… helpful to the filmmakers, because then she could work longer. But she was such a baby!

Sophie

I know. Oh, she's so cute.

Rosemary

No, I've always loved Michael. I think he's a great character. He's a great person. He invented a robotic surgical arm in the books that, like, does heart surgery.

Sophie

Yeah, he's- I mean, he was… He's great. I… like I also I really get it as like someone who had – had? has - an older brother who, like all my friends were like, “Wow your brother's actually kind of hot.” And I'm over here, like Lilly, being like, what are you talking about? Are you blind? Because I live with the guy. But yeah, I definitely related to their to their family, as like neurotic Jews, just hanging out.

Jane

I think it's really funny how, like the moment at when they're like about to dance and at the ball at the end and and Mia doesn't know if Michael's going to show up or not and then he comes in. He like comes through the crowd and he passes Lilly and he like tickles her or something. It's like they have a weird little sibling moment there before he goes to dance with Mia and it's just like-

Rosemary

I knew you were gonna bring that up because I think of it every time, Jane’s just like, “It's so weird when he tickles her stomach!”

Jane

It is weird, but it's it's like, a good kind of weird. Of like like I think that too often, again going back to the whole like, romance versus other relationships thing. I think that that too often in romantic stories, it's like, they kind of forget about how everybody, how they're connected to everybody else once the like two get together. And I think that it's nice that their friends are there too. Like that, that Lilly and Jeremiah are also there and like it's showing that that it's like they're all connected and it's not just this. And that like Lilly is really the one who pushes Mia to to realize what being a princess could mean and how that could be a good thing and like a responsibility.

Sophie

Yeah. And I I also, I would agree with you, Jane, that it's weird. I think it's, maybe not on purpose, but like that is a very like, at least in my experience like my brother would do that too, and it would be very awkward, but he would like mean it in a loving way.

Jane

Right.

Sophie

He just doesn't know what else to do.

Jane

Yeah. No. And I I think that's great. I mean it's it's weird but, like, I I love that I love all the little weird things that happen. That's a big part of why I love this movie. There's so many weird little moments that you just kind of like, why is that there? But also I love it. I mean, just the whole thing with like when she breaks the statue, and puts the-

Rosemary

“Maybe it's string cheese.”

Jane

Yeah, exactly! She puts the finger in the mouth of the statue and and that scene is really funny too. I love when she breaks it and she immediately like shushes the statue. Like, “Don't tell anyone that I broke you.” And then like, she just sticks it in there and it's just like kind of a throwaway thing. And then it comes back in the best way. “They're famous for their cheese. Maybe it's string cheese,” and it's just, ah, it's so good. But like that, that serves no purpose, but it's hilarious.

Rosemary

Also, how did she break that statue? Like isn't it made out of like marble? Like…

Sophie

Right.

Rosemary

That she would just like touch it and it would break? Like what? What is that statue made out of?

Jane

That was an untapped part of the story that she also has super strength. But just like nobody- that's why she always falls down and stuff like she does. She can't really control her own strength.

Sophie

Yeah, gravity is too strong.

Rosemary

They would be like, “We can't put that in there because then it would not be realistic.”

Jane

[laughs] But we'll have hints for it anyway. Ah man.

Sophie

Yeah, and and that her first idea is to reattach it with saliva. Like, that's good work.

Jane

[laughing] Uh, I love it. I love it so much. Just like fun moments like that is really, I think what makes it such an enjoyable movie, because like just, there's stuff that still makes me laugh when I've seen it more than 30 times.

Sophie

Yeah.

Jane

Just like…

Rosemary

“Please don't crush my soy nuts.”

Jane

“Your soy nuts are safe.” Ohh man. Yeah, just so many great moments. And I mean, I do enjoy the movie Princess Diaries 2, but it just like has nothing to do with anything. I feel like it's so weird that they just like went ahead and made it even though the guy who played Michael couldn't be in it and they’re just like, “Well, Michael's not important anymore.”

Sophie

Yeah.

Rosemary

The fact that they made them break- “Oh, we're still friends, but we're broken up. And now I'm going to like, go fall in love with someone else.” That is not Mia Thermopolis. She is obsessed with Michael. She's in love with Michael. I don't care. Book, movie, whatever. It's fine. Princess Diaries 2 is fine as a movie, but it's a totally different universe. One where Raven is randomly there. And there's mattress surfing.

Sophie

A an African Princess.

Rosemary

Yeah. It’s just-

Sophie

Like, get someone from Africa! I mean, she's American.

Jane

Like, is she an African prin-? Like it's we don't know who she is, she's not explained. It's just like she shows up and and Mia’s like, “Oh it’s you!”

Sophie

“It’s my best friend!”

Jane

And it's like, who is this? We've never seen her before. Please introduce her to the audience!

Sophie

I do. I do wonder if at the end of the first movie they like on the plane to Genovia they enter some sort of like slipstream wormhole situation and just like land in another universe. And that's why everything is crazy in the second movie.

Jane

The castle that they see out the airplane window is completely different in the second movie.

Sophie

I do love it, in like a very campy removed from book and first movie reality way. But yeah it's it's not like… It's not the first one.

Jane

No, and it has a terrible script, like so many of the lines are so forced, and it's like, man, these actors were working really hard to sell this.

Sophie

Yeah.

Jane

Like, certain certain moments just, like, don't work at all. There are funny lines in the second one, but I just think the the first one… And I know that like a lot of the script of this movie was changed by Garry Marshall like while they were filming it. They talked about that in - oh, I should mention the commentary, because, while this commentary is not quite as iconic as Ella Enchanted I do… I have seen this a lot of times with the commentary with Julie Andrews and Anne Hathaway having tea and Julie Andrews mostly just wants to talk about the tea, like the literal tea, not like spilling the metaphorical tea of the movie. She's just very excited about having tea. But Anne Hathaway, like, remembers the names of everybody and is, like, wants to give everybody credit for everything. But they talk a lot about how Garry Marshall would expect them to be, like, ready with the lines, but also ready to just like, chuck the entire script out on the day and be like, “No, actually now we're going to do it this way and say completely different lines.” And so a lot of it I think was… not exactly improvised, but sort of changed last minute, and if you watch other Garry Marshall movies, you can see that there's just so many things that he just likes to have in his movies that don't have anything to do with anything. And I think that's part of what makes this movie weird. And it's part of what makes it work too. I think that it feels more cohesive because it's so… there's the Garry Marshall trademark through it all. And that he had his children work on it and gave it sort of a family feel, I think really worked for this one.

Sophie

Yeah. Rosemary, I was saying to Jane that I need nepotism justice for Penny, because Penny is the only Marshall member that is not in this movie. And he mentioned in… I can't remember if it's the commentaries or like, one of the special features that he's like, “They wanted me to cast Penny as the queen and I said absolutely not.”

[all laugh]

Jane

That's got to be a joke, though. I don't think that anyone considered Penny Marshall for the queen, but that would be a hilarious movie. It'd be a very different movie, but it would be hilarious.

Sophie

Yeah. Well, Penny Marshall and actually Carrie Fisher in one of my favorite childhood books they did like a star-studded Emperor's New Clothes reading, and Penny Marshall and Carrie Fisher played the ladies in waiting, who are like very bitchy and talk about the queen behind her back. It's fantastic.

Jane

That sounds amazing.

Rosemary

Yeah, what role could Penny Marshall have played?

Sophie

That's a good question. They could have taken out the puppet and had Penny be the puppet instead. On strings.

Jane

But they didn't use the puppet thing at all. The person who says “Maybe it's string cheese” I believe is Garry Marshall's wife, so she- Penny could have just been one of those like background people.

Sophie

Yeah, she could have been at the state dinner.

Jane

She could have been the pear juggler.

Sophie

That would have been great.

Rosemary

Or one of the reporters.

Jane

Yeah, Suki- What's… Suki Sanchez?

Sophie

Suki Sanchez? Yeah.

Rosemary

No, we don't want to get rid of Suki Sanchez. I mean, one of the ones that were like, “I’m from Teen Scene Magazine!”

Jane

Oh yeah. OK.

Sophie

“She's wearing a grunge look.” No, she's just wet.

Jane

That is so funny. I love that moment. It's like, “She's styling a wet sort of grunge-look hairdo.” It's like yes.

Rosemary

“And is wearing a sweatshirt, jeans, and Docs.”

Jane

“…jeans and Docs.”

Rosemary

The important things.

Sophie

Yeah, I do, I do appreciate that the Docs are like the one thing that made it from book to movie. Because those are very important.

Rosemary

They are her trademark.

Jane

They mentioned in the commentary that like originally, that scene was going to be like very regal and she was going to be in her ball gown and stuff and they changed it so that they would have her looking like looking sort of… mot all put together and to show that her confidence was coming from within rather than from external things, but they still gave her a makeover. So like it was still partly external. I mean, OK, the makeover scene… I don't like makeover scenes in movies. There's too many of them. I will say this one is pretty good. Just because Larry Miller is hilarious: his weird like accent, and then his like, fake European language thing is just like-

Rosemary

“Brushka, Helga!”

Jane

Yeah. Like. Yeah, [imitates nonsense phrase]. Like, he just makes up stuff and it's just so silly and that, like his his little things that he says, like her eyebrows are named Frida and Kahlo. And it's like, really weird things. And so it's it's like not bad. But I also kind of wish that she hadn't had to have a makeover, and they could have just, like, left her hair as it was. I know… I know that her makeover is really to make her look more like Anne Hathaway, and she was like- Anne Hathaway had worn a wig and like fake eyebrows and stuff like that in her, like, earlier look. But I think it would have been really interesting to show like a quote unquote “ugly” person not having to change to be conventionally attractive and still being able to be empowered. But like of course, I'm not saying that they shouldn't have cast Anne Hathaway because she's great in this movie.

Sophie

Sure.

Jane

But at the same time, it's like, Anne Hathaway is also very conventionally attractive. So like, it would have been cool to have a like more not conventionally attractive looking person in this role, and just like, let her be who she is and look the way she looks. But that obviously wasn't what this movie was trying to do, but like that is one thing that that bothers me a little bit about it.

Sophie

Yeah.

Rosemary

She's also blonde in the books.

Jane

Yes.

Rosemary

Don't they give her a Pixie cut?

Sophie

Yeah, they cut- I think that's what Paolo's referencing when he says, “Next time a little shorter.” But yes, there's a very distinct reference in the book where she says her hair looks like an upside down yield sign because it's so it, like, here and then goes straight. You can't see me in the podcast, but I'm gesturing.

Jane

Yeah, it's like a triangle hair thing. I remember that being mentioned.

Rosemary

Yeah, I think about that a lot. Like,

Sophie

Yeah.

Rosemary

Her yield sign hair.

Sophie

I feel like part of what makes the makeover scene work - I I will agree with you, Jane. I think they give her way too much makeup for a 15-year-old, and then they just like the framing of it as like, she started out so hideous and then look what I… look what I made of this mess you gave me - is Paolo's, like you said, he's just so funny. He's so weird and a little gross, but like in an amusing sort of way. And she also seems to be… once they finish plucking her eyebrows, she seems to be really enjoying herself. She's got her Walkman. She's got cucumbers on her eyes. She's like, bopping to the music a little bit.

Jane

“The cucumber does nothing.”

Sophie

[laughing] Nothing.

Jane

Yeah, I don't object to it too much. It's just sort of the concept of…of makeovers is a little…

Speaker

Sophie

Jane

Obnoxious to me, but it it works. And I also think it's interesting because I believe from what I remember of the books, when she's exposed to the press in the books, it was actually the grandmother who told the press. And they changed it in the movie so that it was Paolo.

Sophie

“I, Paulo Puttanesca!”

Jane

That scene, just like, first of all, we also have to talk about Sandra Oh.

Sophie

Yes!

Rosemary

I was gonna bring her up too.

Jane

She, as the vice principal, Gupta, is so good. She's like only in it a little bit, but every moment she has is perfect. From the from the beginning, when she's like, “Morning, Lilly! …Lilly's friend.”

Sophie

Lilly’s friend!

Jane

And like but that scene when she like answers the phone with her iconic, “Gupta. Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. The Queen is coming. To Grove High School.” It's so good. And then and then when the Queen shows up and she's like fawning over her and, like, imitating her gestures and then just like, she, like, gives her this teacup. And it's like, “I'm sorry, we don't have finer China.” And then she just, like, hands a paper cup to Helen, the mom.”

Sophie

Uh-huh. “Here!”

Jane

So good. And then when Joe brings Paolo in and they have their whole little like routine of like he keeps starting to go and Joe, like, pushes him back is- that scene is just… There's just so much comedy gold there. And it's like it's amazing.

Sophie

Well, yeah, so Larry Miller is in two of my favorite childhood movies that came out around the same time: this one and Best in Show.

Jane

Yeah. And he's also in Mighty Wind. And he-

Sophie

Right.

Jane

He's he sets up one of Jennifer Coolidge's best moments too, when, because he's the one that she has one- They have one brain between them. The two of them, so yes.

Sophie

Oh, OK. Yeah. So he just like… The difference between those two roles, but they're both equally funny and weird.

Jane

Yeah, yeah. Best in Show he's awful. Like, I mean, I guess he's awful in this too. Like, his character is. But in that one, he's just like openly flirting with a married woman and then his- oh yeah, his job is like to talk people down…

Sophie

Down off ledges, yes.

Jane

…who are going to jump off building, but he's terrible at it. And he's just like, “Oh, they always jump.”

Sophie

“Their eyes pop out like grapes!”

Jane

[laughs] Ah, he's so he's such a silly man.

Sophie

Yeah.

Jane

But yes, so I enjoy him. I enjoy Sandra Oh, a lot. I enjoy Kathleen Marshall. I think that her Charlotte is…

Sophie

So sweet.

Jane

…a very a great character. I also… Not that I want there to be more romances, but I really like the thing between Clarisse and Joe and how they… their dancing scene is kind of… it- it has moments that remind me of The Sound of Music with Christopher Plummer like their dancing scene. But I love when Charlotte comes in and is like about to say something and then sees they’re having a moment and just like backs away.

Sophie

Yep, I’ll go away now. Yeah

Jane

My other favorite Charlotte moment is when [laughs] when she's worried because Mia hasn't shown up at the ball at the end and Clarisse is like, “Is everything all right?” And she goes. “Everything's perfect. Perfect? It's wonderful!” “You're not very good at lying, are you, Charlotte?”

Sophie

“No I'm not.”

Jane

“No, I'm not, your Majesty.” Oh, it's so good. So good. There's just… I think that's ultimately… like, I mean the story overall is great and the acting is great and all that. But like, I think just all those little fun little moments are really what keeps me returning to this movie is it's just like there's so many fun little scenes like that.

Rosemary

“And that's enough pear juggling.”

Jane

Such a good- like, ah, there's just, yeah. It's just such a fun little movie.

Sophie

It's funny, you mentioned the- the dance scene because I was thinking about how… like sweet, that is when he says, “You've been wearing black for far too long.” And in comparison, I had no recollection of this line from Lilly, but she says to Mia, she says, “The guy died, what, two months ago? I thought you'd gotten over it already.” What are you talking about?

Rosemary

Her dad died 8 weeks ago and you're like, “You should move on.”

Sophie

Chop chop!

Jane

Well, but also, she'd never met her dad. So like…

Sophie

Yeah.

Rosemary

True…

Jane

But also like I feel like that's also not a very long time to mourn your son? Because it's like…

Sophie

Right.

Jane

But I think that her husband died the previous year?

Sophie

Yeah, I think he's- I think he's referencing Rupert, not Phillipe.

Jane

“King Rupert, may he rest in peace.”

Sophie

“Rest in peace.”

Jane

That's from the second one though.

Sophie

I also didn't recall Pierre. I didn't recall there being a brother at all.

Jane

Oh yeah.

Sophie

Maybe he's not in the book, but…

Jane

Is he in the book?

Sophie

I don't remember him.

Jane

It's really like referenced, sort of offhandedly, like, “Oh yes, my my eldest Pierre wanted to abdicate and join the church.”

Sophie

Yeah

Jane

It's like, you have another kid?

Sophie

What?

Rosemary

Yeah.

Jane

Where's he? That… yeah, that was... I feel like that was kind of unnecessary.

Sophie

Yeah, there are a lot of changes that I feel like they really didn't need to make. Like Mr. G in the book is an algebra teacher, Helen’s boyfriend. And now all of a sudden, he's Mr. O'Connell and teaches debate, but also coaches baseball, but also teaches English?

Rosemary

Is just always there.

Jane

They have like four teachers in the school and they're just all in every class.

Sophie

There's Coach Harbula, there’s Vice Principal Gupta, and there's Mr. O'Connell and maybe there's one other person floating around.

Rosemary

The choir teacher.

Sophie

Oh, yes. Yes okay.

Jane

In the scene when when Mia puts the ice cream on Lana and Gupta’s like, “Oh, I was in a very important meeting,” it's just the four of them.

Speaker

It's just them having lunch.

Jane

Like, that's the entire staff of the- of the school.

Sophie

Of Grove High School.

Rosemary

“Lana got coned! Lana got coned!”

Jane

I was so confused by the “Lana got coned” chant for a long time.

Rosemary

Yes.

Jane

Because I couldn't tell what they were saying. And I was like, is that a thing?

Rosemary

I know!

Jane

Or is that just like, what people would have just decided to call this?

Sophie

It's the early 2000s, as opposed to late 2000s equivalent of getting slushied I guess. It's just something that happens in high schools with mean kids. I don't know. I also, speaking of not being able to understand what people are saying, for my entire life until this rewatch, I thought, Fontana said after the debate situation, I thought she said to Mia, “I thought you were speaking at the Believe It convention.”

Speaker

OK, I thought that was just me!

Sophie

It’s bulimic.

Jane

Yeah!

Sophie

Which makes so much more sense, but I was like… what? Who? What is this? Is this something that I should know about?

Rosemary

Oh, the Believe It? What?

Jane

Yeah, that's what I heard too.

Rosemary

No!

Jane

Because she's like, “Is it true you're speaking at the Believe It convention?” and-

Rosemary

No!

Jane

Yeah, okay.

Sophie

Like I can’t believe it.

Rosemary

It’s definitely “bulimic.”

Jane

Well, yes, that does make a lot more sense. But yeah, no, I couldn't understand that for a long time too. OK. I'm glad it's not just me. I thought once I figured out what they were saying, I was like...

Sophie

Yeah, that makes a lot more sense.

Jane

Of course, that's what they're saying, but OK, yes.

Rosemary

I was definitely… it was one of the more recent rewatch is when I realized she was saying “a yachting yahoo.” I thought she was just saying “a yada yahoo.”

Jane

Ohh yeah, I thought that for at first for a while too. OK. Do you remember? I I have no clue when this was, but we used to have a computer in the basement and it didn't- It wasn't connected to the internet, we just used it for like writing papers and stuff?

Sophie

Typing and stuff, yeah.

Jane

And it would have… we made it so that the screen saver was like word art. And we… it was like, the showers upstairs didn't work, so we would always shower in the basement and we walk by this computer and like every time we would walk by, we would change the screensaver to the next line from that scene when Lilly and Mia are fighting and playing basketball, like that scene. So I just remember, like we would just, we quoted that whole scene in the screen saver on that computer for no reason just because it was a fun thing to do.

Rosemary

Yeah!

Sophie

That that very much tracks with what I know of your childhood and your relationship.

Jane

Yes. So I still think about that computer whenever I think about that scene.

Sophie

That’s funny.

Jane

But I'm I'm not sure if we wrote “yachting yahoo” or if we wrote, “yada yahoo.”

Rosemary

Yeah, I don't know. I also need to mention that I was a youth that kept a diary pretty faithfully, and there is a section of a diary that I had around that time where I was like, “I can't believe I keep saying the word ‘I.’ I should think about other people!” And it was because I was like, inspired by Mia Thermopolis's speech. But it was like, it's so funny. There’s this little section of like 12-year-old me being like, “I need to stop saying ‘I.’” Like it was just a new thought that had occurred to me.

Sophie

Sure. That's… that's sad and cute at the same time.

Jane

Yes.

Rosemary

So what else do we need to cover?

Sophie

Well, I definitely want to mention the soundtrack, which I think is one of my favorite parts of this movie. I think I… I mean, I've seen the movie a zillion times and like, had the VHS and the DVD, but I also had the CD and I must have listened to the CD until it was like, so scratched beyond belief. Every song is so good.

Rosemary

Mm-hmm.

Jane

Yeah. I remember we got the CD from the library a few times, but we never owned it. We had the Princess Diaries 2 soundtrack.

Rosemary

Yeah.

Sophie

Also good, but not quite as good.

Jane

I was just so excited about Julie Andrews singing again. So like…

Sophie

Yes. That is my favorite song from the second movie.

Jane

Yeah, definitely. Not sure why Raven’s there, but you know, it's still a great song.

Sophie

She has to do some sort of hippity hoppity for the youth. They they won't they won't last doing the… just Julie Andrews doing like a musical style number.

Jane

“But I don’t know how to do this sort of thing.”

Rosemary [overlapping with Jane]

“I don’t know how to do this.”

[all laugh]

Jane

Oh man, anyway, but yes, the the soundtrack for the original movie, which is what we're supposed to be talking about, is really good. There's so many great songs on it, and I really I- it's super random, but I really enjoy Mandy Moore singing “Stupid Cupid.” I don't really know why she sings it there in the movie, but like it's great.

Sophie

It's a weird song to have in that scene. It's weird that she sings it, but I'm so glad she does.

Jane

I also really enjoy that Anna and Fontana are there as backup singers, but their mouths never move. They're just like doing a dance. And like you hear the like background vocals, but they are not singing.

Sophie

They're not lip syncing. Yeah, I will say Mandy did not lip sync that scene particularly well. But her outfit is good enough to where it doesn't even matter. Her polka dot skirt is incredible.

Rosemary

And the like uni-boob tank top sweater.

Sophie

Yeah, the the halter sweater with the handkerchief hem. Oh my gosh, it's very Y2K.

Rosemary

It's exactly what I would wear to the beach.

Sophie

Sure. And platform flip flops.

Rosemary

I also need to confess something that as a child when this movie came out, whatever, I was very confused because I thought that Mandy Moore and Marilyn Monroe were the same person. And so I was so confused because I like knew that Marilyn Monroe… like I wasn't 100% sure who she was, but I knew she was like an icon and that like she was in Princess Diaries, cause it was like an alliterative M name, and I totally like was like, I don't know, it's got to be Marilyn Monroe. And then like… finding out more about Marilyn Monroe as I got older and then I was like…. I don't think that's Marilyn Monroe...

[all laugh]

Jane

I think she's very dead.

Sophie

I don’t think so.

Rosemary

I don't think it's the same person, but I’m not sure.

Sophie

It could be, but I'm not quite sure.

Jane

That's amazing.

Rosemary

But I remember being very confused about Mandy Moore and Marilyn Monroe in that movie.

Jane

That's amazing.

Sophie

That’s really cute.

Jane

One thing that I think is really interesting that I didn't quite pick up on until more recent rewatches is like just speaking of the whole beach thing: They're taking pictures of a 15-year-old in a state of undress and publishing them in tabloids. And it's seen as the 15-year-old's fault.

Sophie

Mm-hmm.

Rosemary

It's horrible.

Jane

It's it's terrible and like it's supposed to be bad. And you're like, supposed to think like, oh, it's- I feel bad for her, but I hadn't quite absorbed how awful that is. And it's like, I mean, that does happen, stuff like that. And it's like it's her fault when it very much was not for several reasons. But I just, it's just like, struck me as so much more disturbing to be like, OK, we're gonna have this undressed teenager that we took pictures of without her consent and blame her for it, and that was upsetting to me when I was just realizing that. But I also think that the scene when Clarisse confronts Mia about that is really well done. I think that they like, hit those emotional beats really well, and just like that, that she's really disappointed in her. But like Mia handles it well. And then I love when Joe comes in and sort of says, like “You were too harsh on her” and that they managed to slip in some levity with her with that moment of, like, “Her friends didn't help- Anna, Banana… Montana.” And I love that. And then that like, that's the moment when Clarisse says, “I have no idea what you're talking about” is great. But I also think it's like such a good point of, like, the thing. About like, “As a queen, I was too critical of the person who could become the next ruler of my country.” And he says, “No. As a grandmother, you were too harsh on your granddaughter.” And then that she takes that into the scene when they're in Mia's house talking about giving the speech or whatever, but she says, like, “I am first and foremost your grandmother.” And then that great moment when she hugs her and then just kind of goes, “Ah! I- I did it! I hugged someone!” is so great because she's been so emotionally distant and yeah. I just, I think that they really like they… they Julie Andrews-ified the queen but they didn't like make her completely like… soft and lovable. I mean, I guess it's kind of Mary Poppins too, where she's like, standoffish, but then also like sweet underneath.

Rosemary

But she's definitely not Maria von Trapp.

Jane

No.

Sophie

Correct.

Jane

She has to go through a journey too. Like the queen goes through a journey as well as Mia, and they go through very different journeys but kind of meet up at the end. And it's also just really nice that Clarisse still believed that Mia could do it and, like, had a tiara ready for her, even though she said she was going to step down and like… The whole end part of the movie just really pays off and I think that their relationship arc, the grandmother/granddaughter relationship is really… a great central story to this whole thing. Like it's like, yeah, it's about a girl who finds out she's a Princess, but it's also about, like, becoming connected with her estranged grandmother, who also needs some connection in her life. And I think that that's very well done.

Sophie

Yeah, I totally agree.

Jane

Mia's dad is dead, but we see, like pictures of him and one like flashback and that is Anne Hathaway's actual father. The voice is not. But they were going to use pictures of him, but then the scene with- when he's writing the note in the diary, they were just going to have somebody else wearing a wig to look like his hair, but then he happened to be in San Francisco for unrelated reasons while they were filming there. So they just, like, got him writing the letter. So that's kind of fun.

Sophie

That’s so cute.

Rosemary

I think another thing that this movie does well is like, adults taking teenagers seriously.

Jane

Oh yeah.

Rosemary

And like listening to them like… Mia and her mom had, like, real conversations together, and her mom doesn't just like, brush her off and be like, well, you're just a dumb teenager. Like her mom, like takes things to heart. And, you know, when she's like, “How could you lie to me for 15 years? I don't feel protected,” like her mom, like, takes that and it's like, this is where we're at now, and let's see what we can do to move forward. And then again when Mia’s like, “I can't believe you're dating my teacher!” She's like… she actually apologizes to her.

Sophie

Yeah.

Rosemary

And like when even like… the premise of the Mia has to hit a baseball to pass gym class is stupid, but like I even really like that gym teacher because she's just like, “I'm rooting for you.” And like…

Sophie

Yeah, I love Coach Harbula.

Rosemary

Mm-hmm.

Sophie

She, like… without like compromising her… like Mia says, “I can't do this. I'm a girl” and she's like... “Hello!”

Jane

“What am I, a duck?”

Sophie

“What am I, a duck?” Yeah. Which is hilarious when in the bonus features, you see that actor make duck noises and various other sound effects, which she's fantastic at. But yeah, she's very supportive while like being like, “You, you got to do this thing. I know it's hard.” Then she does it, and she's so proud of her at the end, which is really nice. And you know, having Josh get hit in the balls is… not a downside in the slightest.

Jane

I also think it's really funny that nobody else in the outfield can possibly pick up the ball. Just like, “You have to get up and throw it. We can't come over and find it.” Like I think that’s really funny.

Sophie

Well, one kid, one kid is on the phone with his mom about the dentist, so it couldn't be him. And then-

Jane

Bobby Bad.

Sophie

Twelve girls are doing some sort of cheerleading routine, so it couldn't be them.

Jane

Why- OK. But also like, why is the entire staff there? Because like Gupta-

Rosemary

Mr. O'Connell have picked up the ball.

Sophie

I know!

Jane

Yeah. Like, why was he there in the gym class? Why is Gupta coaching the cheerleaders? Like it's just like it's... I don't know. OK, two things that I was gonna say. One thing: going back to the mom relationship. I love when after the like beach fiasco, the mom says like, “My mom always told me not to cry and like to be strong. But you've been hurt. So you just cry.” And like I think that's so great. It's like, yeah, feel your feelings. Let's encourage girls to to feel their feelings and not shame them for being upset when upsetting things happen. And the other thing going way back to when we were talking about why the teacher changes from algebra to the like, debate teacher, because in the books Mia is really bad at math and then like her mom’s dating her math teacher. But I think that it really… it contributed to the arc to have her like, have this fear of public speaking and then like going into being a Princess where like you have to do a lot of public speaking and like that, adding to the reason of like, why not only why she doesn't want to be a Princess, but why she doesn't even want to show up to abdicate the throne. Like she's going to run away to Colorado in a car that doesn't run. That seems like a good plan.

Rosemary

Without a driver's license.

Jane

Yeah.

Sophie

With the cat!

Jane

With the cat, yeah!

Sophie

She's gonna take the cat to go rock climbing. And you can tell Fat Louie is like, first of all, this is a terrible idea. Second of all, please do not bring me into this. I want to live in my warm firehouse, OK, with my crazy artist mom. Do not take me to the rocks.

Jane

Yes. But anyway. So yeah, I think that that might have been part of why they decided to make the teacher that the mom ends up with be the debate teacher. So they could show that- set it up really early.

Rosemary

Yeah, it's definitely like easier to show being bad at debate in a movie than it is to be like “I am bad at algebra.” Like…

Jane

Yeah.

Sophie

Well, yeah. And it's, it's also like it's not Mean Girls where she has to solve the equation at the end of the movie for the big finish. It’s like she has to make this speech.

Rosemary [overlapping]

Make a speech.

Sophie

Right.

Jane

Yeah, it's like it's not that she's found out she's like inheriting a math thing like, “You… you have… you have to be the head of the math department because of who your father was” or something. It's like, “Oh, no, but I'm bad at math!”

Sophie

Yeah. That's hilarious.

Jane

So yeah, so I think that it works. I do think it's weird that they changed his name but…whatever

Sophie

Hmm-hmm. I don't know, maybe there are more Irish people than Italians in San Francisco, which I don't think is true, but-

Jane

They changed it to San Francisco just so they could have the scene where she, like, goes down the hill and runs into a trolley. Like, that- which is a great scene, by the way, but like-

Sophie

Yeah.

Jane

It's like it doesn't really have anything to do with the story. I guess I guess it shows the queen in action, which it's a little bit of like showing that royalty can get away with stuff that other people can't. But I just think it's just so great to show that the queen can like...

Sophie

She's loosening up a little bit. Yeah, I mean, you, first of all, get the nuns calling 911 and they're busy and they say, “For the love of God,” which is hilarious, iconic. Then you get the Order of the Rose and then at the end, she says “Goodbye trolley people.”

Jane

And you get the, “Does anybody have a Saber?” “I've got an umbrella!” Which I love. I love, first of all, like, of course, everyone's carrying around a Saber, and then just like “I've got an umbrella” and she's like, “uhh…” “Well, I have an emergency brake!” “This will do nicely,” so great. And then and then I love that the trolley driver and the police officer show up at the ball at the end with little like things like they got an official badge.

Sophie

With their medals, yeah. So cute.

Jane

Yeah, it's like, oh, yes, they- let's make the Order of the Rose a real thing. And, and also Anne Hathaway's “Oh- OH OOOOHHH!” is so well done. Like, every moment of that scene is just great.

Sophie

Yeah, 100%.

Rosemary

I think going back to adults taking teens seriously and paying attention to them, I think another really good example of that is Joe.

Sophie

Mm-hmm.

Jane

Oh yeah.

Rosemary

And the ways that he, like, pays attention to Mia and like he encourages her, like, when Lilly has a negative reaction to her like getting a makeover. And he's just like, you're going to be OK. And then what we already talked about when he, like, goes… when Clarissa was like, “Was I too hard on her?” and he was like, “Yeah, you were.” I really like the ways that Joe is like a safe adult for her. And like is a really good bodyguard sort of person.

Sophie

Yeah, he won't let her take the flags off the limo, but he will quote Eleanor Roosevelt to her and put up the divider screen so she can put on pantyhose in the back seat.

Jane

Well, and he won't let her call him Joey.

Sophie

Right. But he'll go and buy her high heels.

Rosemary

He went and got her the pantyhose and the high heels.

Sophie

Yeah.

Rosemary

And like, he seems like he knows what's going on. Also when he's like, “with the beach friends” and like knowing that they're like, ridiculous and mean to her and like… Yeah, I think... I think that that is another reason why this movie was so like… comforting as a child and teen to watch because you're like, “my problems do matter,” and like “adults do care about teens” kind of thing. I think that there's that sense of it that really makes it a comforting movie and like… I hope that all teenagers have aJoe in their life, or a Clarisse, or a Helen or a Coach Harbula, or Charlotte, or, you know? The way that that Mia has these supportive people in her life that aren't even necessarily related to her. It's a really nice portrayal of that.

Sophie

Yeah.

Jane

Yeah.

Sophie

I totally agree.

Jane

Anything else that we desperately want to add? I mean, there's so much more that I could say about this movie, but uh, I don't want to just go on and on forever. I think that that that we've covered a lot of the important things about it.

Sophie

Maybe we can release our own deleted scenes at some point.

[Jane and Rosemary laugh]

Sophie

With puppets.

Rosemary

And bananas?

Sophie

Yes.

Jane

The deleted scenes are very interesting. I think that they did a great job of figuring out what to delete and what to keep.

Rosemary

A great job of deleting them.

Sophie

Yes.

Jane

Yeah. Because a lot of times like you, you see deleted scenes and you're like, “Oh, this could have been in the movie.” I mean, I guess the one I I do think it would have been nice to see Mia and Michael having pizza together.

Sophie

Mm-hmm.

Jane

Because it is a little odd that the pizza is so important at the end, and they've just like kind of mentioned it once in a throwaway line right before “Wait up. Wait for me! Not you. I don't even know you!” which is amazing and I love it so much. We haven't talked enough about Lilly I don't think. But she is a great character.

Sophie

Mm-hmm.

Jane

I feel like very often in movies where there's like a best friend, the best friend is just kind of there to like be a sidekick and I think Lilly Moskovitz is no one’s sidekick and she, like, is doing her best to make a difference in the world. And then, like finds out that her friend actually might have the means to really make a difference. And like, calls her out when she's like, “Yeah, you absolutely can do this.” But she's like Lilly's not perfect. Like, she gets really jealous of Mia. And so I think that that she's a very complex character. And I really like the way that she's portrayed.

Sophie

Yeah, I think if we were talking about the second movie we could say more because I think Lilly is a more active participant in the sequel, but we do get the great scene of her trying to vamp while she has Jeremiah on Shut Up and Listen. And you know that is one of the major conflicts is like Mia’s ditching all her friends for this, you know, popularity that she thinks she wants and then it turns out that that's not actually what's going to make her happy.

Jane

It's so wild to me that she doesn't even tell Lilly that she's going on a date with Josh. Like it… it seems like that would be something that you would tell your best friend, even if you forgot that you were supposed to be doing something with them. It's almost like, did Mia forget? Or was she, like, intentionally avoiding her because she- I mean, I know there was the whole thing earlier in the film when when Lilly's like, “Jerk and jerkette sighting” and like, Lilly does never like Josh, so I guess that could have been part of it too, but it's like at least she tells Michael that she's not showing up for their date, whereas like she doesn't even tell Lilly she's not going to be on her show.

Sophie

Yeah, I do think there could have been some sort of mention like “I can't tell Lilly what I'm doing because she's gonna judge me and like, she's gonna be even more mad if I, you know, tell her I'm I'm going to the party with Josh than if I just, like, didn't show up.” But…

Jane

Yeah, but she doesn't even… it's like she forgot about Lilly completely.

Sophie

Right.

Jane

Like it's like I'm not thinking about Lilly at all. And it's like… interesting to show her kind of starting to go off into this direction of like, “I'm going to be a mean popular kid” and then just like, totally failing at it and being like, “You know, that wasn't me. I totally messed up.” The movie does a good job of showing you how to take responsibility for when you mess up and then like showing, but you don't have to take responsibility for everything. Cause like not all the stuff that happened at the beach was Mia's fault, and it's portrayed as unreasonable that like people get so upset at her about that, but also like some of the stuff she did was bad, like she ditched her best friend and like showing her take responsibility for that, apologize, try and make amends for both Lilly and Michael, I I think I just think that's done really well. And I think that that's a good message to be giving to kids of like, you do need to take responsibility for the stuff that is your fault.

Sophie

And when she does apologize, she never like demands that she be forgiven. Like she says to Lilly on the roof, she's like, “I hope you can forgive me.”

Jane

Mm-hmm.

Sophie

She doesn't like expect that that's automatically going to come just because she said she's sorry, which I think is really cool.

Jane

Yeah and I love Lilly’s response of, “But what will I wear?” And she's just like, “Oh, I'm so glad you're gonna come!” And it's it's just a really sweet moment.

Sophie

And I will, I will say when she hugs Lilly after Lilly says she's going to come to the party, her foot does pop.

Jane

Yes it does. I I noted that as well.

Sophie

So it's not just, it's not just a romantic thing. It's for any kind of love.

Jane

Yeah. And again, that's… what I do really like about this movie is that they focus on a lot of different kinds of love, a lot of different deep relationships with different people, and I think they do a really good job of developing many of them and that's really great.

Sophie

I love this movie.

Jane

Ah, me too.

Rosemary

I do too. Well, thanks for… thanks for having me on to talk about it again.

Jane

Yes, I'm so glad to have both of you back.

Sophie

I'm so glad we got to talk about it. The three of us, that was fun.

Jane

Yes! So uh… thank you so much for being here and I… don't know how to wrap this up.

Rosemary

Miracles happen.

Sophie

“Thank you for being here today.”

Jane

“Thank you for being here today.” Yes. Oh, that's another great moment that I must mention when Joe is, like, so committed to pretending to drive the car that he even like puts the parking brake on before getting up. So great. Anyway, “thank you for being here today.” I love this movie. I love both of you and I'm so glad that we did this.

Sophie

Me too.

Rosemary

“Goodbye trolley people!”

[all laugh]

Jane

Ah, that was so fun. Thank you to Sophie and Rosemary for that lovely chat, and thank you audience for listening! This will be my final guest episode; my top six are so personal that it feels right to just talk about them myself. The next two episodes will be the final tie on my list, featuring the two movies that I watched 31 times. Coincidentally, one of them is the oldest movie in my entire top 40, and the other is the newest. The newest movie is also the shortest movie on the list, so I’ll be talking about that first. As always, I will leave you with a quote from that next movie: “First off, I work alone. Always have, always will. Second, take a hike. I don’t touch Hollywood cases. Not since… The War.”

#the princess diaries #garry marshall #anne hathaway #julie andrews #the rewatch rewind #i love this movie so much #and chatting about it with friends was so fun

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the-rewatch-rewind · 8 months

Text

Another new episode! Getting into the home stretch!

Script below the break

Hello and welcome back to The Rewatch Rewind! My name is Jane, and this is the podcast where I count down my top 40 most frequently rewatched movies in a 20-year period. Today I will be discussing number 8 on my list: Universal Pictures’ 1936 screwball comedy My Man Godfrey, directed by Gregory La Cava, written by Morrie Ryskind and Eric Hatch, based on a book by Eric Hatch, and starring William Powell and Carole Lombard.

The rich and spoiled Bullock sisters, Irene (Carole Lombard) and Cornelia (Gail Patrick), are participating in a scavenger hunt that requires them to find a “forgotten man,” so they race to a shanty town at a city dump. Cornelia gets there first and approaches a homeless man named Godfrey (William Powell), who finds her rude and condescending and therefore refuses to take her offered $5, instead causing her to fall into an ash pile. Irene is amused by Godfrey’s treatment of her sister/rival, and after a brief conversation, Godfrey is amused enough by Irene to agree to be her forgotten man. Irene is so grateful to him for helping her win the scavenger hunt against Cornelia that she offers him a job as the butler for their wacky family, and he accepts without having any idea what he’s in for.

I remember being introduced to this movie rather early in my foray into old Hollywood back in 2002. I can’t recall my exact first impressions, but I’m pretty sure I had seen it several times and was already kind of obsessed with it before I started keeping track of the movies I watched. Once I started keeping track, I watched My Man Godfrey six times in 2003, three times in 2004, three times in 2005, twice in 2007, once in 2008, twice in 2009, once in 2010, twice in 2011, once in 2013, once in 2014, once in 2017, once in 2018, twice in 2019, twice in 2020, once in 2021, and once in 2022.

The main thing that initially drew me to this movie was its silliness. Based on the movies I’ve talked about on this podcast so far, I think it’s pretty clear that I love to watch a bunch of ridiculous characters having a fun romp, and that’s what a lot of My Man Godfrey is. Angelica, the scatterbrained mother of the Bullock family, played delightfully by Alice Brady, is one of the silliest characters in any movie ever, and when I was a young teen, all she had to do was open her mouth to crack me up. Now I find some of her antics a bit grating, which they are definitely meant to be, but some of her lines do still make me laugh every time, like, “I’m positive I didn’t ride a horse last night because I didn’t have my riding costume on!” and “If you’re going to be rude to my daughter, you might at least take your hat off!” and, in response to Godfrey saying that he sold short to save the family from financial ruin, “I don’t understand, you sold short? You mean, gentlemen’s underwear?” My brother was particularly tickled by that last one as a child, to the point that when we played The Sims together, we created a character named Gentleman’s Underwear after that line.

Angelica is far from the only silly character in this movie, and what I love about the whole ensemble is that each character is entertaining in a different way. Angelica is scatterbrained and doesn’t really care what’s going on, while her husband Alexander (played by Eugene Pallette) has lost track of what’s going on mostly because he’s so fed up with his wife’s ridiculousness. And then there’s Carlo (played by Mischa Auer) who is Angelica’s “protégé,” and I’m still not really sure exactly what that means. I can’t tell if it’s a euphemism, or if she’s like, supposed to be teaching him piano? We definitely see him playing piano, and eating, and impersonating a gorilla, and reading to Angelica, and that seems to be all he does. So unclear what his purpose is, but he is amusing. On the other hand, Molly (played by Jean Dixon, who also played Edward Everett Horton’s wife in Holiday) has the very clear purpose of being the Bullock family’s maid. Her dry, sarcastic wit is amusing in an entirely different way that I love very much. There’s also Tommy Gray (played by Alan Mowbray), a friend of the Bullock family who also happens to recognize Godfrey from their college days. Not wanting to reveal that he came from a wealthy Boston family, Godfrey says that he was Tommy’s valet in college, forcing Tommy to try to invent a story explaining why Godfrey wouldn’t have given him as a reference when the Bullocks hired him. Tommy seems like a relatively normal guy who isn’t particularly bright. Watching him flounder in that scene could have easily become uncomfortable, but they managed to portray it in a way that’s just silly. And his invention of a wife and five children for Godfrey adds to the confusion and tension behind the main romance in the movie.

If you’ve listened to previous episodes of this podcast and have an especially keen memory, you may recall that Gregory La Cava also directed Stage Door, which was number 31 on my list and came out the year after My Man Godfrey. I’m not sure how much say he had in the casting of both of those movies, but I enjoy that there are several people who appeared in both, such as character actors Franklin Pangborn and Grady Sutton, neither of whom was credited in My Man Godfrey but both of whom make memorable appearances. The most notable cast member the two movies have in common is Gail Patrick, who was Ginger Rogers’s main rival besides Katharine Hepburn in Stage Door and Cornelia Bullock in My Man Godfrey. In both of these, as in most of her movies, Patrick’s character is rather unpleasant, but Cornelia is a bit more complex than that, and she fascinates me. She’s bitter and spoiled and mean to her sister and can’t decide if she wants to seduce Godfrey or hurt him or both. After Godfrey tells her what he thinks of her, she tries to frame him for robbery by hiding her pearl necklace under his mattress, but he manages to find it and hide it better before the police search his room. Cornelia is so insistent that it must be under the mattress that the police get suspicious and ask why she’s so sure of that, to which she responds with the amazing and thoroughly unconvincing line, “I read that that’s where people put things when they steal them!” Shockingly, even after all of this, the story actually redeems Cornelia somewhat. Godfrey is able to save the family financially by pawning her necklace, and after he reveals this he tells her that he, too, was once a spoiled child, and that she has the potential to be a good person if she so chooses. Cornelia is visibly moved by his words, and while we unfortunately never see her again after that scene, I like to believe that she takes them to heart and stops being so awful going forward.

But as much as I love all the supporting characters, I don’t think I’d have watched this movie nearly as many times if not for the leads. William Powell brings just the right combination of sophistication and jadedness to the role of Godfrey, making it easy to believe that he was once a rich man but lost everything he had to a woman he loved who betrayed him. It’s beautiful to watch him rediscover his own purpose and humanity in response to the Bullocks’ kindness and choose to focus on the positive aspects of their quirks. When William Powell was offered the role of Godfrey, he agreed to take it only if Carole Lombard would play Irene, knowing that she would be perfect, and he was completely correct. Lombard absolutely kills it as Irene, flawlessly combining the dramatic naïveté of an overgrown toddler with a genuine desire to be a good and mature person. And the way Powell and Lombard play off each other is utterly delightful. Their first conversation sets up their dynamic beautifully – he’s rather amused by her, but she takes everything he says extremely seriously. Like when she asks him, “Why do you live in a place like this when there are so many nice places?” and he responds, “It’s because my real estate agent felt that the altitude would be very good for my asthma,” she doesn’t seem to know that he’s joking, and says, “Oh my uncle has asthma!” And he just rolls with it and replies, “No! Well, now there’s a coincidence!” This is already funny as written, but their delivery and facial expressions make it so much funnier. Then probably my favorite part of the movie is when Irene is sulking and trying to get Godfrey to notice her, but she mostly just comes across as ridiculous, and Cornelia is heckling her mercilessly. Godfrey is trying to act uninterested, but it’s clear from a few of his glances in her direction that he really does want to give her the attention she craves. It’s readily apparent from all of their scenes that they both thoroughly understood the assignment and knew how to play off each other. Powell and Lombard had worked together twice before and had even been briefly married to each other from 1931 to 1933. Despite the fact that things didn’t work out between them romantically in real life, they remained good friends, and seem to have only used their history to bring out the best performance in each other here. It is kind of funny that Godfrey keeps telling Irene that she’s way too young for him because it’s like, “You clearly didn’t think she was too young when you married her five years ago!” Mostly, though, it just makes me really happy as someone who has no interest in pursuing romantic relationships to know that it was Powell and Lombard’s post-divorce friendship that led to possibly the best movie that either of them ever made. It’s so encouraging to see the evidence that sometimes the relationship between two people can actually get better when they stop trying to make it romantic.

However, it took me a while to see things that way, because in the movie itself, Godfrey and Irene do end up together romantically. Once I learned that the actors were divorced in real life, my first thought was more, “Wow, amazing that they could still pretend to be in love after falling out of love.” In more recent rewatches, I’ve come to realize that the romance in the movie is very weird – which, to be fair, is quite usual for screwball comedies – but I think as an obliviously aromantic teenager it greatly informed what I thought romance was. Irene meets a nice man who helps her win a game against her awful sister and decides to be in love with him, so all she has to do is convince him that he’s also in love with her. Not understanding that romantic attraction was a thing that I was not experiencing, teenaged me thought that was how that worked: you just pick somebody and decide you have a crush on them, and if the other person has also picked you to be their crush, romance is born. Right? Apparently not. Anyway, in more recent rewatches, when it gets to the part where Godfrey tells Irene, “You’re grateful to me because I helped you to beat Cornelia. And I’m grateful to you because you helped me to beat life. But that doesn’t mean that we have to fall in love,” I’m like, “Correct! It doesn’t mean that! You don’t have to fall in love!” But the movie implies that Godfrey is suppressing his feelings for Irene because of the previous bad relationship that led to his homelessness, and it expects us to all be on board with the way Irene follows him after he quits and basically forces him to marry her. The older I get, the more this ending bothers me. I realize that it’s meant to be part of the screwball silliness of it all, and that it was inevitable for a movie like this to make the male and female lead end up together, but it’s like, can we maybe make sure that Godfrey is on board with that first? I can very much see their marriage going the same way as that of the actors who played them, with Irene and Godfrey ultimately concluding that they’re better suited as friends than lovers. But again, as a young person watching this movie, I thought their relationship was beautiful. Soon after I first got really into My Man Godfrey, my friend had a Build-A-Bear birthday party, and I named my bear Godfrey. I can’t remember who I was talking to or how this came up, but I remember making the declaration that if I was still single at 40, I would marry that Godfrey bear. So if you’re listening to this, consider yourself invited to our wedding in seven years. It probably won’t be much weirder than Irene and Godfrey’s wedding at the end of this movie.

There is another element to My Man Godfrey besides its silliness and unconvincing romance that makes it particularly fascinating. While most 1930s screwball comedies seem to be intended to help audiences temporarily forget about the hardships of the Great Depression, My Man Godfrey uses the Depression as a big part of the plot. The rich are portrayed as frivolous and ridiculous, while the homeless “forgotten men” are portrayed as resilient and noble. Godfrey reveals to Tommy that after having his heart broken, he intended to drown himself in the river, but seeing people living at the dump next to the river, determined to survive despite their circumstances, made him change his mind. The hard times even impact the well-to-do, with Alexander Bullock nearly losing everything in bad investments. At first it seems odd that Godfrey would use the money from Cornelia’s necklace merely to help the rich snobs, but then it’s revealed that in addition to that, he converted the dump he used to live in to a nightclub, creating jobs, and affordable housing. And all of that was possible because the jobless men convinced Godfrey to keep living, then Irene was nice enough to employ Godfrey as a butler, and Cornelia was bitter enough to try to frame him for robbery. I assume that doing something like that would not have been nearly as easy as the movie makes it look, but I appreciate that instead of leaning into the pure escapism of so many films from that era, My Man Godfrey says, “Yes, times are hard, but don’t give up hope. Things can improve unexpectedly at any time. And small kindnesses can add up to make a very big difference.” And that message continues to resonate 87 years later. So while this is mostly a very silly comedy, its genuine moments showing the importance of human connection help keep it from descending into complete and utter chaos like some other screwball comedies I could name.

And perhaps it was that touch of seriousness that led this mostly silly comedy to six Oscar nominations: Gregory La Cava for Best Director, Eric Hatch and Morrie Ryskind for Best Adapted Screenplay, William Powell for Best Actor, Carole Lombard for Best Actress, Mischa Auer for Best Supporting Actor, and Alice Brady for Best Supporting Actress. This made My Man Godfrey the first movie to be nominated in all four acting categories, which isn’t saying much because that was also the first year that the Oscars had four acting categories, but it remains the only film to this day to be nominated in all four acting categories without being nominated for Best Picture. And it was the only movie to be nominated in those six categories without winning anything until American Hustle, 77 years later. Of all the people nominated for Oscars for My Man Godfrey, only Alice Brady would ever win one, for In Old Chicago the following year. The director and one of the writers would each be nominated once more, also the following year, for Stage Door. William Powell had been nominated once before, for 1934’s The Thin Man, and would be nominated again for 1947’s Life With Father. But this was the only nomination for both Mischa Auer and Carole Lombard. Lombard in particular really wanted an Oscar and moved on to dramatic roles for a few years hoping that would help, but it didn’t. So she briefly returned to comedy before her career and life were tragically cut short by a plane crash in 1942, when she was only 33 years old. So, my age. I feel like, had Carole Lombard lived longer and continued to make more films in a similar vein, she probably would have made it into more than one of my top 40. The more I rewatch My Man Godfrey, the more impressed I become with her performance. This is one of the few old movies that actually has a blooper reel available, and that shows just how different her normal speech and facial expressions and mannerisms were from Irene’s. I have watched and enjoyed several of Lombard’s other films, but a lot of them are a bit too silly even for me, and I really wish she could have been in more of the still fun and kooky but not-quite-as-screwball-as-the-‘30s comedies that were just starting to become popular around the time of her death. But at least we get to see her in My Man Godfrey. Thank you, William Powell.

My Man Godfrey was remade in 1957, and I watched that version one time in 2003, reacted with, Ew, they ruined it,and have never rewatched it. Maybe I will someday, just to see if it’s as bad as I remember it. No offense to that cast – there was no possible way to reach the standard set by the original. Sometimes remakes are great, but sometimes the original was already perfect and shouldn’t be messed with, and in my opinion, My Man Godfrey absolutely falls into the latter category. So what I’m saying is, if this podcast has made you want to watch this movie, make sure you get the 1936 version.

Thank you for listening to me discuss another of my most frequently rewatched movies. Next week I will be joined by not one but two very special guests, to discuss the longer of the two movies I watched 30 times, which is going to be very fun, so stay tuned for that. As always, I will leave you with a quote from that next movie: “Wait up! Wait for me! Not you, I don’t even know you!”

#my man godfrey #gregory la cava #william powell #carole lombard #this movie is so good #the rewatch rewind

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the-rewatch-rewind · 8 months

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A movie that is so much better than its reputation implies.

Script below the break

Hello and welcome back to The Rewatch Rewind! My name is Jane, and this is the podcast where I count down my top 40 most frequently rewatched movies in a 20-year period. Today I will be discussing number 9 on my list: Columbia Pictures’ 1987 comedy Ishtar, directed by Elaine May, written by Elaine May, and starring Warren Beatty and Dustin Hoffman.

Two extremely untalented songwriters, Lyle Rogers (Warren Beatty) and Chuck Clarke (Dustin Hoffman), manage to book a gig in a hotel in Marrakesh, Morocco. But on the way there from New York, when they’re stopped in the fictional bordering country of Ishtar, they encounter both a mysterious woman disguised as a man, later revealed to be left-wing agent Shirra Assel (Isabelle Adjani), who convinces Chuck to give her his passport, and CIA agent Jim Harrison (Charles Grodin), who recruits Chuck to spy for him. Without having any clue what’s going on, Lyle and Chuck become caught between rebels trying to overthrow the Emir of Ishar and the CIA trying to keep him in power, when all they want to do is keep writing songs.

So, first of all, let’s get this out of the way: as I mentioned at the end of last episode, this movie has often been cited as one of the worst films ever made. Aside from the whole question of whether it’s even possible to definitively rank something as subjective and vague as how “good” or “bad” a movie is, for Ishtar in particular, this feels like a highly unfair label. There were a lot of problems with making it, in terms of creative disagreements, political unrest in filming locations, and an enormous budget that kept growing, but plenty of movies with similar issues turn out okay. Most of the negative perceptions of this movie were stirred up by the press before and shortly after the film’s release, and it has been speculated that this was for two main reasons: one, Warren Beatty (who was also the producer) didn’t like dealing with press and had not permitted any reporters on set during filming, which they resented; and two, David Puttnam, who took over as head of Columbia Pictures during production of Ishtar and was well known for despising big-budget pictures, as well has having grudges against both Beatty and Hoffman, allegedly leaked negative stories about production to the media. So the movie was set up to fail at the box office, which it did, grossing just under $14.4 million against a budget of approximately $55 million. But, while there are definitely people who have seen it and not enjoyed it, which is fair enough, most of the people who strongly criticize it have never actually watched it. And despite all the conflict during production, the main people involved in making it still defend it, with Beatty calling it “a very good, not very big, comedy, made by a brilliant woman” and Hoffman quoted as saying, “I liked that film…just about everyone I’ve ever met that makes a face when the name is brought up has not seen it…I would do it again in a second,” and May stating in 2006, “If all of the people who hate Ishtar had seen it, I would be a rich woman today.”

Coincidentally, 2006 also happens to be the year when I first watched Ishtar. Not having been born yet when the film was released, I missed the negative press, and while I’m sure I was somewhat aware that it had a bad reputation, the main thing I knew about it was that my mom really liked it. I know she watched it twice in theaters, so it’s not her fault that its box office performance was so poor. She got it from the library to share with me, and I remember that before we watched it my dad said that he thought this was going to become one of my favorite movies, and he was extremely correct. I thought it was the funniest movie I’d ever seen and I could not get enough of it. I watched it three times in that month alone, then bought the VHS from the local Hollywood Video when they were selling all their tapes for $3 the following month, and had watched it a total of 8 times by the end of that year. I then watched it twice in 2007, twice in 2008, once in 2009, twice in 2010, once in each year from 2012 through 2017, once in 2019, three times in 2020, twice in 2021, and once in 2022. Ishtar was sadly never released on DVD in North America, but it did come out on Blu-ray in 2013, which I naturally also had to buy. I’ve shared this movie with several other people, but none of them have seemed to really get into it the way my mom and I did, which again, is totally reasonable. I get that it’s a weird and ridiculous movie. And there are even parts of it that I don’t like. But the parts that I love make me so happy that I can easily forgive the negative aspects.

The first 20 minutes or so in particular are just incredible. We get the perfect introduction to Chuck and Lyle, both their songwriting backgrounds and their friendship. The movie opens with them working out the lyrics to what will become their main song, trying to figure out a way to describe the concept of “tellin’ the truth,” coming up with such gems as “Tellin the truth is a scary predicament,” “Tellin the truth is a dangerous tunnel,” and my personal favorite “Tellin the truth is a bitter herb” before finally settling on “Tellin the truth can be dangerous business/Honest and popular don’t go hand in hand/If you admit that you can play the accordion/No one will hire you in a rock and roll band!” Once they’ve completed the song, they believe that Rogers and Clarke could become the next Simon and Garfunkel (“Dangerous Business is as good as Bridge over Troubled Water any day of the week!”), so they hire an agent, who thinks he can get them a job in either Honduras (“The last act left because they were nervous about the death squads, but there’s no danger if you don’t drive in the countryside”) or Morocco. While they’re thinking these offers over, we get some flashbacks about how they met and started working together, seeing how they’ve lost money, relationships, and pretty much everything else pursuing songwriting. So despite the fact that we’re clearly meant to be mocking them, we also can’t help but feel sorry for them. Their songs are bad but in a very funny way, and their mutual admiration is surprisingly sweet. The rest of the movie doesn’t quite live up to this intro, but even though the story does kind of fall apart a bit, I’m still thoroughly engaged the whole way through every time.

A big part of that is because I’m always amused by characters who think they know exactly what’s going on but actually have no clue. Come to think of it, Cary Grant often played characters like that, although usually not quite to this extent. In Ishtar, Lyle and Chuck are in a completely different world from all the other characters, in the most entertaining way possible. There are several relatively subtle examples of this that took me a few rewatches to notice but are now some of my favorite parts of the movie, like when Lyle is an ice cream truck driver in New York and is so focused on coming up with his next song that he doesn’t notice the crowd of children trying to get him to stop and let them buy ice cream, or when Chuck finds out the American Embassy in Ishtar can’t easily issue him a new passport and punches a hole in the divider between offices and everyone else in the room goes to fix it while he and Lyle keep talking obliviously, or when a ton of pedestrians and cars are very conspicuously following both of them in Marrakech without them ever catching on. And there are more obvious examples, like toward the end when both the CIA and the rebel army have sent Chuck and Lyle into the desert hoping they’ll die there, and even after they’ve gotten lost their main worry is that they’re missing their performance at the hotel. Things like this happen constantly throughout the film, and they’re funny every time. While it’s mostly entertaining, their cluelessness can also be taken as criticism of the average American’s ignorance when it comes to foreign politics. When Jim Harrison mentions Gaddafi, Chuck asks, “Is that near here?” clearly under the impression that Gaddafi is the name of a country rather than the ruler of one. Chuck seems to have the basic understanding that good guys equal Americans and friends of Americans, and bad guys equal communists, while Lyle seems to have even less understanding than that. Jim Harrison and Shirra Assel are their complete opposites, with a much deeper comprehension of the complexities of the tension in the area, albeit with very different perspectives. Jim is often exasperated and bewildered by Chuck and Lyle’s cluelessness, but Shirra, while she sometimes gets a little frustrated with and definitely takes advantage of them, never reveals much disdain toward them the way Jim does. Isabelle Adjani plays Shirra completely straight, as though this is a very serious political thriller, and her gravity makes the film so much funnier. Beatty and Hoffman are similarly committed to their characters’ conviction that the main storyline is their rise to prominence as songwriters. Charles Grodin plays Jim as though he’s the only main character who fully understands what movie he’s in, and wishes he knew how to get out of it. And to me, that is a perfectly hilarious dynamic.

I do want to acknowledge that there are aspects of this movie that are rather racist, particularly the part when Chuck is pretending to be a Moroccan translator at an auction and puts on a vaguely offensive accent, and then speaks gibberish that he imagines sounds like either Arabic or Berber languages. I do think that because we’ve already established him as a particularly ignorant character, the movie isn’t necessarily condoning what he’s doing, and it’s relatively harmless, but I do understand how it could make people uncomfortable. There’s also some vague homophobia in the way both Chuck and Lyle react to Shirra when they think she’s a man, and transphobia when Shirra having breasts is automatically interpreted as her being a woman. I would say these all fall under the “disappointing but not surprising” umbrella, given when this movie was made. But there are other aspects that are pleasantly surprising, such as rather blatant criticism of the CIA for keeping oppressive dictators in power and portraying left-wing rebels as the good guys. So it’s complicated.

And speaking of complicated, let’s get into Ishtar’s portrayals of sex and romance. In the flashback portion, we see that Chuck was dating a woman named Carol (played by Carol Kane) and Lyle was married to a woman named Willa (played very briefly by Tess Harper, who doesn’t even get any lines), but both of them get dumped because they’re more focused on songwriting than their significant others. But in Ishtar and Morocco, both Chuck and Lyle are interested in Shirra – maybe not quite as much as they’re interested in their music, but almost. They both seem to think they’re competing for her affections, but she is clearly not remotely interested in doing anything with either of them beyond getting them to help her overthrow the Emir. Shirra reacts to their unwanted advances by either getting slightly annoyed or using their interest in her to get them to do what she wants. Even at the end of the movie, when she cares about them enough to save their lives, and even enjoy their music, you still don’t get the feeling that she’s interested in them romantically. When Chuck and Lyle are pursuing her, they’re the ones who are portrayed as weird for focusing on romance when there are so many other more important things going on, which is a refreshing break from the amatonormative message of so many movies that romance is the highest goal. Similarly, Chuck and Lyle are clearly sexually attracted to Shirra, but aside from her exposing her breasts to reveal that she’s a woman, there’s nothing sexual that goes on between them. There’s a great conversation between Jim and Chuck when Jim’s describing how Shirra and Lyle were alone in a hotel room together, and Jim is convinced that Shirra seduced Lyle and recruited him to her cause, but Chuck says, “Oh don’t be ridiculous, Lyle’s not a communist; he’s from the South! And I don’t think she’s that kind of girl.” And when Jim points out, “She’s a suspected terrorist,” Chuck responds with, “Granted, but that doesn’t mean she sleeps around!” So the allonormative assumption that everybody’s having sex all the time is portrayed as ridiculous. Of course, when I started enjoying this movie I had no idea that I was aroace or that that was even a thing, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I love this story that had multiple opportunities to go down romantic and/or sexual paths but actively chose not to. Lyle, Chuck, and Shirra all end the movie happy and, at least as far as we know, single, and not enough movies have that kind of ending. When you’re always made to feel like the weird one for not thinking everything should be about romance and sex, it’s so nice to see any characters who try to make this movie become more about those things portrayed as the unreasonable ones.

But don’t get me wrong, the lack of a major romantic storyline is far from the main reason I love this movie; it’s merely the icing on top of a delightfully hilarious cake. There are so many great lines that my mom and I quote to each other constantly, like, “You’d rather have nothing than settle for less” and “My name is Hawk. It’s short for The Hawk” and “The dome of the Emir’s palace in Ishtar is gold. The people have never seen a refrigerator” and “This must be one of those once in a lifetime things, like the glaciers melting.” That last one is in response to a windstorm after they’ve been told there’s no wind in the desert, which they for some reason believed. I’m willing to concede that this movie does not have the best plot, but I also feel like that’s kind of the point. It’s just meant to be silly fun, and in my opinion, it absolutely succeeds at that. Even though the songs are meant to be terrible, I still rather enjoy them, in a so-bad-it’s-good kind of way. The end credits say that there’s a soundtrack available, and I spent a while trying to track one down, until I learned that despite the fact that they apparently recorded full versions of most of the song snippets we hear in the film, the soundtrack was never released, probably because of all the negative reviews. Besides Dangerous Business, which they do sing all of at the end of the movie, the only full song available that I know of is Portable Picnic, which is the expanded version of the “hot fudge love, cherry ripple kisses” song that Lyle comes up with in the ice cream truck. For all the other songs, we have to settle for the little clips in the film and forever wonder how the rest would have gone. Life is full of disappointments.

This movie is obviously not for everyone, but that’s true of pretty much every movie. The haters are going to keep hating, but it’s nice that there are multiple generations of audiences now who weren’t around for the negative press and can still discover and appreciate the fun silliness of it. Probably the worst result of the bad reviews and poor box office performance is the fact that Elaine May never directed another movie after Ishtar. (I mean, I guess technically she still could, but given that she’s in her 90s now, that seems unlikely.) And like, yes, by all accounts she was responsible for a significant amount of the conflict on set and prompted much of the overspending, but I can’t help thinking of several prominent male directors who have a reputation for working similarly and are hailed as geniuses, even if they direct an occasional flop. I do think part of it was that May herself was discouraged, both because she had such a rough time on set and because of the horrible media response, so she might not have wanted to direct again even if given the chance. But I don’t think it’s inaccurate to attribute at least some of the negativity aimed at her to sexism. Even now, 35 years post-Ishtar, there are still so few female directors in Hollywood, and when they succeed it’s taken as an anomaly, but when they fail it’s like, “goodbye,” and that needs to change. This is my most frequently rewatched movie that was directed by a woman, and one of only three in my entire top 40, along with Mamma Mia! (directed by Phyllida Lloyd) and Frozen (co-directed by Jennifer Lee and Chris Buck, who is a man, so I guess it would be more accurate to say there are only two and a half female-directed films in my top 40). I could definitely do better at seeking out films that were directed by women, but also, way more movies could be directed by women in the first place. Anyway, my point is, Ishtar probably wouldn’t have been quite so maligned if it had been made by a man, but it also probably wouldn’t have turned out nearly as enjoyable to me, so while I hate that it destroyed her career, I’m mostly very glad that Elaine May wrote and directed Ishtar.

Thank you for listening to me discuss why I love this unfairly maligned movie. To be clear, I’m not saying anybody is wrong for not liking Ishtar; all I’m saying is, I’ve watched it 28 times, and I haven’t gotten tired of it yet. I didn’t watch any movies exactly 29 times, but I did watch two movies exactly 30 times, so next week I will be talking about the shorter of those two. As always, I will leave you with a quote from that next movie: “Life is but an empty bubble.”

#ishtar #elaine may #warren beatty #dustin hoffman #the rewatch rewind

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the-rewatch-rewind · 8 months

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The most underrated 1980s teen movie

Script below the break

Hello and welcome back to the Rewatch Rewind! My name is Jane, and this is the podcast where I count down my top 40 most frequently rewatched movies in a 20-year period. Today I will be discussing number 10 on my list: Embassy Pictures and Monument Pictures’ 1985 adventure romantic comedy The Sure Thing, directed by Rob Reiner, written by Steve Bloom and Jonathan Roberts, and starring John Cusack and Daphne Zuniga.

In his first term at a small northeastern college, Walter Gibson (known as “Gib”, played by John Cusack) is frustrated with his sex life, or rather, lack thereof. So when his high school best friend Lance (Anthony Edwards) sends him a picture from UCLA of a beautiful woman (Nicollette Sheridan) and promises that she’s a “sure thing” – no questions asked, no strings attached, no guilt involved – Gib takes the first ride he can find to California for winter break, even though that means traveling with Alison Bradbury (Daphne Zuniga), who has already rejected his underhanded advances and is on her way to visit her boyfriend (Boyd Gaines). Gib and Alison’s constant fighting finally pushes the driver (“Gary Cooper, but not the Gary Cooper that’s dead,” played by Tim Robbins) to abandon them on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, and they are forced to find their own way to LA. Their adventures prompt them both to learn from each other and start to change for the better.

I remember not being very interested in this movie when my mom first got it from the library, and her really having to talk me into watching it. I think I was pleasantly surprised the first time, but it wasn’t until I rewatched it a couple years later that I truly appreciated it and became kind of obsessed for a while. I saw it for the first time in 2004, then eight times in 2006, three times in 2007, once in 2009, three times in 2010, once in 2011, once in 2012, once in 2013, once in 2015, once in 2016, twice in 2019, and twice in 2022. I would have watched it more in recent years, but for a while I only had it on VHS (my sister’s had it on DVD for several years but since we don’t live near each other I don’t have many options to watch her copy, so I did finally get my own DVD of it last year) and it’s very rarely available on streaming services. There was a major boom of teen movies in the 1980s, many of which are still considered classics now, but hardly anybody ever talks about The Sure Thing, and I have no idea why because it is truly delightful.

Most of the people involved in this movie were just starting their careers. Rob Reiner had only directed one movie (This is Spinal Tap) prior to this, and it was both writers’ first feature film, and it was John Cusack’s first starring role. So The Sure Thing has the charms of a low-budget project that everybody’s making because they want to, not because they think they’re going to get rich and famous from it, with the added bonus that many of the actors did become rich and famous later, so you can watch it and go, “Oh look, it’s Dr. Mark Greene from ER back when he had hair” or “Wow, is that a very young Tim Robbins?” But even if none of them had made anything else, this would still be a fun movie to watch because the writing and acting are incredible, especially when it comes to the two main characters’ arcs.

I know the dynamic of a buttoned-down, over-organized control freak paired with a spontaneous, go-with-the-flow goofball has been done to death, but no movie does it better than The Sure Thing. The characters of Gib and Alison are so well developed that they feel like real people rather than a tired trope. Even though it’s fairly obvious from the moment Alison enters the story that she and Gib are ultimately going to end up together, their journey toward that predictable conclusion is never dull. Part of that is because of the obstacles they encounter on their journey across the country, but the main reason is because they were perfectly cast. Apparently both John Cusack and Daphne Zuniga were a lot like their respective characters at the time and therefore brought a lot of themselves to their roles. The whole “shotgunning a beer” bit was added because Cusack mentioned that was something he could do, and that became an important way to show the evolution of their characters and relationship. Initially, Rob Reiner didn’t even want to consider Cusack for the part of Gib because he was a minor, but the casting directors talked him into giving the then 16-year-old a chance, and Cusack’s audition convinced the director that he was the perfect Gib. Producer Roger Birnbaum went to court to have John Cusack emancipated and served as his legal guardian during filming. It is a little uncomfortable to know that Cusack was only 17 at the time of filming while his love interests were 20 and 21 – like, I know the age gap is only a few years, but he was technically a minor and they were technically adults, although their characters were all meant to be 18 or 19, so it’s not like the movie is promoting inappropriate relationships. Yes, it definitely would have been better to cast someone who was over 18, but at the same time, John Cusack does such an incredible job playing this character that I totally understand why they went ahead and cast him anyway. He plays Gib with the perfect balance of kind of a jerk but still kind of sweet that keeps the audience rooting for him while still criticizing his bad behavior. And the way he and Zuniga play off each other is endlessly compelling.

One of my favorite scenes, not just in this movie but in any movie, is after Gib and Alison have been kicked out of the car and accidentally left all their cash in a hotel room, and they’re sitting on the side of a deserted road at night hoping to hitch a ride. Alison finds a stick of gum in her purse, unwraps it, and the second she’s about to put it in her mouth, Gib says, “I’m starving.” So Alison dutifully breaks the gum in half and splits it with him. Then he starts listing other complaints until she can’t take it anymore and snaps, “Can’t you try to look on the bright side?” which of course is the sky’s cue to start pouring rain. In their desperate search for shelter, they find a trailer, but there’s a padlock on the door. Gib starts frantically pounding at the lock, and Alison thinks she might have a nail file in her purse, so she starts searching, and suddenly finds something much better. She tells Gib, “I have a credit card!” He’s so focused on getting into the trailer that at first he doesn’t understand the implications of what she said, and his immediate response is, “Credit cards work on a completely different kind of lock!” And Alison says, “I don’t think you understand: I have a credit card!” “You have a credit card?” “I have a credit card.” “You have a credit card.” And then her face falls as she remembers: “Oh. My dad told me specifically that I can only use it in case of an emergency.” And he just looks at her, soaked from the pouring rain, and deadpans, “Well, maybe one will come up.” And it’s just…so good. The comedic timing between the two of them is utter perfection.

And they’re also very good at having serious moments together. Like right after that scene, when they’re in a fancy restaurant because it was the only place they could find that would take a credit card – oh how times have changed – Gib opens up about where his interest in outer space came from. Earlier in the movie, both with Alison and with other girls, he’s tried to use his knowledge of space and astronomy to impress/seduce women – not very effectively – but here he’s being vulnerable and genuine, and Alison’s reactions show that she recognizes and appreciates that. And then when they finally get to LA and separate, they both do such a great job of showing how much they have changed, while still remaining true to who their characters have been from the beginning. Alison starts to realize that her boyfriend Jason, whose idea of a good time is staying home, playing cards, and admiring the special hangers and flannel sheets, is not nearly as fun to be around as Gib. And after making such a deep personal connection with Alison, Gib starts to question whether an emotionless sexual encounter with the Sure Thing is really what he’s looking for. Neither of them say these things in so many words, but they make it abundantly clear how they’re feeling, and it’s very rewarding as an audience member to see the characters we’ve become so invested in reach that point in their journeys. But they’re also very mad at each other, mostly because they’ve fallen for each other against their will, and it isn’t until they somehow get back to the east coast (we never see how that happens, but I guess it’s not important) that they resolve this tension. And the way they reconcile through a paper that Gib has their English professor (played by Viveca Lindfors) read to the class is an amazing way end the movie. So basically, this is a story about two very well-written, perfectly cast characters who go on an extremely satisfying journey that is just as fun to watch the 20th time as the first.

Now, if you’ve listened to other episodes, or even just read the description of this podcast, you might be a little confused right now. “But Jane,” I can imagine you thinking, “Aren’t you aromantic and asexual? Isn’t this movie all about a character pursuing sex, and then coming to the very amatonormative conclusion that he should commit romantically and sexually to the one person he’s had an emotional connection with? Why would a movie like that be in your top 10?” And you know, those are fair questions. They’re the kinds of questions I asked myself a few years ago, when I suspected I might be aroace but wasn’t completely convinced. And an important step on my path to recognizing that that label truly described me was when I realized that I appreciate this movie from a very aroace perspective. For one thing, it always irked me that the movie ends with Gib and Alison kissing. “Why can’t they end up as friends?” my obliviously aromantic teenage self would lament during the years when I was watching this movie the most. But on the other hand, I had always appreciated the message that forming a genuine emotional connection with someone is more fulfilling than casual hookups with people you’ve lied to and manipulated to get them to sleep with you. So I liked the part about “sex isn’t actually the end all be all of human experience” but I disliked that the conclusion was “but finding a romantic partner is” – could there be a more aroace response to this movie?

And as I thought about it even more, I realized that, even though I’m positive that this was not the intention of any of the filmmakers, there is a way to interpret the character of Gib as being on the asexual spectrum. In the first half of the movie, he does appear to be in constant pursuit of sex, at least at first glance, but a lot of his attempts are kind of halfhearted. You get the feeling that he wants to be able to say he’s slept with a lot of people because his friends and society tell him that’s what will make him cool. He seems a lot happier and more comfortable when he’s stopped trying to seduce Alison, and ultimately, even though the Sure Thing is definitely willing to sleep with him, he decides he doesn’t want that anymore, despite having travelled across the country specifically to have sex with her. Obviously, there are a lot of different conclusions that could be drawn from this. I think a big one is that people who are socialized as boys, regardless of whether they’re asexual or not, are often given a very toxic and unhealthy message about what their sex lives should be like, including the idea that women are objects to be tricked into providing momentary pleasure, and that having lots of sex is what makes you a real man. So it’s rather refreshing to see a coming of age story that shows a young man maturing by actively choosing not to have sex with a woman who is given no name, and is only identified by her willingness to put out. And in some ways I don’t want to encourage the headcanon that Gib is asexual because I think it’s important to show that allosexual men are allowed to say “no” when it doesn’t feel right, and that that doesn’t make them less of a man. But I also think the disconnect between how Gib is expected to feel about the Sure Thing and how he actually feels when he meets her is very relatable to asexual people. Society’s messages about how “normal” people feel about sex and sexual attraction are very confusing to people who don’t feel that way. And I guess what this movie is trying to say is that some of those messages don’t apply even to allosexual people. I just wish it didn’t perpetuate the amatonormative message that sex and romance are vital aspects of the most important relationship in everyone’s lives. In the story that Gib writes to reveal to Alison that he didn’t sleep with the Sure Thing, he reveals that she asked, “Do you love me?” and that for the first time in his life, he knew that those were more than just words, and that if he said it, it would be a lie, so he said no and left. And again, part of that feels very amatonormative, but at the same time, the whole idea of being true to yourself and honest with any prospective partners is a good message for people of all romantic and sexual orientations.

I still hope to find a movie about a journey like this in which the leading man and woman explicitly end up as friends (let me know if you’re aware of one), but I can almost be content imagining that soon after the events of this movie, Gib and Alison realize that they don’t actually like kissing each other but remain BFFs. Hey, it could happen! But that was definitely not the intent, and if you like cute 80s teen romance movies, The Sure Thing is definitely one to check out – if you can track it down. Don’t let my weird aromantic headcanon ruin your appreciation for this romance. I’m not saying this movie was made for aroace people by any means; my point is that realizing I was enjoying this movie in a very aroace way helped me come to the conclusion that I am aroace. And it’s also a great movie aside from all that, as one would expect from this director and cast.

Thank you for listening to me discuss another of my most frequently rewatched films. The Sure Thing was the only movie I watched exactly 26 times in the 20 years I was tracking, and I didn’t watch any exactly 27 times, so next week I will be talking about the movie I watched 28 times, which is widely – and extremely incorrectly – regarded as one of the worst movies ever made. So that should be a fun episode. As always, I will leave you with a quote from that next movie: “Forget ‘herb.’ I never heard of a hit that had the word ‘herb’ in it.”

#the sure thing #rob reiner #john cusack #daphne zuniga #the rewatch rewind

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the-rewatch-rewind · 8 months

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Time for another new episode!

Script below the break.

Hello and welcome back to The Rewatch Rewind! My name is Jane, and this is the podcast where I count down my top 40 most frequently rewatched movies in a 20-year period. Today I will be discussing number 11 on my list: MGM’s 1959 spy thriller North by Northwest, directed by Alfred Hitchcock, written by Ernest Lehman, and starring Cary Grant, Eva Marie Saint, and James Mason.

New York advertising man Roger Thornhill (Cary Grant) is mistaken for government agent George Kaplan by men working for foreign spy Phillip Vandamm (James Mason). Their initial attempt to rub him out is unsuccessful, but nobody believes Roger’s story, and he is forced to go on the run when Vandamm’s men make it look like he committed murder. Roger sneaks onto the 20th Century Limited train to Chicago, where he runs into a beautiful young lady named Eve Kendall (Eva Marie Saint) who helps him hide from the police. But when instructions that Eve claims she received from the elusive George Kaplan nearly get him killed, Roger begins to suspect that she is also working for Vandamm. And if you haven’t seen this movie, I would recommend watching it before listening because it has an absolute roller coaster of a plot and I will be spoiling most of the twists.

As I mentioned in the Notorious episode, North by Northwest was the first Hitchcock movie I ever saw. I was kind of hesitant to watch it because I had heard that Hitchcock made scary movies, and I’ve never been into horror. But my mom assured me that this one was more of a mystery adventure and wasn’t actually that scary, so I gave it a try and was immediately hooked. I watched it three times in 2004, once in 2005, once in 2009, four times in 2010, three times in 2011, once in 2012, 2013, and 2014, twice in 2015, twice in 2017, once in 2019, twice in 2020, once in 2021, and twice in 2022. This, like His Girl Friday, was one of the films I wrote a paper about in my Film as Literature class, so that explains why I watched it so often in 2010. I used to always include it in my Cary Grant birthday marathon, but in more recent years I’ve tended to save it for Eva Marie Saint’s birthday, which happens to be the 4th of July – an appropriate day to watch a movie featuring American landmarks. Some years I watch it on both their birthdays. And when I don’t, I often watch it on Alfred Hitchcock’s birthday, because even now that I’ve seen over 40 of his films, the first one I watched is still my favorite. There is a part of me that wants to have a more obscure favorite – North by Northwest is, after all, one of his most famous films, and therefore a very basic choice. Even people who have never seen it tend to be at least vaguely familiar with the crop-dusting scene and the chase across Mount Rushmore. It seems like a movie that somebody who hasn’t seen many Hitchcock films would claim as their favorite Hitchcock film. But I’ve watched it 25 times and still can’t get over how good it is, so, basic or not, I love this movie, and I’m pretty sure it will always be one of my favorite movies in general, not just among this particular director’s work.

And I mean, obviously, a big part of that is because of Cary Grant. If I had to pick one movie that most perfectly displays everything I love about Cary Grant, I’d have to go with North by Northwest. In this movie, he’s simultaneously a comedian, a romantic lead, an action hero, and a confused victim of circumstance. His character is upset by all the awful things that happen to him but remains relatively unfazed and undaunted. He’s suave and sophisticated but also goofy and relatable. I love every moment of his performance. As always, he’s at his best when he’s being funny, so one of my favorite parts is when Roger is trying to escape from an art auction when Vandamm and his cronies have sealed off the exits, so he starts calling out ridiculous numbers, hoping someone will call the police to have him removed from the premises. Grant does such a great job of being disruptive in the most charming but silly way possible, relieving some of the tension without completely derailing the suspenseful tone of the story, and it’s so perfect. But he also plays the darker moments very well. In a lot of my other favorite Cary Grant movies, you can’t ever really take anything his character says at face value because he’s always joking or at least being a little sarcastic. In this movie, while Roger takes most things in his stride and doesn’t let them throw him too much, there are moments when he’s truly hurt or stunned, and he plays them very believably. It’s kind of jarring, in a good way, to see a man who is mostly poised despite all the chaos around him, actually get thrown off balance occasionally. Roger Thornhill generally doesn’t take himself or the world too seriously, but his tolerance for bullshit does have limits, and it’s interesting to see how he acts when he’s beyond tired of going with the flow. A lot of Hitchcock’s films start to feel kind of tedious after two or three watches because once you know where it’s leading, the building of suspense loses some of its intensity and can feel kind of draggy. But, aside from the fact that you kind of need to watch this one a few times to fully understand its convoluted plot, I could watch Cary Grant playing Roger Thornhill for ages without getting tired of it, which is one of the reasons I keep revisiting this one.

But I can’t give Grant all the credit. Every performance in this movie is excellent. James Mason is a delectably menacing Phillip Vandamm, and Jessie Royce Landis brings some welcome levity toward the beginning as Roger’s mother. And, of course, there’s Eva Marie Saint, who, as I alluded to at the end of last episode, is, at the time of recording, as far as I know, still alive at 99, making her the oldest living Oscar winner. She didn’t win an Oscar for North by Northwest – she won for her film debut in On the Waterfront five years earlier – but boy does she give a fascinating performance in this movie. She doesn’t even show up until about 45 minutes in, and at first her character just seems like a sexy love interest for Roger, who has had a very rough 45 minutes’ worth of story and could use a break. But then it’s revealed that oh no, she’s working for Vandamm! And then it’s like, but is she really? Wait, she’s actually spying on Vandamm! But then she shoots Roger? Oh, just kidding, they were blanks, she’s still a good guy, never mind. And now she’s in danger! The audience’s perception of Eve changes so many times that it must have been very difficult to keep track of how she needed to come across in each scene, but Saint absolutely nails it. She’s perfectly mysterious and even sinister when she needs to be, but easily transitions to open and vulnerable and likable when the audience is supposed to be rooting for her. It’s an extremely complicated role and it absolutely could not have been played better. And the way she and Grant interact throughout these transitions is brilliant. Roger’s perceptions of Eve follow a similar path to the audience’s, but not quite at the same time. For instance, while Roger and Eve are together in her train compartment, we see a porter deliver a note to Vandamm from her that says, “What should I do with him in the morning?” Which, on the one hand, is kind of weird, because like, how are they supposed to get a response back to her without Roger seeing it? But the purpose of that is obviously to show the audience that – gasp – Eve is not just some random woman Roger happened to run into; she’s involved in this somehow! But Roger doesn’t begin to suspect her until after he’s been crop-dusted and the hotel clerk tells him that George Kaplan checked out before he supposedly gave Eve instructions on where to meet him. So there’s a whole section when the audience knows something Roger doesn’t. But then later the opposite happens, when Eve shoots Roger during the confrontation in the Mount Rushmore cafeteria – both Roger and Eve know it’s fake, but the audience doesn’t until later.

The way the movie so deliberately and gradually reveals information to the audience is fascinating even when you’ve seen it a bunch of times and already know what’s coming. And while this required the brilliant performances of Cary Grant and Eva Marie Saint to be effective, I have to give major props to screenwriter Ernest Lehman for crafting such a well-told narrative. (He also wrote the screenplay for The Sound of Music, which I mention just to give an idea of the wide range of his talent.) This story is ridiculously complex, and while not all of the details quite hold up under scrutiny, overall the important storylines track remarkably well upon rewatch. I can’t claim this movie is perfect because it does feature one of my all-time favorite movie mistakes, although I didn’t notice it until Eva Marie Saint herself pointed it out in a DVD special feature, but now I can’t watch this movie without noticing it. In the scene with the fake shooting, right as she pulls out the gun, there’s a boy in the background who plugs his ears, even though nobody is supposed to know that she’s going to actually fire it. It seems very odd that someone with as much attention to detail as Hitchcock would have allowed that to end up in the final cut, but it makes me smile every time. And there are definitely several aspects of the story that don’t really make a lot of sense if you think about them too hard. But again, the story is so complex and is told so well overall that poking holes in it just feels pedantic. If anything, its flaws make me love it all the more.

While this movie is decidedly neither aromantic nor asexual, it does portray romance and sex in a somewhat unusual way. The character of Eve Kendall is rather similar to Alicia Huberman in Notorious, in that they both use sex for spy purposes – the main difference being that we never have any doubts about which side Alicia is on. As I’ve mentioned in previous episodes, characters faking sexual attraction to use sex for personal or political gain makes more sense to me as an asexual person than characters expressing genuine feelings of sexual attraction, which might explain why, in general, the movies that have made it into my top 40 that include sexual content tend to feature ulterior motives behind the sex. Eve does develop real feelings for Roger, but in order to keep Vandamm from suspecting her, she has to pretend she only slept with Roger under Vandamm’s orders, which adds an intriguing layer to the whole situation. Another interesting thing about North by Northwest, especially when compared with Notorious, is that while production codes were still in effect in 1959, they were clearly starting to relax. Notorious was as explicit as it was allowed to be, but all the sexual activity is cloaked in innuendo, however thin. No modern audience would consider North by Northwest a sexually explicit movie, but at least the characters could say that they had sex. In Notorious, when Alex finds out that Alicia is a spy, he berates himself for “believing in her with her clinging kisses” but nothing more risqué than that, whereas in North by Northwest, Roger vents about Eve “using sex like some people use a flyswatter.” As an Old Hollywood fan, I find it endlessly fascinating to see what content was allowed when, and as James and I discussed in the Notorious episode, Hitchcock loved to push the envelope. So while there’s no nudity or anything like that in this movie, there is definitely clear sexual content. And while I wouldn’t go so far as to claim that any of the characters is asexual, there is at least one who is very strongly implied to be gay. Leonard, played by Martin Landau, is Vandamm’s right hand man who seems to have a thing for Vandamm. He’s accused of being jealous that Vandamm likes Eve, and he refers to his own “woman’s intuition.” The rules may have been relaxing around discussions of heterosexual activities, but references to homosexuality still weren’t allowed to be more overt than that. Still, I think we can safely claim Leonard as LGBT+ representation. Landau himself was very open about intentionally playing him as gay, which both Hitchcock and Lehman supported.

Hitchcock also pushed the envelope with this movie in ways unrelated to sexual content. For example, he was refused permission to film the outside of the United Nations building, but he went ahead and did it anyway, from a camera hidden in a truck across the street. Similarly, the government didn’t want to allow the climactic chase across Mount Rushmore, as they felt it was disrespectful. This was finally allowed under the conditions that they didn’t film on the real monument, and that the characters never climbed across the presidents’ faces. They were allowed to film the shooting-with-blanks scene in the Memorial View Building in the park, but the monument they climb down during the climax was a model on a soundstage – which was probably much safer than filming on the actual mountain anyway. Although Eva Marie Saint did slip and bang her elbow, which made it into the movie. Personally, I think the best part of that chase scene is the music, written by Bernard Herrmann, who also wrote the scores for six other Hitchcock movies, including the iconic screeching Psycho theme. The North by Northwest theme is somewhat less well known, but it’s very intense and adventurous, and it greatly enhances the climax. Definitely the perfect “escaping from desperate enemy spies who are trying to kill you” song, and that scene in particular would be significantly less effective without it.

Not to constantly be harping on about people’s ages, but I must point out that Jessie Royce Landis, who plays Cary Grant’s mother in this movie, was only seven years older than him, while Eva Marie Saint, who plays his love interest, was 20 years younger than him. Much as I love this cast and wouldn’t want to see any of them replaced, it’s still rather upsetting to me that a 55-year-old man can still play the lead, while a 62-year-old woman is relegated to the minor “mother” role. She does get one of the best lines in the movie (“You gentlemen aren’t REALLY trying to kill my son, are you?”), but she doesn’t have nearly enough screentime. More good roles for older actresses, please! Also, Eve Kendall says she’s 26 when Eva Marie Saint was really 35, and I don’t understand why they felt the need to pretend she was so much younger. Couldn’t they have just let her character be in her 30s? That would have made her relationships with men in their 50s at least a little less creepy. But maybe the creepiness was the point. Or maybe Grant and Mason were meant to be playing younger characters too. Anyway, the ages may be all wrong, but the performances are all perfect, and that’s what really matters.

Ultimately, I think the main reason this is my most frequently rewatched Hitchcock movie boils down to the fact that even when the suspense is no longer effectively suspenseful, it’s still a very fun movie to watch. Intense things happen, but overall the tone isn’t nearly as dark as most of his other films. And so much is going on that there are always more details to be noticed. And again, if nothing else, Cary Grant is there being Cary Grant.

Speaking of which, you may recall that way back when Grant made his first appearance on this podcast, in #33, Holiday, I mentioned that he was going to appear in 10 movies on this list. Since then, I’ve talked about him in Monkey Business, Father Goose, Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House, Bringing Up Baby, Notorious, His Girl Friday, and The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer, which means North by Northwest is his ninth movie on here. Somehow he only made it into one of the top 10, and it is number one, so I won’t be talking about him again for a while. Funnily enough, each of the four actors who appear in at least four of my top 40 most rewatched films – Grant, Katharine Hepburn, Ginger Rogers, and Julie Andrews – is in exactly one of my top 10. So stay tuned for my favorite movie that each of them made. I cannot believe I’m three-quarters of the way through this list already. Thank you so much to those of you who have listened to every episode since the beginning of this project, and to those of you who have only listened to this episode, and to those of you who have listened to a few episodes here and there. I am so grateful that anyone is interested in what I have to say about these movies that I love. I hope you will enjoy the final quarter, which will begin with a movie that is quite different from anything I’ve talked about thus far, although it does involve travelling across the United States so it’s a little like North by Northwest, except not. Anyway, as always, I will leave you with a quote from that next movie: “Thoughts raced through his mind. Did she really want him? What had he done to deserve this bounty? Does God exist? Who invented liquid soap and why?”

#north by northwest #alfred hitchcock #cary grant #eva marie saint #the rewatch rewind

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the-rewatch-rewind · 8 months

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New episode!

Script below the break.

Hello and welcome back to the Rewatch Rewind! My name is Jane, and this is the podcast where I count down my top 40 most frequently rewatched movies in a 20-year period. Today I will be discussing number 12 on my list: RKO and Vanguard Films’ 1947 comedy The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer, directed by Irving Reis, written by Sidney Sheldon, and starring Cary Grant, Myrna Loy, and Shirley Temple.

This movie is kind of like the Major and the Minor in that it has an incredibly bizarre premise and absolutely would not be made today but is somehow way better than it has any right to be. There is so much going on that I don’t even know how to summarize the plot concisely in a way that will make sense to people who haven’t seen it, but I’ll try.

Judge Margaret Turner (Myrna Loy) is the guardian of her 17-year-old sister Susan (Shirley Temple), who thinks she sentences people too harshly. Perhaps slightly influenced by this, when artist Richard Nugent (Cary Grant) comes before her charged with starting a brawl, she lets him off with a warning, against the urging of assistant district attorney Tommy Chamberlain (Rudy Vallee). That same afternoon, Richard is the guest lecturer at Susan’s school, and she immediately develops a crush on him. After interviewing him for the school paper, Susan decides she needs to model for him, so that evening she gets into his apartment when he’s not there. As soon as he discovers her, Margaret and Tommy show up, assuming Richard was trying to seduce Susan. Richard ends up in jail after punching Tommy. When it becomes clear how deeply Susan has fallen for Richard, the court psychiatrist, Dr. Matt Beemish (Ray Collins), who also happens to be Margaret and Susan’s uncle, convinces the ADA to drop the charges if Richard agrees to date Susan until her infatuation wears off. And then of course, Richard and Margaret start to develop feelings for each other.

I don’t really remember my first impressions of this movie. I think the rest of my family watched it without me before I’d seen it, but I can’t remember if I was busy doing something else or just wasn’t interested. But it didn’t take long for me to start loving it, and that love has never really faded. I watched it twice in 2003, three times in 2004, once in 2005, once in 2006, once in 2009, twice in 2010, three times in 2011, once in 2012, 2013, and each year from 2015 through 2021, and three times in 2022. I’m pretty sure I had also seen it in 2002, because I remember being very into it in 7th grade, which was the 2002-2003 school year. I was in a writing class with one of my best friends, in which we got to write a play together. I must have shown this movie to her by then because we would quote the “You remind me of a man.” “What man?” “The man with the power.” “What power?” “The power of hoodoo.” “Hoodoo?” “You do.” “Do what?” “Remind me of a man.” “What man?” “The man with the power…” etc circular routine so frequently that we had to put it in our play. Now I know that that has also been referenced in other media, but as far as I can tell, it originated in The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer.

In addition to inventing that silly routine, this script also invented fake slang that I love. Susan likes to say that she’s feeling “sklonklish,” which seems to mean too tired to do anything, which is very much a mood. And then there’s the iconic “Mellow Greetings, Ukie-Dukie” that Susan’s former (and future) boyfriend Jerry White (played by Johnny Sands) teaches Richard, which has been the header on my main Tumblr blog since I started it in 2012. In fact, if you can get past the whole “a court would never order a middle-aged man to date a teenaged girl, wtf” of it all, this movie’s script is surprisingly fabulous, full of great one-line zingers and thoroughly engaging conversations between well-developed characters and several iconic scenes. Sidney Sheldon won an Oscar for the screenplay, which I still kind of can’t believe because goofy movies like this don’t tend to win Academy Awards, but it was definitely deserved. The writing is so excellent that it not only pulls off the ridiculous premise, but it almost makes you forget that the premise was ridiculous in the first place. The characters are written so believably that you don’t want to question them. There are so many great scenes throughout, and the part in the restaurant where it seems like Richard and Margaret might finally get on the same page but keep getting interrupted by more and more characters showing up and the waiters singing “Happy Birthday” and “Happy Anniversary” to a bunch of different people, is still one of the best comedic drama scenes I’ve ever seen.

The script was already incredible on the page, and then it was brought to life by the perfect cast. I’ve already talked about one Cary Grant/Myrna Loy pairing, Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House, which was made the year after The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer, and they are equally delightful together in both, although their characters’ dynamic could not have been more different. In Mr. Blandings, while their relationship has some ups and downs, they’re married to each other the whole time, whereas in Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer they embark on a mutual-contempt-to-mutual-admiration journey. And they both play every stage of their relationship flawlessly. They have incredible chemistry, both romantic and comedic, so their scenes together are beautifully entertaining. And then there’s Shirley Temple. This was toward the end of her film career, and you can kind of tell that the studios didn’t really know what to do with her now that she wasn’t a little girl anymore. In many of her earlier films, she played an orphan who managed to charm grumpy older men, and again in this movie she plays an orphan, but now that she’s a teenager, enchanting adults isn’t cute anymore. The older man needs to find it annoying that she’s trying to charm him, otherwise it would be creepy. I’m sure it must have been frustrating for 19-year-old Temple to be essentially typecast in the same kind of role she’d been playing since she was a toddler, except now she’s the obstacle to the main love story rather than the star. But by golly, she sells the heck out of it anyway. She gives Susan the exact blend of silliness and earnestness required to make the character and the story work. She has a very believable sisterly dynamic with Myrna Loy, even though Loy was definitely old enough to be her mother. It’s unclear what their characters’ age gap is supposed to be – we know that Margaret is an established judge while Susan is still in high school, so they have to be pretty far apart, which is kind of odd because Margaret tells Richard that their parents didn’t get married until they were both out of law school, so they must have been rather old when Susan was born, but let’s not overthink it too much. Margaret is clearly torn between trying to be a sister and parent figure to Susan, who doesn’t seem at all interested in making that easier on Margaret, and I love the way Myrna Loy and Shirley Temple play within that tension.

And then there’s the way Susan interacts with Richard. She thinks he’s the most wonderful person she’s ever seen and is initially awestruck. There’s this great moment when they first meet and she dares to lightly touch his arm, and then looks like that’s the most fantastic thing she’s ever done. And then she decides she’s deeply in love with him, and when they start going out, she’s convinced they’re going to end up together. Richard never really knows what to make of Susan, but he tries to keep up with her as best he can. One of my favorite scenes is when Susan is interviewing Richard, and he starts out just giving her vague, bland answers, but when she keeps insisting that he must have had a very interesting life, he starts making up a super dramatic backstory. She hangs on his every word, absolutely eating it up. At one point, he tells her that he used to steal, and she breathlessly asks, “What did you steal?” Richard’s line is “crusts of bread and things,” but Cary Grant gives one of my favorite line deliveries of all time. He starts with saying “crusts of bread” kind of normally, but then he pauses dramatically, leans forward, and puts a lot of emphasis on “and THINGS” and then does this amazing little nod and I love it so much. “Crusts of bread… and THINGS” is one of those random movie lines I quote a lot and nobody knows what I’m talking about. Anyway, there are a bunch of other very entertaining moments between Richard and Susan, like when they’re watching the high school basketball game and Susan’s really getting into the cheers, and at the end of one, she looks at Richard expectantly, so he just goes, “Rah!” with mock enthusiasm, which seems to satisfy her. And of course there’s the “mellow greetings, ukie-dukie” scene when they’re both just saying nonsense fake slang but making it sound like a real conversation. They absolutely should not be dating, but I really enjoy the aspects of their relationship that don’t involve Susan trying to make something romantic happen. I can definitely see them having a fun sibling-in-law dynamic in the future.

It’s funny because I feel like this movie is one of the main things that made me think that I did have a crush on Cary Grant, and it was also one of the main things that convinced me that I didn’t. In my teens and early 20s, I claimed that I loved this movie because I related to Susan having a hopeless crush on Cary Grant. But eventually I realized that I was relating more to the part toward the end when Susan finally realizes that she actually doesn’t like Richard that way. In Susan’s case, it’s because she’s better suited for Jerry, who is literally perfect for her – they talk the same way and have the exact same attitude toward life, and he cares about her so much that he even organizes a group of friends to make Richard win an obstacle race because he knows it will make Susan happy. In my case, it meant facing the fact that I was probably never going to like anyone that way, despite society’s myths about soulmates and amatonormativity and such, which is perhaps why it took me decades to figure out what Susan learned in a few days. This movie, like most, is very amatonormative, but I think it does a pretty good job of demonstrating that being in awe of someone is not the same thing as being in love with them. The first time Susan sees Richard, she imagines him in shining armor, and immediately puts him on a pedestal. Even if there hadn’t been an inappropriate age difference between them, that kind of relationship is not sustainable. Margaret, too, imagines Richard in armor, but that’s after she’s gotten to know him. She initially saw him as a common criminal, then saw him briefly as a gallant knight, and is mature enough to conclude that he’s just a normal person in between those two, and that’s part of why I feel like their relationship has a future.

While I love most of the characters in this movie, there are two that bother me. One is Dr. Beemish, aka Uncle Matt, and the other is Tommy Chamberlain, aka the assistant district attorney. Dr. Beemish does play an important role in getting Richard and Margaret together, but I don’t know why he has to be so slimy about it. Part of what I don’t like about him is he’s way too focused on Margaret getting married. Before Richard even enters the story, Matt responds to Margaret putting on her judge’s robes with, “Exit woman, enter judge. More’s the pity.” And it’s just like, excuse me, she can be a judge and a woman! It feels like the movie was trying to say, “We’re progressive, but not that progressive” and I hate it. Although Matt does add at the end of that scene that he’s more interested in making sure she marries the right man than making sure she gets married at all, which I guess is nice, though I’m not sure why he’s appointed himself in charge of that. Margaret can find the right man for herself. But to be fair, he did say that in response to Tommy giving her a present, which, like, I’m sorry, but it seems very weird to me that Tommy and Margaret are kind of sort of dating at the beginning of the movie. Like, I’m not an expert on judiciary ethics, but an assistant district attorney dating a judge feels like a major conflict of interest. I guess the idea was that if they got married, she would just… quit? I don’t know, but I don’t like it, which is why I forgive Uncle Matt for trying to steer Margaret away from Tommy and toward Richard. I do think Dr. Beemish should lose his job, and possibly his medical license, for telling the police that Tommy’s a mental patient of his who thinks he’s an assistant district attorney, even though that scene is very funny and Tommy does kind of deserve it. What I’m trying to say is, this movie is far from perfect, but none of its flaws make me love it any less.

I do think it’s a little ironic that this movie made such a big deal about how inappropriate it would be for Cary Grant to date someone as much younger than him as Shirley Temple was, and then in Father Goose he played opposite Leslie Caron, who was born three years after Shirley Temple was. I mean, that movie was made 17 years after Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer, and as I mentioned in that episode, age gaps are significantly less disturbing when the younger partner is over 30. But still. Given that Cary Grant would now be 119 years old, it’s kind of wild to me that some of his costars are still alive. (Shirley Temple is sadly not one of them, rest in peace, but Leslie Caron is.) But at least in this movie, Grant’s main leading lady was only a year younger than him. I also think it’s kind of funny that the movie establishes that Richard is 18 years older than Susan, when Grant was actually 24 years older than Temple, especially because Susan was two years younger than Temple. It just goes to show that Hollywood has been messing with people’s perceptions of age for a very long time. I’ve always been more interested in age from a numerical perspective than an existential perspective, and I often forget that most people in this society view aging past adulthood as inherently negative, at least until one reaches a particularly impressive old age. As of this week, I am over a third of the way to 100 years old, which realistically probably means I’m more than a third of the way through my life, but my brain is far more interested in going, “Ooh, 33.33333…infinite threes!” than pondering my mortality. But I’ve learned that that is unusual, and a lot of people get offended if you bring up their age, which is part of why I tend to focus my interest in people’s ages on past movie stars who are either deceased or beyond the point where age becomes a badge of honor again.

Anyway, thank you for spending some of your limited time on earth listening to me discuss another of my most frequently rewatched movies. Next week I’ll be talking about the other Cary Grant movie I watched 25 times while I was keeping track, which is one in which he starred opposite an actress who was significantly younger than him, although she was born a few years before Shirley Temple, and who is, knock on wood, as far as I know at the time of recording, currently the oldest living Oscar winner. So stay tuned, and as always, I will leave you with a quote from that next movie: “Seven parking tickets.”

#the bachelor and the bobby-soxer #cary grant #myrna loy #shirley temple #the rewatch rewind

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I love Poe Party too much to feel like any words will do it justice, but I keep trying.

Script below the break.

Hello and welcome back to the Rewatch Rewind! My name is Jane, and this is the podcast where I count down my top 40 most frequently rewatched movies of the last 20 years. And today I will be discussing number 13 on my list: Shipwrecked Comedy and American Black Market’s 2016 mystery comedy Edgar Allan Poe’s Murder Mystery Dinner Party, directed by William J Stribling, written by Sean Persaud and Sinéad Persaud, starring Sean Persaud, Sinéad Persaud, Mary Kate Wiles, Sarah Grace Hart, Joey Richter, Lauren Lopez, Ashley Clements, Tom de Trinis, Blake Silver, and a whole bunch of other incredibly talented and underrated actors.

Edgar Allan Poe (Sean Persaud) wishes to impress the beautiful Annabel Lee (Mary Kate Wiles), so he enlists the help of his ghost roommate Lenore (Sinéad Persaud) to throw a murder mystery party for Annabel and a group of famous authors. But then guests start actually being murdered.

So, first of all, I realize that this isn’t technically a movie; it’s an 11-episode webseries available to watch for free on YouTube, which you should absolutely pause this podcast to do if you haven’t seen it yet (link in the show notes). But there is a feature cut that’s about an hour and 45 minutes long, and that’s what I counted as a movie. If I’d kept track of the number of times I watched each episode, I’m sure that even my least-watched episode would easily beat number one on this list. But as for the feature cut, I watched it 12 times in 2017, three times in 2018, four times in 2019, twice in 2020, and three times in 2021. To a certain extent, every movie on the Rewatch Rewind has changed my life in some way, but this one has changed my life to a degree that I would never have believed possible. Every single day of the last seven plus years of my life would have looked different if not for Edgar Allan Poe’s Murder Mystery Dinner Party. All of the guests I have had on this podcast who are not my siblings, I met either directly or indirectly because of this show. So fasten your seatbelts: this episode is going to be a ride.

My journey to Edgar Allan Poe’s Murder Mystery Dinner Party, or Poe Party for short, or Edgar Allan Poe’s Murder Mystery Invite-Only Casual Dinner Party/Gala for Friends Potluck for long, began years before the project itself was even written. In the late 2000s-early 2010s, my sister was relatively plugged into the YouTube scene, at least compared to me, and she first introduced me to a group called Team Starkid around 2009-2010-ish. At the time, they were a bunch of college theater kids who had put together a Harry Potter parody musical and on a whim posted it to YouTube, where it went viral, so they started making and posting other musicals – which they are still doing. I feel like I might still have discovered Poe Party if I hadn’t been a Starkid fan, but that definitely helped. A more crucial step on my road to Poe Party started on April 9, 2012, when my sister posted a link to a new YouTube video on my Facebook wall, with the message, “Fictional vlogs by Lizzie Bennet. (actually Hank Green.) There’s only one so far, but I’m kind of crazily excited for this!” Hank Green, of course, along with his brother John, is basically one of the fathers of YouTube. I don’t think I’d seen a ton of their videos at that point, but I was familiar with and liked them. And of course, I knew Lizzie Bennet was the main character in Pride and Prejudice, a story that I loved very much – more on that in a future episode. So I was also very excited for this new show, called The Lizzie Bennet Diaries, but I could not have imagined the intense emotional journey it would take me on, through two short episodes a week (plus spinoffs) for almost a year. There had never been a TV show that I was more invested in than LBD. I was double majoring in college and working part time, but the main thing I cared about was these modern Pride and Prejudice characters. The show was clearly very low-budget, but I was blown away by the writing and acting. I was particularly impressed by the person playing Lizzie, Ashley Clements, and the person playing Lydia, Mary Kate Wiles. And, like, it wasn’t just me – LBD had a huge following for what it was. Not, like, millions of fans, but hundreds of thousands by the end. As the finale approached, the producers launched a Kickstarter to release the show on DVD and – ostensibly – pay significantly more to the cast and crew who had been incredibly underpaid. If you’re at all interested in hearing more about that, I highly recommend checking out The Look Back Diaries on Ashley Clements’s YouTube channel; she just did a whole deep dive into the show and its aftermath in honor of its 10th anniversary that I found fascinating. But anyway, coincidentally, right around that same time, Starkid also launched their first Kickstarter, since most of them had graduated from college and no longer had access to the same resources but wanted to keep making more musicals. So they were raising money for Twisted, a Wicked-style villain redemption retelling of Aladdin, which sounded interesting. I had never pledged to a Kickstarter before, but I backed both the LBD DVDs and Twisted on the same day: March 25, 2013, according to my emails.

After that, I kept following Starkid and some of the cast members of LBD, but not particularly closely. In early 2014, Mary Kate Wiles was in a webseries called Kissing in the Rain that I think I watched part of at the time, and I thought it was fine, but I wasn’t particularly into it (imagine, me, an aromantic, not particularly into a show about kissing!) and there was a lot of other stuff going on in my life so I honestly can’t remember if I saw all of it when it was first coming out. I definitely couldn’t have told you that it was on a channel called Shipwrecked, or even the name of the actor she was kissing. But in May of 2014, a new Kickstarter launched for a series called Muzzled the Musical, which was going to feature several cast members from LBD as well as Joey Richter from Team Starkid (Lauren Lopez also ended up being in it but I don’t think that was known during the Kickstarter). And I thought, whoa, cool, worlds colliding, and backed it. And promptly all but forgot about it.

A lot of strange, confusing, and rather upsetting things happened in 2015 that I don’t really want to get too deep into here, but I will say that in hindsight most of them had to do with a combination of amatonormativity and heteronormativity, and I started feeling pretty bad about myself. Before then I had managed to convince myself that I was too young to seriously fall in love anyway, but suddenly I was 25 years old and had never had any interest in dating anyone, and I felt like there was definitely something wrong with me. I didn’t exactly want to change, since I liked not dating, but I had always thought that that would just automatically change when I got older, and facing the fact that it wasn’t changing meant facing the fact that I didn’t know what the point of my life was. I liked my job but I didn’t want it to be my sole purpose. I loved movies, but that didn’t feel like it mattered. All my life I had taken in the message that finding a spouse and creating a family was what made the struggle of life worth it, and I felt lazy for not even trying to pursue that. I remember hearing at some point in my late teens that if you didn’t find your significant other in college, you needed to look online, but I didn’t even know what I would be looking for. And I truly don’t know where this line of thinking would have ended up if it had gone on much longer uninterrupted – I may have discovered my identity a bit sooner, or I may have ended up hurting someone by trying to pursue a relationship I ultimately didn’t want, or I may have just continued to spiral – but what actually happened was I got an email in late October that that random fantasy musical series I had backed on Kickstarter a year and a half earlier was being released on YouTube.

So I watched Muzzled, and it was very fun and silly, but the main thing I got out of it was, man I miss the Lizzie Bennet Diaries. So I finally opened that DVD set I’d gotten from the Kickstarter, and I binge-watched the whole show (I didn’t count it as a movie because there’s no feature cut, and also it is very long). And then I re-watched the whole thing with the DVD-exclusive commentary. And then I thought, I wonder what this cast has been up to lately, so I started searching for them on YouTube. And that’s when I learned that Mary Kate Wiles had been posting two videos per week on her channel for years, and I had been missing it. As I got caught up on her videos, I learned that I had just missed a Kickstarter for a musical she was going to be in called Spies are Forever, made by the Tin Can Brothers, which were a group of people who were also involved with Starkid, and that she seemed to be getting ready for a new Kickstarter with a group called Shipwrecked Comedy, the same people who had made that kissing show. They had also made a show called A Tell Tale Vlog about Edgar Allan Poe and the valley girl ghost Lenore who was haunting him, in which Poe had been played by Sean Persaud (the guy from Kissing in the Rain, who was apparently dating Mary Kate in real life) and his sister Sinéad (who was in the second half of Kissing in the Rain, which I definitely hadn’t watched before). Mary Kate had made a brief appearance in A Tell Tale Vlog as Annabel Lee, and this new show was going to be related to that, but bigger. I was so intrigued by this new project that I started supporting Mary Kate on Patreon to ensure that I didn’t miss any updates about it.

The Poe Party Kickstarter launched on February 2, 2016. By then, I had watched and enjoyed everything on Shipwrecked’s YouTube channel, but that Kickstarter video was my favorite thing they had made. I initially pledged the same amount that I had given to the Lizzie Bennet DVDs, thinking that would be my final pledge, but I ended up giving almost six times that much by the end of the campaign. Every $5,000 they raised, they revealed a new character and cast member with a poster, and each reveal made me more excited. Joey Richter was playing Ernest Hemingway?! Ashley Clements was playing Charlotte Brontë?! Lauren Lopez, who frequently played male characters, was playing George Eliot, a woman with a male pen name?! They got Jim O’Heir from Parks & Rec?! And then, as if the reveals weren’t enough, they had weekly 4-hour livestreams that I found incredibly entertaining. It had become clear that Shipwrecked Comedy now consisted of four people: Sean, Sinéad, Mary Kate, and Sarah Grace Hart, who had played Emily Dickinson in a stand-alone video and would be reprising that role in Poe Party. Various other cast members showed up in the streams with the Core Four, and I distinctly remember thinking, if these people are this entertaining to watch when they’re just hanging out, this show is going to be so amazing! In the second livestream of the campaign, they started writing people’s names on papers to stick on the wall if they pledged or raised their pledge during the streams, which was an excellent incentive, but I would have kept raising mine anyway, because I was desperate for this show to get made. Apart from a few weird troll messages, the stream chat was full of lovely conversations between people who seemed like my kindred spirits. I had never felt more at home in a community. And I had never been more excited than when the Kickstarter exceeded its goal.

And I’m telling you all of this because I need you to understand how astronomically high my hopes and expectations for Poe Party were. Some of the movies I’ve talked about so far ended up in my top 40 partly because I had fairly low expectations going into them and was pleasantly surprised, but that was absolutely not the case here. I had seen excellent work from several of the people involved before, and they seemed particularly dedicated to this project, and I knew they were going to make something incredible. I also desperately needed something in my life to go really well, and this seemed like it might be it, although I knew it wasn’t fair to put that kind of pressure on these independent filmmakers. I tried to temper my expectations, reminding myself that they had only raised a little over $72,000, and Kickstarter was going to take a chunk of that, and some of it had to go to perk fulfillment, so they weren’t going to have nearly enough to make anything super fancy. They released some prologue videos that were very fun but also very small, and I tried to tell myself that the actual show was also going to be small. And I kept reminding myself how long Muzzled had taken to come out, and that I was probably going to have to wait a while for Poe Party too, so I needed to chill. But then in late July – only four and a half months after the Kickstarter had ended – Shipwrecked released a trailer for Poe Party, which said it was starting in less than a month, and there was no tempering my expectations after that. The trailer looked fabulous. It was witty and clever and dramatic and intriguing, the music was perfection, and, shockingly, it looked like an actual studio movie. Not like a super high-budget one, but like they had at least a million dollars. Certainly way more than $60k. My already-ridiculously-high expectations soared to new heights. Part of me was sure I was setting myself up for disappointment, but I couldn’t help it.

And then it was August 22 and the first episode (Chapter 1: The Bells) dropped and it was so much better than I was hoping for. First of all, the look set the tone perfectly. The lighting was exquisite, and the location – incidentally the same house where Muzzled was filmed – was perfect. And then there was the writing. One thing the Persauds had mentioned during the Kickstarter was that they were inspired by the movie Clue, which will be featured in a future episode of this podcast, so I was expecting similar vibes to that, but I was not expecting there to be so many direct references to Clue. All of them made me extremely happy. It felt like the show was made specifically for me. It was like Clue, but even better. I already loved every single character and knew I would be sad to see some of them get murdered. It was also very clear from even just that first episode that this was going to fall into the “everybody was having way too much fun” category of film that I love. But while most movies like that tend to have pretty weak stories and just overall mediocre scripts, and the cast having fun makes up for that, Poe Party was different. The writing was fantastic, AND the acting was perfect, AND it looked gorgeous, AND everybody was having fun. Again, I tried not to have unrealistic expectations, I tried to tell myself that not every episode could be quite the banger that the first one was, but I was still incredibly excited for the rest of the show. And I was not at all disappointed. Somehow it just kept getting better. The running joke about everyone forgetting Emily Dickinson was there or who she was just kept getting funnier. Ditto the joke about George Eliot thinking she needed to convince everyone she was a man when everyone was clearly fine with her being a woman. I remember at one point, when around three or four chapters were out, Mary Kate tweeted that they were working on editing her favorite part of the show, and I thought, surely it doesn’t get better than what I’ve seen already. But it turned out she was talking about chapter 8, and yes, it absolutely was better. The constables, Jim and Jimmy – played by Jim O’Heir and Jimmy Wong – and everyone else trying to fool them, are so delightful to watch. Even though chapter 8 features probably the second saddest death in the series, it’s overall the funniest episode. This show touches an incredibly wide range of emotions and moods, especially considering it takes place in one house over one night.

I want to make it clear that I would still love Poe Party even if I’d stumbled upon it years after it came out, and even if I didn’t recognize any of the actors. The show is excellent enough to stand on its own. But being part of it from the Kickstarter, being familiar with some of the actors, and being online as it was coming out, certainly enhanced my enjoyment of it. Shipwrecked had a weekly “competition” of sorts where they would give a vague prompt and people would make fan art or write fan fiction and post it on social media (#PoePartyFTW), and each of the four members of Shipwrecked would pick their favorite to re-post. I wrote a fic after each of the episodes, and several of them got chosen by Shipwrecked, and I hadn’t felt that good about myself in years. I loved the show so much that I couldn’t confine it just into weekly fics; I was shouting about it on every social media platform. I also started weekly speculation Tumblr posts, using Clue references as my guide, many of which led me astray – I was convinced there must be a secret passage between the kitchen and the study that didn’t turn out to exist – but I did figure out part of the solution relatively early on. While the mystery aspect of Clue is ultimately nonsense if you think about it too hard, Poe Party actually tracks. And if you’ve listened this far and you still haven’t seen Poe Party, please go watch it now, because I’m going to start getting into story specifics and spoilers, and I think everybody should get to see it once without knowing what’s coming. (I’m also going to spoil some of Clue, so you could go watch that too if you want, although I don’t feel like Clue spoilers matter that much.)

In her episode of A Tell Tale Vlog, Annabel mentioned that she had started seeing a banker named Eddie, and then in the Poe Party Kickstarter video, she asked Edgar if she could bring Eddie as her plus one to his party. So Eddie (played by Ryan W. Garcia) shows up late to the party with Annabel, and then becomes the first murder victim. EXCEPT, spoiler alert: he’s actually NOT DEAD, and is, in fact, one of the murderers. And from the very first episode, I recognized Eddie’s similarities to Mr. Boddy in Clue, who is also not dead when you first think he is, and I was therefore suspicious of him from the get-go. But I was still very much open to any possibility (or so I thought) because the Persauds had done an excellent job of making everyone at least somewhat fishy. But there was one thing I was not prepared for, and that was the end of chapter 9. Because it absolutely never occurred to me that Poe’s beautiful Annabel Lee would die, and I’m honestly still kind of devastated about it, even understanding why it had to happen, and at the time I was almost inconsolable. Mary Kate Wiles had led me to this brilliant show, in which she played the kindest, most likable character, only to be brutally murdered? Some fans at the time had thought Annabel might be the killer, which I never did, and honestly I would have been kind of angry if she had been because we need to have more genuinely nice characters in things. I was upset that she died, but I would have been more so if she’d turned evil. (Not that I have anything against MK playing villains – I’m all for it, under the right circumstances. And thankfully the Persauds know when the right circumstances are.) And like, okay, I know I complain about too much romance in stories, but Annabel’s “It was always you” as she died in Edgar’s arms – that got me. Annabel had been planning to marry Eddie because he was more respectable than the unhinged poet she actually loved, and I think that that whole trying to fake the life you think you’re supposed to have thing spoke to me. I had been so tempted to try that, and this was almost as clear of a message as the constables’ “Don’t Do Murder”: Don’t Fake Romance.

At that point, I was pretty much convinced that Eddie must have had something to do with this; why would anyone else kill Annabel? Also, chapter 9 reveals that Annabel wrote the invite list, and I thought it made sense that Eddie, her boyfriend, could have told her whom to include, especially since it had already been established that most of the guests had some connection to Eddie. The prompt for that week’s Poe Party FTW competition was “Confession,” so I decided to try something different from the short stories I’d been submitting, and I re-wrote the poem “Annabel Lee” from Eddie’s perspective as if he was the murderer. And I know this episode is already longer than most of my solo episodes and I have a lot more to say, but I’m still proud of this poem (even though it’s not completely accurate, since it turned out that Eddie didn’t kill everybody), so I need to share it with you:

It was many and many a month ago,

In her cottage by the sea,

That I first read the words that Edgar wrote

For my girlfriend Annabel Lee;

And he said that she lived with no other thought

Than to love and be loved by he.

“He’s just my friend and I’m just his friend,”

She quickly explained to me;

But we loved with a love which was worse than love –

I and my Annabel Lee –

With a love that was founded on secrets and lies,

Fueled by jealousy.

And this was the reason that, later on,

Faced with opportunity,

I took advantage of an offer made

To innocent Annabel Lee;

For when Lenore asked whom to invite

To that cad’s dinner party,

Annabel deferred to my input

Which I gave most willingly.

All authors, not half so worthy as bankers,

Who had e’er quarreled with me –

Yes! – they were the ones (no one would know;

I’d met them all secretly)

That Edgar would invite to his house that night,

At the behest of “his” Annabel Lee.

For our love it was weaker by far than the love

Of vengeance I carried in me –

Of justice toward those who’d wronged me –

And neither the psychics who bring back the dead,

Nor the cops fresh from Academy,

Can hinder my murderous plan; no one can!

No, not even my Annabel Lee.

As I watch them point fingers I find my gaze lingers

On the beautiful Annabel Lee;

When they mention invites, she suspects, knows she’s right,

Out the door runs my Annabel Lee;

Can’t let her get away: who knows what she might say?

So I kill her – I kill her – my eleventh kill today.

Instead of revealing me,

Her last breath says it was always he.

So yeah. I was deep into this. But then nobody in Shipwrecked chose it that week, and I thought, okay, maybe it wasn’t that good, or, maybe my theory is laughably far off the mark. Maybe Eddie’s too obvious. Maybe he really is dead. Then in chapter 10, Charlotte Brontë confessed, and revealed that her sister Anne had been there the whole time helping, and at that point I was pretty sure Eddie was also involved again. We clearly saw that Annabel’s killer was wearing pants, unlike either Brontë sister. And then it was Halloween and the finale finally arrived, and I was right about Eddie, but I was still completely unprepared for how awesome that final chapter would be. I think there was still a small part of me that didn’t believe it was possible for the end to live up to the buildup of the first ten incredible chapters. But it absolutely did. The finale was everything – everything, I say – that I wanted it to be and much more. The evil slow clap. The revolving villain trio of creepy neck touching. The flashbacks. The fights. The pet rock’s revenge. The literary references. And of course, the surprise reveal of Jane Austen, played by Laura Spencer, who had also played Jane Bennet in the Lizzie Bennet Diaries. The episodes were posted at 9 am on Mondays, when I was at work, so I couldn’t watch them right when they dropped, but after the first one I couldn’t wait until I got home either. My work’s wifi blocked YouTube, and I had an extremely limited data plan at the time, so on my lunch break I would walk to the McDonald’s down the street and watch the new episode using their wifi. And when the camera panned to Jane Austen, it was all I could do not to yell “OH MY GOSH IT’S LAURA SPENCER!” in that McDonald’s. I definitely audibly gasped, but I don’t think anyone noticed. The thing is, I would have still been blown away by the finale without that extra surprise. But that’s what Shipwrecked does. They make things that can appeal to a wide audience, and then they sprinkle in some extra treats for people who have been following them for a while. Of course, LBD was not a Shipwrecked project, but finding Shipwrecked through LBD is a fairly common path. And I’m still so impressed with how well they kept Laura as Jane Austen a secret. As a Kickstarter perk, I’d had a video chat with the Core Four that summer, and I’d mentioned that Jane Austen was my favorite author, and I was disappointed that she wasn’t going to be in Poe Party, and they were just like, “Yeah, we thought about including her, but we figured she would be too similar to Charlotte Brontë,” and betrayed not a SINGLE HINT that she was, in fact, in the show. Which is another thing Shipwrecked does: make a very specific, deliberate plan about what to reveal when, and stick to it.

As another example of that, the Poe Party Kickstarter had reached a stretch goal to produce an epilogue. I had completely forgotten about that, but other backers remembered and started asking about it after the finale. Shipwrecked was pretty cagey with their answers, but then directed us to a mysterious Twitter account that was dropping strange clues. I watched as the Shipwrecked fan Facebook group decoded them and ultimately unlocked the epilogue a day before it was released publicly. The epilogue is not included in the feature cut, and now I don’t really think of it as part of the show. Chapter 11 ends so perfectly – Poe stares at the floor as the heartbeat grows louder, a floorboard creaks, fade to black: chef’s kiss. But at the time I was feeling so many overwhelming feels about this show that I desperately needed that epilogue. I was so utterly relieved to see Annabel and HG thriving as ghosts. And I was so thrilled to be surrounded by such a great fandom, who all worked together and helped each other to solve the puzzles – it was a beautiful weekend. And it was also the last weekend before Donald Trump was elected president of the United States and I had to face the fact that the country was more broken and divided than I’d wanted to believe, which definitely adds to my nostalgia for that epilogue adventure.

The show may have ended, and the world may have been falling apart faster than usual, but I could not have gotten Poe Party out of my head even if I’d wanted to, which I didn’t. For over a decade I’d been searching for something that felt like a classic movie, but with some modern sensibilities, and these independent filmmakers had made exactly what I was looking for, zillions of times better than I’d imagined it. That clever, witty dialogue, perfectly delivered by quirky characters, almost felt like it came from a 1930s screwball comedy. But it also felt fresh and new and different from anything I’d seen before. It had so many similarities to Clue – in fact, I taught myself how to make gifs, or [other pronunciation] gifs, in order to highlight specific parallels between Poe Party and Clue – and yet remained unique. Where Clue was mostly just comedy, Poe Party was comedy, tragedy, romance, and intrigue, and absolutely nailed all of those. (Sadly no ravens, though, they didn’t have the budget for that.) Anyway, the series held up shockingly well upon rewatch, and I could not get enough of it. And despite the socially anxious part of my brain that remains convinced that everyone always is annoyed with me, that I have nothing worthwhile to say, that I should just shut up and stop bothering others with my existence – people seemed to like what I was posting about Poe Party. Other fans would engage me in conversation, and I started making internet friends for the first time. And, shockingly, the members of Shipwrecked seemed to genuinely appreciate what I was saying as well. After the finale had aired, Mary Kate reblogged my Annabel Lee poem on Tumblr and said, “I legitimately thought this was brilliant, and only didn’t choose it that week because of spoilers. Every single fic Jane wrote for this ftw has been wonderful, and I have so enjoyed them all, but this was above and beyond.” And maybe it sounds like I’m just boasting at this point, but the reason I’m sharing this is because a year earlier I had felt like a failure of a human who had no place in the world, and now this incredible actress/producer I greatly admired, who had just made my new favorite show, was saying that I had enhanced her experience of releasing it. People were liking and appreciating me, just for being myself and enthusiastically enjoying a movie. And I no longer felt like I was supposed to change who I was.

In early 2017, I got the rest of my Kickstarter perks, including behind-the-scenes goodies that featured not one but two fabulous commentaries. I love them both, but the second one is particularly chaotic in the best way. Ashley Clements and Ryan W Garcia, true to the villainous characters they played in the show, keep derailing the conversation and it’s incredibly amusing. The commentaries are over the feature cut, so many if not most of the views that I counted were with one of the commentaries. And I also bought the feature cut without commentary so I could show it to other people and still count it on my list. Now I tend to watch it episodically because I want the Shipwrecked YouTube channel to get more views for the algorithm, although I’m not sure that actually helps. But anyway, the feature cut and commentaries and other bonus features are still available to rent or buy on shipwrecked.vhx.tv, which I will also link in the show notes, if you’re interested.

Also in 2017, the first episode of Poe Party was shown at a festival near me, so I got to meet the Core Four members of Shipwrecked and some fans in person. That was very exciting, but I was also extremely nervous, although I didn’t need to be. The Shipwrecked people were so lovely and actually wanted to talk to me and the other fans who were there. And then I got to see Poe Party win some awards, which was awesome. And then a few months later, Shipwrecked launched another Kickstarter, and I pledged even more to it than I had to Poe Party even though the goal was lower, and then they kept making more stuff and I kept supporting it, and also continued to love everything they made (yes, even the Fart Feud with the Tin Can Brothers). I continued to support Mary Kate on Patreon, and I also started supporting other cast members on Patreon, like Whitney Avalon who had played Mary Shelley and does a lot of her own stuff on YouTube, and of course Ashley Clements, as I’ve mentioned previously, and as soon as Shipwrecked finally got their own Patreon, I was all in at the top tier. And, like, I don’t want to go on about this too much, because I do truly believe that I would love their work even if I’d never interacted with them, but I don’t know that I’d be quite the die-hard, take-all-my-money-to-make-more-things Shipwrecked fan that I am, if I hadn’t had so many wonderful interactions with the members of Shipwrecked over the years. I didn’t set out to become friends with them, but I kind of have – although I still feel a little weird and presumptuous to claim that. I feel like this will sound to some people like an out-of-control parasocial relationship, but like, it’s not that, because they do know me. Other people in my life have referred to Shipwrecked as “the people you pay to be your friends,” but it’s not that either: I give them money so they can keep making things, and we also happened to hit it off as friends – which again feels like a presumptuous label, but I can’t come up with a more accurate word. They make what they love and I love what they make, so it’s not that surprising that we’d get along. And for similar reasons, it’s not surprising that I’ve made so many very close friendships with other Shipwrecked fans. Our love for these projects brought us together, and then turned out to be far from the only thing we have in common.

I feel like I’m talking way too much about my own personal experiences, I’m so sorry if this is boring. Back to Poe Party itself. I’ve hinted at it already, but I need to emphasize again both how incredible the script is, and how amazingly the cast brought it to life. The story was so well thought out: every scene, every character, every moment was there for a reason. Like, I thought George Eliot disguising herself as a man was just a nod to female authors having to use male pen names, but then that turned into an important clue that led to the Brontës. Yes, you can poke plenty of holes in Poe Party if you want to – not all of the characters based on real people were actually alive at the same time, some of the technology is anachronistic, etc – but none of that stuff really matters. It’s clearly meant to be silly and fun, so you don’t really need to know what year it is. But the fact that they managed to write something silly and fun that didn’t completely devolve into absolute nonsense is so incredibly impressive. Sean and Sinéad wrote an absolutely brilliant script, and then they assembled the perfect cast for it. Every actor is on the exact same page about what this project is, and they each know exactly how their character fits in. Even when they’re in the background, everyone is giving 100%. I want to especially shout out Joey Richter, since Ernest Hemingway is drinking all night, and Joey did a tremendous job of tracking how drunk he was supposed to be. By the finale he’s having to slap himself to stay awake in the background, and it’s hilarious. Everyone else is also a delight to watch, and I feel like I’m still noticing little background moments I hadn’t clocked before. There aren’t very many close-ups, which I think was mainly because they didn’t have the budget for the time it would take to shoot them, but it works perfectly because a lot of the funny moments become even funnier when you can see multiple characters’ reactions at once. If you’re watching the background acting closely enough, you may notice a few instances of people almost breaking, but personally I just choose to interpret that as the characters finding it difficult to keep it together when other characters around them are being silly, and who can blame them? I appreciate that the writers and director trusted the cast enough to let them play around and improvise, because some great ad-libbed lines ended up in the final cut, and many more went into the best blooper reel ever, which is 24 minutes long and I love every second of it. There are some moments from the bloopers that I find myself saying sometimes when I’m watching the actual show – Ashley’s “Don’t be mean to me!” is probably the one I quote the most.

There is definitely romance in Poe Party – the whole reason for the party is because Edgar is in love with Annabel. Lenore and HG Wells develop feelings for each other over the course of the evening…until he dies. And several other characters flirt with each other. But none of the romances end well, and throughout the story, there is a lot of emphasis on friendship, and acquaintanceship, and other types of relationship. And that’s a running theme in most of Shipwrecked’s projects. There hasn’t been a kiss in any of them since Kissing in the Rain. Of course, much of the Poe Party fandom was, and is, into shipping characters with each other – for any listeners who may not be terminally online, shipping characters means that you want them to be in a romantic relationship with each other. I joined in somewhat, mostly because I felt like I was supposed to, but I couldn’t have articulated that at the time. And, as I mentioned earlier, I was particularly fascinated by the Eddie/Annabel dynamic, but I was only able to fully comprehend how much I needed the “don’t fake romance” message in hindsight. This show and its fandom made me feel less alone and adrift, but I still didn’t figure out I was aroace for a few more years. Although it was friends I made in the Shipwrecked fan community who first really helped me understand and accept that part of my identity, so I can still say that Poe Party was an important step on that journey.

I want to say so much more about this utterly brilliant show – I don’t feel like I’ve even come close to doing it justice here – but there truly are no words to adequately express my love for it. It still holds up nearly 7 years later, but Shipwrecked has come a long way since then. When their most recent webseries, Headless: A Sleepy Hollow Story, was about to come out, they said it made Poe Party look like it had been done by a bunch of kindergarteners, and I was upset at the Poe Party slander, but once I watched that series, I understood what they meant. Headless is so far above and beyond, but unfortunately it came out too recently to make it into my top 40. Currently they’re releasing an audio narrative called The Case of the Greater Gatsby, which should be on the same platform you’re listening to this on. That is a sequel to their short film The Case of the Gilded Lily, which I will be discussing in a future episode. I really hope that someday Shipwrecked gets the level of recognition they deserve – their fandom is still relatively small, although we are mighty and devoted. At the very least, I hope that the current strikes will help enable them to make a living from writing and acting.

Thank you for listening to me discuss another of my most frequently rewatched movies, or at least attempt to. Following this will be a two-way tie of movies I watched 25 times, both of which feature Cary Grant, my favorite leading man apart from Sean Persaud. As always, I will leave you with a quote from the next movie: “Hi! Mellow greetings, ukie-dukie!”

#poe party #edgar allan poe's murder mystery dinner party #shipwrecked comedy #the rewatch rewind

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the-rewatch-rewind · 9 months

Text

An old movie with a very relevant name.

Script below the break.

Hello and welcome back to The Rewatch Rewind! My name is Jane, and this is the podcast where I count down my top 40 most frequently rewatched movies over the last 20 years. Today I will be discussing number 14 on my list: MGM’s 1944 psychological thriller Gaslight, directed by George Cukor, written by John Van Druten, Walter Reisch, and John L Balderston, based on the play by Patrick Hamilton, and starring Ingrid Bergman, Charles Boyer, and Joseph Cotten.

So first of all, if you’re thinking, “Gaslight? As in, to deny someone’s reality to the point that they can no longer trust their own perceptions?” then, yes, you’re absolutely correct: this movie (and the play it’s based on and the 1940 British film it’s a remake of) is where that term comes from. So I’m just going to give a blanket content warning for this whole episode: I will be talking a lot about psychological and emotional abuse. This is an incredibly well-made movie, which is why I keep revisiting it, but I recognize that not everybody is in the right place to hear stories about gaslighting, so please, take care of yourself, and skip this episode if you think it’s going to cause you distress.

That being said, I truly have no idea why “gaslighting” suddenly became a popular buzzword in the last 10 years or so, or how it has evolved to be misapplied to any form of lying. I’ve even heard people talk about how someone is “gaslighting” them when they merely disagree about something. So despite how incredibly dark and disturbing this movie is, I really think everyone should watch it, if for no other reason than to learn how to use the term correctly. But there’s obviously a lot more to it than that, which I will get into. But first, my traditional plot summary:

When her aunt and guardian, a famous opera star, is murdered in their London home, young Paula Alquist (Ingrid Bergman) is sent to Italy to train as a singer. Ten years later, she is swept off her feet by her new accompanist, Gregory Anton (Charles Boyer), and after knowing each other only two weeks, they get married. Though she is still haunted by her aunt’s unsolved murder, upon hearing that Gregory has always wanted to live in London, Paula suggests that they move into her old house. As they settle in, Gregory’s behavior gradually changes, and Paula begins to feel like she is losing her mind.

The main thing I remember about the first time I watched this movie was thinking it wasn’t a very good mystery, since it’s pretty obvious fairly early on who the bad guy is. But by the end it became clear that it was never meant to be a mystery, but rather a map of red flags to watch out for, as well as a surprisingly sympathetic portrayal of how easy it can be to ignore them until it’s too late. Or, I guess I should say, almost too late, since, spoiler alert: the movie does have a mostly happy ending. Anyway, I had never seen a movie like this before and it fascinated me. I watched it twice in 2003, once in 2004, once in 2006, once in 2007, twice in 2008, three times in 2012, once in 2013, once in 2014, twice in 2015, twice in 2016, once in 2017, once in 2018, once in 2020, twice in 2021, and once in 2022. I also saw the 1940 version once in 2006. I don’t remember much about it other than I thought it was pretty good, but the remake was better. And a big part of that is because of the cast of the remake. One of my 2015 views of the remake was part of my watching through Best Actress winners project because Ingrid Bergman won the first of her three Oscars for this film. Apparently at the time I ranked this performance as the 7th best to win that award, and now if anything I feel like that was too low. The more I rewatch this movie, the more impressed I am by what a difficult job she had and how thoroughly she crushed it.

Paula is an incredibly complex character who undergoes a significant emotional journey. At the beginning, though she’s definitely still haunted by the trauma of her youth, she’s mostly happy and hopeful and vivacious. And then all of that slowly dims as Gregory’s manipulations escalate, almost as if she is a gas light that he’s turning down. That’s not why the movie is called Gaslight, though; it’s called that because one of the early signs that something sketchy is going on is when Paula starts to notice lights dimming as if someone turned a new light on somewhere else in the house, but nobody else seems to notice this and she can’t find a good explanation for it. But watching Paula go from a lively, lovestruck newlywed to basically a zombie struggling to find a shred of reality she can trust also feels like watching a gas light flame go down. And it would have been so easy to either overdo or undersell this descent into confusion, but Ingrid Bergman perfectly balances every moment. You can see Paula starting to doubt herself more and more as her actions and words become more hesitant and her looks become more vague, until she begins to resign herself to the fact that Gregory must be right, she must be insane, there’s nothing more she can do. It’s so painful and heartbreaking that I desperately want to reach through the screen and comfort her and tell her what’s really going on. And then, just when I almost can’t stand it anymore, Joseph Cotten shows up to do that for me. He plays Inspector Brian Cameron of Scotland Yard, a childhood fan of Paula’s aunt who happens to see Paula one of the few times she’s out with Gregory in London, which leads him to reopen the cold case of her aunt’s murder and figure out what’s going on just in time to help Paula. The implication that Paula needs a man to rescue her is one thing I don’t love about this movie, but at the same time I think it’s important to acknowledge that Gregory was so effective at – for lack of a better term – gaslighting her that she could not have escaped that situation without help.

Not to take any of the credit away from Bergman for her stellar performance, but I do think it helped that George Cukor was the director. Longtime listeners may recognize his name from Holiday, which was number 33 on this list, and Adam’s Rib, which was number 27, both of which have significantly lighter tones. Gaslight feels much more like an Alfred Hitchcock picture than a George Cukor one. Cukor apparently didn’t like being referred to as a “woman’s director,” but he had a reputation for his ability to coax great performances out of actresses, and this is certainly no exception. In order to help Bergman keep track of Paula’s gradual descent toward madness while shooting out of order, Cukor would tell her the whole plot up to the scenes they were filming each day, which Bergman initially resented, but then he stopped doing it for a few days and she realized how helpful it had been, and they went back to doing it that way. I do think Ingrid Bergman would have been great in this role regardless of who the director was, but George Cukor helped elevate her to the best she could possibly be.

While Bergman’s performance is far and away my favorite aspect of this movie, the rest of the cast is also phenomenal, albeit rather small. It definitely has that based-on-a-play feel of limited locations and few characters, although that also works very well with the story. Part of Gregory’s strategy is to cut Paula off from the rest of the world so she won’t have a safety net. Consequently, for most of the film she only interacts with him and their two servants: the kind but mostly-deaf cook, Elizabeth, played by Barbara Everest, and the saucy, flirtatious maid, Nancy, played by none other than 18-year-old Angela Lansbury in her film debut, both of whom are absolutely perfect in their roles. I love Everest’s delivery of “I see just how it is” when Gregory is trying to keep Elizabeth on his side without realizing that she’s always been firmly on Paula’s. And Lansbury embodies the exact attitude required for Nancy: flirtatious toward Gregory, disdainful toward Paula, totally oblivious to how she’s being manipulated until the end – all conveyed with every look she gives and line she speaks as if she’s a veteran actor. It comes as absolutely no surprise that she went on to have such a long and successful career, with this as her first screen performance. She was even nominated for an Oscar! And then there’s the neighbor Miss Thwaites, played by Dame May Whitty, who adds some much-needed levity with her “diggy biscuits” and morbid curiosity about the house in her square where there was a “real murder!” Joseph Cotten’s role is honestly pretty bland – kind of the film noir version of a classic Disney prince, in a way – but he makes the most of it. And then there’s Charles Boyer, giving one of the best creepy villain performances I’ve ever seen, which was also Oscar-nominated. He starts out just sort of vaguely unsettling, raising one or two red flags right off the bat, but like, he could still be okay, and then by the end he is full-on terrifying. He has this amazing stone-faced look that makes your blood run cold. There’s this one moment in particular, kind of toward the middle, when Miss Thwaites and Inspector Cameron (posing as her nephew) have tried to visit them, and Gregory tells Nancy to send them away. Paula wanted to let them in but he freaked out so she backed down, and then after Nancy leaves she again says she wanted to see them, and he’s like, “Oh, why didn’t you say so?” and it makes me want to scream. Then he tells her she didn’t have time to see them because they’re going out to the theater, and Paula’s like, “I didn’t know that…or did I forget?” and Gregory, facing the camera with his back to her, opens his mouth to respond, and then stops and waits for her to dwell on that for a few more seconds before he tells her that no, this is a surprise, and both his face and her face are so perfect there, I love it and hate it so much. Like, I love it from a “this movie is so well acted” perspective, and I hate it from a “this character is a horrible human being” perspective. And then Paula gets overly happy, since she’s been trapped in the house for so long that him letting her go out seems like a wonderful gift. But then he “notices” that a picture is missing from the wall, and makes her think she hid it, and they end up not going out because she’s “too unwell.”

That’s the main way he manipulates her: by moving things and making it look like she took them. What’s particularly interesting about the way the movie shows this is we never actually see Gregory taking any of the things, but it is nevertheless clear that he has been. But he is so insistent that she’s doing it that we can easily believe that Paula wouldn’t suspect him, or that if she did, she would have significant doubts. And even if she did figure it out, it’s not like there’s anything she can do about it. She’s in London for the first time in a decade, she doesn’t know anyone, she doesn’t have anywhere to go, and she’s not sure she can trust her own mind. And I think it’s so important that the movie at no point faults her for ending up in that situation or for not being able to leave. The movie also gives no indication that Gregory is physically harming Paula, but leaves the audience in no doubt that he is an abusive husband. And I feel like the messages that abuse doesn’t have to be physical and that it’s never the victim’s fault are still too rare in media today, let alone nearly 80 years ago. I feel like back then most unhealthy relationships in movies were in the His Girl Friday vein of “they’re kind of both abusing each other so it’s fine” or would find other ways for excusing or explaining the abusive behavior, like “the abuser was drunk” or “the victim was asking for it” or what have you. And if they weren’t like that, the victim usually ended up dead. In Gaslight, Gregory has no excuse. I mean, he does have a reason, but it’s a terrible reason that in no way justifies his actions. And Paula not only survives, but also gets an incredibly satisfying confrontation with Gregory after Brian and another policeman have tied him up. When the police leave them alone together, Gregory pleads with her to get a knife and cut him free, and for a moment you think she’s actually going to help him, but she gets her revenge by pretending she can’t find the knife and saying she’s too insane to help him, forcing him to admit that he has lied to her and she isn’t actually mad. And she wraps up her great payback with: “If I were not mad, I could have helped you. Whatever you had done, I could have pitied and protected you. But because I am mad, I hate you. Because I am mad, I have betrayed you. And because I'm mad, I'm rejoicing in my heart, without a shred of pity, without a shred of regret, watching you go with glory in my heart!” So she turns his gaslighting around on him, and it’s amazing. Although I must admit that right after that when she cries, “Mr. Cameron! Take this man away!” is the one part when I feel like Ingrid Bergman overdoes it just a little bit and gets too melodramatic, but after everything Paula has been through, she deserves as many melodramatic moments as she wants.

I would prefer it if the movie didn’t conclude with the implication that Paula is going to end up romantically involved with Brian, but again, she deserves all the happiness she can get, and if that’s what’s going to make her happy, I’m all for it. And I guess we can claim Miss Thwaites as aroace representation, since she seems to be an old maid with no interest in romance. This movie also speaks to my aromanticism and asexuality in a different, unique way. Because to a certain extent, being aroace in an allonormative, amatonormative society kind of feels like the entire world is gaslighting you. Of course, I don’t mean to imply that my experiences have been anywhere near as horrendous as someone like Paula’s – having your reality cruelly and intentionally twisted by a partner is on an entirely different level from not quite fitting in with the dominant culture’s concept of reality. Still, being constantly bombarded with the message that all mature humans frequently experience sexual and romantic attraction, and that a universal top life goal is to find a partner you’re attracted to that way, when you don’t feel those attractions and don’t desire that kind of partner, is incredibly confusing and disorienting. Once you become an adult, or even a teenager, people start giving you knowing looks when they hear you’ve been hanging out with a friend one-on-one, especially if that friend happens to be of the opposite sex. And you don’t think you like any of your friends “that way” but you also don’t really know what liking someone “that way” feels like so you start to think maybe you don’t know your own feelings. And if you’re lucky, your brain subconsciously decides that you do have crushes like a normal person, they’re just always on movie stars, most of whom are dead, which you realize is weird, but it’s an understandable kind of weird. Nobody believes you when you say you don’t have a crush on anybody, but if you show them a picture of Cary Grant and say, “I have a crush on him,” that makes sense to them. And so you end up becoming convinced that you’re experiencing types of attraction that you’re not, to the point that when you first hear about asexuality you don’t even consider the possibility that it could describe you. And of course, when I say “you” I mean “me”; I can’t speak for all aroaces, although I do think most of us experience some form of that confusion before we figure out that our identity exists. I feel like there’s a relatively widespread perception that aromantic and/or asexual people are just single allos who want to feel special by giving themselves a label, but for me, the opposite is true. Using the aroace label makes me feel less special, because now I know there are other people out there like me, after spending so much time trying to play along with the attraction I thought I was supposed to be feeling. It’s honestly been kind of difficult to unlearn this, to teach myself how to even recognize, let alone trust, what I’m actually feeling versus the socially acceptable way to be feeling about other people.

It’s weird because, looking back, it’s so obvious to me that I was faking crushes, that I was just parroting things I’d heard when I talked about them, that I was just smiling and nodding when people would say things like, “Isn’t that person hot?” But at the time, I absolutely could not admit that, even to myself, because I felt like, in order to be human, I must be experiencing what I’d been led to believe were universal human emotions that went along with sexual and romantic attraction. Back in 2013 I blogged about all the movies I’d seen at least 10 times in 10 years, and I just re-read my post about Gaslight, in which I apparently wrote that I found Joseph Cotten attractive in this movie. I don’t remember thinking or writing that, but I’m sure if I’d been asked to elaborate, I would have said I thought he was hot or whatever, even though I absolutely did not, I just thought I was supposed to. I wasn’t consciously lying; I had become convinced that I felt things I didn’t. Although, now that I think about it, maybe I really was attracted to him, not sexually or romantically, but in terms of the way his character functions in the story. I desperately needed someone to show up and tell me that the problem wasn’t with my mind and provide me with some key information I was missing that would explain what was going on, just like Brian does for Paula. Again, her experience was much more horrifying than mine, but learning that some people are aromantic and asexual, that not feeling those kinds of attraction is perfectly normal for those people, was almost as revelatory to me as learning that her husband killed her aunt and was trying to drive her mad was to Paula. Maybe it sounds like I’m the one being melodramatic now, but I don’t know how else to explain how messed up it is to spend decades convincing yourself and everyone else that you’re feeling things you’re not, and what a relief it is to learn that you were right all along and can finally take the mask off. And that’s why I’ve been focusing so much on looking at movies from an aromantic and asexual perspective on this podcast. Because I don’t want anyone else to go through all that. I want everyone to know that amatonormativity and allonormativity are lies, both because I want people on the aromantic and/or asexual spectrums to understand themselves sooner than I understood myself, and because I want alloromantic, allosexual people to know that not everyone is like them. I don’t blame the allo people I was surrounded with for perpetuating these norms because they didn’t know better. I know they weren’t really trying to gaslight me. But I would like to live in a society where most people do know better.

Anyway, I appreciate this movie for understanding me in ways that I couldn’t articulate until recently. But that’s far from the only reason it’s this high on my list. Again, I truly cannot overemphasize how phenomenal the acting is. Ingrid Bergman was always wonderful, but she took it to a whole other level here, and the rest of the cast were similarly at the top of their game. I never get tired of watching them act together, particularly when I’m in the mood for something a little darker. Like the other Ingrid Bergman movie I talked about, Notorious, I’m not sure whether Gaslight “counts” as film noir, because it has some of the typical noir tropes but lacks other important ones. But from a lighting and cinematography perspective, it definitely feels like a noir, so if you enjoy that style, you’ll probably appreciate this movie. It was nominated for a total of seven Oscars, including Best Picture, Screenplay, and Black-and-White Cinematography, in addition to the three acting nominations I mentioned earlier for Bergman, Boyer, and Lansbury. The only Oscar it won besides Best Actress was for Art Direction, which is something I don’t generally pay a ton of attention to, but the set is particularly important in Gaslight. The house almost functions as a character: it’s Gregory’s accomplice in torturing Paula, and the increasingly cluttered look of the rooms helps emphasize the way it’s trapping her. And, of course, there are the real, vintage gasoliers that give the movie its title and add greatly to its mood. So both of this movie’s Oscars were thoroughly deserved.

Thank you for listening to me discuss another of my most frequently rewatched films. This wraps up the 4-way tie of movies I saw 22 times from 2003 through 2022. I wonder how many other people out there have watched Beauty and the Beast, A Mighty Wind, His Girl Friday, and Gaslight the same number of times in the last 20 years. Anyway, I didn’t watch any movies exactly 23 times, so next up is the only one I watched 24 times, which is also one that I have a LOT of feelings and personal stories about, so stay tuned for what I’m sure will be a particularly long and rambling episode that I hope will be fun to listen to. As always, I will leave you with a quote from that next movie: “I don’t need to act things out in order to write them. I have what we like to call an ‘imagination.’ Have you ever heard of that? Oh, no no no no no, please tell us more about the old man… and the boat.”

#gaslight #ingrid bergman #charles boyer #george cukor #angela lansbury #the rewatch rewind

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the-rewatch-rewind · 9 months

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Another new episode!

Script below the break.

Hello and welcome back to The Rewatch Rewind! My name is Jane, and this is the podcast where I count down my top 40 most frequently rewatched movies in a 20-year period. Today I will be talking about number 15 on my list: Columbia Pictures’ 1940 fast-talking comedy His Girl Friday, directed by Howard Hawks, written by Charles Lederer (and uncredited Ben Hecht and Morrie Ryskind), based on the play “The Front Page” by Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur, and starring Cary Grant, Rosalind Russell, and Ralph Bellamy.

After a four-month absence, reporter Hildy Johnson (Rosalind Russell) returns to the office of The Morning Post to inform her ex-husband/boss, editor Walter Burns (Cary Grant), that she is about to marry insurance agent Bruce Baldwin (Ralph Bellamy), settle down, and quit the newspaper business for good. Desperate to win her back, both professionally and romantically, Walter entices Hildy to write one last great story for the paper, while doing everything he can to sabotage her relationship with Bruce.

I don’t remember any of my first impressions of this movie, or if I had seen it before I started keeping track. I assume it was one of the many old movies I got from the library relatively early in my foray into Old Hollywood, so I might have seen it in 2002. I definitely saw it once in 2003, once in 2005, once each in 2007 through 2009, three times in 2010, three times in 2012, once in each year from 2013 through 2016, twice in 2017, once in 2018, twice in 2019, and twice in 2022. I know that in 2010, I took a class at community college called “film as literature,” in which some assignments involved picking a movie and three different aspects of filmmaking, and discussing how those three aspects enhanced the story of that particular film. The instructor advised us to watch the movie we were writing about three times, focusing on a different aspect each time, and His Girl Friday was one of the movies I wrote a paper like that about (I focused on dialogue, props, and lighting), so that explains the three times in 2010. But I can’t think of a good explanation for why I watched it three times again in 2012, aside from the fact that it’s a great movie that I always enjoy watching. It’s also one that feels particularly appropriate to include in my annual Cary Grant birthday marathon, because it happened to come out on his birthday in 1940, so that’s part of why I watch it almost every year.

By far the best and most noteworthy aspect of this movie is its rapid-fire dialogue. Yes, a lot of old movies are very dialogue-heavy with people talking pretty fast, but like, His Girl Friday takes it to a whole other level. A typical movie averages around 90 words of dialogue per minute; His Girl Friday averages around 240. Many lines were specifically written so that the beginning and the end didn’t matter, allowing the actors to talk over each other, as people do in real conversations, without preventing the audience from understanding what was going on. All the fast, overlapping talking is particularly impressive given that multi-track recording hadn’t been developed yet, so they couldn’t adjust the volumes of different speakers separately in post-production; they just turned different overhead microphones on and off so the primary speaker was louder when they were recording, with some scenes reportedly requiring up to 35 switches – shout out to that sound department. At the time, the record for fastest film dialogue was held by the 1931 version of The Front Page, and director Howard Hawks was determined to break it with this adaptation, which he later proved he had done by screening the two versions next to each other. He also encouraged the actors to improvise, which made filming take longer – as it had with his earlier Bringing Up Baby – but helped the conversations feel even more authentic. Rosalind Russell felt that Cary Grant had more good lines in the script than she did, so she hired her own writer to help enhance her dialogue. Apparently at one point, after she did something unscripted, Grant broke character and said into camera, “Is she going to do that?” which Hawks really wanted to keep in the movie, but ultimately didn’t make the final cut. But several noteworthy ad-libs remained, including at least two, possibly three, amazing inside jokes. One is when Walter says, “He looks like that fellow in the movies…Ralph Bellamy” about Bruce, who did, in fact, look exactly like Ralph Bellamy, the actor playing him. And then there’s the part when the mayor says, “You’re through,” and Walter replies with, “The last man that said that to me was Archie Leach,” in reference to Cary Grant’s birth name – yes, he had the same birth surname as me, but we’re not related as far as I know. And the third, which has not been officially confirmed as an ad-lib or intentional reference but might have been, is when Walter calls the man hiding in a desk a “mock turtle,” which was the character Grant played in the 1933 Alice in Wonderland movie.

So basically, this film was made specifically for Cary Grant fans, and that’s a big part of why I love it. Walter Burns is one of his less likable characters – he’s selfish and deceptive and manipulative – but also one of his most fun to watch. Grant nails every beat of the breakneck-paced dialogue, knowing exactly when to pull focus toward himself and when to fade back to let his scene partner shine through. He still keeps going in the background, though, which helps make this movie especially rewatchable. As you can probably tell from the mere existence of this podcast, I enjoy rewatching movies anyway, but with His Girl Friday in particular, there are so many excellent moments that I didn’t notice until I’d seen the whole film many times, and I’m still noticing new things with every rewatch. While you don’t need to hear the overlapping bits of dialogue to follow the movie, once you’re familiar with the story it’s very fun to go back and listen for the parts you missed before. And several actors – Grant in particular – make some great reaction faces in the background that are worth watching out for. So if you’ve only seen this movie once, I would highly recommend revisiting it.

And it’s not just Cary Grant – Rosalind Russell is absolutely fabulous in this movie. Hildy Johnson was a man in The Front Page, but when Howard Hawks heard his female secretary reading the lines during auditions, he thought they sounded great coming from a woman and decided to turn Hildy into Walter’s ex-wife. It would have been nice if they could have changed one of the main characters into a woman without making her automatically romantically involved with the other main character, but we can’t have everything. Many actresses were considered but ended up either turning it down or being too expensive to hire. Russell knew she was not a top choice and was apparently very insecure about that, but she had no reason to be because she was perfect. All the reporters in the movie talk ridiculously fast, but she leaves them in the dust and makes it look easy. It took me many takes just to quote part of one of her many rapid monologues at the end of last episode without tripping over my words; I don’t know how she did it. And while she’s talking a mile a minute, she’s also portraying an incredibly layered and nuanced character. The wonderful character actors playing the other reporters do a great job of conveying that they have embraced the cold, detached mindset of caring more about the scoop than the story itself. Hildy shares this to a certain extent, but she hasn’t completely lost her sense of empathy the way they have. She fits in with the guys, but she’s also better than them, both as a journalist and as a human being, without seeming too perfect to be realistic, which is an incredibly complex and difficult balance to strike, but again, Rosalind Russell nails it. Much as I love Grant’s performance, Russell is really the glue that holds the whole thing together, and she commits to that role completely.

Hildy is such a strong character that I’m always disappointed when she goes back to Walter at the end. She is clearly a much better match with him than with Bruce, whose slow, deliberate speech contrasts rather jarringly with Hildy and Walter’s snappy patter. But Walter has learned exactly zero lessons by the end of the movie, and there is no reason to believe that any of the problems with their first marriage will ever be resolved. Throughout the movie, Hildy is torn between wanting the domestic life of Bruce’s wife and the more hectic life of a newspaper reporter that still has a hold on her. When Walter tells her she can’t quit because she’s a newspaperman, she replies that that’s why she’s leaving, so she can be a woman. But as much as she complains about it, she makes it pretty clear that she does love being a reporter. I think there is a part of her that genuinely likes the idea of settling down as a housewife, but it seems like the main reason she wants to do that is because society is telling her that’s what women are supposed to do. So I’m very glad the movie doesn’t make her marry Bruce. I also recognize that at the time it was rather radical to suggest that a woman should pursue a career in something other than homemaking if she wants to, let alone suggest that she doesn’t have to completely give up the idea of having a husband to do so. In 1940 it was highly unusual to show a man wanting his wife to also have a career like Walter does. So from that perspective it is kind of nice to see them get back together. But at the same time, he treats her pretty terribly, and it kind of feels like it’s saying that a career gal should be happy with any man she can manage to get, regardless of how slimy he is. Not that Hildy doesn’t also treat Walter pretty terribly too. I guess they show their affection by hurling insults at each other, which is a type of relationship that makes no sense to me, but they seem to be on the same page about it. Still, I would love to see Hildy walk out on both Walter and Bruce like the strong, independent woman she is. At least the movie makes it clear that, despite its title, she is nobody’s assistant, or “girl Friday.”

The progressive for 1940 but doesn’t quite work now theme extends beyond feminism. Besides the Walter/Hildy/Bruce love triangle, the other main storyline in the movie involves a man named Earl Williams, played by John Qualen, who is about to be hanged for killing a policeman, despite some legitimate questions regarding his sanity. Walter wants Hildy to do one final interview with Earl to show that he definitely wasn’t responsible for his actions, and that he’s being strategically executed a few days before an election so the incumbent sheriff and mayor will look tough on crime and win. Most of the reporters don’t seem to care, asking the sheriff if he can move the execution up a few hours so it can make their morning editions. The sheriff refuses, but it is very clear that he could not care less about upholding the law, and same with the mayor, because when a messenger from the governor arrives with a reprieve, they try to bribe him to leave and come back later so they can still execute Williams and pretend the reprieve arrived too late. And it’s not just the politicians who are corrupt. Hildy bribes a prison guard twice: first to get an interview with Earl Williams, and then to find out how he managed to get a gun and escape. Then when Hildy and Walter find Williams, they hide him, not because they think he’s innocent and want to save him, but because they want to be able to turn him in after they’ve written the story of how they captured him. The movie’s statements about the way American society treats working-class people on the fringes, like Earl, and the way the criminal justice system is easily manipulated for political or financial gain, are honestly still pretty accurate, for the most part. But in a bizarre twist, Walter tells Bruce and Hildy that the policeman Earl shot was black, and that the politicians are trying to get votes from black people by executing his white killer, which is just, so completely backwards from how anything actually works that it kind of detracts from the legitimate points the movie does make. Everything about this story just screams late 1930s/early 1940s, from the characters’ world views to the costumes to the current event references, which makes sense given when the movie was made, but is completely inconsistent with the written prologue at the beginning, which states: “It all happened in the dark ages of the newspaper game – when to a reporter getting that story justified anything short of murder. Incidentally, you will see in this picture no resemblance to the men and women of the press today. Ready? Well, once upon a time—” It’s like, nice try, but in 1940 you can’t pretend this is set in a bygone era and then talk about Hitler and the European war. I don’t think they were really fooling anyone, but at least this allowed the filmmakers to get away with criticizing journalists without getting sued or censored.

Speaking of being censored, one of the few female characters in this movie, Mollie Malloy (played by Helen Mack), kind of seems like she’s supposed to be a prostitute, but of course they weren’t allowed to say that so it’s not super clear. What we do know is that she befriended Earl Williams shortly before he was arrested and has visited him in jail, and that the press has been inaccurately representing the nature of Earl and Mollie’s relationship. I don’t know if it was partly because of the Hays Code that they specifically state that Earl and Mollie haven’t slept together, but regardless of the reason, I’m always a fan of platonic male/female friendship. And the way the movie shows that they care about each other deeply in a non-sexual way, while portraying the reporters as wrong for sexualizing their relationship, feels almost like it’s saying “asexual rights” and we love to see it. We don’t really know what’s going to happen to Earl and Mollie after the events of the film, but I hope that Earl gets the mental health care he needs – he won’t because it’s 1940 but we can pretend – and that Mollie fully recovers from jumping out of the window – we know she’s alive but not how badly she’s hurt – and that they remain close friends.

While this movie touches on a lot of dark themes, overall the tone is lighthearted. It feels like it’s exposing the world for the hellscape that it is and laughing at it. And while some of its attitudes feel very outdated and problematic, that mood is still relatable. His Girl Friday is hectic and chaotic and screwball, but it manages to remain at least somewhat grounded and real. So watching it can feel like either escaping from the real world or looking into a mirror held up to the real world, depending on what the viewer chooses to focus on. This makes it an appropriate movie to watch in many different moods, which helps explain why I revisit it so often. That and the incredible fast-talking performances that I’m still in awe of. And, of course, Cary Grant’s presence always helps.

Thank you for listening to me discuss another of my most frequently rewatched movies. Next up is the fourth and longest movie I watched 22 times in 20 years, which is also from the 1940s, so stay tuned for another oldie. It is also probably the most disturbing movie on this list, just to warn anyone who may be watching along. As always, I will leave you with a quote from that next movie: “Are you suggesting that this is a knife I hold in my hand?”

#his girl friday #cary grant #rosalind russell #howard hawks #the rewatch rewind

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