Like a fine wine…

 

Casablanca is my favorite film of all time. It’s one of those movies that I never tire of watching. In fact, one of my first dates with my husband was watching it while eating homemade pastaEach year we have a tradition of watching this perfect film at least once together.

Last year (7/15/2011), he surprised me with tickets to watch Casablanca accompanied by the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra at the Verizon Wireless Amphitheater, a venue that allowed us to bring blankets and watch the film from the lawn with a bottle of wine. It was a perfect summer evening; I had no idea what an amazing experience this would be. It was an incredibly moving feeling to be surrounded by hundreds of people who were laughing, crying, and cheering along with me. This film, which still has the power to move me after countless times watching it, had the same effect on so many others. The Atlanta Symphony Orchestra added a new and exciting element to the film. Because it was a live performance, there was no room for error. The Orchestra had a responsibility to maintain and enhance the sheer power of this film. I’m sure that any Casablanca fan would agree that one of the most important elements in this film is the music. Who can watch this film and not swell with emotion as Victor Lazlo commands the band to play “La Marseillaise” in an attempt to overpower the evil Major Strasser and his comrades? The Orchestra fulfilled my expectations in every way; it was indeed a compelling performance.

This year (6/14/2012) my husband and I watched Casablanca on the big screen at The Fox Theater in Atlanta. Because The Fox is designed in the theme of an Arabian desert, it was the perfect setting for Casablanca.

The Fox Theater

The previews for the movie featured a Looney Tunes version of the film: Carrotblanca. (The crowd seemed pleased with the choice of Pepe Le Pew to play Captain Renault.)

I sincerely hope that we are able to find another fantastic showing of Casablanca next year! I can’t wait to share my passion for this film with other fans all over again!

Sanitizing The Children’s Hour

 

By some accounts a champion of female independence, playwright Lillian Hellman (1905-1984), crafted some of the most searingly honest plays ever produced by an American writer, beginning with her debut, the heart-wrenching 1934 drama The Children’s Hour (which was inspired by a true story). The play tells the story of two women who work hard to make their dream of creating a successful school for girls a reality. Their dreams are dashed as Mary, a malicious child, creates a lie claiming that the women are lovers. As the rumor spreads and society turns against them, the school is abandoned and the two women’s lives destroyed. Hellman’s play is a moving story of the devastating effects of a lie and the consequences of bigotry. An innocent woman takes her own life, and a prejudiced society thereafter has her blood on its hands.

Lillian Hellman

The Children’s Hour was a very controversial play when it was originally performed, being banned in Boston, London, and Chicago on account of the subject matter of homosexuality. Producers did not believe that American audiences were ready for the supposed lesbian relationship found in this play. Instead, in 1936, they released These Three, an altered version of Hellman’s play. Although Hellman herself wrote the screenplay, and although many of the scenes are nearly identical to those in The Children’s Hour, much of the story’s strength is lost because of the changes that were required due to the rules of the Production Code. Unlike the original play (and the film version of The Children’s Hour later produced in 1961), These Three is centered around a rumor of a heterosexual love triangle. Karen and Joe are in love, but in this version, Martha is secretly in love with Joe as well.

THESE THREE (1936)

These Three lacks the passion evoked in The Children’s Hour. The 1936 version begins with the college graduation ceremony of Karen (Merle Oberon) and Martha (Miriam Hopkins, who would later appear in the 1961 film as Martha’s Aunt Lily). We see a hasty, seemingly spontaneous idea between the two to start a school for girls:

Karen: “What are you going to do?”

Martha: “I don’t know; teach somewhere I guess, if I can get a job.”

Karen: “Do you think I could teach?”

Martha: “Maybe we could find someplace together. Two well-educated young women, also neat and clean, wish position.”

Karen: “Martha, that farm of mine. I haven’t seen it in years, but it’s a lovely old place. I used to spend my summers there when I was a little girl. We could go there. Why not? Why shouldn’t we? We could work there … Martha, we might start a school, something of our own. We’d be good at it, too.”

In the next scene, the two women travel to the house that Karen has inherited from her grandmother. They find it in a dilapidated state, full of rats and bees. It is in this scene that we first meet Dr. Joe (Joel McCrea). He is in the process of tearing down the roof and ridding the house of bees. He explains that, on his days off from the hospital, he comes to the old house to make repairs, simply because he likes the house. He is not the owner, nor does he have any ties to the family or house. Nonetheless, somehow he (a complete stranger to the women) is able to convince Martha and Karen to restore the old house in order to start their school:

Joe: “You know, my place was just as bad as this, but it didn’t cost much to fix it. Much less than you’d think. Borrow a little money from the bank, and it’s fun doing it. So much fun I’d like to start all over again … You know, I used to do an operation at the hospital and then run home to paint the left side of the house.”

Martha: “We wouldn’t starve anyway, Karen, we’d always have free honey.”

Joe: “And free help. I’m a good carpenter, a good house painter, and good plumber.”

Both women fall in love with Joe as they work together restoring the house, but it is Karen who wins his heart. Martha does not let either party know of her affections for Joe until the very end.

In this version, malicious little Mary (Bonita Granville) creates a rumor that Martha and Dr. Joe have had “relations,” although he is engaged to Karen. Instead of Joe defending the two women, as in the original play, we instead find Karen defending Joe and Martha. Mrs. Tillford (Alma Kruger), the women’s benefactor and Mary’s grandmother, directs a speech to Karen, advising her to “clean her house.” In the scene where Karen and Joe part ways, it is Karen who asks Joe whether the lie is true or not. Although they still break up as in the play, the couple ends up happily together in the end, after the truth comes out.

The 1961 version of The Children’s Hour, on the other hand, is a much darker, intensely passionate film, and much closer to the original intent of Hellman’s play. While These Three has a lighter mood and happy ending, The Children’s Hour is nothing short of utter tragedy.

The film begins with a happy, serene setting. There are schoolgirls riding their bikes in a single file line, running along a serene pond in the sunshine, a sweet piano recital. From the very beginning, however, it is Malicious Mary (Karen Balkin) who ruins the otherwise heavenly scene by frightening one of her classmates.

THE CHILDREN’S HOUR (1961)

In The Children’s Hour, there is a sense of the hard work that Martha (Shirley MacLaine) and Karen (Audrey Hepburn) have put into making the school a success. Near the beginning of the film, Karen and Martha are found drying dishes together as they discuss their progress with the school. Martha announces that for the first time ever, they have had a profitable month. It is clear to the viewer that these two women have invested their lives into making this school successful. Karen notes at one point, “I may be hasty, but I think it’s here to stay … it’s almost too good to believe.” Unfortunately, this is a dream that will be destroyed as a result of a child’s selfish lie.

Although many parts of these two films are nearly identical, and both were directed by the legendary William Wyler, the effect of each on the viewer is drastically different. Is it a result of the changes in the storyline? Is it the acting quality? To become fully invested in a film, the viewer needs to feel a connection to the characters–something that is admittedly easier with the latter version. The warmth and love associated with friendship is evident between Hepburn and MacLaine. The feelings that Martha has for Karen are also hinted at multiple times throughout the film. When they earn money, Karen suggests that they save it. Martha insists that Karen use the money to buy new clothes: “You’re a Fifth Avenue, Rue de la Paix. You need to be kept up.” Martha reminisces about meeting Karen: “I remember how you used to dress in college. The first time I ever saw you, running across the quadrangle, your hair flying … I remember thinking, ‘What a pretty girl.’” The love between the two women, romantic or otherwise, is much more evident in this film version.

The Children’s Hour ends with the death of an innocent woman, driven to suicide as the consequence of a child’s wicked and hateful nature. It’s a brutal, and brutally honest, ending. It is the colossal sense of grief demonstrated in the film–and in the original play–that leaves such a drastic and ultimately more profound impact on the viewer than does These Three.

This post is the first of several contributions True Classics will be making to the Queer Blogathon this week. Co-hosted by Garbo Laughs and Pussy Goes Grrr, the blogathon will feature posts about LGBT issues, images, and themes in films both classic and modern. Make sure to check out the wonderful entries that will be posted on each site!

Between Day and Night

Three Comrades (1938) is a love story about a boy and a girl … and their two friends.

When I originally read the description for this movie–“A World War I veteran and his two partners love a doomed woman in 1920s Germany”–I assumed that this would be just another film about a love tri … ahem, quadrangle. However, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that I was wrong. Erich (Robert Taylor) and Patricia (Margaret Sullavan) fall in love and marry, and Erich’s two war comrades, Otto (Franchot Tone) and Gottfried (Robert Young), are there to lovingly support the couple every step of the way. The loyalty and love in the friendship of these comrades is what makes the film so endearing. Erich and Patricia fall in love during a turbulent era, and their two friends are always there to ensure that they stay happily together.

Erich and Patricia meet when she is on a date with a German aristocrat. The three comrades race the arrogant Herr Breuer with their prized car, Baby. Although Baby is not much to look at, she is extremely fast. Erich is instantly drawn to Patricia, and his two friends act as wingmen to assist him in impressing her while keeping Herr Breuer busy. Patricia seems to be quite taken with Erich as well and gives him her phone number.

When Erich lies by telling his pal Gottfried that he threw away Patricia’s number, Gottfried reprimands him, and tells him that he doesn’t know how special a girl Patricia is. He describes her eyes, and, in an extremely creepy manner, describes her hands: “And her hands, long and slender. Like romaine salad. Otto and I appreciate such things …”

When Erich does decide to call her, his awkward attempt at courtship is quite charming:

Patricia: “Hello?”

Erich: “Uh, hello, this is that man.”

Patricia: “What man?”

Erich: “Oh, that man you met the other night.”

Patricia: “I’ve met lots of men on lots of other nights.”

Erich: “I don’t know exactly how to describe myself. I was one of the men that beat you.”

Patricia: “Really? You must have the wrong woman.”

Erich: “No, in our car, I mean.”

How could any girl refuse? Erich and Patricia go on a date to a bar where they run into Gottfried and Otto, and the friendship between the gang begins.

Three Comrades and a Lady

Later in the film, Erich and Patricia have a date to attend the opera. Erich, a poor taxi driver, doesn’t have a suitable tuxedo to wear. Otto and Gottfried help Erich get dressed by lending him their coat and jacket. Unfortunately, Erich can’t fit into the clothes, and so they tear them and tie them up. As long as Erich doesn’t remove his jacket (and doesn’t move much), no one should be able to tell that the clothes don’t fit. At the opera, Erich and Pat run into the arrogant Herr Breuer, who invites them to an after party. While they are dancing at the party, Erich’s jacket starts tearing and popping out of place. Although Pat tries to help him, he leaves her at the party, followed by hoots of laughter at his expense by her friends. Erich leaves and goes straight to the bar, where he meets Otto and Gottfried. He proceeds to get very drunk and assumes that it would be best to leave Pat with richer, more suitable men. He leaves the bar near dawn and finds Pat sleeping on his doorstep. She walked all the way in her beautiful new gown and slept in the cold as she waited for him to return. He wraps her in his arms to keep her warm:

Patricia:“I don’t want you ever to run away and leave me. It’s much warmer now, and this is a lovely time of day.”

Erich:“It isn’t day and it isn’t night.”

Patricia: “It’s the edge of eternity. Let’s stay right here forever.”

Erich: “Between day and night?”

Patricia: “It’s where we were born into. It’s where we belong.”

[They kiss.]

Erich: “You’re cold, Pat. Let me take you home.”

Patricia: “Take me home? How? I am home.”

Sigh.

Gottfried talks to Erich, attempting to talk him into marrying Pat, while Otto talks to Pat, attempting to talk her into marrying Erich: “I’ll tell you what’s wrong with you. You’re scared … scared of having any joy in your life because it will make it all the much harder if you lose it. You’re afraid. Now you’re not being fair, Pat. You’ve got to think of Erich now. You’re being a coward. You’re being selfish.”

Pat tells him it isn’t true, and admits that in actuality, she is ill. She’s afraid that her illness will return and that she will not be able to have a normal life with Erich.

Otto dismisses this, telling her, “Then live, Pat. Take the gamble. Stake your life on a love like yours and Erich’s every time.” He tells her not to tell Erich of her illness. He wants her only to live happily and to make Erich happy as well.

In the next scene, we see the wedding in the neighborhood bar. All the comrades are in attendance. After celebrating with their two friends, Erich and Patricia leave for a seaside honeymoon. Patricia attempts to do a pull-up on the boardwalk and suffers a hemorrhage. Her doctor is called and Otto risks his life driving like a madman to get the doctor to the hotel to save Pat’s life.

The Great Depression hits, and the three comrades struggle to earn a living. The doctor wants to give Pat surgery, but she is worried about the cost; nevertheless, Erich vows to get the money. When Erich tells Otto the cost, Otto tells him not to worry about it. He tells Erich that he will go back into town and return with the money the next day. Otto makes a great sacrifice in selling his beloved car, Baby. Erich and Pat are madly in love, and the actions of both Otto and Gottfried demonstrate that they love the couple dearly. They would do anything in the world, sacrifice anything, in order to keep Erich and Patricia happy.

Directed by Frank Borzage (known for his romantic tearjerkers) and adapted for the screen by novelist F. Scott Fitzgerald (with extensive edits by producer Joseph L. Mankiewicz), this film is one of wit, romance, and tragedy. Margaret Sullavan’s portrayal of an ill and doomed woman, full of  immense love for her husband and friends, earned her a nomination for the Academy Award for Best Actress that year.

Love: A Storm of Unhappiness

I have always been intrigued by stories of self-sacrifice and characters who doom themselves by doing the so-called “right thing.” When watching movies, I find myself rooting for characters to follow their hearts, regardless of the consequences. Things that I would never approve of in the real world, I champion in fiction. Outcast Lady (1934) is one of those films in which I find myself yelling at the screen, “Just tell him the truth! You can be in love; you can be happy!” But alas, I suppose it would have made a much shorter and less-interesting film. Outcast Lady, directed by Robert Z. Leonard, is the story of a woman who loses everything that matters to her in the world in order to do what she feels is necessary to protect the honor of her late husband and the idolized man her brother holds so dear.

The movie is based on a controversial play called The Green Hat (1924) by Michael Arlen, which was previously filmed in 1928 under the name A Woman of Affairs, starring Greta Garbo and John Gilbert and directed by Clarence Brown. Woman retains much more of the sensational material from the play. But as Outcast Lady was filmed after stricter enforcement of the Production Code began in 1934, the script was severely watered down. In place of the racier themes of the earlier film, screenwriters Zoe Akins and Monckton Hoffe heightened the sentimental elements of the plot to tearjerking levels.

Childhood sweethearts Iris March (the beautiful Constance Bennett) and Napier Harpenden (Herbert Marshall) find themselves utterly in love and plan to marry; however, their plans for romance are dashed by Napier’s father, who disapproves of Iris and her family (Iris’s brother Gerald is a raging alcoholic and gambler). Napier tells Iris that he must travel to India to fulfill his father’s wishes of a great career for his son, and promises to return to marry her one day. Iris waits several years for his return, but eventually begins to believe that he will never return for her. Instead, she marries Gerald’s best friend, Boy Fenwick (Ralph Forbes), another of their childhood playmates. Gerald (Hugh Williams) idolizes Boy, believing him to be almost saint-like. Gerald’s love and worship of Boy is evident, and he begs his sister on her wedding day to be a good wife: “You’re Boy’s wife now, and if you ever forget it, I hope he beats you. Now do be good.” He knows that his sister is still in love with her childhood sweetheart, Napier, but he hopes that she and Boy can have a happy marriage regardless.

Iris is indeed a dutiful and devoted wife (at least, for their one day of matrimony). On the first night of their marriage, she reads a note given to her by a stranger, explaining that her new husband had been imprisoned for an unspoken, horrible crime. Iris attempts to console Boy; at first, she tells him that she completely dismisses the allegation. However, Boy admits the truth in the allegation.

Boy: “I’ve seen you in my mind a thousand times when you found this out. I’ve seen you take it just like this; of course, I hoped you would. But now …”

Iris: “Don’t worry. I’ll never speak of it again … I won’t even think of it.”

Although his wife is completely forgiving and understanding, Boy cannot handle the fact that she now knows his dark secret. He locks the door to the hotel room and leaps from the window. When confronted about his death, Iris refuses to allow the men who found the note to reveal it to the public: “The truth must not be known…When he saw the horror that must have come into my face, I suppose he tried to atone by it… I won’t have them made public. He has atoned; he’s dead. What good will it do the world to know why he died. Please, if you want to help me, say nothing. Nothing!” Iris sacrifices her own reputation and chance of happiness in life in order to protect her late husband’s good name, as well as to spare her brother from the realization that his dear friend was not as perfect as he believed.

The doctor who finds her husband’s body explains to family friend Hilary (Robert Loraine): “Mrs. Fenwick doesn’t realize that if the public thinks her husband committed suicide on his wedding night, her own reputation may be blackened.” Nevertheless, Iris refuses to make public the knowledge of her husband’s motive for suicide. Everyone blames Iris for his death. Her name is dragged through newspapers; her own friends and family condemn her. Her drunken and enraged brother confronts her with his accusations: “Boy is dead because Iris wasn’t good enough for him. I’ve always known it, and in the end, he knew it too, and it killed him. Why shouldn’t she be blamed?” He vows never to forgive his sister for causing the death of his friend.

For his part, Napier, too, has difficulty accepting Iris’ supposed part in Boy’s death:

Iris: “Boy died deliberately because he found he made a mistake in marrying me.”

Napier: “You don’t know what you’re doing: what you’re making people think … But Iris, this can’t be true that Boy killed himself because of something you’d done. Say it isn’t!”

Iris: “What difference does it make?”

Napier: “It means that if it is true, I couldn’t forgive you either.”

Iris: “There’s no question of forgiveness at a time like this. One simply loves or doesn’t love.”

Napier: “I’ve loved you more than you’ll ever know. I can forgive you for wrecking my life, but not your own.”

As a result of Boy’s mysterious death, Iris is outcast by her friends and family. Boy was thought to be a most honorable man; the idea that Iris could have done something so horrific that Boy would kill himself makes her a social pariah. She travels far, but the rumors of her husband’s mysterious death follow her everywhere. She stays away for many years, and Napier, believing her responsible for Boy’s death, eventually becomes engaged to another woman. Because she refuses to tell the truth about Boy’s dark past, Iris’s chance of happiness in life is ruined. Thus, she chooses the happiness of her brother over her own.

Hilary: “Iris, why did you insist on ruining yourself by lying?”

Iris: “I wanted Gerald to keep his love for his dead friend. It’s my gift to his future.”

After several years of travel, Iris receives a letter from Hilary, warning her of Gerald’s ill health. Despite her intentions of saving her brother from destitution, he drinks himself to death in his hatred toward her. Hilary implores her to confess the truth to Gerald: “Iris, your gallantry hasn’t saved Joe. Don’t you think he needs your love and care more than his belief in Boy Fenwick? Let me tell him why Boy died. You know he’d never tell anyone else.” Iris agrees, but Gerald refuses to see her when she comes to care for him, and she is not able to tell him goodbye before he dies. He does, however, tell Hilary to send his love to his sister, and to tell her his hatred has washed away.

Iris’s gallantry, which has ruined not only her own life, but potentially the lives of her brother and Napier, proves to be ineffective in the end. This tragic film is tailor-made for those who enjoy unrequited love and enough suicides to make Shakespeare jealous.

Robert Osborne “Playing Favorites”

What’s the next best thing to watching Robert Osborne on TCM?

Listening to him on Siriusly Sinatra on my hour drive home from work!

Robert Osborne has style … tell us something we don’t know, Sirius!

I’m not surprised to learn that Mr. Osborne has such good taste in music, considering he’s a demigod.

Some of his favorites include:

Jack Jones – “She Loves Me”

Frank Sinatra – “Here’s to the Band”; “Brooklyn Bridge”; “Style”

Fred Astaire – “Change Partners”

Aside from commenting on these artists and works, he also spoke of his brief stint as an actor, working with Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz!