Ah, yes– in a frantic display of 60s kookiness and racial harmony, the meat delivery kid dances on-screen, picks up the assistant maid, and they then both dance their way completely out of the narrative. It's progressive, out of place, and completely nuts– just the way I like it!
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Curabitur et lectus vitae purus tincidunt laoreet sit amet ac ipsum. Proin tincidunt mattis nisi a scelerisque. Aliquam placerat dapibus eros non ullamcorper. Integer interdum ullamcorper venenatis. Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas.
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Curabitur et lectus vitae purus tincidunt laoreet sit amet ac ipsum. Proin tincidunt mattis nisi a scelerisque. Aliquam placerat dapibus eros non ullamcorper. Integer interdum ullamcorper venenatis. Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas.
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Curabitur et lectus vitae purus tincidunt laoreet sit amet ac ipsum. Proin tincidunt mattis nisi a scelerisque. Aliquam placerat dapibus eros non ullamcorper. Integer interdum ullamcorper venenatis. Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas.
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Curabitur et lectus vitae purus tincidunt laoreet sit amet ac ipsum. Proin tincidunt mattis nisi a scelerisque. Aliquam placerat dapibus eros non ullamcorper. Integer interdum ullamcorper venenatis. Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas.
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Curabitur et lectus vitae purus tincidunt laoreet sit amet ac ipsum. Proin tincidunt mattis nisi a scelerisque. Aliquam placerat dapibus eros non ullamcorper. Integer interdum ullamcorper venenatis. Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas.
Monday, November 12, 2012
Only now does it occur to me... GUESS WHO'S COMING TO DINNER
Ah, yes– in a frantic display of 60s kookiness and racial harmony, the meat delivery kid dances on-screen, picks up the assistant maid, and they then both dance their way completely out of the narrative. It's progressive, out of place, and completely nuts– just the way I like it!
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Film Review: STATE OF THE UNION (1948, Frank Capra)
Stars: 4.5 of 5.Running Time: 124 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Spencer Tracy, Katherine Hepburn, Angela Lansbury, Van Johnson (THE CAINE MUTINY, BRIGADOON), Adolphe Menjou (PATHS OF GLORY, A FAREWELL TO ARMS), Margaret Hamilton (13 GHOSTS, THE WIZARD OF OZ). Based on the play by Howard Lindsay and and Russel Crouse (LIFE WITH FATHER, THE SOUND OF MUSIC). Screenplay by Anthony Veiller (THE KILLERS '46, THE STRANGER) and Myles Connolly.
Tag-line: "How's the state of the union? IT'S GREAT!" Not quite nailing the nuance, there.
Best one-liner: "No woman could ever run for President. She'd have to admit she's over thirty-five."

STATE OF THE UNION feels ridiculously prescient, though I suppose it's arrogant to believe that the problems of our era are in any way unique. We've got fights over government deregulation, pre-nomination doubletalk, fear-mongering politicians, a media kingmaking "primary" that's more important than the actual votes (see the much-spoken of "Murdoch Primary" for comparison) - the film even boldly dares to ask if there's any real difference between Democrats and Republicans anymore. And the line "Politicians have remained professionals only because the voters have remained amateurs!" has to be one of my favorite zingers in the history of political cinema.

I don't want to say too much about the plot, but it involves Spencer Tracy as an industrialist ("Any man's made as much money as him is a good sound American") who's pushed into running for president by the kingmakers and who decides to do anything he can to get the nomination. The respective angel and devil on his shoulders are his reluctant, conscionable wife (Katherine Hepburn) and the ruthless, power-hungry media magnate (Angela Lansbury). And, as anyone will attest, an evil Lansbury in your movie is always a good thing. (Futhermore, Lansbury is the most vicious, calculating character in a movie whose cast includes Margaret Hamilton, the Wicked Witch of the West!)

Evil Lansbury refuses to acknowledge the help.
So go see STATE OF THE UNION. It's pretty damn good, and it's extremely damn relevant. Which makes it all the more hilarious that Google offered the old chestnut "I'm sorry, did you mean to search for XXX 2: STATE OF THE UNION?"
So on to my secondary point: I watched STATE OF THE UNION later on the same day that I rewatched BARTON FINK, which is probably my favorite Coen brothers film. I was treated to some extremely bizarre and possibly intentional coincidences; some so specific that I probably never would have noticed them had I not happened to view the films back to back. Since the Coens love to repackage and adapt past works (CUTTER'S WAY and THE BIG SLEEP become THE BIG LEBOWSKI, THE GLASS KEY and RED HARVEST become MILLER'S CROSSING, etc.), I'm probably not way off base here.
Now, both BARTON FINK and STATE OF THE UNION are both set in the 1940s, so there's nothing extraordinary about overlapping fashion and decor and popular slang of the time like calling guys "heels," yet, as I watched on, these general tonal similarities began to strike me as odd. And, you know, Judy Davis is kind of like 1991's answer to Katherine Hepburn in her own way.


There's nothing terribly remarkable about that. But then I realized that the plots are basically the same– a man fighting to be in touch with the common man is whisked from one opportunity to another by soulless and strange entourages and handlers who use him as a tool to advance their own self-interests. Also, both films take place largely within the confines of hotel rooms. And, hey!– there's even a creepy little bellhop who prefigures the bizarre-itude of Buscemi in BARTON FINK.


Then, IMDB lists the infamous (of Ed Wood, Jr. fame) Tor Johnson as an uncredited wrestler. It must have been a blink and you'll miss it walk-on, because I must have blinked and missed him, but aficionados of BARTON FINK will take note of the wrestling connection.
But finally, the last parallel, and the one that vindicates my craziness: there's a scene whereupon Tracy and Hepburn are going through the campaign mail bag. They finish reading a letter and marvel, in a strange little moment, about how it's signed "Madman Mundt..."


...who is John Goodman in BARTON FINK!
I'm not sure what I've proven, precisely, outside of "The Coen brothers must love STATE OF THE UNION," but I suppose I'll take that.
-Sean Gill