She feels that every one of our children will be President of the United States, and they'll all have colorful administrations...

Guess Who's Coming To Dinner has, at least on the surface, a very simple plot. However, befitting the movie's main theme, one must look below the surface to truly appreciate the film.

The central theme of the movie is very clear. Race relations was and continues to be an important social issue, and this movie gives a sensitive and realistic portrayal of one such conflict. Though interracial marriage is no longer the taboo (or crime, in some places, as one of Matt Drayton's arguments went) that it was in the 1960's, the private reactions of both John's and Joey's parents are just as applicable today. In fact, I found it almost eerie how modern this 40-year-old film really is; the quote I used as the title of this post, for example, makes it almost too perfect to watch today, the day that the son of a black man and white woman (exactly the interracial pairing being depicted) was in fact sworn in as President of the United States.

Because that part of the movie is so powerful it may be easy to overlook the plot's other aspects, but something else caught my eye. The relationship between parents and children is also a very important theme, although the struggle between the couple and their parents seems secondary to the conflict the parents are experiencing within themselves, but I found Joey's relationship with her family and John's relationship with his to be very compelling.

What first caught my attention was the scene when John and his father speak privately in Matt's office. Mr. Prentice argues that after all he sacrificed for John's well-being, John owes him respect and obedience. John counters that his father was required to provide for him every opportunity that he could, and that he is owed nothing in repayment for doing his parental duties. What struck me about this conversation was how clearly I could understand and even agree with both sides. The problem, and it is a common problem that plagues all kinds of relationships between all kinds of people, is that both Mr. Prentice and the younger Prentice take the most extreme viewpoints on their respective sides of the argument, rendering them each incapable of seeing the other's point of view. It's especially interesting to examine this type of conflict against the background of the racial tension in the film, in which each person takes a far more complex position that results in a difficulty understanding themselves as well as each other.

Mr. Prentice did work hard and sacrifice to give his son every possible chance at success, and I found John's ingratitude appalling. However, there is a point at which parents lose the right to dictate their children's decisions, and that point comes long before the child reaches age 37. At the same time, although I firmly believe that parents owe their children nothing less than the best shot at a good life that the parent can provide, they also deserve respect for carrying out that arduous duty. Respect does not mean living your life according to your parents' terms, but it does require keeping a civil tongue even when disagreeing with them. When John told his father to "Shut up," I cringed -- and come to think of it, I felt similarly when Matt uttered the same expression to Joey, although in that case it was played in a humorous light. I wasn't quite uncomfortable the second time, however, because overall the relationship between Joey and her father had been one of mutual respect throughout the film. That element was certainly missing from John's relationship with his dad.

Although the movie revolved around an interracial relationship, I thought that this side point added an interesting commentary on the nature of relationships in general, whether romantic, parental, platonic, or whathaveyou. It's just one more way that this amazing film continues to be very much relevant today, and one more reason why it's such a classic.

We don't need each other anymore. When that happens to two people, there's nothing left...

As I mentioned once before, my interest in classic movies began when I caught a late-night airing of Penny Serenade on one of the local PBS channels. I was in high school at the time and had no idea who Irene Dunne was; I recognized Cary Grant's name in the credits but couldn't begin to guess which character he played, and afterwards couldn't remember whether it had been him or Clark Gable. Without a title or even clear memory of the film's stars, it took me ages to even figure out what I'd seen.

I haven't seen the movie since, so naturally when I came across the title in the TV listings -- another 2 a.m. showing on PBS, of course -- I couldn't resist staying up to watch it. And, because it was so important in my own personal film history, I decided to pull myself out of this blogging slump I've fallen into over winter break. I can't promise to stay up and watch the whole thing this go-around (I'm actively trying to break the habit of staying up until 4), but as long as I'm watching I thought I'd try making a live post. We'll see how that goes.

I'm about twenty minutes in, and... hi there, foreshadowing. I missed the beginning of the movie last time, so I remember that they were in financial trouble but I thought they'd just always been broke.

Aaand, the earthquake was a huge surprise. I clearly still have a lot to learn about social standards of the era, because I had no idea that they could portray a miscarriage in film back then. The hospital scene was superbly acted, not that I could expect anything less. Irene Dunne's quiet grief and Cary Grant's fumbling attempts at consoling her with the idea of material things were heartbreaking.

It's a little disconcerting to hear children spoken about like goods to be shopped for, but I like that the caseworker pointed out how many parents want blue-eyed blonde-haired toddlers, because that's a trend that continues even today. I'm glad that they don't get exactly the type of child they want, but the way the caseworker describes their baby as "unique" and "like no other child" kind of grates. Can infants be Mary Sues?

The idea of a baby coming with instructions seems endlessly amusing to me. I'll admit I know less than nothing about small children, but I'm pretty sure that doesn't ever happen. A schedule, okay, but... instructions? Really?

Now Roger's just leaving for court to finalize Trina's adoption, and I'm fairly certain this is where I started watching the first time I saw this movie. The hopeful not-quite-goodbye among the little family was probably what drew me in. Roger's speech to the judge is passionate and powerful, and one of the few movie scenes that was immediately imprinted onto my memory after just one viewing. Now, watching it for the second time around, I can also appreciate the way that Roger's character has developed over the course of the film from a frivolous bachelor into a devoted and responsible father.

I don't have much to say about the scenes with six-year-old Trina, because honestly I find the child actress completely distracting. Moving along, that mother and little boy just happening to break down on their way to a Christmas pageant is cruel even for fictional characters. It works as a catalyst for Roger's final decision to leave, but Julie's reaction seems strange considering she hadn't even wanted him to go out for a walk. I'm a little confused as to how Julie ended up being the one to walk out.

The conversation between Roger and Julie recounting their regrets about the last days of Trina's life is poignant and something most people who've lost loved ones can relate to. Even though I know the movie "has" to have a happy ending, it's still jarring when their dream child suddenly falls into their lap right after that. The whole ending makes me a little uncomfortable, from the designer baby factor to the grieving parents' immediate and enthusiastic repurposing of their deceased daughter's room. Still, that's just a brief scene tacked on to the end of an otherwise good movie. It was definitely worth seeing, and even worth staying up this late for. I'm sure I'll watch it again.

The 20 Favorite Actresses Meme

With many thanks to Nicole and C. K. Dexter Haven for tagging me, here are my 20 five (sorry, but it's finals week and even picking these few took longer than I thought) favorite actresses. It'll be interesting to look back on this in a few months or a year or so and see how my tastes change.


Bette Davis


Ingrid Bergman


Ginger Rogers


Katharine Hepburn


Carole Lombard

Did anyone ever tell you that you have a dishonest face?

As a former Catholic school student, I'm used to seeing overwhelmingly negative depictions in the media. The Bells of St. Mary's, therefore, turned out to be a very welcome surprise. Despite the myriad differences between Catholic schools of the 40's and Catholic schools of the 90's and 2000's, I could relate to this film far more easily than any modern portrayal I've seen.

The story revolves around a priest, Father O'Malley (Bing Crosby) who is assigned to oversee a school headed by Sister Mary Benedict (Ingrid Bergman). They both have dramatically opposing viewpoints and clash throughout the film, but each is rooted in what they believe is truly best for the children in their care; this is very true to my own experiences with priests and nuns in educational settings, so I appreciated the care given to both points of view.

One theme of the movie hit especially close to home for me, and that was the financial troubles facing St. Mary's. Unfortunately, this is one issue that hasn't changed over the years. My former elementary school was forced to shut its doors a few years ago, as was the other school in the same town, the elementary school that was attached to my former high school, and another high school in the diocese, just to name a few examples. Sister Benedict's prayers for a miracle were particularly touching since I've seen firsthand that often in those situations, nothing short of a miracle will help.

I obviously enjoyed this movie on a personal level, but as a film itself it was definitely worth watching. Bergman and Crosby are a wonderful match, and their good-natured quarreling is highly amusing, especially as they slowly learn to see from each other's perspectives (Sister Benedict as a boxing instructor, anyone?). The "miracle" they finally receive is more than a bit far-fetched, but it works in context and is a nice way to wrap up that part of the story.

I also really liked Patsy's side plot, because I think her revelation at the end is something anyone can relate to -- who hasn't hesitated to leave someplace that had become a second home? Even now as a college student I joke about deliberately failing a semester or two just to postpone graduation, so I knew exactly what Patsy was feeling. Sister Benedict's leniency here showed just how well she understood her students. Art-to-life ratio aside, I think the principal characters' dedication to the students is what makes this film work as well as it does.

No man is a failure who has friends...

It's A Wonderful Life is my dad's favorite holiday movie, and so it's played in the backgroud of more Christmas Eve gatherings and winter-break Sundays than I can remember. I've seen this movie more times than I can count, however I never really sat down and watched it. For years I dismissed it as just another overrated holiday special; my distaste for the movie continued even after I discovered that black and white movies themelves weren't the dull artifacts I'd assumed them to be. Last night, however, I took a much-needed break from finals week to watch the film as part of the Honors film series I've been attending all semester (it replaced Tommy Boy, which is apparently not academic enough). I felt like I was watching it for the first time. Despite the myriad viewings I whined my way through for years, I had somehow managed to miss large chunks of the story that turned out to be fairly important to differentiating the movie itself from its many parodies and imitations.

For example: Potter. I was vaguely aware that the plot involved a miserly old man, but I never picked up on the Potter's Field and Potterville and other references, and I definitely never realized just how much screen time he really got. And speaking of characters I never paid attention to, has there always been an Uncle Billy in this movie? Thomas Mitchell put in a wonderful performance here as the good-hearted but bumbling drunkard, and I'm glad to have finally taken notice of it.

I also have to say that it was the first time I really saw James Stewart as a good dramatic actor. He's always kind of struck me as kind of an overgrown kid, with those lanky limbs and that boyish face, and I usually associate him with lighter comedic roles, such as Macauley 'Mike' Connor in The Philadelphia Story. He starts out a typical good guy in this film, too, but by the time George Bailey hits rock bottom, when he's sitting in Martini's getting drunk and praying for a miracle, I absolutely believe Stewart as a man with no visible way out.

While I don't think It's A Wonderful Life will ever be my favorite movie, my dad can look forward to a much less-protested viewing this Christmas. Seeing it as a movie instead of an obligatory family tradition was certainly an interesting experience. It also makes me wonder what other movies might go unappreciated just because they're so omnipresent. Have you ever come across a film you've already seen twenty million times, only to really see it on viewing twenty million and one?

Parce que vous ne pleurez pas...

Now that National Novel-Writing Month is over, I'm hopefully going to be focusing on this blog a lot more. To celebrate my sixth victorious year in a row, I'm going to do something a bit different -- like discussing a movie that was filmed during my own lifetime. Quelle horreur!

The movie in question is actually a French trilogy from the 1990's, which I had the opportunity to watch over the last three Tuesdays in November thanks to Rowan's International Center. Directed by Kryzystof Kieślowski, each film in Trois Couleurs ("Three Colors") represents a color of the French flag and an ideal of the French revolution -- Bleu for liberté, Blanc/Bialy for égalité, and Rouge for fraternité. Each movie's IMDb page bills the films as a trilogy about French society, but I found them to be more portraits of individuals who could conceivably represent anyone from anywhere under the right (or horribly wrong) circumstances.

Bleu, the first film and my favorite of the three, is about a woman who essentially attempts to stop living after losing her husband and daughter in a car crash. Life, however, finds her anyway as she is drawn into forging new connections with her late husband's colleague, her new neighbor, and even her husband's mistress. It's followed by Blanc, which tells the story of a man who returns to his native Poland after his wife humiliates and divorces him due to his impotence. He establishes a friendship with a suicidal family man, and carries out an elaborate scheme of revenge against his ex-wife. The final film, Rouge, details the unlikely connection between a model and a reclusive retired judge, whom she discovers eavesdropping on his neighbors.

The trilogy is in French, except for Blanc which is largely in Polish, but much of the story is told through actions, emotions, and visual symbols rather than words. Each movie's title color figures heavily into the composition of each scene. These movies would not fall into the category of light entertainment; they are frenzied and thought-provoking, with abrupt endings that require a minute or two to digest. The subtle ways in which the three films are connected suggest something about the universality of life, even as each character seems completely isolated. The films function both on their own and as a whole; if you have the chance to see one or all of them, don't pass it up.

You were Garbo, smoke and deceit...

Raquelle posted a list of some of the strangest search terms that people used to find her most excellent blog, and it was so amusing I just had to go and check my own stats. I haven't been around for very long, so this is going to be a short list, but hopefully... well, at the very least it'll be an interesting one.

movies about college professors "1990 2008"
Well, I did start this blog for a college class, under the direction of a professor. It's conceivable that I'll also write about a movie about college professors at some point, although this person's time period is somewhat later than my usual cuppa tea.

lawyers should never marry other lawyers
Win!

groping clip
Um...?

"lawyers should never marry other lawyers"
Win! Still!

gaslight anthem
Not quite, but: Hee. I have a minor obsession with this band. Classic movie star references, Central Jersey shout-outs -- what more could I ask for?

Oh, Google. You know me so well.