Don't Make a Scene: To Have and Have Not

The Story:  The "other" celebrity death this week stood in marked contrast to the other one. Betty Joan Perske, whose stage-name was Lauren Bacall, died last week one month shy of her 90th birthday. If we can mourn the succumbing to weakness, we should celebrate strength as represented by the tough, stalwart life of Betty Joan Perske Bogart Robards.

Betty Joan was 19 when the wife of Howard Hawks, Nancy Keith (known as "Slim") saw her on the cover of Harper's Bazaar (see below). Hawks was working on an adaptation of what he considered Ernest Hemingway's worst story "To Have and Have Not" and Hemingway agreeing with him, the two worked out an adaptation story, which was hammered into shape by Jules Furthman and William Faulkner (and re-written, constantly (as was his wont) by Hawks. Bogart was attached to star and Hawks had informed him "you are probably the most insolent man on the screen and I'm going to make the girl a little more insolent than you are." Then, Nancy brought him that Bazaar cover and Betty's die, and "the girl" was cast. Hawks was known for creating strong female characters in his films, but Lauren Bacall was something else. She was the equal to her male co-star and the two acknowledged it in their performances.  

The story is that Hawks made her go into the Hollywood hills and scream (or read lines at the top of her lungs depending on what story you hear) until her high voice frayed and husked into the feminine purr it became, a mature voice that carried authority from her first performance. "Slim" Keith developed her style and Hawks her attitude and screen persona.

And then there was Bogart. "I saw your screen test," he told her. "We're going to have a lot of fun together."  In that test, Bacall was nervous and her face and voice quivered in tension. To fight it, she lowered her head, chin to chest, and cast her eyes upward. It became "The Look," what Bacall would become known for. And in the first two weeks of filming To Have and Have Not, when Bogart and Bacall did most of their scenes together, it became apparent to everyone on-set that sparks were flying between the two. So much so that Hawks (who probably had romantic designs on Bacall as well) decided to chastise her (and Bogart), but finally acknowledged that whatever was happening was electrifying his movie. Bogart was 44. She was 19. Hollywood is full of fantasy May-December romances on-screen. But "Bogey and Baby" (as they became known) stuck. There was no fantasy. They married in 1945, made four films together, had two kids, and were together until Bogart's death from cancer in 1957. For the rest of her life, she was Bogey's wife—but not his widow. "Being a widow is not a profession," she told Michael Parkinson in an interview. She dated Sinatra. She married Jason Robards—it lasted eight years.

She died last week, Betty Joan Perske Bacall Bogart Robards, born in the Bronx of two Jewish emigrees, Natalie Weinstein-Bacal (Romanian) and William Perske (Polish). She was stalwart and true. Fiery and flinty. She persevered, almost defiantly. She stood up to some of the strongest men in Hollywood, and was a game collaborator with some of the strongest actors in the town. She could be soft and a battle-axe. She lived a lifetime, of both pain and joy, in the glare of the spotlight, and made it to the age of 89.

She was magnificent.

The Set-Up: Harry Morgan (Humphrey Bogart) an independent fishing tour captain is having his independence challenged on several fronts, it being World War II and all.  Not friendly with the Vichy government in Martinique, he takes a job smuggling a French resistance activist aboard his boat. The reason he's doing it is rather contrary: he's looking to book passage for an American stuck on the island, one Marie Browning, (Bacall), whom he nick-names "Slim," and for whom a serious romance is starting to catch fire. He's basically doing a job he doesn't want to do to get rid of a girl he doesn't want to get rid of.

Hmmph.  Men!

The smuggling operation goes badly with the wounding of the patriot. Cutting the bullet out of his charge, Morgan stays with his "patient" and the man's wife (Dolores Moran) while he recuperates in a temporary hiding place. It is morning, and the sun has just come up on a short and troubled night.

Then Marie walks in.

Action!

HARRY Why'd you ever come along with him on a trip like this? 

Mme.DE BASAAC I loved him. Wanted to be with him. 

HARRY That's a reason. 

Mme.de BURSAC There's another reason. They told me to come. Our people did. 

Mme.de BURSAC They said, they said no man was much good if he left someone behind in France for the Germans to find and hold.

HARRY Makes sense. 
Mme.de BURSAC I told them that I'd only be in the way. 

Mme.de BURSAC That I could do no good. That I was afraid. 

Mme.de BURSAC But the worst of it is it's been so hard for him to have me along. Because I've made him that way too. Now he's afraid. 

 HARRY Well, he didn't invent it. 

Mme.de BURSAC Invent what? 
HARRY Being afraid. 

Mme.de BURSAC Thanks, Mr. Morgan. 

HARRY Well, the fever is gone. 
Mme.de BURSAC Do- 
HARRY I'm no doctor, but he looks good to me. 

HARRY If he wakes up give him another one of these pills.

Mme.de BURSAC Mr. Morgan. 

Mme.de BURSAC Mr. Morgan -I-

Mme.de BURSAC -I- 

HARRY You're not going to faint again? 

Mme.de BURSAC No. I'm just having a hard time trying to say something. 
HARRY Go ahead, say it. I'm not going to bite you. 

Mme.de BURSAC Well, if it hadn't been for you, Paul might have-

Mme.de BURSAC I'm sorry for the way I've acted. 

HARRY Oh, you're not sorry at all. You're just sorry you made a fool of yourself. 

Mme.de BURSAC I have haven't I? 
HARRY Uh-huh. 

Mme.de BURSAC You don't make me angry when you say that. 

Mme.de BURSAC I don't think I'll ever be angry again with anything you say. 

HARRY Another screwy dame. 

HARRY Now how can you- 

MARIE Morning. 

MARIE I hate to break this up but I brought some breakfast. 

Mme.de BURSAC Morning. 
MARIE How's your patient? 

HARRY Oh, he'll be all- 
MARIE Or haven't you looked lately? 

HARRY He'll be all right. 

HARRY I'll be back this evening. If you need me before then be sure and call me. 
Mme.de BURSAC I will. 

MARIE Yes, and I hope you have everything you need here. The eggs may be a little hard boiled- 

Mme.de BURSAC That's all right. I like them that way. 
MARIE You're lucky. 

MARIE Isn't she? 

HARRY I'm gonna get some sleep. I'll see you later. 

MARIE Thanks. 

HARRY What do you want? 
MARIE I could use a match. 

MARIE Thanks. Now I need a cigarette. 

MARIE Here, I can do that. 

HARRY Look. 

MARIE Oh, come on let me help. 

HARRY Look, when I get ready to take my shoes off, I'll take them off myself. 

MARIE All right. 

MARIE Want something to eat? 
HARRY No. 
MARIE Just a little breakfast. 

HARRY All I want to do is get some sleep. 

MARIE It's a good idea. 

MARIE I can help you there. 

HARRY Hey, now where are you going? 

MARIE I'm going to fix you a nice hot bath. It'll make you sleep better. 

HARRY Look, Junior. I don't want you to take my shoes off, I don't want you to get me any breakfast,

HARRY I don't want you to draw me a nice hot bath. I don't want you to - 

MARIE Isn't there anything I can do Steve? 

HARRY Yes, get the- 
MARIE You know Mr. Morgan, you don't make me angry when you say that. 

MARIE I don't think I'll ever be angry again... 

MARIE ...at anything you say. 

MARIE How am I doing, Steve? Does it work the second time?

HARRY You've been wanting to do something for me, haven't you?

MARIE Mm-hmm. 
HARRY "Mm-hmm."

HARRY Walk around me. 

HARRY Go ahead, walk around me. 

HARRY Clear around. 

HARRY Did you find anything? 
MARIE No. 

MARIE No, Steve. There are no strings tied to you. 

MARIE Not yet. 

MARIE Oh, I liked that. 

MARIE Except for the beard. 

MARIE Why don't you shave and... 

MARIE ...and we'll try it again. 

FRENCHY Harry. 
HARRY Later, Frenchy. 

FRENCHY No, Harry, wait. Renard Inspector is down stairs. You'd better come down. 
HARRY I can't do that. I got to get a shave. 

FRENCHY He's got Eddie. 

HARRY He's what-
FRENCHY Eddie. He's giving him drinks and asking him questions. 

HARRY I was afraid of that. 

HARRY Good thing you didn't get me in that tub. 

MARIE Look out for those strings, Steve. 

MARIE You're liable to trip and break your neck. 

FRENCHY Strings, I didn't see any strings. 

MARIE They just don't show, Frenchy.

To Have and Have Not

Words by Jules Furthman and William Faulkner

Pictures by Sidney Hickox and Howard Hawks

To Have and Have Not is available on DVD from Warner Home Video.

 

If Heaven exists, this is what I imagine it is for these two souls

Guardians of the Galaxy

The Un--usual Suspects
or
The A-Hole Team,  ("But Not 100% a Dick")

Marvel Studios takes a side-step away from super-hero movies with Guardians of the Galaxy to try another genre of film, the space adventure (something that is somewhat tangential in the "Thor" series) with a super-toe dipped into the comedy dunk-tank. A good thing, too. The latest bunch of Marvel films (post-Avengers) seem ready to atrophy, and are beginning to feel like the same movie over and over again, concluding with a "Really Big Flying Thing smashing into a city-scape."* A little of that goes a long way. Especially after 9/11.

But, it's mixed in with the "Motley Crew" adventure film, where a disparate group of specialists from various walks of life come together as a unit for a common goal (after a requisite period of squabbling and marking each other's territory). Think Seven Samurai and its progeny, and, in comics, The Justice Society and the medium's various "team" books. For this film, Marvel decided to go with the 2008 version of GOTG (cobbled together by Dan Abnett and Andy Lanning), rather than the 1969 Arnold Drake version, set in the 31st Century—the various super-beings of that group being largely unrelatable and obscure.

Not that the 2008 crew were any more well-known—their series lasted a mere 25 issues where the first lasted 62—but they are less cosmic in nature and more human in attributes and sensibilities. Its most famous member is probably Rocket Raccoon (who has appeared in various Marvel comics, and is voiced here by Bradley Cooper in a performance that is so distinctive, it doesn't once remind you of Bradley Cooper), because who doesn't love a a laser-blasting procyonid?**  It also has a fully-functioning human character in Peter Quill (Chris Pratt)—who calls himself "Star-Lord"—hijacked by space-pirates from Earth, as a boy.  The group feels like a more species-diverse version of Joss Whedon's "Firefly" crew—and that group's leader was played by Nathan Fillion, who appeared in Gunn's previous movie Super (which we looked at earlier this week) and who provides a vocal performance in GOTG. 

"Who doesn't love a laser-blasting procyonid?"

Guardians begins with the de rigeur origin story of Quill's abduction and his obsession with a mix-tape from the 70's (an "Awesome Mix Tape" which, indeed, imbues the movie with a lot of its good feelings—like the sight of Star-Lord dancing over the Main Titles to Redbone's "Come and Get Your Love" which is oddly perfect), while, Indiana Jones-ing, he grabs an orb of some significance.  It is the movie's "McGuffin" and will contain a secret "thing" that the villains of the movie want, but the heroes are unaware of its significance or worth.  

Now, stay with me here. Quill ("I'm a junker, dude!") has the orb. His pirate boss, Yondu Udonta (Michael Rooker) of the Kree wants it, too. So does Ronan (Lee Pace) "The Accuser" (not much of a nick-name, frankly) in his capacity for Thanos (Josh Brolin—the character hasn't been seen since the first "Thor" movie's post-credit sequence). Thanos' adopted daughter Gamora (Zoe Saldana—she's green this time) is after the orb for Daddy. Rocket and his pal, the tree-thing Groot (voiced by Vin Diesel, minimally) want Quill for the bounty on his head.  But they cause such a ruckus in town on the planet Xandar, they get the attention of the local constabulary, The Nova Corps (led by Glenn Close, with John C. Reilly as the corpsman with the most lines—in fact, I think that's his name in the movie).

The four are sent to prison in "The Kylin" where conflicts bring in another party to the group Drax (WWE star Dave Bautista, who's not bad, really...) a literal-minded brute ("Nothing goes over my head. My reflexes are too good") with several axes to grind with Ronan—while he was "accusing" one day, he managed to kill Drax's entire family, and Drax wants to "make his stand...though I may die" against him. The party escapes to "Knowhere" where Gamora attempts to find out the secret to the orb by contacting The Collector*** (Benicio del Toro, in a typically bizarre del Toro performance—I mean, why not, this isn't Shakespeare) who reveals that the orb is in reality...

Wait a minute. Wait. At this point, anybody who isn't in the Grootish weeds by this point must have a basement stacked with Marvel comics, all poly-bagged, in acid-free storage boxes, all neatly lined up, either by title alphabetically or by year, and has actually read them and retained all the arcana. The rest of us who don't know the difference between a Kree and a Necro-cat should probably buy a score-card or a libretto before we go in, or console ourselves with the fact that so much of this stuff has such a goofy spin, that the best thing to do is take a "just go with it" attitude and take none of it too seriously. That's easy to do, especially as the movie sails by on a series of distinctive feel-good oldies that are comically out of place in a space epic, even if they are effective in lightening the overall tone of the film.

And it's nice that the film has, as part of its structure, a desire to break the mold of Marvel movie expectations, both in tone, resolution, and in exceeding the grasp of subject matter without getting too heavy about it (as the "Thor" films perpetually do). It walks a rather ungainly tight-rope of having a good time, while raising the bar a bit to expand the playing ground of story material to include more than usual disgruntled tech-masters and villainously-empowered accident victims as antagonists for the heroes. That was wearing a bit thin, especially in the last couple years. It makes this part of the series feel less Earth-bound and thus a little lighter on its feet, paws, or roots and less bound by a force of gravitas—we're talking super-heroes, after all, no matter how dark and leathery we may dress them.

Josh Brolin voices Thanos, who might be the real "McGuffin" of the film.

* Two lines of comic dialogue always defined the rather-unspecifically cosmic Marvel Universe for me: "Look at THAT!" and "I don't know what it is but it sure is big."

** I talked to a customer in my day-job who mentioned she took her four year-old to see Guardians, and I asked "How'd she handle it?" And she laughed and said "She loved it, but all she can talk about are the raccoon and Groot." It gave me a lot of insight as to how kids might relate to the film by concentrating on the fun aspects and letting all the Marvel insidery going over their heads. "She likes to dance like Groot," she added. That scene, which is a charmer is the first of the two post-credits sequences. The other, which is a shock and a surprise, is almost not worth waiting for.

Kids love Groot.

*** The Collector was last seen in a post-credit teaser in Thor: The Dark World.

Super

A look back at director James Gunn's rather heretical view of the super-hero genre from 2010.

"The Weed of Crime Bears Bitter Fruit"
or
"Boltie!  NO!"

There will be four major super-hero movies coming out this Summer (starting with Thor next week, Green Lantern, X-Men: First Class, and Captain America: The First Avenger), plus a smattering of graphic novel adaptations and such. Next year, The Avengers, Spider-man, Batman and Superman movies will be released. Comic Books are hot in the movies because they're easily digestible, easy to adapt, and they skew young in the audience demographics.

It's just too bad that so many of them are terrible, and they've created a lazy back-lash of "Oh, I'm so sick of super-hero movies" to any blogger who can put two words together. Sure, you're sick of them. Too much of anything gets dull after awhile. 

So, stop going to them. That's not so hard. With great power comes great responsibility. Super-hero movies have a lot of power right now and you're responsible.

Meanwhile, there is an antidote to all this nefarious meta-human poisoning, a tonic to the wish-fulfillment fantasy that the genre unquestioningly presents: Super, written and directed by James Gunn, former Troma writer-director. Notice that it doesn't say "Super-hero," as that label doesn't really apply—it stops just short of the "hero" as the "vigilante" aspect of the crime-fighter takes center-stage along with its brother-in-arms, revenge.

Frank D'Arbo (Rainn Wilson) is a short-order cook/man-child and the best thing that ever happened to him was marrying Sarah Helgeland (Liv Tyler), a waitress at the diner who's just come out of re-hab and is trying to get her life back in order. Things are fine (at least from Frank's perspective) until Sarah runs off with Jacques (Kevin Bacon), a sleazy drug-dealer and then Frank melts down.  Despairing, angry and confused he's inspired by a religious station's superhero program "The Holy Avenger" (played by a smirking Nathan Fillion) and by having his brain "touched by the finger of God," to set his spinning-out-of-control life back on track by taking on a vigilante role as The Crimson Bolt—his only weapons being his innate sense of "right" (no drug-dealing, no pedophilia, no butting-in in line) and a large pipe-wrench. There are no fancy moves, no elegant acrobatic abilities pulled off with ease, just a schlumpfy guy in a leotard blundering into situations and clocking people with a big spanner. Realistic, right down to the cranium-cracking that such action produces. It's funny, but also slightly cringe-inducing as you see the damage that such blunt trauma can produce. At that point, the "heroism" aspect becomes secondary to the thuggish behavior such actions create—the line between "do-gooder" and freakish assault becomes blurred and squishy.

Squishy being the operative word here. Gunn is from Troma, the cheerily exploitative grind-house that's created such films as The Toxic Avenger, so no holds are barred in the presentation of violence with its resulting blood-splatter and meat-manufacturing. When "The Bolt" increases his armory with guns, pipe-bombs and accelerant, things turn explosively ugly. And that's where Super has it all over such juvenile exercises in juvie crime-fighting glorification as Kick-Ass.  However much that film tried do disguise its brutishness with smooth moves and well-choreographed stunt-work, it played fast-and-loose with the consequences of such actions, making it all 'look cool" and distracting from the carnage. There's nothing smooth about this film; it's down and dirty and doesn't even look heroic so much as desperate and geekish, the results of adrenaline mixed with no skill whatsoever. There's more danger in Super than anything simulated in Kick-Ass.

Things get complicated. "The Bolt" starts to attract attention from the press and the local police, particularly one detective (Gregg Henry) who puts one and one together and connects the addled D'Arbo with the increased attacks around town.  Then, "The Bolt" gains a side-kick, the cute chick Libby (Ellen Page) at the comics store where he does his research. A comics junkie, she also has a hyper-intense fantasy jones that makes her latch onto D'Arbo's crusade with an unhealthy zeal, becoming his junior partner, Boltie. It's an unhealthy relationship, as Frank tries to mentor Libby ("That's inappropriate, Boltie!") in her adrenal-rush to take things too far. And they go too far, to the point where Super jumps the genre line to become more like Taxi Driver than a super-hero film.

Super is not rated, simply because it wants to skirt the issue of taming the gore and present its message uninhibited by catering to the unfathomable whims of the MPAA. So, the violence is squishy and upsetting, the language is pervasive ("Oh, maaan! The Bolt-mobile is kinda fucked up!") and the places it goes only occurring to those who are seriously aware of the psychological twistedness of the genre (like Alan Moore). It may look funny and goofy, but caution is advised if you're easily traumatized, or holding out for a hero. Super isn't playing games or taking hostages.

"This is how you fight crime...sit here and wait for it to happen?  It's so BORING!!"

Tomorrow: a look at Gunn's latest.

The Loudest Silence is When the Laughter...Stops

I hate...hate with a great PASSION...writing obituaries. It's tempting sometimes. It's especially tempting when an actor or director who's given you great joy dies. 
I wept when John Wayne died—so much so I had to pull over my car as I was driving when the announcement came over the news. 
When Stanley Kubrick died, I thought "He can't die! That's impossible! He's Stanley Kubrick!"

But they all die and the works they've left behind live on, the best and most descriptive of tombstones, letting us know that they lived...and should be noticed.

Now, Robin Williams committed suicide.  There will be the inevitable voices saying that it was the coward's way out.  They will judge and they will condemn.  That usually pisses me off when somebody says that.  But, not with Williams.  If I got pissed off, I'd miss the laughter.  And one should always embrace the joy, no matter the circumstances.

And that's how you beat depression.

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VIDEO ESSAY: Robin Williams 1951 - 2014 from Nelson Carvajal on Vimeo.