"I'm not like anyone else. I'm me."

By now you've read the obituaries, scoured the career appraisals, maybe you've put in a DVD, donated to her charity in lieu of flowers, wiped away a tear, or done something silly to commemorate Elizabeth Taylor. Maybe you've just marvelled at how difficult it is to wrap one's head around the loss of a true Giant, capital and italics intended, and not just because that's one of the only titles in her filmography that doubles as an apt descriptor of its star. 

A friend of mine told me last month when she was dramatically hospitalized on Oscar weekend, that he'd been commissioned to write an obit (just in case). I actually felt bad for him. "You'll never be paid," I said...

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* This is my last piece on Liz for awhile. Between this and Tennessee Williams week (which ends tomorrow) we've become lost in time. Must jump back to 2011 pronto. Or at least by April 1st, when The Film Experience traditionally admits that the new film year has in fact begun. Here we go again...

Tennessee 100: Night of the Iguana

JA from MNPP here, continuing Tennessee Williams Centennial Week with a look at John Huston's 1963 film The Night of the Iguana. I chose Iguana because it's one of the few adaptations of Williams' work that I hadn't seen already, and because IMDb's summary made it sound torrid in the best Williams way. Defrocked priests and wanton teen girls and sapphic spinsters all flitting about a Mexican beach cut off from civilization? Yes please.

But truth be told, I found the film a little wanting, not wanton. Richard Burton's in full bluster, screaming and sloshing about as the drunken ex-man-of-the-cloth Shannon, Deborah Kerr barely registers as the sexless traveling painter he's too big a mess to end up with, and not a whole lot seems to gel.

 

I was fond of Grayson Hall as the lesbian intent upon Shannon's destruction (she was nominated for an Oscar, but lost to Lila Kedrova in Zorba the Greek), and kind of loved Ava Gardner as Maxine, the owner of the motel where they all end up marooned who keeps a couple of cabana boys for herself...

... but then, she was speaking my language. Bette Davis played the role of Maxine in the original staging of the play for four months before, according to her, her co-stars undercut her and she left the production and was replaced by Shelley Winters. I can picture both of them doing exquisite work in the role, but I really did like Ava Gardner here. (And scanning through Gardner's filmography I realize this is the first time I've ever seen her in anything!)

Iguana was shot in the Fall of 1962, right at epicenter of the tabloid insanity over the affair between Burton and Elizabeth Taylor - they'd just worked (among other things) together on Cleopatra - and Taylor actually accompanied Burton on the shoot in Puerto Vallarta, which led to all kinds of scrutiny upon the set. From Wikipedia comes this fun fact:

"By March 1964, months before the film's release, gossip about the film's production became the subject of a public parody when Huston received an Writers' Guild of America award for advancing "the literature of the motion picture through the years"; at a dinner where the award was presented, Allan Sherman performed a song, to the tune of "Streets of Laredo", with lyrics that included "They were down there to film The Night of the Iguana / With a star-studded cast and a technical crew. / They did things at night midst the flora and fauna / That no self-respecting iguana would do."

As you can tell, the stories surrounding the production are more interesting to me than the movie itself now. Perhaps the mega-quake that was Burton-Taylor was too strong a distraction to gel together an entirely satisfying, coherent film. Still there's some gorgeous black-and-white photography to be had...

And it did walk away with an Oscar for Best Costume Design (B&W), beating Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte and Edith Head for A House is Not a Home, so in summation let's take a look at a couple of those. It's refreshing to see an example of a non-period film winning a prize for its costumes, isn't it?

 

79 Ways To Celebrate The Life of Elizabeth Taylor

In lieu of a traditional obituary, and because I'm still working on two other Taylor posts that were started before this sad news, I thought a major revision of a two year-old birthday post was in order. If you're in need of comfort today, wrap yourself up in this legend's grandiosity on this disheartening day. Take Taylor's life as inspiration. Survive Everything... but for death, of course, which will come for us all. But leave a legacy behind you and you've got that beat, too.

79 Ways to Celebrate Liz Taylor's Legacy in 2011
How many can you do this year?

1. Be great.
2. Be beautiful.
3. Be ambitious. Quoth Liz "It's not the having, it's the getting."
4. Be a legend in your own mind, and in others.
5. Get married. Or divorced. Or remarried. Or all three. Or several times.
6. Let your passions rule you.
7. Act like a diva. (But back it up with substance... nobody likes a vacuous primadonna.)
8. Wear something spectacularly sexy, preferrably white.
9. Make people want more.
10. Forge unbreakable friendships.
11. Stick with those people through tragedies, scandals, and anything else that besets them.
12. Watch Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?.
    
    
    
13. Invite people over for copious drinking party.
14. Play "get the guests" or "hump the hostess", your choice.
15. (If you don't have a child, invent one.)
16. Watch National Velvet. 
17. Go horseback riding.
18. Watch A Place in the Sun.
19. "Tell mama everything"
20. Fall in love with Montgomery Clift in glorious black and white (any of his movies will do).
    
    
21. Ask your best friend to refer to you as "Bessie Mae" for the rest of the year.
22. Demand a Taylor retrospective at your local arthouse cinema. Suggest that they donate a portion of the proceeds to Liz's charity.
23. Be highly quotable.
24. Flaunt every piece of jewelry you own. (Maybe wear them all at once?)
25. Donate to an AIDS charity. Per Liz's request in lieu of flowers.
26. Nurse a sick friend or loved one.
27. Enjoy your own wicked sense of humor. Laugh loudly at good jokes.
28. Scream "I was the slut of all time!" with style and at the top of your lungs. Shamelessness suits you.
29. Watch Butterfield 8.
30. Fight for that performance's reputation (It's better than Oscar mythology claims. But more on that in April for the 50th anniversary of her win.)
31. Write something pity or bitchy on a mirror in lipstick. "NO SALE"
32. Survive the loss of someone you loved no matter how hard that is to do. If you're still grieving find a way to make that sadness productive.
33. Pretend you've won an Oscar.
    
    
    
    
34. And another. (Or work at actually deserving one if you're in showbiz). Better yet...
35. ...deserve the Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award.
36. Drink people under the table.
37. Polish La Liz's star at 6336 Hollywood Blvd.
38. Watch Cleopatra...(okay, half of it. It's so long!).
39. Make memorable entrances (if you're rolled in a carpet, have a safe word handy.)
40. Read "Elizabeth".
41. Watch the original Father of the Bride.
42. Buy a pair of violet contact lenses or just play up your natural eye color's beauty.
43. Paint a beauty mark on your right upper jaw.
44. Don't take yourself too seriously.
45. Role play "Liz and Dickie" with your boyfriend / girlfriend. H-O-T.
46. Name perfumes after your favorite things.
47. Monetize your favorite things.
48. Love dogs (and other animals).
    
    
49. Be a "Functioning Voluptuary"... enjoy the finer things in life.
50. Gain lots of weight or lose some -- it doesn't matter; you're still fabulous.
51. Stop worrying about getting older (Liz didn't); you're still fabulous.
52. Watch Giant.
53. Watch Suddenly Last Summer.
54. Speak the truth with a ferocity of spirit. Even if it makes uptight people want to cut your brain up to stop your "hatchet tongue"
55. Get familiar with the entire Tennesse Williams oeuvre. It suits the remarkable dramatic women (and sure suited La Liz who went there four times).
56. Watch Boom.
57. Watch Reflections in a Golden Eye.
58. Steal something from someone who reminds you of Debbie Reynolds.
    
    
    
    
59. But bury the hatchet with your enemies.
60. Give them something to talk about when you leave the room.
61. Photoshop yourself onto the cover of 14 People magazines.
62. Watch The Flintstones.
63. Watch Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.
64. Make sure you're enticing in your underwear.
65. Descend into "erotic vagrancy"!
    
    
    
66. Watch The Taming of the Shrew.
67. Imagine how Sherilyn Fenn might play you in a TV movie.
68. Study Kabbalah.
69. Excite the tabloids.
70. Inspire other artists.
    
    
    
    
71. Add a "Dame" before your name on Facebook.
72. Make your speaking voice so memorable that The Simpsons want you.
73. Work towards making lots of "all time greatest" lists in whatever it is that you do and actually deserve the honor.
74. Make the world a better place.
75. Survive whatever illnesses beset you (tracheotomy, pneumonia, cancer, hip replacements, you name it.)
76. Next time you throw your back out, spend that time catching up on old movie classics.
77. Call yourself "Mother Courage" and mean it.
78. Survive everything...
79. Even death; leave great work behind you and live on.

50½ Thoughts on 101 Dalmatians

Woof! Guess which Disney classic is celebrating its 50th anniversary this year?

Yep, that's One Hundred and One Dalmatians which debuted fifty years back, January 25th of 1961 to be exact. Let's discuss with 50½ quick thoughts as 101 would send most of you clicking immediately away. The Film Experience shan't ask that much of your patience though perhaps you could share the article with 3½ friends if you enjoy it, or leave 1½ comments behind before you go. The more the merrier, you know? And doesn't the movie wag its plentiful tail at that very motto?!

01 The first charming thing is its sketchy, spotty, doggy opening credit sequence. It's a prime candidate for "Art of the Title Sequence" if only they'd do more classics.

02 The movie was released in the early 60s and takes place in London. I can't think of another animated Disney feature off the top of my head that's this British but then,  "The British Invasion" was just around the corner so maybe America's Anglophilimaniac phase was already in the air in the late 50s when Disney started storyboarding this feature?

03 One can't help but notice the immediate resemblance to the palette and cityscapes for Sylvain Chomet's The Illusionist.

04 Pongo, the first (of many) dalmatian narrates and refers to Roger as "my pet". Animated movies have anthropomorphized animals since the creation of the form but one wonders when people started joking about the inner lives of animals? Maybe Adam & Eve even chuckled about how bossy the garden creatures were?

05 Though the movie feels more leisurely than today's animated features, from its opening frame, it's giving you the narrative and characterizations pretty quickly.

06 Pongo wants Roger to settle down. The scene where he's judging human/dog pairs from the window is like one of those now cliché comic audition scenes where you see a few obviously unsuitable candidates before you get to the real goods, the final auditioner, the one you're supposed to root for.

07 Poll Time.

poll by twiigs.com

08 If you give it more than a second's thought you realize it's an odd cliché since it doesn't really occur in real life. You can take it from someone who used to do corporate recruiting. You can't really stop the auditions as soon as you love someone. There are these pesky things called politeness, appointments, and bosses who'd like a few options later on. Sometimes you end with a real dud, not the superstar! And it's not true of dating either. Most people don't settle down with the first person that isn't totally unsuitable ;)

09 Although maybe it's truthy for cutthroat Hollywood? Perhaps casting directors boot out every starving actor in the hallway as soon as they get their first wow?

10 This post: Too fancy? Much too fancy?

11 The pan around Roger's apartment is so evocative, funny, super detailed and gorgeous. It's busy and messy and bachelor chaos without being overbearing. Those background painters really outdid themselves back in the day.

12 This post is set to publish at 5:14 by Pongo's request.

13 If you haven't left work yet maybe you should right now? The weekend is upon you. Take your furry friend for a long walk in the park.

14 Wait, do you even have a dog?

15 Poll time.

poll by twiigs.com

16 How adorable is it that Pongo talks like a dog when he's with humans and we only get the translation with the animal-only scenes. The sound work is pretty strong. You can actually distinguish between the "voices". The movie is full of strong line bark deliveries.

17 The heavy ink lines around the characters are a thing of the past. When I was a little kid I bought "how to animation" books and I remember that the ink lines had something to do with the outlines for cel animation being one job and the painting of color being another entirely. Different people did different jobs though I don't remember what the various positions were actually called although one was named "inbetweeners" I think, which is such a great job title. In some scenes the heavy ink lines are much more prominent than others which I can't quite figure. Was it a quickie production? Did it change hands? Were there different teams for the different "chapters" of the movie? Any Disney historians reading?

18 Is this one of the best "meet cutes" in film history? Pongo wraps the leash around the humans and sends them tumbling into the pond. Pongo thinks it is. He's very proud. It's a sly move and he gets his own wife (Perdita) in the bargain. There's a double wedding... and soon Perdita has 15 buns in her oven.

19 Speaking of ovens... "Nanny" is the stock plump "help" Disney character -- it's like they don't even redesign them at all between movies but for their clothes -- but she's adorable.

Read the full post. THAT DEVIL WOMAN is coming right up.

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Deborah Kerr and a Kangaroo

This randomness is brought to you by a screening of The Sundowners (1960) last night. This footage is not from the movie but the "on location" footage. Ish't it hilarious (and totally creepy?) that the monster tries to use Kerr's jacket as a pouch?

I'm trying to combat my fear of kangaroos in the hopes that one day someone will buy me an all expenses vacation to Australia. In the movie the evil-propelled marsupials with the tyranossaurus-rex arms just hop through the scene on occassion FOR NO REASON WHATSOEVER and the actors don't even flinch! For that alone you'd think they would have finally given Kerr the gold? (The Sundowners was her last of six Oscar nominations -- see previous post). I would have ruined every take by shrieking.