FOND OF FONDA: A MOVIE MATINEE LECTURE SERIES
Wednesdays at 2:00 PM
March 6, 13, 20, 27, and April 3, 2013
Hello Again-
It seems like forever since I've hosted a film lecture series at the Library. This time out, I thought that I'd salute one of our most revered actors from the cinema of yesteryear with a Henry Fonda series.
Fonda, with his tall, thin frame and reedy, midwestern-tinged voice, epitomized a kind of grace and quiet intelligence. Conscientious. Morally upstanding. Given to deliberation before offering his thoughts on an issue (and then speaking with that distinctively sloooow pace). A winning personifcation of the common man.
And yet there always seemed to be something else that percolated beneath the surface--a darker, deeper side that was not wholly scrutable. If Henry Fonda faced demons, he faced them alone. For a man who chose a profession in which communication is vital, Fonda was emotionally buttoned down in his private life. He was married five times; his children Peter and Jane found him remote. To him, life was about moving beyond your failures and disappointments, perhaps about rising above them.
But what Fonda couldn't express privately, he used in his art. Sometimes his characters were plain spoken; at other times, what was hidden behind that look in his eyes added complexity and nuance to his performances.
The films of Fonda's that I plan on showing include his career-defining role as Tom Joad in The Grapes of Wrath, in which he evinced a kind of resilience in the face of personal misfortune. Then there's young Henry as the naive, much put-upon heir to a brewery fortune who falls prey to Barbara Stanwyck in director Preston Sturges' screwball comedy The Lady Eve. Fonda reunited with his Grapes of Wrath director, John Ford, to portray Wyatt Earp in all of his principled glory in My Darling Clementine. The actor that we've come to equate with the voice of reason tries to face down dissenting jurors in 12 Angry Men. Finally, the series wraps up not with a theatrically-released motion picture, but with a videotaped performance for television of Fonda in his one-man, tour de force portrayal of famed lawyer Clarence Darrow.
I look forward to seeing you all at the beginning of March.
Doug Swiszcz
************************************************************
Here's the rundown (all are Wednesday showings that begin at 2:00 PM):
March 6th: The Grapes of Wrath - 1940, black & white, 129 minutes, unrated.
March 13th: The Lady Eve - 1941, black & white, 94 minutes, unrated.
March 20th: My Darling Clementine - 1946, black & white, 97 minutes, unrated.
March 27th: 12 Angry Men - 1957, black & white, 96 minutes, unrated.
April 3rd: Clarence Darrow - 1974, color, 81 minutes, unrated.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Gotta Sing! Gotta Dance! The Evolution of the Movie Musical
We're all familiar with the image: a euphoric Gene Kelly, so happy that he is in love that--inclement weather be dashed--he just has to sing and dance in the street. Pouring rain can't dampen his spirits; that's how effusive his feelings are.
On the stage, song and dance are an accepted means of expression. What about song and dance in the movies? Film is a more natural, realistic medium--worlds removed from the artifice and high degree of stylization that we think nothing of when we experience live performance.
But once the technology of talking pictures came about, movie makers attempted to wed the artifice of the one medium with the naturalism of the other. It was definitely a growth process. Early movie musicals were often revue-style productions that featured singers and dancers performing "face out," as if they were on a proscenium stage, in a Broadway theater. Many early movie musicals, in fact, revolved around a "let's put on a show" story, as if the only way that filmgoers would readily accept the idea of people breaking into song and dance was if these "numbers" took place on stage within the movie.
Movie musicals really started coming into their own when song and dance were used in a cinematic way, with a camera that incorporated their rhythm and movement to advance the story, or to reveal characters' feelings. In the film that opens my series, Love Me Tonight (1932), the Rodgers and Hart song "Isn't It Romantic" is introduced by a tailor (Maurice Chevalier) in the city of Paris, and is then taken up by other characters, through various means of transportation, to the countryside, where we find it being sung by a lovely princess (Jeanette MacDonald). Here, we see music used as a means of linking two disparate characters--the lowly city tailor and the high-born princess in her country chateau.
Of course, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers used song and dance as a kind of "courtship ritual" in the many movies that they made together--he wooed, she initially demurred, but in the end they ended up in each others' arms.We'll see such a love story told through dance to a tuneful Irving Berlin score in Top Hat (1935).
Musicals written specifically for the screen were quite common in the hey day of movie musicals--and no studio excelled at this form better than MGM, thanks to a creative and technical team headed up by producer Arthur Freed. And with talents like Judy Garland and Gene Kelly--whose films Meet Me in St. Louis (1944) and Singin' in the Rain (1952), respectively, will be shown as part of this series--how could they go wrong?
As the golden age of the Hollywood musical started to decline in the late fifties and early sixties, we saw movie studios increasingly turning to Broadway properties to transfer to the screen (for fear that audiences would not come to a movie musical unless the show already have a proven track record on stage). Some of these adaptations were quite successful, but many of them were unimaginative transcriptions of their stage version. Like the early movie musicals, these movies were staged and filmed in such a way that the casts might as well have been up on a proscenium stage. Where was the cinematic expression that could enliven these properties? Of course, not all such adaptations were so static and "stagey." The film version of Fiddler on the Roof (1971) presented a robust adaptation of a smash Broadway musical.
As tastes in popular music changed, Hollywood musicals all but died out. Younger film audiences, raised on rock music, were less likely to be captivated by characters bursting into song up on the screen. But director Rob Marshall found a way to adapt the Broadway musical Chicago (2002) into a film so that it appealed to these younger moviegoers. The snappy, savvy movie went on to win the Academy Award for Best Picture in the year of its release--the first film musical to earn that accolade in over 30 years.
I hope that you will join me for this look at the evolution of the movie musical.
I look forward to seeing you there.
Doug Swiszcz
A Film Lecture Series Presented by Librarian Doug Swiszcz
Wednesdays, September 26-October 31, 2012 at 1:00 PM
Barrington Public Library
We're all familiar with the image: a euphoric Gene Kelly, so happy that he is in love that--inclement weather be dashed--he just has to sing and dance in the street. Pouring rain can't dampen his spirits; that's how effusive his feelings are.
On the stage, song and dance are an accepted means of expression. What about song and dance in the movies? Film is a more natural, realistic medium--worlds removed from the artifice and high degree of stylization that we think nothing of when we experience live performance.
But once the technology of talking pictures came about, movie makers attempted to wed the artifice of the one medium with the naturalism of the other. It was definitely a growth process. Early movie musicals were often revue-style productions that featured singers and dancers performing "face out," as if they were on a proscenium stage, in a Broadway theater. Many early movie musicals, in fact, revolved around a "let's put on a show" story, as if the only way that filmgoers would readily accept the idea of people breaking into song and dance was if these "numbers" took place on stage within the movie.
Movie musicals really started coming into their own when song and dance were used in a cinematic way, with a camera that incorporated their rhythm and movement to advance the story, or to reveal characters' feelings. In the film that opens my series, Love Me Tonight (1932), the Rodgers and Hart song "Isn't It Romantic" is introduced by a tailor (Maurice Chevalier) in the city of Paris, and is then taken up by other characters, through various means of transportation, to the countryside, where we find it being sung by a lovely princess (Jeanette MacDonald). Here, we see music used as a means of linking two disparate characters--the lowly city tailor and the high-born princess in her country chateau.
Of course, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers used song and dance as a kind of "courtship ritual" in the many movies that they made together--he wooed, she initially demurred, but in the end they ended up in each others' arms.We'll see such a love story told through dance to a tuneful Irving Berlin score in Top Hat (1935).
Musicals written specifically for the screen were quite common in the hey day of movie musicals--and no studio excelled at this form better than MGM, thanks to a creative and technical team headed up by producer Arthur Freed. And with talents like Judy Garland and Gene Kelly--whose films Meet Me in St. Louis (1944) and Singin' in the Rain (1952), respectively, will be shown as part of this series--how could they go wrong?
As the golden age of the Hollywood musical started to decline in the late fifties and early sixties, we saw movie studios increasingly turning to Broadway properties to transfer to the screen (for fear that audiences would not come to a movie musical unless the show already have a proven track record on stage). Some of these adaptations were quite successful, but many of them were unimaginative transcriptions of their stage version. Like the early movie musicals, these movies were staged and filmed in such a way that the casts might as well have been up on a proscenium stage. Where was the cinematic expression that could enliven these properties? Of course, not all such adaptations were so static and "stagey." The film version of Fiddler on the Roof (1971) presented a robust adaptation of a smash Broadway musical.
As tastes in popular music changed, Hollywood musicals all but died out. Younger film audiences, raised on rock music, were less likely to be captivated by characters bursting into song up on the screen. But director Rob Marshall found a way to adapt the Broadway musical Chicago (2002) into a film so that it appealed to these younger moviegoers. The snappy, savvy movie went on to win the Academy Award for Best Picture in the year of its release--the first film musical to earn that accolade in over 30 years.
I hope that you will join me for this look at the evolution of the movie musical.
I look forward to seeing you there.
Doug Swiszcz
The line-up:
Sept 26th Love Me Tonight (1932) -- Black & white -- 89 minutes -- Unrated.
Oct 3rd Top Hat (1935) --
Black
& white -- 101 minutes -- Unrated.
Oct 10th Meet Me in St. Louis (1944) -- Color -- 113 minutes -- Unrated.
Oct. 17th Singin’ in the Rain (1952) -- Color -- 103 minutes -- Unrated.
Oct. 24th Fiddler on the Roof (1971) -- Color -- 181 minutes -- Rated G.
Oct 31st Chicago (2002) -- Color -- 113 minutes -- Rated PG-13.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
JAMES STEWART ON THE BIG SCREEN: A FILM LECTURE SERIES
Hello Friends:
Why not escape from the summer heat to enjoy five movies starring one of filmdom's most beloved movie stars, Jimmy Stewart--or James Stewart, as he was always officially billed.
Stewart. It almost makes one think of the word STALWART. The website yourdictionary.com defines this word as follows: "A description for someone who is loyal and strong or for something that is reliable and sturdy." Perhaps the website should feature a photo of James Stewart next to its definition. Few other actors conjure so vividly an image of reliability, strength, and loyalty--traits that spring to mind when we use the term "All American."
Certainly these traits, when coupled with honesty, idealism, and integrity, are on exhibit in Stewart's portrayal of Jefferson Smith in the film that opens the series, director Frank Capra's Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. But while Smith was a career-defining role for Stewart, there was a tendency, perhaps, to assume that, because the actor played characters who possessed these traits, they were uncomplicated and one-dimensional.
Following Stewart's stint of duty as a bomber pilot during World War II, he returned to acting a changed man. The war had aged him, and he brought a less light, more complex sensibility to most of his screen portrayals from that point on.
For example, the five westerns that Stewart made with director Anthony Mann brought a darker, psychological dimension to the genre. Winchester '73 is one such film that will be featured in this series.
He also appeared in four films for director Alfred Hitchcock, including Vertigo, in which he plays a man who becomes obsessed with a woman to the point that he wants her look-alike to be in his thrall. In Rear Window, which will be shown during this series, Stewart plays another obsessed character, this time a convalescing photographer who takes to watching his neighbors. Is it possible that he is projecting many of his unresolved feelings about interpersonal relations onto the lives of the people in whose windows he is peering?
The series is rounded out by two romantic comedies: The Shop Around the Corner, an Ernst Lubitsch-directed confection that derives its sweetness from its Old World setting and characters; and Bell, Book & Candle, a late fifties piece of whimsy with Stewart's book publisher falling under the spell of beautiful witch Kim Novak.
Here's the series schedule -- all films are on Mondays at 1:00 P.M.
July 9th -- Mr. Smith Goes To Washington - Idealistic scout master Jefferson Smith is appointed to the senate and tries to fight corruption. With Jean Arthur, Claude Rains. 1939 -- Black & white -- 129 minutes.
July 16th -- The Shop Around the Corner - Two employees in a Budapest shop clash, but are unaware that they are sending anonymous love letters to one another. With Margaret Sullavan. 1940 -- Black & white -- 99 minutes.
July 23rd -- Winchester '73 - A man tries to find his father's murderer and the one-of-a-kind rifle that was stolen from him. With Shelley Winters, Dan Duryea. 1950 -- Black & white -- 92 minutes.
July 30th -- Rear Window - A photographer with a broken leg fears that a neighbor was murdered. Co-starring Grace Kelly and Thelma Ritter. 1954 -- Color -- 112 minutes.
Aug. 6th -- Bell, Book & Candle - A beautiful witch (Kim Novak) casts a spell to make a man fall in love with her. With Elsa Lanchester, Jack Lemmon, Ernie Kovacs. 1958 -- Color -- 106 minutes.
I look forward to seeing you all in our air-conditioned movie theater here at the Barrington Library.
Doug Swiszcz
Librarian and Film Enthusiast
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