Human?

From a robo-call voice mail: “Sorry, you did not reveal yourself to be human. Goodbye.”

In Indiana

“When you need wigs and novelties, and you’re in Indiana, you can hang it up, buddy!” Tom Waits on stage, in Big Time (dir. Chris Blum, 1988).

“The scale of betrayal”

"The scale of betrayal is almost beyond political analysis": Mara Gay of The New York Times, just now on MSNBC’s The 11th Hour. Gay is still recovering from the effects of COVID-19.

#TrumpKnew

#TrumpKnew pic.twitter.com/rWKzj5Ti1i

— The Lincoln Project (@ProjectLincoln) September 9, 2020

A reminder

I was out doing errands this morning. I came home to the news. The news. The news. And now I want to repost this image, which I first posted on May 15:



And to preserve the asterisk, which signifies impeached and carries a bonus Kurt Vonnegut overtone:


[Click either image for a larger view.]

Donald Trump*’s revelations to Bob Woodward are further evidence of the Dunning-Kruger effect at work, made worse by dementia. What did Trump* think Woodward was going to make of these revelations? And how did Trump* think people would respond?

Richard Nixon at least had cunning enough to keep his tapes under wraps, at least until he couldn’t.

*

Yep, Dunning-Kruger. From Kaitlin Collins (CNN):

One reason Trump was so irritated aides didn't tell him about Woodward’s attempts to interview him for his last book [Fear ] was because he thought he could have made himself look better in it.

And from Maggie Haberman (The New York Times):

Mr. Trump gave Mr. Woodward extensive access to his White House and to top officials in the hopes the eventual book would be “positive,” in his eyes. Mr. Trump did not speak to Mr. Woodward for his first book on the Trump presidency, Fear, and the president has maintained publicly and to advisers that it would have turned out better had he personally participated.

An essay topic

If I were teaching a writing course, any level, I’d ask my students to write this essay:

What blame should be assigned to administrators and students for the rising number of COVID-19 cases on campus, and why? Do administrators and students share equally in the blame? Or does one group deserve a greater share?

This essay is meant as an exercise in moral reasoning, not legal judgment. These questions ask you to consider broad questions of responsibility, not particular cases. You may present and explain your reasoning by comparing the situation at hand with hypothetical situations, by making distinctions between different kinds of error or wrongdoing, by considering implications (if . . . , then . . .), by developing a relevant analogy — whatever seems appropriate. You should consider objections to your argument too. Think of yourself as writing an essay that explains your reasoning.

[Today’s Trump* news makes this essay feel a bit pointless. Things happen.]

Zweig’s world

“A friend of mine opened her closet the other day and felt she was gazing at the clothes of a dead person. They belonged to the world of yesterday”: in the age of the coronavirus, the title of Stefan Zweig’s memoir acquires new significance.

See also Anna Seghers’s “Earlier Time.”

Related reading
All OCA Stefan Zweig posts (Pinboard)

Images in the new Blogger

[Notes to self and any fellow Blogger users.]

To remove the extra space that Blogger now adds below a centered image, switch from Compose to HTML and change padding: 1em 0px; to padding: 0em 0px.

To remove the extra space that Blogger now adds below a left- or right-justified image, switch from Compose to HTML and change margin-bottom: 1em; to margin-bottom: 0em;.

To resize an image, click on it in Compose and choose an image size by selecting the dotted-window icon or gear icon. To make further changes, switch to HTML and enter new values for height and width. Original height and width should stay the same. Changing the display values by hand is how I get 800-pixel-wide screenshots to display at 400 pixels. I figure out the values I need for a given image with the Mac Preview app.

I remove all the <div></div> stuff that now begins and ends the HTML for an image. If any problems result from doing so, I trust I’ll begin to notice them.

Biddle = Weegee

[Reporter Steve McCleary (John Derek), photographer Biddle (Harry Morgan), and “Terrified Neighbor at Murder Scene” (Helen Brown). Scandal Sheet (dir. Phil Karlson, 1952). Click either image for a larger view.]

Harry Morgan’s Biddle is no doubt meant to suggest the famous Weegee, photographer of all manner of urban nightmare. The Bowery denizens we see later in this movie seem to have stepped straight out of, or into, a Weegee photograph.

Twelve movies

[One to four stars. Four sentences each. No spoilers.]

Scandal Sheet (dir. Phil Karlson, 1952). I’m always thankful to film fans who upload movies (no doubt only those in the public domain) to YouTube. Here’s an example: a not especially celebrated story of tabloid journalism and murder, with Broderick Crawford as the ethically challenged editor of the lurid New York Express, John Derek as an ethically challenged reporter, and Donna Reed as a plucky sidekick. It’s something of a cross between Double Indemnity and The Big Clock. Watch for Harry Morgan as an unmistakably Weegee-like photographer. ★★★★

*

The Case Against Brooklyn (dir. Paul Wendkos, 1958). Another YouTube find: a police procedural that follows an undercover investigation of Brooklyn “horse rooms.” Darren McGavin is the Glenn Ford-like rookie cop who risks everything to bring down the syndicate. Maggie Hayes (the lonely teacher in The Blackboard Jungle) complicates his investigation, with unforeseen consequences. With noir-like cinematography by Fred Jackman Jr. and a great final sequence in an industrial laundry. ★★★★

*

Mysterious Intruder (dir. William Castle, 1946). And here the streak ended, with something from a movie series inspired by the radio serial The Whistler. Things start out well, with a courtly old-world music-store owner hiring a sketchy private detective to find a young woman who disappeared from the neighborhood seven years earlier. And then fiendish Mike Mazurki shows up in the music store, a low-budget affair made from a few guitars, some sheet music, and brilliant composition and lighting. But when the interesting characters are killed and the plot abandons plausibility, this movie turns into a dud. ★★

*

Violent Saturday (dir. Richard Fleischer, 1955). Many stories: that of a trio of bank robbers, and those of the disparate residents of a mining town and its environs whose lives are changed one Saturday morning. The movie takes a long time to get going, but the wait is worth it. Standouts: Margaret (Maggie) Hayes as a wife and self-styled “tramp,” Virginia Leith as an object of the male gaze, Lee Marvin as a feral criminal, J. Carrol Naish as a bespectacled criminal (reminiscent of Sam Jaffe in The Asphalt Jungle), Tommy Noonan as a Prufrockian bank manager, and Sylvia Sidney as a librarian in money trouble. Watch also for Ernest Borgnine as an Amish farmer. ★★★★

*

Little Fugitive (dir. Ray Ashley, Morris Engel, Ruth Orkin, 1953). I didn’t think when we watched this movie three months ago that we’d be we watching it again with my mom, who saw it back in 1953 and remembered it as both happy and sad. Says my mom, “Nothing bad happened to the boy, and he ended up back with his family, so that was good. But to me it was very sad.” Thank you, Criterion Channel, for making it possible to discover or rediscover this film. ★★★★

*

The Fallen Sparrow (dir. Richard Wallace, 1943). My dad used to amuse us by dragging his foot around like a character in this movie, so I thought I should finally watch and find out what it’s all about. It’s about Kit McKittrick (John Garfield), a Spanish Civil War vet whose investigation of the death of a friend brings him into contact with society swells and eminent refugees, some of whom might spell trouble. Garfield is excellent in scenes in which he describes and relives his experiences being tortured. But it’s never clear just who McKittrick is (a swell himself? someone who just happens to own evening clothes?), and the plot is wildly improbable. ★★

*

It Happened One Night (dir. Frank Capra, 1934). It has to be my favorite Capra film, cutting the Americana with plenty of eros, courtesy of Claudette Colbert and Clark Gable. It didn’t occur to me until this viewing that it’s really two movies: one of daylight scenes on roads and in offices, and one of nights on snug buses, in cozy cabins, or outside in luminous, misty darkness. Oh, to eat a hamburger and ride the night bus to New York, even without Colbert and Gable aboard. My favorite moments: hitchhiking, “The Man on the Flying Trapeze.” ★★★★

*

Now, Voyager (dir. Irving Rapper, 1942). How could I have missed this film? Well, as I used to tell my students, we come to things when we come to them. Better late than never — no shame. Bette Davis, Paul Henreid, Claude Rains, many cigarettes, and an ending that suggests an imperfect happiness as enough happiness. ★★★★

*

Only Angels Have Wings (dir. Howard Hawks, 1939). Cary Grant is Geoff Carter, aka Papa or Pop, manager of an air freight company flying mail through the dangerous Andes. The outside air is thick with fog; the air inside the hotel/bar/restaurant where most of the movie takes place is thick with bromance, particularly between Papa and the Kid (Thomas Mitchell, born twelve years earlier than Grant). Enter singer Bonnie Lee (Jean Arthur), pilot Bat McPherson (Richard Barthlemess), and McPherson’s wife Judy (Rita Hayworth), each of whom complicates the bromance. Spectacular flying scenes, and a farewell scene with Papa and the Kid that recalls William Wellman’s Wings. ★★★★

*

Phantom Lady (dir. Robert Siodmak, 1944). From a novel by Cornell Woolrich. Ella Raines is a loyal secretary trying to clear her boss of a murder charge by tracking down a mysterious woman in a strange hat. Elisha Cook Jr. steals a scene as a manic drummer. Franchot Tone steals the movie as a twitchy killer. ★★★

*

Garlic Is As Good As Ten Mothers (dir. Les Blank, 1980). Do you remember the cookbooks of times past that suggested rubbing a clove of garlic around a wooden salad bowl, presumably because no one would want any more garlic flavor than that? Hahahahaha, and sheesh. I love garlic. This documentary has lots of garlic, lots of cooking and eating, lots of music — in other words, lots of life. ★★★★

*

The Lonedale Operator (dir. Michael Almereyda, 2018). John Ashbery, three-and-a-half months before his death, talking about his childhood, his love of movies, and his poetry. In an interview for the Criterion Collection, Almereyda (the director of the great, strange 2000 film adaptation of Hamlet ) explains how he came to make this short film. You can read Ashbery’s poem “The Lonedale Operator” here. Thank you, Criterion Channel. ★★★★

Related reading
All OCA film posts (Pinboard)