From Some Came Running (dir. Vincente Minnelli, 1958). Accomplished gambler Bama Dillert (Dean Martin) proposes a road trip:
“You know, the boys in Terre Haute, they don't set no limit. We could do ourselves a little good.”Terre Haute, the Queen City of the Wabash, was long known as a heartland center of vice. Life (September 1, 1958) ran a feature on gambling in the city: “The Big Bettors Hide, Hide and Hide.” Featuring Zeppo Marx!
From the first novel Jane Austen completed for publication, one of many meta moments.
Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey (1818).
Related reading
All OCA Austen posts (Pinboard)
“A multimedia installation examining the relationships between culture, geography, and colonial histories in the Americas in the 19th century”: The Histories (Old Black Joe), a collaboration between David Hartt and Van Dyke Parks, is now at the Hammer Museum.
Here’s an interview with Van Dyke about the quadraphonic soundtrack he created for the installation.
A short film from The New York Times about American attitudes toward vaccination for COVID-19. It’s strong stuff. Proceed with caution.
[Dying in the Name of Freedom. August 2021.]
The vaccination rate in Baxter County, Arkansas, when this film was made: 36%. It’s now 38%.
The vaccination rate in my Illinois county: 35%. The attitudes present in this film are the attitudes present here.
Robert Musil. Intimate Ties. Translated from the German by Peter Wortsman. Brooklyn: Archipelago Books, 2019. 207 pages. $16.
Peter Wortsman, in an afterword to his translation:
I took up the challenge, in part as a project to propose to the Österreichische Gesellschaft für Literatur to land a fellowship in Vienna.“Fumbled”: I’ll say.
I got the fellowship and fumbled through the translation.
Like a pair of dark, serenely lowered eyelids, they hid the glimmer of this room in which the tea now trickled from the matte silver pot into two cups, flung open with a quiet clang and then holding still in the shaft of light like a twisted, transparent column of soft brown topaz.The cups are flung open? No, it must be the pot. But who flings a teapot open to pour? And what kind of teapot clangs — and clangs quietly? Is it the pot that’s holding still in “the shaft of light” like a topaz column? No, that must be the tea. And about “the” shaft of light: what shaft?
Everybody makes mistakes occasionally, and, no question, this is a difficult book — but these are elementary mistakes. They are the sort of misunderstandings that bespeak a translator not equably accompanying an author on their way together so much as looking around and wondering in a blind panic where he can have got to. They are mistakes that make of German — where many short, everyday words exist in more than one sense — a sort of German roulette. In the opening scene of the first story, Claudine pours tea. “Aufschlug,” given as the perplexing “flung open” (like a door?), is the sound made by the tea being poured; “Strahl ” is a column of liquid, not a “shaft of light.”And so on. And so on. Hoffman tallies many mistakes in translation and faults Wortsman for Instinktlosigkeit — a lack of instinct. Hoffman also takes Wortsman to task for cheesy alliteration and awkward anachronisms: “Then Claudine got antsy.” I’d call it a lack of sprachgefühl, a lack of feeling for words. Sprachgefühl Necessitates Our Ongoing Tendance, as David Foster Wallace wrote.
In traditional usage, like is a preposition that governs nouns and noun phrases, not a conjunction that governs verbs or clauses. Its function is adjectival, not adverbial.From Intimate Ties:
She looked up to find her fellow passengers joking around cheerfully and harmlessly, like when you see a light and decipher the shapes of small figures at the end of a dark tunnel.And:
She felt it stirring something up in her, like when you walk by the seashore, unable to fully fathom the roar of every action and every thought torn in the fabric of the moment.I could go on. Seeing these sentences in such an elegantly designed book (Archipelago books always look elegant) is a small adventure in cognitive dissonance, like when you see someone wearing a tuxedo and tennis shoes.
Intimate Ties is one of those regrettable publications that hurts the reputations of everyone connected with it: Musil’s own, the translator’s, and even the luckless publisher, Archipelago.And our household is out $32, having bought two copies for our very exclusive reading club. Elaine, who can read German, was beside herself when reading Wortsman’s Musil alongside the original. The sad thing: this translation is the lone translation of Vereinigungen into English. I doubt there’ll be another anytime soon. But I’d like to read one by Michael Hoffman. His review already proposes an alternative title: Conjunctions or Associations.
[From Escape in the Fog (dir. Oscar Boetticher Jr., 1945). Click for a larger view.]
FLanders? FLeetwood? Only the operator knows for sure.
More EXchange names on screen
Act of Violence : The Amazing Dr. Clitterhouse : Armored Car Robbery : Baby Face : Blast of Silence : The Blue Dahlia : Blue Gardenia : Boardwalk Empire : Born Yesterday : The Brasher Doubloon : The Brothers Rico : The Case Against Brooklyn : Chinatown : Danger Zone : The Dark Corner : Dark Passage : Deception : Deux hommes dans Manhattan : Dick Tracy’s Deception : Down Three Dark Streets : Dream House : East Side, West Side : Fallen Angel : Framed : The Little Giant : Loophole : The Man Who Cheated Himself : Modern Marvels : Murder by Contract : Murder, My Sweet : My Week with Marilyn : Naked City (1) : Naked City (2) : Naked City (3) : Naked City (4) : Naked City (5) : Naked City (6) : Naked City (7) : Naked City (8) : Naked City (9) : Nightfall : Nightmare Alley : Out of the Past : Perry Mason : Pitfall : The Public Enemy : Railroaded! : Red Light : Side Street : The Slender Thread : Stage Fright : Sweet Smell of Success (1) : Sweet Smell of Success (2) : Tension : This Gun for Hire : Vice Squad : Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?
[From an e-mail promoting the August 30 issue of The New Yorker.]
I’ve been wavering about whether to let our subscription to The New Yorker lapse. I think this comedy bit has decided it for me. No wavering from Elaine: she’s already said we should let it go.
Now that we’re supposed to listen compassionately to disaffected rural folk opposed to vaccination, older people might be the only group still safe to target for comic purposes. A sample from this New Yorker piece:
Right now, your mom could be holding up the grocery-store checkout line with a long, boring monologue about how much she loves “that Billy Eyelash — such a talented young man.”I’m old enough — but also young enough — to find this kind of stuff painfully dumb.
[One to four stars. Four sentences each. No spoilers.]
Pope Michael (dir. Adam Fairholm, 2010). I went down a rabbit hole reading about “traditionalist Catholicism” and its extraordinary array of papal claimants. David Bawden, Pope Michael I, is one claimant, elected in 1990 by a conclave of six people, which included Bawden himself and his parents. We find this pope living with his mother in rural Kansas and mentoring a young man called to the priesthood in Michael’s One Holy Catholic Church. True believers, son, mother, and seminarian, brought to the screen on an excellent shoestring. ★★★★
[From Pope Michael. Save the date.]
[Watch for free here. The IMDb gives a running time of 1:26, but the film clocks in at 1:05. References in the description of the film to seminarians (plural) and a visit to a winery suggest to me that scenes were cut, perhaps at the request of the disaffected.]
*
Career Girls (dir. Mike Leigh, 1997). Annie (Lynda Steadman) comes to London to visit Hannah (Katrin Cartlidge), her flatmate from university. The movie shifts between their shared past and their reunion — their first meeting in six years. A funny, compassionate, sometimes heartbreaking examination of friendship, loneliness, and the ways in which friendships abide or fall away over time. It’s shocking to learn that Katrin Cartlidge died at the age of forty, a handful of years after this movie. ★★★★
*
Storm Fear (dir. Cornel Wilde, 1955). Hiding out and attempting an escape, against a background of mountains and deep snow. Bank robber Charlie Blake (Wilde) and his cohorts Benjie and Edna (Steven Hill, Lee Grant) have taken over the farmhouse of Charlie’s brother Fred (Dan Duryea), a sickly failed writer, who lives with his wife Elizabeth (Jean Wallace, Wilde’s wife in real life) and son David (David Stollery). Much tension, much resentment, and much overacting, as Benjie presses his challenge to Charlie’s authority and the Charlie–Elizabeth–Fred backstory becomes clear. Things improve enormously when we leave the farm for the mountains. ★★★
*
Escape in the Fog (dir. Oscar Boetticher Jr., 1945). The premise made me think of Vladimir Nabokov’s explorations of precognitive dreaming: a military nurse recovering from war trauma (Nina Foch) has a terrifying dream — and it comes true! The story is all espionage and enemy agents in San Francisco, with some creepy scenes in a watch-repair shop and an improbably delightful escape from death by gas. It’s always a delight to see Nina Foch, a versatile actor, here in the company of so-so William Wright and the much more impressive Otto Kruger and Konstantin Shayne. ★★★
*
The Big Steal (dir. Don Siegel, 1949). Not as good as Out of the Past, but it’s still a movie with Robert Mitchum and Jane Greer. Mitchum plays Lieutenant Duke Halliday, United States Army, accused of stealing a company payroll. He’s both the chased and the chaser: chased by Captain Vincent Blake (William Bendix), and chasing Jim Fiske (Patric Knowles), the guy who has the money. Greer is Joan Graham, Fiske’s erstwhile girlfriend, who teams up with Halliday for chases and romantic banter down Mexico way. ★★★
*
House of Strangers (dir. Joseph L. Mankiewicz, 1949). Film noir, no, no matter what Wikipedia says. Family drama, yes, with Edward G. Robinson as Gino Monetti, proprietor of what might be called a DIY bank on the Lower East Side, lending to his fellow Italian-Americans at exorbitant rates. His four sons seethe, three with resentment, one with fanatical loyalty. Suffice to say that nothing good can come of that. Great performances from Luther Adler and Richard Conte. ★★★★
*
Buck Privates (dir. Arthur Lubin, 1941). I grew up on Bud Abbott and Lou Costello, and I hadn’t seen one of their movies in many years, so I really wanted to like Buck Privates, but — meh. Routines arise out of no context; the Andrews Sisters sing and do their stiff-backed choreography; and a love triangle develops, with no resolution, among a snooty rich kid (Lee Bowman), a camp hostess (Jane Frazee), and the snooty rich kid’s chauffeur (Alan Curtis). Best bits: “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” and the drill routine. In 2021 it’s impossible to watch this movie without recognizing its utter whiteness: the only person of color in the movie is a railway porter who calls himself “Uncle Sammy’s fair-haired boy.” ★★
*
Nomadland (dir. Chloé Zhao, 2020). Widowed and stuck in a dying town, Fern (Frances McDormand) takes to the road to join the nomadic subculture of vandwellers, picking up work here and there, bartering, sharing, and making do. Extraordinary landscapes, extraordinary humanity. With David Straithairn and many real-life nomads whose presence gives the movie a documentary feel. My favorite scenes: Fern’s conversations with nomads Swankie and Bob Wells about death and life. ★★★★
*
Some Came Running (dir. Vincente Minnelli, 1958). Alcoholic writer manqué Dave Hirsh (Frank Sinatra) returns to his Indiana hometown, where he finds familial dysfunction and melodrama. Great performances from Sinatra, Shirley MacLaine (as a heartbreakingly besotted party girl), Martha Hyer (as a sexually fearful schoolteacher), and even Dean Martin (as a behatted gambler). The story turns jumps a school of sharks in its final minutes, but I gather that the ending of James Jones’s novel is just as contrived. Filmed on location in Madison, Indiana. ★★★★
*
The Bedroom Window (dir. Curtis Hanson, 1987). An unmarried man, Terry, and a married woman, Sylvia (Steve Guttenberg, Isabelle Huppert), have just embarked on an affair when Sylvia sees, from Terry’s bedroom window, a man attacking a woman (Elizabeth McGovern) on the street. Pretty awkward for Sylvia, but what could go wrong if Terry calls the police and pretends that he witnessed the attack? A shameless, pleasurable take on Hitchcock — Rear Window, obviously, but also Psycho, Vertigo, Saboteur, and The Man Who Knew Too Much. The last twenty minutes turn into an inane semi-comic chase movie — thus three stars. ★★★
*
The Madonna’s Secret (dir. William Thiele, 1946). Sadly unmemorable: it wasn’t until the brief shot of a boat entering a boathouse, twenty minutes into the picture, that we realized we had seen this movie before. Credit John Alton’s cinematography for that striking image. A middling B-movie, with a painter (Francis Lederer) and his models, who keep turning up dead. Surprise realization: Francis Lederer was in Pandora’s Box. ★★
[The tell-tale boathouse.]
*
Le beau Serge (dir. Claude Chabrol, 1958). A dour young man, François (Jean-Claude Brialy), recovering from what seems to be tuberculosis, returns to his hometown of Sardent (Chabrol’s birthplace) to find his best friend Serge (Gérard Blain) a hapless alcoholic. Having read that the story was inspired by Hitchcock’s Shadow of a Doubt, I was utterly mistaken about what I might find here. What I did find: a story of dismal villagers and a life’s purpose found in self-sacrifice. Filmed in striking black-and-white by Henri Decaë. ★★★★
Related reading
All OCA movie posts (Pinboard)
[Sources: Criterion Channel, Hulu, TCM, YouTube.]
[Nancy, December 8, 1955.]
Nehi? NuGrape? Grapette? I hope it‘s NuGrape.
More soda
“I Got Your Ice Cold NuGrape” : NuGrape and some other soda
