life after death

it's hard to believe that Jimmy Kirkwood has been dead for 17 years.

he'd be so happy that 2 of his plays are being revivd. the beleagurd "Legends" will return with Joan Collins & Linda Evans. I saw the original production with Mary Martin & Carol Channing which had so many problems that Jimmy turnd its story into a book   Diary of a Mad Playwright.

& his longest running play "A Chorus Line" will reappear in San Francisco in a tryout for a Broadway return.

for sale

I read in the paper that the Bela Lugosi funeral book & pallbearer's card are being offerd for $10000.

what film can do

I've written here abt the ability of film to evoke place.

watching "Come Live With Me" last nite brought back memories of meeting some of the cast members.

when I encounterd Hedy Lamarr on Schubert Alley it was 4 years after she'd made her final film & 4 years before her notorious shoplifting arrest. she was nearly unrecognizable in dark glasses & babushka. welllllllll   I guess Hedy wd never wear a babuska. make that a scarf. but clearly not the silk turban she demonstrates for Stewart in the film.

the dashing but forgotten Edward Ashley was at my table for the AFI salute to Alfred Hitchcock. it was at another of those lifetime achievement award dinners that the film's cinematographer George Folsey was at a nearby table.

irascible character actor Fritz Feld   who has an uncreditd bit in the film   was table-hopping with his wife at a party for the cast of "Bubbling Brown Sugar" at the Brown Derby where the Cobb salad was invented. how sad that that historic restaurant cdn't have held on. right now Hollywood & Vine is once again becoming chic.

& how many times over the years did I see Jimmy Stewart?

heavenly Hedy

yesterday afternoon I read the chapter of the Joseph Cornell bio which discusses his infatuation with Hedy Lamarr. it quotes a letter he wrote to Parker Tyler in which he admits seeing "Come Live With Me" 5 times. & it reproduces his "Enchanted Wanderer" in which he matches the best of all writers on film with his loving description of Lamarr in a scene near the end.

I had to put the book down yet again (I've been reading it in distant moments)to go to town for a friend's booksigning. when I returnd I flippd on the tv to see what mite be on. all hail synchronicity. Turner Classic Movies was screening "Come Live With Me."



the movie is utterly charming. Lamarr was at the peak of her beauty & her leading man James Stewart was perfect. he even quotes Christopher Marlowe. & thruout the film there's a fascinating riff with mirrors. neither the critics who met the Clarence Brown production in 1941 nor most commentators since have claimd any major status for the film. but its influence on Cornell alone is enough to make it important. throw in some stunning Adrian outfits & a solid supporting cast & it's as pleasant a way to spend 86 minutes as anyone cd ask.

rip the sky

I opend the drawer   withdrew the biggest knife   slashd gray. hole I made let my fist in. I grabbd the sun & pulld it out. blisterd knuckles mean less than this smile.

bustle & glow

there's a tradition that men don't reveal what happens in the locker room. as both loner & commentator on the human situation I have no compunction abt following such rules.

let me set the scene. I go to the gym every mon   wed & fri morning. however my recent depression pushd me there with more frequency. because I've been going more often & at different times I've been seeing different men there. & I've been noticing the spread into the hinterlands of what the magazines some time ago calld "metrosexuality."

my gaydar is good enough to detect the members of my tribe at the gym. but I see many straight guys who spend f-o-r-e-v-e-r in the locker room. they all bring large bags full of not just the expectd change of clothing but vast amounts of product. some pull out kits which are full of lotions & toners & god-only-knows-whats. they carefully massage nearly all spots of their bodies with said unguents. they use brushes & implements that look medieval to coax what hair remains into something pleasant to their eyes. one brings his own swabs for his ears. too many still use perfumes.

I admit that in my day I pamperd myself. but I never recall straight boys paying so much attention to their looks. perhaps it's a good sign -- a softening of the macho image. however I'm glad I'm old & out of the relationship market. the shock of furrows & spots lessens with the years. vanity among seniors is sad. I feel I've earnd my wrinkles (or "lines of emotion" as my buddy Bob names them). & I get a giggle out of observing tough guys in front of the mirror.

reviewing a career

Fleischer   unlike Cukor   was never known as a "women's director." but going over this filmography this ayem I was struck by the long list of my own favorite film females he directd:

Virginia Grey   "So This is New York"
Barbara Payton   "Trapped"
Adele Jergens   "Armored Car Robbery"
Marie Windsor   "Narrow Margin"
Polly Bergen   "Arena"
Sylvia Sidney   "Violent Saturday"
Joan Collins   "Girl in the Red Velvet Swing"
Diane Varsi   "Compulsion"
Lee Remick   "These Thousand Hills"
Silvana Mangano   "Barabbas"
Raquel Welch   "Fantastic Voyage"
Karen Huston   "Boston Strangler"
Colleen Dewhurst   "The Last Run"
Ina Balin   "The Don is Dead"
Glenda Jackson   "The Incredible Sarah"
Sybil Danning   "Crossed Swords"
Pam Grier   "Tough Enough"
Leora Dana   "Amityville 3-D"
Grace Jones   "Conan the Destroyer"

& he was no slouch with the men. besides heavyweights like Mitchum & Holden   he directd such hotties as Lloyd Bridges & Don Murray   Stephen Boyd & Barry Coe.

the only time I ever saw Fleischer was in nov of 2001. he was riding down Hollywood Blvd in the Xmas Parade.

Richard Fleischer (1916-2006)

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what a jerk

Randy Quaid plays a horse's ass in "Brokeback Mountain." perhaps it was typecasting.

the actor is suing the film's producers for $10 million. he claims he workd for less than his usual fee because he'd been told he was making "an art movie."

if the Hollywood press corps still gives out those Sour Apple awards I nominate Mr. Q (who also happens to be the brother of the actor who calld Brokeback "a dick flick").

dancing with myself

when no one asks me I ask myself. & twirl around the room to music that isn't playing.

other times I answer letters no one's sent. I call them poems.

or stroke the nape of a stranger who hasn't knockd on my door.

I've been known to expose myself to a mirror.

today I ate a whole pineapple from 2 different plates. I was so full I had to take a nap before requesting a waltz.

a Santa Fean on the Great White Way

let me be honest. I never felt Ali MacGraw was much of a film actress. but the lady lives in my town. she's a good citizen. & stunningly beautiful. I see her every once in a while. she's usually in jeans with something simple yet elegant.

tonite is the first preview for "Festen" at the Music Box in NYC. in it MacGraw will be making her Broadway debut as the mother. I wish her well.

weather report

the wind was so loud last nite I had trouble falling asleep. I finally did but was soon awaken by mournful moans from the livingroom. apparently Melina was having nitemares. I calld to her & she ran to the bedroom & jumpd on the bed. together we fell asleep again.

remembering Ramon

cinephiles remember Ramon Novarro as one of the great beauties of the silent era. to see him nearly nude in "Ben Hur" is an experience that doesn't fade. unfortunately more people remember him for his brutal murder.

this morning I saw Novarro as "Laughing Boy." this was the tepid 1934 adaptation of the novel by Santa Fe's Oliver LaFarge. sadly his performance is so soft he's wiped off the screen by saucy Lupe Velez. when she tells him "you do not know a woman from a steer" it's painfully obvious. he tried Broadway unsuccessfully & workd from time to time in small movie roles   ending his career on tv.

even tho I was disappointd in what I saw of his work today there were a few moments when I suspectd that if the sound were turnd off I cd picture the hunk that was.

Iraq

I have nothing fresh to add to the debate.

I feel sad   so sad.

dream a little dream

I've never made a study of my dreams or kept a dream journal. I think part of the reason is that I rarely remember my dreams. only when something wakes me in the middle of one do I usually know what's been going on in that realm.

when Melina woke me this morning I was dreaming abt Gregson Bautzer. I have no idea why. I saw him once at a big Hollywood party 4 years before he died at age 76. & I've seen his grave in the Westwood cemetery whose residents also include Marilyn Monroe & Percy Helton. I've even written a poem in the new Hollywood book abt him. but he's always been a character on the edges & I haven't read anything abt him recently.



Greg Bautzer was a high-profile Hollywood lawyer best known for his bedroom activities. he's the man who brought an end to Lana Turner's virginity & was introducd to Joan Crawford's children as Uncle Greg on his frequent sleepovers. other women in his life were Dorothy Lamour & Buff Cobb   Barbara Payton & Ginger Rogers   Jane Wyman & Dana Wynter. one wonders when he had time for the office.

so why wd Bautzer come to me in the middle of the nite? for the same reason someone I knew in high school a century ago suddenly appears. we hold all this material in our cells & it creeps out when it wants to.

flores por los muertos

on the way home from the gym I went thru the strip mall where the crash happend. people have made a shrine there. the dead were a 20 y/o receptionist   a 43 y/o woman & her 17 y/o son.

vita brevis

from the post office I walkd to a favorite bakery. at the strip mall I saw ambulances & fire trucks & tv cameras. it lookd a bit like Iraq. & then I saw the front of a building smashd in. I went into the bakery & the woman who runs it told me that a woman drove her pickup truck into the waiting room of a medical center killing 3 & injuring at least a half dozen others.

feeling blue

on my way to the post office. if there's enuf sun   perhaps I'll feel purple.

just say no

way to go Jessica . . .

cat as critic

I've never read much poetry criticism. I'd rather read poetry.

but Tony Trigilio trickd me. in his excellent blog he offers a discussion of Aase Berg's "In the Heart of the Guinea Pig Darkness" that's so unique you don't realize you're reading criticism.