Via Richard Jeffrey Newman I found this great video that mocks just about every convention that has been used in dramatic modern movies:

Specific outline of your major character flaws!

Over reaction!

Having not seen many of the most recent film releases, I can at least attest to the fact this sounds like most of the film trailers I’ve seen recently. *wink*

I wonder why my friends at LAMB have to say to this?

Tags: film history, Films

Cliff talks about Handling the Subject of Racism as a Classic Film Blogger — and there’s lots of interesting discussion in the comments too, including mention of a post about the film I reviewed, The Toy Wife.

I agree that too many vintage films are underappreciated — if they’re seen at all. Which is partly why I didn’t mention my queasiness about several scenes with slaves in The Toy Wife. But that wasn’t the only reason…

Along with struggling with how to balance presenting the issues of racism in films of the past, of not wanting to let the known facts of past ruin a film for potential viewers, I struggle with being a white woman discussing it. It’s one thing for me to point out gender issues (I am one, and can honestly react as one), but when it comes to racism I flounder.

It’s not simply a matter of white guilt, or of defensiveness, or even of committing a sin of omission that a person of color can call me out on; it’s about how to honestly portray my horror without co-opting the issue, of committing some sin of insensitivity… If that makes sense. (I bet that does make sense to at least a few other white folks though.)

Eartha Kitt

But, like all the discussion points at Cliff’s post, we shouldn’t just ignore mentioning the subject any more than others should let being told about racist depictions in films sway themselves from watching old films; it’s avoiding the past.

Because of that, I don’t think we should sanitize the racism from vintage films (and animated works), editing out the scenes with mammy’s like cigarettes from Bogart’s hand. Racism is shameful, but like our past obsession with smoking, we can’t deny it simply by giving it the old whitewash — for whatever reason. We have to remember our past honestly, even if it’s painful.

But these are my views… My questions for you, dear readers, are:

* How does racism in film affect your viewing? Do you stop watching &/or avoid films because it’s so uncomfortable? Do you just write it off as “unfortunately, that the way things were…”?

* Do you find the racism so uncomfortable in vintage movies that you wish it was edited out of the film — or that there were edited versions available?

* If you review or blog about movies, do you mention the racism? Why or why not? And if you do, how do you do it?

Tags: film history, Films, history, racism, reviews, vintage

At the Silent Film Archive, I found this scan of an article in the June 1926 issue of The Home Movie Journal, by Raymond Griffith, titled What People Laugh at and What They Don’t.

Page From June 1926 issue of The Home Movie Journal

In this article you’ll find not only the golden keys to comedy, but proof that silent film comedies weren’t made merely of cheap simple sight gags like slipping on banana peels — in fact, the reason why I’ve never found slipping on bananas is actually mentioned in this article:

we even laugh when a man slips on a banana peel although that is not a healthy laugh for the next moment we realize he may have suffered real injury.

In my humble opinion, when you read this old article, you’ll see where many of today’s comedies, comedians, sitcoms, and cartoons have gone wrong; rather than focusing on discomfort and shared embarrassments, much of today’s comedic productions are just simply mean.

Comedies must be clean and wholesome. That is very important. We may laugh at the joke of a comedy situation that is off-color, but we don’t mean it. The laugh is no more sincere when the cause is the man slipping and falling on a banana peel.

You can see and read the rest of the article here — I hope you do, and that you’ll let me know your thoughts.

Tags: classic film, film history, silent film, vintage, vintage magazines

The second Luise Rainer film I watched was such a fabulous film that I’m now devoted to collecting everything I can from or about it.

Luise Rainer in The Toy Wife, 1938

Since this film is a period piece, I posted my review of The Toy Wife (1938) elsewhere — but I did discover something fashion related to discuss…

On the back of the old MGM promotional film still photo by Clarence Bull, the following is typed:

Grey Faille with blue velvet ribbon detail and corded bow fastenings is charming in this costume designed by Adrian for Luise Rainer, in the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer production, “The Toy Wife.” Bonnet of grey straw with blue and grey feather frou-frou and blue velvet tie.

This reminds me that once upon a time, movie stars, especially the actresses, were noted for the fashions they wore in films — not just the red carpets. Seeing such information that was distributed by the studios proves that fashions and designers themselves were part of the film promotion.

Today, if such photos and captions are provided and/or used, the caption probably has more to do with who the actress slept with, some arrest information or other bit of notoriety to gossip about. I much prefer to gossip about the glamour of film and the fashion in film, don’t you?

Back Of Photo Still

Tags: collectibles, designers, film history, vintage glamour

I’m giving High-Fives this Friday to:

1. Incredible silent film news at Inherited Values: finding lost Annette Kellerman film footage! (Other silent film finds too!)

2. And, if you don’t know who Annette Kellerman is… Check out this piece on Kellerman at Gadabout.

Signed Annette Kellerman Photo

3. Also at Inherited Values: meet Mary Fuller — and let her introduce you to Frankenstein?!

4. While you making new acquaintances with old film stars, meet Phyllis Haver over at Things & Other Stuff.

5. Glamourdaze has a fab fashion post on the glamour of 1930’s shoes (via Shoe Fits).

Tags: film history, silent film, vintage glamour, vintage shoes

With all the bustle of holidays, my film friends and I have had a terrible time getting together for our usual movie watching. I myself have even had little time for solo sofa loafing and watching films; hence the lack of film posts recently. But hubby and I did manage to watch TCM’s A Night at the Movies: The Gigantic World of Epics.

The special discussed Hollywood’s “biggest screen spectaculars,” from the genre’s beginnings to how the genre fell out of favor in the ’70s and ’80s — and how epics were recently reborn with films like The Lord of the Rings trilogy, Gladiator, Braveheart, etc. What I really learned was how few of the classic film epics I really have seen.

Of all the films covered, I’ve only seen Gone with the Wind, The Ten Commandments, and Samson & Delilah. Hubby fared far worse, having only seen exactly zero of the films mentioned, despite a college course on classic film history. (Maybe that’s because in ‘93, epics were still out of vogue?) In any case, I decided my movie watching gal pals and I would have to select a few epics and schedule them for our Classic Schmassic film nights.

On my list are The Birth of a Nation, Doctor Zhivago, Ben-Hur, Lawrence of Arabia, The Bridge on the River Kwai, and On the Waterfront (which has been on my list because of Brando in Street Car). But my first choice may just be Cleopatra.

Cleopatra: The Downfall Of Epic Films

Not just because it’s an epic, but because, like Let’s Make Love, I’ve preconceived notions — and wish to protect Marilyn. Simply put, I’ve avoided this last of the epic films because of the epic film history behind it: Cleopatra was sucking the studio dry, so studio execs (fearful that Elizabeth Taylor would walk off set, sending the film and studio further into the sinkhole) used Marilyn Monroe as the whipping girl for film and film star extravagance. Maybe now it’s time to finally watch Cleopatra and judge it as a film.

But I’ll have to see how the other girls in my group feel.

TCM’s own page for the documentary is sans input and your’s truly feels too sheepish to write a synopsis (let alone a review) of documentary of classic films — especially as she’s seen so few of the films under discussion. But Mike Hale at The New York Times has posted what I think is a good review of The Gigantic World of Epics.

I could be biased though, because Hale starts his article off naming Turner Classic Movies as his favorite television channel and ends his article with what I call the proper sentiments regarding acknowledging TCM’s value:

They probably would have also been amused at the notion that within half a century, work like theirs would need preserving — that a television channel would be devoted to it, like an around-the-clock museum. We should all take a moment to look up from our cellphone screens and give thanks.

I do thank TCM. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t be able to try before I buy movies, nor would I know about a majority of films to put on my ‘to watch’ lists. Including epics.

Tags: classic film, film history, Films

High-Five Fridays are easy ways to acknowledge cool articles you’ve read during the week, or a way to give a high-five to a blog or blogger you just like in general by giving them a link — and some readers, we hope! Here are mine for this week:

1 One of Klaudia’s Shoe Fits is finding boots like Brigitte Bardot wore in 1968’s Shalako.

2 At GadaboutMedia, Deanna looks at the shades of history in cosmetic powder colors.

3 At Collectors’ Quest, Val Ubell wishes she had saved her clothing because it’s vintage now — and I agree! (Not only do I wish I had saved more of my own clothing for the return of the 80s, but if Val had saved her own there would be more to buy!)

4 & 5 At Kitsch Slapped, Deanna (how does she write it all?!) shows us vintage cosmetic products used to hide bare legs during wartime rationing — and, while researching vintage mesh purses, she discovered an unusual bit of film history.

Tags: beauty, collectibles, cosmetics, film history, handbags, Makeup, Shoes, vintage fashion, vintage glamour

These vintage Whiting & Davis mesh bags with the faces of screen legends enameled on them are really the ultimate in film meeting fashion!

These and other stunning pieces up for auction at Collect.com (starting November 23, 2009 through December 12, 2009), rare vintage mesh bags from the LaMothe Collection; found via Deanna’s Collectors’ Quest post on vintage Mandalian mesh bags.

Whiting & Davis Charlie Chaplin Portrait Mesh Purse

Whiting & Davis Enameled Mesh Clark Gable Purse

Tags: Accessories, film history, handbags, purses, Shopping, vintage fashion, vintage glamour

For all the things which ail us in Vergito, there’s one thing I and my fellow film-fashion-istas agree upon and that is being haunted by the lovely Kim Novak.

Gazing Upon Kim Novak's Beauty Gazing Upon Another Beauty In Vertigo

While none of us would be as creepy as Jimmy Stewart and force another woman to look just like Novak, we do all admit there would be nothing wrong with emulating Kim’s iconic look in Hitchcock’s Vertigo.

Perhaps the look that most accentuates Novak’s fair and classic beauty in a most decidedly nostalgic and dreamy way is that grey suit — yes, that grey suit that Stewart menacingly stalks and deplorably directs his new girl into wearing.

Kim Novak In Iconic Grey Suit In Vertigo

The little grey suit has it’s own story which explains why the ensemble was so suit-ed to Novak’s role as Madeleine Elster. Director Alfred Hitchcock wanted to give Madeleine’s clothing — and therefore herself — an eerie appearance. So costume designer Edith Head selected the grey suit, saying it would be “odd” for a blonde woman to be wearing all grey, as it can tend to wash a fair woman’s complexion. This, along with some other details, would have the desired, “eerie” and haunting effects.

In order for that suit, or any similarly styled grey suit in a curve-accentuating classic vintage style to really work on Novak in such a way, Novak had to be a blonde. But not just any blonde. Neither a brassy yellow or a bright and bold platinum would work; Novak’s hair would have to be a lovely ashy-blonde.

Ashy Not Brassy Blonde Novak in Vertigo

And Kim — as the sough-after lost-lover, Madeleine — has demure lady-like makeup in neutral ashy tones of taupe, grey and light peach lips. This prevailing ash-tone-wash of color is continued in Madeleine’s ensemble — her gloves, for example, are taupe, not, as her pumps are, a contrasting black.

Overall, this use of tonal-wash is much like today’s use of pastels in set & costuming to create the feel of a black and white film. The more subtle colors lend themselves to a washed-out “living in the shades and shadows of grey” look which mimics classic black and white film (save, perhaps, for the film noir style) and when applied to just one character, makes them pale by comparison in ways which draw attention and make them seem less real at the same time.

Why then would Madeleine’s shoes be black? More “eerie” and off-putting by design. Not only would black pumps seem fashion-backward in the 1950’s world of matching accessories (and therefore more “odd”), but Hitchcock had other reasons which likely mirrored, in an odd way, Novak’s personal fashion thoughts on shoes (Novak believed your shoes should “match your head,” as you’ll soon see). It is my opinion, that the black shoes are the one thing that anchor Novak in those scenes as Madeleine; they are the one thing that tether her eerie and ethereal beauty to the world — Jimmy Stewart’s world and the viewer’s.

When playing Judy, however, not all of Madeleine’s fashion and makeup tricks were used. For example, the same neutral ashen cosmetic tones may be applied when Novak’s alter-ego (or true self, Judy Barton) is forced to have a make-over — but note that Judy’s eyebrows are fuller and darker, the eye make-up still more defined, that the soft blurred and blended regal yet ethereal beauty of phantom Madeleine.

Kim Novak as Judy as Madeleine in Vertigo

If you are film fashion obsessed like I am, you might enjoy this interview Kim Novak did with Stephen Rebello for The MacGuffin (2004), in which Kim discussed her Vertigo wardrobe:

SR: Costume designer Edith Head was quoted as saying that you arrived on the set with all sorts of preconceived notions about what you would and wouldn’t wear.
KN: I was always opinionated. Once we were making Vertigo, Hitchcock never questioned anything about what I was doing character-wise. Before shooting started, he sent me over to Edith Head, who showed me a set of drawings. When I saw them, the very first thing I said was, ‘I’m sorry. I don’t wear black shoes.’ When she said, ‘Alfred Hitchcock wants you to wear these shoes,’ I said, ‘I’m sure he doesn’t mind.’ I didn’t think it would matter to him what kind of shoes I wore. I had never had a director who was particular about the costumes, the way they were designed, the specific colors. The two things he wanted the most were those shoes and that gray suit. When Edith Head showed me that gray suit, I said, “Oh, my god, that looks like it would be very hard to act in. It’s very confining.’ Then, when we had the first fitting of the dress, it was even worse and I said, ‘This is so restrictive.’ She said, ‘Well, maybe you’d better talk to Alfred Hitchcock about this.’

SR: How did that conversation go?
KN: I went in and he said, ‘I understand you don’t like these black shoes.’ He asked me why and I said, ‘I tell you, black shoes always sort of make me feel I’m pulled down. I’ve always felt that your feet should be the same as the top of your head, so that you’re connected. Wearing the black shoes would make me feel as if I were disconnected.’ He heard me out. And then he said, ‘Fine. When you play the role of Judy, you will not have to wear black shoes. When you are playing Madeleine, you will wear them.’ When he put it like that — after all, he’s the director – I said, ‘OK.’

SR: How did being opinionated lead to any other disagreements between you and Hitchcock?
KN: I really wanted the chance to express myself and he allowed me that chance. It felt OK because he had heard me out. He felt my reasons weren’t good enough, they weren’t right. I just wanted to be heard as far as what I felt. So, I thought, ‘I’ll live with the grey suit.’ I also thought, ‘I’m going to use this. I can make this work for me. Because it bothers me, I’ll use it and it can help me feel like I’m having to be Madeleine, that I’m being forced to be her. I’ll have it as my energy to play against.’ It worked. That suit and those shoes were a blessing. I was constantly reminded that I was not being myself, which made it right for Madeleine. When I went out of Alfred Hitchcock’s office, I remember his wonderful smile when he said, ‘I’m so glad we had this talk.’ I think he saw that this was going to be good. He didn’t say to me, ‘Now use that,’ he allowed me to arrive at that myself.

SR: Was it your idea not to wear a bra when you played Judy.
KN: That’s right, when I played Judy, I never wore a bra. It killed me having to wear a bra as Madeleine but you had to because they had built the suit so that you had to stand very erect or you suddenly were not ‘in position.’ They made that suit very stiff. You constantly had to hold your shoulders back and stand erect. But, oh that was so perfect. That suit helped me find the tools for playing the role. It was wonderful for Judy because then I got to be without a bra and felt so good again. I just felt natural. I had on my own beige shoes and that felt good. Hitchcock said, ‘Does that feel better?’ I said, ‘Oh, yes, thank you so much.’ But then, I had to play ‘Madeleine’ again when Judy had to be made over again by Scottie into what she didn’t want to be. I could use that, again, totally for me, not just being made over into Madeleine but into Madeleine who wore that ghastly gray suit. The clothes alone were so perfect, they were everything I could want as an actress.

SR: The short haircut you usually wore in your films was copied by women all around the world. Why did Hitchcock make you wear wigs in Vertigo?
KN: That’s right, my hair was short at that time in my career and Hitchcock wanted that perfect pulled-back hair. I already hated that gray suit and then having to go through putting on that wig with a false front — again made me feel so trapped inside this person who was desperately wanting to break out of it but she was so caught up in the web of deception that she couldn’t. The fear of not being loved if she didn’t have on these clothes or wore her hair in a certain way — oh, god, she had nothing left but to kill herself in the bell tower.

The Two Faces Of Novak In Vertigo

Tags: film history, Makeup, suits, vintage fashion, vintage glamour

This juicy fashion tidbit comes from the March 27, 1950 issue of Quick Magazine:

Hollywood designer Adrian, disregarding Pairs and N.Y., pronounced that there will be no drastic change in the daytime silhouette for the next 50 years, added that the death of the “New Look” proved that attempting to insinuate violent fashion changes in modern times is futile.

Adrian's Fashion Prediction, 1950

Adrian, costumer for Irving Berlin and Cecil B. DeMille productions as well as Valentino films, is said to have been “responsible for creating and refining the images of actresses such as Joan Crawford, Norma Shearer, Jean Harlow and his favorite, Greta Garbo” — but clearly he was off the mark with such sentiments & statements about the death of New Look fashions and “violent fashion changes” being futile in modern times.

From our lovely vantage point of having seen not only Adrian’s future but the very 50 years he spoke of become history, one cannot avoid questioning the story that is told of this designer… No matter how lovely his work was — and it was lovely, just look at the gowns in 1939’s The Women — you have to more critically look at the story here.

Adrian Gowns, The Women (1939)

The story goes that Adrian, frustrated by WWII’s smaller film budgets and shifting values, took up his own fashion design label & shop where he could more freely & grandly express himself & his glamour ideals. Adrian, Ltd. was born:

When Adrian decided to leave the world of costume design in 1941 and open Adrian Ltd, he could have had no knowledge of how perfect his timing would prove to be. With the Nazi invasion of Paris in 1940, all contact with the French fashion industry halted. As nearly all American designers based their designs on those originating from Paris, the absence of information from France created a fashion vacuum. American designers stepped up to the plate, and soon began to create fashions based on an idealized American lifestyle. These new fashions were often casual, practical and made of durable fabrics. Both New York and Los Angeles fought for the title of “America’s Fashion Capitol.” The February 19, 1941 title of a Los Angeles Times article declared, “East and West Struggle for Fashion Dictatorship,” and suggested that Los Angeles would win the battle, ultimately becoming “more powerful in its sway over the civilized world than Paris ever thought of being.”

Adrian debuted his first collection for buyers in January of 1942 at the May Company department store in Los Angeles. Buyers were not particularly excited about this initial collection, so Adrian held another show in February of the same year. This show was a great success and Adrian was soon selling his designs in department stores throughout the country.

But as we, with all due respect (because I do love Adrian’s work!), look at the context here: one clearly sees an aging fashion designer struggling with changing times and fashions.

On one hand, we must admire Adrian for taking a stand for glamour by saying, “It was because of Garbo that I left M-G-M. In her last picture they wanted to make her a sweater girl, a real American type. I said, ‘When the glamour ends for Garbo, it also ends for me. She has created a type. If you destroy that illusion, you destroy her.’ When Garbo walked out of the studio, glamour went with her, and so did I.”

On the other, we have to recognize that Harlow & Garbo, these were not the forms and fashions — nor even the female ideal — of the 1940s & beyond.

Refusing to change his views, his fashion statements, Adrian was able to exploit his status as a famous Hollywood costumer to a (wealthy) public hungry for fashion — and if they wouldn’t readily accept it, he could afford to hold on & push it with such little competition. But New Look fashions continued until, approximately, the mid 1960’s, years after Adrian’s death in 1959 — and there sure were violent fashion changes after that. Perhaps those statements by Adrian from the 1950 magazine clipping sound more desperate than simply catty now; they do to me.

If all this sounds cynical or unkind, I don’t mean it to be; I’m simply pointing out that fashion is both a commerce & an ideal, both of which sit within the context of culture at a specific time — and must change as the culture/times change. You can manipulate, you can create, you can even exploit conditions such as limited competition; but you cannot stubbornly refuse to change and still go on forever.

Tags: designers, Fashion, film history, history, vintage fashion, vintage magazines