Where Was I?
"People change and forget to tell each other."
~Lillian Hellman
There should have been a couple of blog posts back there, before today, but there aren't. See, Miss O’ keeps getting sidetracked. I haven’t published a blog since Memorial Day, though I realized I’d certainly been working on them. Herewith I give you my notes from the past two weekends. Today’s challenge is to weave all the threads together and if not make a whole cloth gown, surely a few coordinating accessories, such as a stylish loose-weave scarf, maybe a couple of earrings, and a purse.
Notes for a Blog Beginning from June 2, 2013 (unpublished; unedited, virtually)
"It's
hard for me to get used to these changing times. I can remember when the
air was clean and sex was dirty." ~George Burns
Winding Bobbins, Importing Pina
There are days—and they can stretch
into weeks—when I think I will never run out of things to write about. Then
there is today.
What Miss O’ really should be doing
right now, instead of writing this letter to you, is winding bobbins of white
thread and black thread and starting on those goddamned sewing
projects—engineering a new seat cushion for the spring-sprung green author’s
chair (pictured in her little eBook); getting all the quilt squares lined in
black (making a stained glass effect…she hopes); shredding all of last year’s
bills and receipts—all while she is loading her 300 CDs into her computer’s new
iTunes account, instigated by friend Quinn last weekend, because Miss O’s CD
player is more or less dead and her depressions have been coming on faster and
staying longer, and Quinn realized the silence wasn’t helping. Bless him. What
do people do without friends?
There are times when Miss O’ isn’t
entirely sure why she has as many friends as she does. One can only assume her
good qualities outpace the unattractive ones, but sometimes your O’ wonders how
long that pace will keep up. She has
been made aware that her PORTENTS OF EXTINCTION, DOOM, DEMISE, AND DEATH,
however scientifically possible, indeed even probable, are really creating an
odor of fish in the guest room after three days. And this is unfortunate. Miss
O’ hopes to inspire calls to action, and instead is moving her readers to
disappear into sun and fun while murmuring, if they even bother to murmur, Miss O’ is the most condescending asshole
I’ve ever met. She called me an “idiot” for my beliefs. So what made me waste
my time with her blog when I should have been playing Frisbee and looking at
cat videos? Ha, ha! Miss O’ kids with condescension! SHE should be not only
watching cat videos, but taking in cats and making a cozy life with them. (I
hear they are adorable.)
I realize there is more to life
than seeing how it’s all going to end, and in that spirit, I looked up some life-as-we-know-it quotations. Here’s a sampling:
Almost anything
you do is insignificant. But it is very important that you do it. —Mohandas
Gandhi
Some
men so dislike the dust kicked up by the generation they belong to, that, being
unable to pass, they lag behind it. ~Augustus William Hare and Julius
Charles Hare, Guesses at Truth, by Two Brothers, 1867, England
The
philosophy of the schoolroom in one generation will be the philosophy of
government in the next.
—Abraham
Lincoln, U.S. President, 1861-1865
Every generation laughs at the old fashions, but follows
religiously the new.—Henry David Thoreau, American writer
The
greatest discovery of my generation is that a human being can alter his life by
altering his attitudes.—William James, American philosopher
There is more to life than increasing its speed.
—Mohandas Gandhi
And now, some women.
[CUE CRICKETS]
Did you know that on the site
Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations, there are no, repeat no, quotes by Rebecca
West, Hannah Arendt, or, say, Lillian Hellman? Now what? Miss O’ is on her
knees here: Could some woman I’ve taught get out there and start a site of
quotes by significant women (and you see? This is why we still have to fight
not only for rights, but for women’s rights),
with histories and links to their works? Dammit. There I go, being negative
again.
·
The sad truth is that most evil is done by people who
never make up their minds to be either good or evil.
—Hannah Arendt, German-American political theorist and writer
—Hannah Arendt, German-American political theorist and writer
·
This is the precept by which I have lived: Prepare for
the worst; expect the best; and take what comes.
—Hannah Arendt
—Hannah Arendt
·
Totalitarianism is never content to rule by external
means, namely, through the state and a machinery of violence; thanks to its
peculiar ideology and the role assigned to it in this apparatus of coercion,
totalitarianism has discovered a means of dominating and terrorizing human
beings from within.
—Hannah Arendt
—Hannah Arendt
(Sure the NSA revelation of national spying is abhorrent, but far more insidious is ADVERTISING: Domination from within, making us fat, nervous, insecure, and greedy for more, all at once. And by keeping the ignorant focused on the unborn (by paying legislators to keep the national spotlight on abortion), the corporations can keep taking your money. This is not conspiracy theory: It's actually happening.)
Sorry, sorry! “Feelin’ groovy!” (C'mon, Miss O'! Have some fun.)
I finally found the perfect girl,
I could not ask for more:
She’s deaf and dumb and oversexed
and owns a liquor store.
—recited by Dean Martin on The Tonight Show, 1969
Notes for June 9 Blog (unpublished; unedited, mostly, with apologies)
[Last weekend, I spent as much time outside as the weather would allow,
but did manage to write this much shit.—ed.]
The Religion Blog, i’ Faith [Note: It's hard to know where this was going. I'll try again some week.]
"Things that grow are not always benign."
Retired Reverend James Jones (1948–), British clergyman, Anglican bishop of Liverpool
Source: Observer (London) (September 20, 2009)
"The strongest principle of growth lies
in human choice."
George Eliot (1819–1880), British novelist
Source: Daniel Deronda
(1876)
This Sunday afternoon in June finds
Miss O’ exiled to Queens because of the Puerto Rican Day Parade being held
along 5th Avenue, which is to say Central Park, in Manhattan.
Because too many male parade participants annually engage in rape, Park Police
simply close Central Park. I am not kidding about this. So this gorgeous day
forces about 2/3 of the park to remain closed until the (male, rape-inclined)
revelers have dispersed. Yes, America, we don’t so much want to stop rape; we
merely want to move it out of tourist-friendly places, such as Central Park. (You know, if we skirts would just stay the fuck OUT OF SIGHT, we wouldn't have this problem with being fucked. AmIright?)
So Miss O’ decided to head out into
her beloved neighborhood to walk about, and at 44th Street—knowing
she would not make it across the 10 lanes + median of Queens Boulevard in the 11-10-9-8 seconds the
flashing red hand was ticking down, turned and saw a poor-folks outlet store,
South Pole, and headed into it. In her leisurely stroll, she saw The Chair.
This was the comfortable, weather-proof porch chair she’d been looking for—the one that would invite her
to enjoy her patch of outdoor space built over her co-op’s trash alley. Here it
is:
Chair with cute bamboo table, which was a trash rescue in 2012. |
In order to get this chair from the
store, I had to carry it roughly 6 blocks, past the bodegas and ball parks; around dog-walkers and past sidewalk benches of old people jawing or studying the Bible
with a magnifying glass; past produce stands and people with shopping carts and
across streets, angling it through her doorways and out onto its present
location. Here I risk the crashing down of handballs and soccer balls, sitting
as I am in the chair, typing and listening to iTunes (The Civil Wars) and an
unseen woman pacing back and forth with her yappy dog, over the fence on the
playground, talking loudly on her cell phone (“I’m gonna call Mom now; you want
me to conference you in?” Oh god. Yes, please conference her in). Because this
is New York City, your big house, so why shouldn’t my porch fence be your phone
booth?
This week I have been thinking
about the energies that keep us moored to our worlds, keep us sane, prevent us
from flying off over the roofs of building and into the windows of mental
hospitals, or away and into abusive substances or abusive people, or pushing to
destroy rather create things, make things. What is it that makes most of us try
to design schemes to encourage the world to be less awful? Because really, most
of us are doing that, it gives Miss O’ this little thing called Faith.
Today, Reader, I’m talking about,
for lack of a better word, spiritual
concerns. As the faithful readers of Miss O’s little blogspot know, she’s a
Pagan Earth Goddess worshipper who can often be found seated happily at the
altar of Theater. But what of religion? Some of my very favorite people are
deeply religious; in fact their lives are not merely defined by religion but
their very begins, er, beings, are inseparable from their religions. The religions I am the
most familiar with on this score are Judaism, Hinduism, Quaker, and the various
sects of Christianity, including Catholicism and a kind of “brethren” idea,
where there is no pastor or tithe—like a better organized and inclusive Bible
study. I do not pretend to understand what these groups provide in the way of
nourishment to their members, and in truth I’m not much interested. I’ve
experienced enough of churches, and they often not only bore the shit out me, they
also can give me the creeps. I can’t help it. But obviously, when I find myself in a church, and that is OFTEN, I'm fine with it. They are putting up with ME, aren't they?
Where I feel most at home, though, is inside a
theater, or anywhere among friends that involves drinking and eating food. And
is that really any different from a place of religious worship? No, it’s not.
Are You Honest? Are You Fair?
There’s a survey in Vanity Fair magazine each month, “The
Proust Questionnaire,” which the editors give to a celebrity to take. In it,
the celeb answers questions such as, “What
quality to you most admire in a man?” What quality do you most admire in a
woman?” “If you could be anyone else at any time in history, who would it be?” Things
like that. Male celebrities are most often given the quiz, at least in the two
years of my gift subscription to the magazine. They most admire “loyalty” in
men, “kindness” in women. Among favorite answerers is Louis C.K., who really pissed off the readers of that magazine with his answers. Louis C.K. is about as honest a comedian as I’ve ever seen. He surely would have to have been Miss O’s husband, if she were supposed to have one of those.
What is the quality you most like in a man?
Just please be fun to talk to.
What is the quality you most like in a woman?
Same. And also sex, please.
What do you most value in your friends?
Friends should always tell you the truth. But please don’t.
Which living person do you most admire?
The guy I saw yesterday. He was crossing Eighth Avenue against the light. He just sauntered out into the middle of the street with cars and cabs speeding toward him and it meant nothing to him. Like he’s the only living soul and the rest of us were ghosts. I love that man, whoever he is.
Another quality that has come up
most often in answers to "most admired quality" is “honesty.”
Not to sound dense, but I’m not
entirely sure what is meant by honesty.
And what is meant by beliefs? Here are "honest beliefs" I have heard articulated by actual people I actually know.
“I believe in Santa Claus.”
“I believe that Jesus Christ is my personal savior.”
“I believe that Chairman Mao is as close to a god has humans will know.”
“I believe that all this stuff about global warming is a crock.”
So when I get to feeling
overcrowded by people and their "beliefs" and creeped out by humans and their "honesty", I like to watch a nice little TEDx. It’s easy to
make fun of these talks, but it seems to me they’d make great companion videos for reading in
high schools and colleges—ways in to difficult subjects.
Stewart Wallis on TEDx
[NOTE: This scientist is HOPEFUL about the
future, and assuming you will not take the 19 minutes required to watch the
distillation of his entire life’s work because you are busy doing your life’s
work, here are the notes I took while watching, which is to say doing my
life’s work.]
"Anyone who believes that exponential growth can go on forever in a finite world is either a madman or an economist."
—Kenneth Boulding (1910–1993), British-born US economist and political activist
Source: Quoted in Jump the Curve (Jack Uldrich, 2008)
[NOTE: In 1980, we were living within our planet’s resources. Now were have nearly doubled that. But who’s counting? (Note: A lot of people are counting: At the rate we are reproducing, we will have 11 billion people on a planet with only a carrying capacity of about 4 billion (we’re currently at almost 7 billion) by 2100.)]
Overusing our life-support systems. Five
mass extinctions before, over very short geological time, but we will be in
less than 100 years.
Are we facing our Big Bang?
The richest 400 Americans have more wealth
than the bottom 155,000,000.
[Belief, prayer, hope: It’s limited isn’t it?
Without action, without conscious creativity and compassion and a willingness
to sacrifice.
So today I bought a chair. It was
manufactured in China under lousy working conditions; the metals mined most
likely by forced slavery in the Congo in Africa; the plastics of the polyester
seat created using oil, drilled at the expense of an ecosystem. Should I or
should I not buy the chair? The chair exists whether I buy it or not.]
We need a new economic model. The goal has
to be to maximize human well-being, which is not to say material prosperity.
It’s about values, what is really valuable, about belonging, connections, love,
and giving. TO GIVE is not part of economics.
Shift from Consumers to seeing ourselves at
Stewards and Economic Citizens.
We have to change what we measure: What gets
measured gets done. Is it all about GDP? [Then where is the odometer? The fuel
gauge? The GPS?]
Which country, of all the countries on
Earth, is in the BEST shape economically, ecologically, and in terms of the
health and happiness of its people? Costa Rica. Happier, and they live on a
quarter of what we do.
(The rich think the poor are the drag on our
planet, but really the RICH are DESTROYING the world. Literally. The rich need
to die, to follow their own advice, I mean.)
"Markets have become our religion."
--Adam Smith on moral end of economics
Why don’t we TAX use of norenewable
resources rather than tax labor? Think about that.
Losing Our Religion
[More notes: It's time to lose our true religion: Money Worship]
“The
markets make a good servant but a bad master, and a worse religion.”
Amory
Lovins is an American energy expert.
Working
with Others: A Movement for Change.
If
you are living for “Heaven,” all I ask is that you get out of the way.
An
economy of the common good...
OxFam
(trying to supply fresh water—out of money, out of water) did it alone because
the U.S., France, no one would help. Sometimes the impossible is possible. If
it’s the right cause and enough people, we can do this.
We have to be honest: Whether you have a
god, a God, a place of worship, a good book, or NOT, if you are not deeply
honest with yourself and honest in your actions, you are, deeply, a fraud. No
one who is coming from an honest place, guided by love and not hate, is one to
be feared. Unless it's a Bush.
We Are Girl, Interrupted
My actor friend Pat from
Atlanta called to tell me that he’d found another book on actor training,
titled, curiously, Actor Training,
second edition, a collection of essays on aspects of actor training by a
variety of people in the field (not to be confused with the first edition,
which included “20th Century” in its title), edited by Alison Hodge.
Below are the notes I managed to take while talking to Pat, who is 67 and
forever searching for insights to be a better actor and coach.
The big names in acting
were focused on specific aspects of acting:
Stanislavsky—psychological
Meyerhold—physical
Maria
Neville—synthesized Stanislavsky and Michael Chekhov (To the Actor)
Sticking
to realism—how the political situation held all these people—what we want to
say to each other.
Robert
Cohen’s “positive expectations" is important, too.
Jacques
Copeau (St. Denis was apostle?) is
another major teacher.
I told Pat about my own
rereading of Joseph Chaikin's The Presence of the Actor, comparing him with Grotowski and André Gregory, but just
then Pat’s student arrived and it was time for coaching, and realized it was
time for wine and a movie on YouTube, and there went the weekend and anything like finishing the blog.
Insane yet?
Bit by Bit, Putting It Together: Blog for Today, June 15, 2013
The week has been covered in
raindrops. The literal rain could be measured in several inches, and was
relentless whenever I had to walk to or from work, except for Wednesday, which
was gorgeous all of a sudden. There were figurative raindrops, too: At my work,
a colleague of many years died of lung cancer at age 62, and this event has led
another colleague to decide to retire; another great colleague (age 52) is leaving
in July to go back to graduate school in clinical psychology; still another
great colleague (age 48) is leaving in August to go back to graduate school in
animation. (Miss O’ is 49. The prospect of reinvention is exciting, and of
death, sobering.) So change is afoot in my immediate workplace, right in the
midst of a big reorganization, too, after being sold to an investment group in
March. And then what?
So when all this sadness and loss
and confusion is happening, what you do is go to see the restored “road show”
screening of 1963’s Cleopatra, which
may star Elizabeth Taylor, but really its legend belongs as much to guys like my friends
Howard and Bobby, as to La Liz. As boys aged 10 and 14, respectively, living in
Evanston, Illinois, and Brooklyn, respectively, they fell hard for Elizabeth
Taylor’s eye makeup, because they were, both of them, very, very gay. While
Bobby only used tracing paper over the Life Magazine cover to make a pattern so
that he might draw her eyes over and over and over, little Howie wanted his own
eyes to look like Liz’s. Cleopatra
was the fulfillment of his childhood Egypt obsession: there in his family’s
Evanston apartment bathroom, he could lock the door and draw the lines around
his eyes with mom’s black eyebrow pencil, and just as he was about to perfect
the shape, he’d hear, “Howard, what are you doing?” and he’d call, panicked,
“Nothing!”
In addition, Howard has his
master’s in film studies (his first book, about the costume designer Adrian, of that single name, like "Cher"—he did The Wizard of Oz, for example—was featured in the window dressing
at Barney’s here in NY when it came out), and he is just a treasure trove of movie information. Bobby, too, is an old movie buff, and you all know your Miss O’.
So this week, as Howard and I went about our editorial tasks at work, and as Bobby went
about his tasks at the office of another employer, the three of us used the magic of email to build
up for the Big Night. Herewith a sampling, which I’ve rearranged first to
last, instead of the way e-trails usually work.
NOTE: None of this may be remotely
entertaining to you if you don’t know the movie, or the other movie stars we
reference here, or us, for that matter. But here is the point of sharing it at all: Just as the only reason to get an education is so you know why The Simpsons
is funny, just so you immerse yourself in movie and pop culture trivia in order to exchange in-jokes with people you know and love.
ANOTHER NOTE: These exchanges
happen as we actually complete actual work (you'd be astounded at how many meetings were attended and deadlines met amid these little messages), and the nature of our jobs is such
that we can hit up Google Images and in seconds copy an image to match, lest
you think we spend much time on this, because we really don’t.
ALMOST FINAL NOTE: As for the images: Clearly no copyright infringement is intended. I don't even know who the fuck most of the people are.
FINALLY: Don't tell Howard or Bobby I did this.
E-TRAIL-ER: Cleopatra at Film Forum
Starring Howard (Howard), Bobby (Robert), and
Miss O’ (O'Hara, Lisa)
From: Howard
Sent: Monday, June 10, 2013 11:40 AM
To: O'Hara, Lisa; Robert
Subject: Don't forget . . .
We’re going down the Nile tomorrow
From: O'Hara, Lisa
Sent: Monday, June 10, 2013 11:41 AM
To: Howard; Robert
Subject: RE: Don't forget . . .
We’ll BARGE right in!
From: Robert
Sent: Monday, June 10, 2013 11:51 AM
To: O'Hara, Lisa; Howard
Subject: RE: Don't forget . . .
Still finalizing my outfit.
Should I go as Bella or… yes … it’s who you think it is…
Mitzi!!!
From: Howard
Sent: Monday, June 10, 2013 11:55 AM
To: Robert; O'Hara, Lisa
Subject: RE: Don't forget . . .
It seems everyone was trying
out for that role . . . even Marilyn!
Note: That is Marilyn Monroe as Theda Bara as Cleopatra by Richard Avedon. |
From: O'Hara, Lisa
Sent: Monday, June 10, 2013 11:59 AM
To: Howard; Robert
Subject: RE: Don't forget . . .
Even Britney Spears.
Because…wow. Is anyone duller? Anyone?
From: Howard
Sent: Monday, June 10, 2013 12:05 PM
To: O'Hara, Lisa; Robert
Subject: RE: Don't forget . . .
And Lucy!! I guess Mr. Mooney
played Caesar and Vivian played Mark Antony.
From: Robert
Sent: Monday, June 10, 2013 12:09 PM
To: Howard; O'Hara, Lisa
Subject: RE: Don't forget . . .
Gosh, my grandmother had
several of those crowns. They were finials at the top of her living room
drapes.
From: Howard
Sent: Monday, June 10, 2013 12:18 PM
To: Robert; O'Hara, Lisa
Subject: RE: Don't forget . . .
Madonna would later use them as cone bras in her Truth or Dare
tour.
Seriously, it was
unbelievable how Liz and Cleo infiltrated pop culture in 1962 and 1963. Almost
every situation comedy from The Lucy Show to Dick Van Dyke had a “Cleopatra”
episode. Veronica in Archie comics got a “Cleopatra hairdo.”
From: Robert
Sent: Monday, June 10, 2013 12:21 PM
To: Howard; O'Hara, Lisa
Subject: RE: Don't forget . . .
Morey Amsterdam came the closest to looking like Liz.
From: Howard
Sent: Monday, June 10, 2013 12:27 PM
To: Robert; O'Hara, Lisa
Subject: RE: Don't forget . . .
Not by a long shot. I guess you didn’t see Don Knotts as Cleo
when Barney Fife essayed the role in a pageant staged at the Mayberry jail
house. Frances Bavier was riveting as Lotus, the slave girl. Otis the drunk
played Apollodorus.
From: Robert
Sent: Monday, June 10, 2013 12:29 PM
To: Howard; O'Hara, Lisa
Subject: RE: Don't forget . . .
Opie played a severed penis. Most productions omit that scene.
[And….LUNCH]
[And...We're back.]
From: Robert
Sent: Monday, June 10, 2013 1:29 PM
To: Howard; O'Hara, Lisa
Subject: More Egypt
But what I honestly DO love are the costumes and sets—the whole
art deco look—of DeMille’s Cleopatra.
Have you ever seen it, Lisa?
From: Howard
Sent: Tuesday, June 11, 2013 2:00 PM
To: Robert; O'Hara, Lisa
Subject: Re: More Egypt
But it’s just as illogical.
I prefer the Esther Williams
approach used in The Egyptian
From: Robert
Sent: Tuesday, June 11, 2013 2:50 PM
To: Howard; O'Hara, Lisa
Subject: RE: More Egypt
Oh, absolutely as illogical. And as I realized the last time I
saw it, rather slow and boring.
But looks fabulous!
Are you sure that isn’t a pic
of Edie Beale?
From: Howard
Sent: Tuesday, June 11, 2013 2:59 PM
To: Robert; O'Hara, Lisa
Subject: RE: More Egypt
In actuality, Cleopatra ruled from Alexandria, which was a
hybrid Greek/Egyptian city with a very mixed population. Egyptians but lots of
Greeks and even Jews. Cleo, in real life, probably dressed mostly in the Greek
fashion, and probably only donned traditional Egyptian dress at ceremonial
functions. And while some of the costumes in the ‘63 version are improbable,
the ones that are “authentically” Egyptian are more realistic than those in the
‘34 version. And Warren William and Henry Wilcoxon are unendurable.
Just my measly two cents.
That is Gene Tierney as
Beketaten in The Egyptian, ready for a dip in the Nile. Little does her feline
pal know that he will soon wind up as a bathing suit in the princess’s
wardrobe.
From: O'Hara, Lisa
Sent: Tuesday, June 11, 2013 3:55 PM
To: Howard; Robert
Subject: RE: More Egypt
I like eyes and hair! I haven’t seen Colbert except in clips.
The wigs alone are fascinating.
From: Robert
Sent: Tuesday, June 11, 2013 4:01 PM
To: O'Hara, Lisa; Howard
Subject: RE: More Egypt
Actually that particular shot is from “The Sign of the Cross”
made a year or two earlier. She plays Poppea.
They mixed a few stills from
that pic in with Cleo on that page…dopes. They need me and Howard for proper
authenticating.
From: O'Hara, Lisa
Sent: Tuesday, June 11, 2013 4:04 PM
To: Robert; Howard
Subject: RE: More Egypt
You guys are a walking TCM
Archive. You should make YouTube videos.
From: Howard
Sent: Tuesday, June 11, 2013 4:09 PM
To: O'Hara, Lisa; Robert
Subject: RE: More Egypt
We should run TCM. We’d be a
lot more interesting than Robert Osborne. I could do Marilyn Monroe
impressions, and Bobby could write his world famous bios for the Now Playing
guide. That’d wake up our audience.
[Notes: 1. Bobby and
Howard actually like Robert Osborne. 2. Bobby has been banned from Wikipedia
for going in to “enhance” the biographies of old movie stars like Norma Shearer
and Beulah Bondi, to sex them up. They are inaccurate, sure, but god, were they hilarious.]
From: Robert
Sent: Tuesday, June 11, 2013 4:18 PM
To: Howard; O'Hara, Lisa
Subject: RE: Osborne
Yes, it’s time for that dying drunk to step aside.
The Howard and Bobby Show on TCM:
“As Memory (Ours) Fades”
From: Howard
Sent: Tuesday, June 11, 2013 4:40 PM
To: Robert; O'Hara, Lisa
Subject: RE: Osborne
Bobby introduces “Days of
Wine and Roses” on The Essentials
From: Howard
Sent: Tuesday, June 11, 2013 4:49 PM
To: Robert; O'Hara, Lisa
Subject: RE: Osborne
Howard introduces Cleopatra’s
Daughter on the “Not –So-Essentials”
From: O'Hara, Lisa
Sent: Tuesday, June 11, 2013 4:53 PM
To: Howard; Robert
Subject: RE: Osborne
Special Guest Lisa O’Hara
joins the merry pair to discuss her favorite film, The Best Years of Our
Lives:
From: Robert
Sent: Tuesday, June 11, 2013 5:01 PM
To: Howard; O'Hara, Lisa
Subject: RE: Osborne
Wow, it’s been a while since
I’ve seen you. You look incredible! Have you had work done?
From: O'Hara, Lisa
Sent: Tuesday, June 11, 2013 5:13 PM
To: Howard; Robert
Subject: RE: Osborne
I can’t wait for you to see
my implants.
From: Robert
Sent: Tuesday, June 11, 2013 5:16 PM
To: Howard; O'Hara, Lisa
Subject: RE: Osborne
I was really hoping to wear
this, but it’s sold out.
[AND....SCENE.]
Oh, good times! Is there anything as
fun as bad taste? So at the movie, for which we stood in line and waited 50 minutes to make sure we could sit together, Bobby and Howard and I ran into my friend
Kevin Townley, one of TimeOut New
York’s Most Stylish New Yorkers of 2012. We all sat behind an afflicted old man
who “reacted” throughout the movie, driving the man in front of him crazy.
Finally, Bobby said, as only a New Yorker can, “Aw, shut up!” and the crazy man
did, in fact, shut up. Mostly. Howard referred to him as Professor Irwin Corey,
and Bobby called him my husband.
Here was my assessment of the film,
in case you wanted to know, as posted on Facebook:
I must tell you, I had never seen "Cleopatra" before.
It's not a good movie, though the first half with Rex Harrison is quite fine
(and all Richard Burton needed was ONE ADDED INCH to his little skirt not to
look absurd, while Miss Taylor needed about a dozen fewer costumes). At the
sold-out Film Forum showing of the "road show cut", even with the
excellent Wanger Sisters (daughters of producer William Wanger and Joan
Bennett, who played Elizabeth Taylor's mom in "Father of the Bride")
and their fun intro stories notwithstanding; and the hilarious recollections of
friends Bobby, who in 1963 drew her eyes over and over and over, and Howard, at
age 10, making his mom take him, and dreaming of making his eyes look just like
hers (MOM (calling into bathroom): "Howard, what are you doing in
there?" HOWARD (with black pencil): "Nothing..!"), AND the
unexpected presence of Kevin Townley (always a delight), it was a rather long
night, what with Prof. Irwin Corey on meth in front of us, calling out
throughout. Still, it was an event. And I got home at nearly 1:00 AM with
plenty of company, so it could have been worse. Here's to classic movies and
their addicts. Kiss.
Miss O’s unflattering assessment of this “classic” pissed off a lot a people,
so here is my comment to the pissed-off:
I
saw an interview on A & E with its star, and learned that after seeing it
for the first time, Elizabeth Taylor fled the theater to run to the ladies
room, where she threw up. I don't think it's that bad, but in fact (as I
learned from my friend Howard) Joseph Mankiewicz was making two films,
"Caesar and Cleopatra" and "Antony and Cleopatra," but
because of the Taylor-Burton affair, studio chief Darryl Zanuck demanded that
it be ONE movie, and Mankiewicz said no, so Zanuck fired him and spliced the
two movies together himself. So rather than a 7 1/2 hour, 2-movie epic, this
was the result. We saw the 4-hour road show version (meaning the first
theatrical release), but the one shown on TV has been cut to 3 hours, so it's
even more confusing to follow. (My friend Howard said that this was the first
time he'd ever seen the "completed" film, and it was much clearer in
terms of story.) The Wanger sisters said that there are 3 1/2 hours of this
movie still locked in the Fox vault! You'd think some preservationists would be
allowed to try to assemble it all together. Howard and Bobby worship this
movie, and I can see the appeal (Cleopatra's entrance into Rome is fantastic).
So glad to know it still has fans. This single showing was sold out.
Floatie, Veni, Sleepy: We
barged, we saw, we endured! Slaves, soldiers, set builders, costume sewers, and all the other unsung, suffering laborers of the world came together across history, across time, to Rome via London via Hollywood, to make this epic for three little people (us!) to watch in a movie house in one little neighborhood on Earth in 2013. Give 'em a hand, folks! Cleopatra ruled as a god in her lifetime, and flash forward a couple of thousand years, La Liz ruled over Cleopatra as the new god: Money. Hers was the first $1,000,000 salary, plus 10% of the absolute gross, forever changing movie star worth in the world. (Money makes the world go around, but most of us just want what George Bailey worked so hard to get for his townspeople: a couple of decent rooms and a bath. The rich don't believe us.)
(Far From) The Only Living Boys (and Girl) in
New York
After
the movie, Bobby, Howard, and I walked up to the very busy West 4th Street to
catch Uptown and Brooklyn-bound (very full even at midnight) trains, and Bobby pointed to two different
buildings he lived in when he moved to Manhattan in 1974—one on 6th Avenue,
and one over on Minetta Lane. “I was 26,” he said, “and it was really nice here
then. My rent was $140 a month.” He gestured to Father Demo Square, “which was just a couple of
benches then, nothing fancy like it is now.” ("Was there this fence?" "No fence.") The wind was soft, it wasn’t
raining, and really the best part of living in New York—the best part of
living, period—is walking along the road, cracking wise with your good friends
after a day of work, an evening of play, laughs all along, a sense of history,
of life lived, of place, and heading home to bed. Our devotion to movies is religious, our love for each other is honest, and we weren't raped even once. The world didn't come to an end, at least not today. We knew the way home, and we got there. What more can you pray for?
Well, maybe to look like this:
Cleopatra: There are never enough hours in the days of a queen,
and her nights have too many.
You said it, sister!
[Cue ALEX NORTH SCORE!]
And
so that's where my head is today, angels, with love from
Miss
O’
But with a hat like that, you'd have to bow when going through a doorway, and a queen should never bow. I suppose you could limbo your way through--which I would love to see; be sure to keep a regal expression--but the crown would probably cause you to topple backwards. Make sure the crown is reinforced--maybe gilded tungsten, which would probably be godawful heavy--and crash right through, leaving crown-shaped holes wherever you. It would be like "Kilroy was here," but more tangible: "Miss Cle-O' was here, taking out your lintel."
ReplyDeleteSaying a movie that some people love is bad is great, as long as it's an informed opinion--so many reviews aren't. I was looking up Joss Whedon's version of "Much Ado About Nothing" to see if we knew the Hero, whom we don't, since it's her first credited role, and I decided to look at the comments--cue the well-deserved music of doom and bad decisions. First one--I didn't finish, because the opening pissed me off--someone in France, had heard about the movie but had never heard of Whedon, so looked up his filmography (okay so far...): "UTTER TRASH." Presumably because the core of said filmography would be Buffy, Angel, Dollhouse, and Firefly, and if you've seen much of any of these shows, you've heard of Whedon. Ergo, you haven't seen much of them, and you have nothing to base an assessment on. (Okay, maybe if you saw only episodes from seasons 6 or 7 of Buffy, which overall were painful.) We had a party once, years ago, where a colleague--a dear friend, but somewhat abstemious, and occasionally opinionated where she shouldn't be--was looking at our DVDs. Another colleague wandered over, an even older friend of the first, both here for decades, and the first was clearly about to sniff at our complete set of DVDs about a certain slayer, when the second saw the set and exclaimed, "Why, that appears to be a complete Buffy." (His actual words.) When a well-known Shakespearean scholar says things like that, it tends to shut the sniffing down, as it did. Chris saw the exchange, I didn't, and I would love to have seen it. (As I said, the first is a dear friend, but she *will* sniff. But we did get her to watch at least "The Origin of Love" from Hedwig, and she did watch much of the newer Battlestar Galactica, so she doesn't always sniff.)
As for "sniffing": A kid I student taught informed me that the E Street Band was awful because his music teacher said Clarence Clemons couldn't play saxophone--to which I said, "Clarence Clemons is a rock god, and no one knows the name of your music teacher."
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