I Got Nuthin'

Consolation Video: "Beat Girl" (1960) Opening Credits (a k a "Wild for Kicks") - Music by John Barry via YouTube
via Jack Pendarvis

Separated at Birth: Jerry Lewis and...

Peter Griffin.



Jerry Lewis: "The Errand Boy" (1961) and Peter Griffin: "Family Guy" (2010) via YouTube

Sally Brown on "Citizen Kane"

Continued From: "Big Weekend"

Charles Schulz is reported to have viewed "Citizen Kane" on 40 occasions and he couldn't resist a sporadic, somewhat obscure reference to the motion picture in the "Peanuts" comic strip.

Here's Sally Brown's 1989 reaction on her first exposure to the classic film.

via Herb Caen's All-Time Greatest Item, which explains the shocking origin of "Rosebud" in "Citizen Kane." (adult content)

Big Weekend

Big weekend, screening "Citizen Kane." A 70th anniversary 35mm showing of Orson Welles' landmark production was presented at the Fox in Atlanta.

While "Kane" is not my favorite movie ("Rear Window") due to this lanky lad's nifty tastes and adorable peccadilloes, it's near the top of the list -- yet, I do certainly recognize the enterprise as the greatest film ever made. I'm not alone in the assessment either. Vast numbers of critics, historians, and buffs around the globe have long agreed to the drama's supreme perch in the cinematic firmament.

"Citizen Kane" was also cartoonist Charles Schulz' favorite motion picture, viewing it time and time again. An unexpected mention immediately catapulted the following entry to my fave strip in the entire 50-year run of "Peanuts." Happiness is a Charles Foster Kane.

Spoiler Alert!

via DavidLavery.net

For a Few Comments More

Continued From: "Big Weekend"

Atlanta's Plaza Theatre has been reviving the early Sergio Leone spaghetti westerns, commonly known as "The Man With No Name Trilogy," although Clint Eastwood plays guys named Joe, Monco, and Blondie in them.

So much for historical accuracy. I blame government schools.

I was able to catch the final two movies in the series, however I missed the first one. I had to work at the Fox Theatre that day. We showed "To Kill a Mockingbird" -- or, as I called it, "A Fistful of Boo."

Big Weekend

Big weekend, attending the Plaza Theatre in Atlanta, where it occurred to me I am in my 50th year of watching movies inside this venue.

Oh, I occasionally go a decade or two between visits.

*sigh*

I got homework (elementary school, high school, college school, spouse).

But, that's cool, my darling.

*sigh*

The first movie I saw at the Plaza was back in 1962, on a Saturday afternoon. The latest, on Saturday evening.

From "The Ten Commandments" to "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly," it's like we've got a theme going.

I Got Nuthin'

Consolation Video: The Moylan Sisters: "My Little Buckaroo" from "Toyland Casino" (1938) via YouTube

---

Thanks to Frank Thompson

Big Weekend

Big weekend with "Saturday Night at the Morty's." Our beloved puss chose the feature film flick, "Cats & Dogs: The Revenge of Kitty Galore" (2010).

As my mother the movie critic said after nearly every picture she ever saw, "That was cute."

Morty said, "That was meow."

I dig (I put that in for you pups) the main title sequence, produced in the glorious design style of Maurice Binder from the early James Bond movies. Extra bonus: the song is voiced by Dame Shirley "Goldfinger" Bassey.

See the "Cats & Dogs: The Revenge of Kitty Galore" credit sequence video and related materials at Forget the Film, Watch the Titles.

Separated at Birth: Buddy Hackett and...

Peter Griffin. 



Buddy Hackett: "Shipoopi" from "The Music Man" (1962) via YouTube



Peter Griffin: "Shipoopi" from "Family Guy" (2005) via YouTube

I Got Nuthin'

Consolation Video: "George C. Scott Watches the 'Jack and Jill' Trailer" via YouTube
Thanks to Frank Thompson

Stuporman!

During a showing of "Green Lantern," I had an epiphany.

I, too, possess super powers!

I can sleep through anything.

Meet The NBC Penguin

Continued From: "101 Things About Me #183: A Boy of Color" | "On Loving Color: The NBC Peacock" | "Cock Tails for Two"

In 1967, at the dawn of the full-color era of television, a problem arose. The Beatles' popular black-and-white movie, "A Hard Day's Night," was slated to make its broadcast debut.

"Oh, no! We're the "Living Color" network! The picture is in black-and-white!"

Solution: The NBC Peacock was given the night off and the film was proceeded by The NBC Penguin.

I am not making this up. Here's the video.



"The NBC Penguin" via YouTube

Big Weekend

Big weekend, attending the "Sing-A-Long 'Sound of Music.'"

For special engagements, the 1965 Rodgers and Hammerstein film musical has been refurbished with the lyrics onscreen throughout. The audience is encouraged to sing aloud during the movie.

I was so into it, belting out each and every word. Well, until I was bodily ejected from the theatre.

You know,

THE CHILDREN
Charmian Carr
Nicholas Hammond
Heather Menzies
Duane Chase
Angela Cartwright
Debbie Turner
Kym Karath

and
Eleanor Parker
as "The Baroness"

is quite a mouthful.

I Got Nuthin'

Consolation Video: Joe Dante's "MANT!" Part 1 (1993) via YouTube

Joe Dante's "MANT!" Part 2 via YouTube

Big Weekend

Big weekend, taking our car to see "Cars 2." 

There's nothing quite like go-and-dinner-and-a-show-and-a-go.

Afterward, we went for coffee and a quart of 5W-30 and someone got its dipstick wet.

Daughter of Blob

Continued From: "Movies in the Movies: 'The Blob' (1958)" and "Son of Movies in the Movies: 'The Blob' (1958)"

The annual Blobfest is underway and I can't make it to the festivities. A gargantuan prehistoric stinkbug is terrorizing my 1993 Saturn without foreplay or a proper introduction.

Special guest star Rutger Hauer is in my kitchen terrorizing our Honey Nut Cheerios® and the box of Popsicles®. Fortunately, he's just here for the day. My poor Craisins®.

The Blobfest, for you latecomers, is nicely summarized by the lazy writer's favorite source, Wikipedia:

Since 2000, the town of Phoenixville, Pennsylvania — one of the filming locations — has held an annual "Blobfest". Activities include a re-enactment of the scene in which moviegoers run screaming from the town's Colonial Theatre, which has recently been restored. Chef's Diner in Downingtown is also restored, and is open for business or photographs of the basement on weekday mornings only.

Now, that's kinda tingly, "photographs of the basement." I hope it's still damp down there with Moist Mop Blob Goo® (which I in no way mention to infringe on any pending Lady Gaga signature fragrances).

Reading more about "The Blob," Wikipedia caught my piercing, introspective, kindly, 20/14 eyes with a rundown of all of the film's follow-ups.

A comedy sequel was made in 1972, entitled "Beware! The Blob," directed by Larry Hagman. In 1988, a remake of the same name was made. In August 2009, it was revealed that musician turned director Rob Zombie was working another remake, but is no longer working on this project.

All well and, um, probably crummy, but I haven't seen them. I have viewed what must be the definitive sequel to "The Blob," a sequence from Woody Allen's 1972 hit, "Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex, but Were Afraid to Ask."

Here is a portion of the footage I call "The Boob" with Woody (no, no, that's not Steve McQueen!), Heather MacRae, and Dort Clark.

(Adult themes, language, milk products)



The Boob From "Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex, but Were Afraid to Ask" (1972) via eBaum's World

Son of "Movies in the Movies: 'The Blob' (1958)"

Twelve months have passed since I wrote "Movies in the Movies: 'The Blob' (1958)." It's been an uneventful year, completely Blobless, if you don't count my stomach.

I'll count it for you.

One.

And growing.

Growing.

And growing.

Indescribable... indestructible! Nothing can stop it!

My impressive, impressionable, boundary deficient tummy.

Run, kids. Get the hell out!

Anyway, my article focused on the delightful projectionist murder and crowd evacuation sequence at the theatre The Blob crashes.

A new essay, courtesy of the A.V. Club, takes us to "Philadelphia: 'The Blob' Movie Theater." There's an accompanying video about the annual Blobfest event, echoing my report, taking us inside the scene of the crime: the Colonial Theatre projection room. Watch and scream!

Big Weekend

Big weekend, surviving the nefarious "Robot Monster"! 



"Robot Monster" Trailer via YouTube

An unfrequent 35mm engagement of the 1953 alleged science-fiction alleged chiller was enough to roll me out of bed and scream at the heavens, "Why, God? Why?!"

He didn't respond, so I bawled and crawled from the bedroom into the yard and over to the car. I managed enough strength to pull myself and sidekick chest mud and grass stains up into the driver's seat. I turned the ignition key. The engine started, dadgummit. I aimed the wheels due north for Chattanooga.

A giant hand descended from a fluffy cloud over the highway, grabbed my vehicle's roof between a gargantuan index finger and exemplary opposible thumb. With a lightning fast twist of that wrist, the car spun around, now pointed south. The hand gave my trusty coupe a powerful nudge, so I drove towards Atlanta and the Plaza Theatre, host to the "Robot Monster" debacle. I was going to watch the motion picture after all.

Don't believe the hyperbole you saw in the coming attractions trailer (above).

Overwhelming!
Electrifying!
Baffling!

That boast is exaggerated by two-thirds. "Robot Monster" is Underwhelming! Coma Inducing! Baffling!

Baffling it is. A more apt description would be hard to concoct. The incredulous story of aliens from outer space, who are supposedly robots, but have the bodies of mangy, furry, gorilla suits with zippers up the back, topped off with no big monkey heads, stuffed into deep sea divers helmets.

The exposition descends into less plausibility as it goes along. The epic is set in a desert with nowhere to deep dive, excepting the soapy reservoir of the villain's evil Billion Bubble Machine. The plot is a shambles. Continuity changes inexplicably, and in the middle of this end-of-the-world tale, stock footage of predatory lizards impersonating dinosaurs pop into sight with no reasoning or table manners.

I fingered the shutter button on my camera -- and, unscrewing the bulb, an aisle light socket.

Hmmm. Maybe this flick is electrifying.

Either me or the snapshots got fuzzy. You smell smoldering hair?

The film is known as "Robot Monster," "Monster From Mars," "Monsters From the Moon," and a stultifying, soul-sapping heap.

Over the course of a misspent life, I have had the prickly heat of seeing "Robot Monster" in 3-D, in 2-D, and in this newly-revealed process the Plaza calls "Super HypnoPrismaScope!" Additionally, all showings of the flick were presented in the miracle of 37-Z.

"Zzz-zzzzzz-zzzz-zz-zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz..."

The handsome cardboard-mounted "Magic Glasses" lenses issued to the audience added a dash of rainbow colors to the black-and-white 2-D print projected onto the screen. Multiple identical images dazzled, blurred, and swirled around my migraine.

The effect suggested the point-of-view visions of a housefly. I prayed to flit into an oncoming windshield.

By the end of the millennium (this cinematic sucker is A LONG 66 minutes!), the Robot Monster has fallen smitten to the charms of the 1-D, overacting Earth sweet thang. He babenaps her across an apocalyptic wasteland, grasping the helpless lass in his arm shags. She's hot for creature.

Not.

Eventually, the movie concluded. I located my pulse. It was already in the car with the air conditioner on.

In fairness, perhaps there had been a misprint. Maybe the preview trailer was meant to read:

Overwhelming!
Electrifying!
Barfing!

If I ever see "Robot Monster" again, it won't be in 2-D. It won't be in 3-D. It won't be in TV. It will be in Pepto-Bismol.

Movies in the Movies: 'Lucky Me'

Doris Day: "The Superstition Song" from "Lucky Me" via YouTube

Star Doris Day opens the 1954 musical "Lucky Me" by singing a cheery song across the Floridian streets of lovely Miami -- except the entire enterprise was faked on the Burbank, CA lot at Warner Bros.

I've been fortunate to visit the studio twice and stroll the much photographed outdoor set, although I didn't warble show tunes or get gunned down by James Cagney.

Maybe next time.

As Doris passes along the movie theatre's sidewalk, we see posters for "The Command," an actual Warner production released in Feb. 1954. "Lucky Me" hit screens in April, so this ploy was a smart up-to-the-minute product placement to entice sharp eyes.

I do so wish Miss Day had lingered. I'd be under that theatre marquee beside her in a scant 43 years.

We'd have lunch at the commissary, croon the obligatory duet, bungalow in Carmel, and rescue puppies.

"The Command" advertisement boasts its presentation in the months-old technological process of CinemaScope, yet the picture was produced twice for non-compatible cameras. Here's an interesting bit of trivia, found at Internet Movie Database:

Filmed in two separate versions - 3-D and CinemaScope - with different aspect ratios (1.37:1 for the 3-D, and 2.55:1 for the CinemaScope print). Only the wide screen version was ever released, though the 3-D elements still exist in Warner Bros. vault. Also the first wide screen Western of the 1950's. The flat (i.e. non 3-D) 1.37:1 version was also made available to theatres who were not yet equipped to project CinemaScope.

"Lucky Me," by the way, is reported to be the first musical in CinemaScope, although there is conflicting research.

It appears the Judy Garland version of "A Star Is Born" was the first musical to go before the CinemaScope camera. It's 10-month schedule to completion, however, delayed release until October.

"Lucky Me" lucked out.

Oh, My, This Is Movie Theatre Employee P*rn!

--And just too exhilaratingly wonderful not to share. 

As you may know, I have worked in motion picture theatres off and on since Kiddie Mike in 1962. I'm also a moviegoer and I DETEST the cretins and jerks that bottom feed their ways into decent audiences conducting themselves all polite and quiet.

The Alamo Drafthouse Cinema in Austin, TX, with the sentiments and video below, has become one of my favorite places on Earth -- and I've never been there.

Take it away, Alamo idols. Kudos!

We do not tolerate people that talk or text in the theater. In fact, before every film, we have several warnings on screen to prevent such happenings. Occasionally, someone doesn't follow the rules, and we do, in fact, kick their asses out of our theater. This video is an actual voicemail from a woman that was kicked out of one of our Austin theaters. Thanks, anonymous woman, for being awesome.

Hang on, explicit language ahead. Here's one of America's bright and classy people working that phone.



"Don't Talk - Angry Voicemail" via YouTube and Sergio Leone and the Infield Fly Rule: "The Alamo Drafthouse's 'Magnited' Campaign Against Movie Theater Morons"