Imaginary time capsule

There are certain actors I try to avoid seeing in colour. Sure it's fine for novelty's sake (I still have a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that Ginger Rogers' ostrich feather gown in Top Hat was actually very very blue), but for the duration of an entire movie it can be really distracting to me.

To be honest, I think my distaste comes from the fact that the sort of actors and actresses I think were beautiful and handsome and yummy during the thirties and forties were getting on in years by the time colour film were becoming the big thing. Not even tons of makeup could disguise drooping jowls and wrinkles from early Technicolor, boy was that an unforgiving medium. (To me, Georges Guètary looks at least ten years older in An American in Paris than he does in some his later French movies).

I've been thinking about this because yesterday I saw Fred Astaire in Technicolor, and the routine was so good it's probably the first time I've been able to forget that I'm watching Fred Astaire in Technicolor.

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(Too bad this video flattens the colours further - I think I like Lucille Bremer in this scene mostly because her bright red hair reminds me of Moira Shearer).

Trust me to love any storyline involving elegant thieves. And maybe it was due to how for the most part Ziegfield Follies (1945) is a bore up until this sequence, but that step and turn he does at 06:08 had me gasping audibly. I'd forgotten how much I absolutely adore Astaire. Later on in the movie he dances with Gene Kelly you know, in their only real teamup ever - which in turn reminded me how much I love Kelly (who sure fills out that suit in a way Astaire never could, mmmm those legs).

Again back from the film club, and after watching The Tales of Hoffmann (1951) I've come to realize a couple of things:

You know that creepy guy who was the Child Catcher in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang? That was Robert Helpmann, a celebrated Australian ballet dancer! Also he was kinda hot. And Wikipedia tells me his obituary in The Times described him as "a homosexual of the proselytizing kind" which I find all kinds of hardcore. And a little humorous.

Second, that this haunting song right here:

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- is, in fact, from The Tales of Hoffmann. I've loved it for years, and I had no idea. (And oh my God, it's the music from the Evergood coffee commercials! I had 'Barcarolle' on CD, and just now I realized it's used in those commercials!)

The Night of the Hunter (1955) proved to be one of those movies that makes me sit back and think "Jesus Christ I love films". Magic. And possibly my second favourite murder scene.

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My God. My God.

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On the way to the movie club I listened to the BBC SH adaption of 'The resident patient'. I've never noticed that bizarre little interlude with Holmes, Watson, and that passing lady of the night before. I think it's supposed to be humorous, but I can quite tell what the punchline's supposed to be. Huh.

Of the things that have succeeded in keeping me sane this last month (support from my family going without saying), I'd definitely place Cab Calloway among them.

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There's not a thing that isn't amazing about this clip.

Meanwhile, there's a lot of noise out in my hall and I hear men's voices. I've no idea what's going on but as long as they don't bother me I'll let them go about their business, which appears to be in the attic judging from the sounds.

May all your days be merry
Your seasons full of cheer
But 'til it's January
I'll just go and disappear

It's a wonder how a good night's sleep can change your outlook. I might have painted my situation a little too bleakly yesterday. I think things'll work out fine.

And as usual, I was a little too quick with sending out my wish list this year. Hey will you look at that, it's only the book I've been trying to get hold of for years and years and which is as far as I've learned impossible to get hold of in Norway. *Whistles*

You know since lo and behold tiny_cs posted a Bing video today, I think I'll add to the crooner Christmas love with Dino:

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I'll probably never live this down as a Bing fan and all, but the song 'White Christmas'? I feel it's a bit meh, really. The movie though? I love it. Even though I can't bloody stand Vera-Ellen - but Danny Kaye in wooly mittens makes it all endurable.

But I, I never felt so much life
Than tonight, huddled in the trenches
Gazing on the battlefield
Our rifles blaze away
We blaze away

In a fit of procrastination I started and finished the second part of my ongoing picspam series today (the first part I think I spent three days putting together) so here you have it:

part 1b, ten gorgeous women who should inspire the development of time travelling technology. Meaning they are dead. And this time I stuck solely to classic (and even pre-classic) Hollywood.

( Don't be too startled by the first one )

That was the female list. Next up (by the time I've forgotten how many hours I actually spend on compiling these lists): Current guys who looked deceptively good-looking when they were younger.

And now I'm going to sleep like nobody's business.

In December when the wind is blowing
And the snow is on the Bois d'Issy
Sunshine still is in the golden glasses
Marguerite drink the sun with me

You can keep your Maurice Chevaliers and your Jean-Claude Pascals and your, er... Marcel Duchamps (I'm running out of Frenchmen. I'd mention Frédéric Diefenthal, only I want to keep him), it's Georges Guétary that makes me want to pick up French again.

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*Sigh*

Each time I discover movies and artists and whatever pretty much by accident, I always think how impossibly much good music and movies there must be in the world that I'll never hear of.

When I first heard Guétary singing I thought that timbre-y stuff was so annoying. Luckily, with my Gene Kelly obsession all those years ago I watched 'An American in Paris' five billion times and it grew on me.

OMG DOMINO MASK AND TUXEDO. Pardon me while I swoon a bit.

You’re the best in town
Listen to that sound
A little bit of all you got
Can never bring you down

Well, you know how it is. You watch purple_smurf's brilliant Duggan fanvid and late at night you get a crack idea. Then a quiet afternoon comes along, you've got your bundled edition of Windows Movie Maker and suddenly this... thing... has been made.

Okay, so maybe you don't know how it is.

Because as much as I love Duggan, it's the Scarlionis that rocks my socks off.

So, Tilly's first fanvid. I'm sorry.

( Cut for those with no room for green spaghetti monsters in their hearts )

I'm certain you can tell this has nothing to do with my slight crush on young!Julian Glover. Of course not.

The funny thing is that while I was uploading this I found another Scarlioni
fanvid, so while I'm not the first, I am delighted a one-off villain from the seventies can still garner enthusiasm. And I wasn't trying to tell a tragic lovestory, I just wanted to bring attention to the spaghetti monster and smexy villain couple and Glover in a white suit.

And now I never want to hear that song again. And neither, I suspect, does the girl who lives in the room next to mine. Sorry neighbour.

First, soft violins, then sweet saxophones
Then blue clarinets croon
When it's my turn I turn into a loon
When the drum takes the melody
When the drum carries the tune

Wow, you have no idea how vivid memories this clip of Fred Astaire conjures up in my mind. Easter vacation, I've got to be around seven or eight years old, we've spent the day in the swimming pools at Raufoss, and I'm that delicious kind of exhausted where all you can do is sit snuggled up in the corner of the sofa watching movies, and Easter parade is on. I remember the car ride to Raufoss, where they were discussing Astaire on the radio, and mentioning that he was such a perfectionist dancing he would demand retake after retake, until there was blood in his shoes.

All that. I haven't thought about that in years. (And it's not an important piece of memory, it's not interesting to anyone but me, but that was the first time I ever saw Fred Astaire dancing).

There's a lot of pieces of the old musicals to be found on YouTube, yay. This is still my favourite scene from a movie musical ever:
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IT'S SO SAD. Too bad I think Swing time is such a cheesy movie. Well, maybe this scene is cheesy too. But damnit, the dancing in this scene isn't just there for the sake of dancing, it's symbolic and emotional and it just gets me here.

I also remember trying (and failing) to explain the difference of Astaire and Gene Kelly as dancers to my friends once. I think I for simplicity's sake narrowed it down to sex: Kelly uses his body to convey sensuality while Astaire's got a sort of sexless elegance. You wouldn't find Astaire playing a role like Serafin in The pirate, while Kelly wouldn't have been suited for the glamorous well-dressed bachelors Astaire used to play. And then there's the exceptions...

And then the two meet. Haha, I used to sing this with my sister Tiny. To this day get this urge to include the words "Olive oil!" into my daily conversation.

The tragic thing is of course that the Nicholas Brothers might have been just as big if it hadn't been for the fact that Hollywood had such racism issues.

This has officially become a pimping post for the Astaire and Kelly. Why not also enjoy:
Astaire - I left my hat in Haiti
Kelly and Frank Sinatra - I begged her
Astaire and Cyd Charisse - the hot jazz part of the Girl Hunt Ballet
Kelly and Cyd Charisse - the seduction part of the Broadway Ballet

I want a love who'll never stray
When he sees other girls, he looks away
And if he never kisses me, well that's alright
'Cos we can just cuddle all night

I went out with the intention of buying some litter for the cage and get rid of the DVD gift card I got for Christmas, and voila: Mission accomplished.

The handy thing was, the Norwegian Free Record Shops have been purchased by Gamestop, so they're just about throwing their DVDs after you. I got five:

- Do Not Adjust Your Set. I've had my eyes on this one for about a year now (bonus young!Michael Palin, wheee).
- The Kid. Can you believe I've never seen The Kid? Thank God for the Chaplin Collection, I'm a sucker for DVD extras (though they aren't always wired right on the menus).
- One Night at the Roxbury, possibly the only nineties comedy of *that* variety I find at all funny (although the relationship I have with my ex might be a bit strained, it's good to have someone you can shout "EMILIOOOO!" at who won't press charges).
- Road to Utopia, score! It's a battered, cheap copy, but I finally got my hands on it. I'll watch this tomorrow, oh yes.
- And finally, the Norwegian 1967 movie STOMPA til sjøs ("STOMPA at sea"). Purchasing this was, even by my standards, a bit pathetic, because I really can't stand the STOMPA movies (they're based on Anthony Buckeridge's Jennings books, only with different names, stories, locations and the age they're set in), I only purchased it because Rolf Just Nilsen is in it (and he sings the cheesy and wonderfully cute ballad Morsevisen). I was extremely close to getting Operasjon Løvsprett, which is a wonderful comedy (wherein Nilsen delivers what I deem to be the second greatest pick-up line in history), but I decided for something he sings in instead.

I can't believe how ignored Rolf Just Nilsen's work is these days. He used to be big (before I was born, in all fairness. Am I the only one who feels sad when I think about certain people and the fact that they died before I was born? That I haven't coexist with these brilliant persons for a single second of my life?)

If I ever got my hands on a time machine, I'd travel back to the sixties and (after stocking up on migraine tablets and attending a couple of Beatles and Kinks concerts), I would somehow become Nilsen's manager, only to tell him, "Rolf baby, I know you make quite a pretty penny on your comedy records and voice acting, but would it kill you to make a record with serious material?" Somehow most of the recordings of him singing "serious" songs were snippets for TV. I could kill for a decent soundfile of his rendition of Mister Cellophane.

I'll try to explain what a brilliant all-round entertainer was once I can figure out how to do him justice.