1964 Oscar Viewing Project

If you've been following me on social media, you'll know that I have been working diligently on the 1964 screenings, and that this was the next year in my Oscar Viewing Project.  This is amazingly the 33rd Oscar Viewing Project, which means we are one-third done with the project (see links to the other 32 below).  As a reminder, for the Oscars, we see all of the nominees in all of the narrative, feature-length film categories, which in this year had many still split between Color and Black & White (something that happened from the late 1940's to the mid-1960's).  I have seen every single one of the below categories, and will be picking (in a vacuum) my favorites of the bunch.  Finding domestic box office records pre-1980 is surprisingly challenging, but the general consensus on the Top 10 highest-grossing domestic films of 1964 are:

1. My Fair Lady

2. Goldfinger

3. Mary Poppins

4. The Carpetbaggers

---From Russia with Love*

5. A Fistful of Dollars

6. Father Goose

7. A Shot in the Dark

8. A Hard Day's Night

9. The Night of the Iguana

10. What a Way to Go!

* - From Russia with Love was released in the UK in 1963, and is generally considered to be a 1963 film which is what we will consider it for the My Ballot, but it was first released in 1964 in the US, and would be in 5th place if it was considered a 1964 film.

With the exception of The Carpetbaggers (a now-forgotten 1960's bestselling novel & artifact of the sexual revolution that only could've been a film hit in the mid-to-late 1960's, which sounds intriguing in a smutty sort of way but I don't know if I'll get around to before the My Ballot) I've actually seen all of these movies already, including several that didn't get nominated for the Academy Awards.  In the weeks ahead, I'll be seeing a lot of 1964 films (follow along here for my weekly screenings), though, as I try to get a complete picture of the cinematic landscape outside of the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium.

But now, it's time to go back to a time of Washington passing the Civil Rights Act, Muhammad Ali becoming the heavyweight champion of the world, and a car they're calling the "Ford Mustang" taking center stage at the World's Fair.  And of course, let's remember the movies...

Note: 7 Faces of Dr. Lao received a non-competitive Makeup statue in 1964, before the category was established.  I did see the film (as you'll see below), but wanted to make a note of that.  We'll do Makeup as a My Ballot category with five standard nominations, so you'll be able to see if I picked it then, but I will note for posterity that the makeup is very good (if, admittedly, a bit racist, which I'll talk about with its Visual Effects nomination).

Picture

1. Dr. Strangelove

2. My Fair Lady

3. Mary Poppins

4. Becket

5. Zorba the Greek

The Lowdown: One of those lists that proves the insanity of the Oscars-five films that only have the year they were made in common (even the musicals are shockingly different).  I am picking the sharp Kubrick-led black comedy, perhaps the quintessential black comedy, in a slight bid over My Fair Lady.  As you're going to find in this list, my childhood love of Eliza & Professor Higgins translated into adulthood, and I enjoyed the movie far more than most on Letterboxd & Film Twitter.  Really, though, any of the Top 4 (I wasn't really into Zorba) would be a fine addition to the Best Picture pantheon.

Director

1. Stanley Kubrick (Dr. Strangelove)

2. George Cukor (My Fair Lady)

3. Robert Stevenson (Mary Poppins)

4. Peter Glenville (Becket)

5. Michael Cacoyannis (Zorba the Greek)

The Lowdown: In one of the few years Oscar did this (and part of the reason I picked this year as there was so few films to catch up on), the Best Picture & Director lineups were exactly the same...and I'm going with the same order.  I think to at least some degree I'd have Mary Poppins & Becket closer to the #2 slot here than I would otherwise (I think that it's bizarre that a director so good with intimate films like The Philadelphia Story and The Women like George Cukor would win his sole directing Oscar for a gigantic musical...but that's Hollywood, I guess).  But yeah-Kubrick's going to win this, and I'm increasingly wondering if the "Kubrick gets the most OVP Directing statues" train is inevitable at this point.

Actor

1. Peter Sellers (Dr. Strangelove)

2. Peter O'Toole (Becket)

3. Richard Burton (Becket)

4. Rex Harrison (My Fair Lady)

5. Anthony Quinn (Zorba the Greek)

The Lowdown: This is an underrated race for the best this category has ever been, certainly one of the most impressive lineups-there is not just no bad performances in this list, there's no even "merely good" nominee in this list.  Instead, we have four great performances against a titanic one.  O'Toole and Burton, two of the most famous Oscar bridesmaids, will not be curing that here (O'Toole is now 0 for 3 for his eight nominations, Burton this is his first miss to date), as there's just no beating Peter Sellers taking on three very divergent roles in the absurdist Dr. Strangelove.

Actress

1. Julie Andrews (Mary Poppins)

2. Kim Stanley (Seance on a Wet Afternoon)

3. Sophia Loren (Marriage Italian Style)

4. Anne Bancroft (The Pumpkin Eater)

5. Debbie Reynolds (The Unsinkable Molly Brown)

The Lowdown: We will get into the Audrey Hepburn of it all with the My Ballot, as that's focusing on the year at large and this is just about Oscar's list (and I need to respect that).  But without Audrey, it's a competition between two totally different performances from Julie Andrews & Kim Stanley (I also quite like Sophia Loren this year, but not enough to threaten the two best).  I actually rewatched Mary Poppins specifically to see if it held up, and was beyond impressed with the way that she finds a gentle, but never cloying way to play the part.  It's kind of a miracle, as is her singing voice (as is Marni Nixon's...), and so it's an easy call.  Side note, but it's a damned shame this is the only performance Debbie Reynolds ever got an Oscar nomination for given she's a fine actress and this performance is so discardable.

Supporting Actor

1. Stanley Holloway (My Fair Lady)

2. Lee Tracy (The Best Man)

3. John Gielgud (Becket)

4. Edmond O'Brien (Seven Days in May)

5. Peter Ustinov (Topkapi)

The Lowdown: Honestly one of the weakest lineups in an otherwise stellar year for the Academy.  My love of My Fair Lady and its plentiful soundtrack extends to Holloway, who I think nails his "I'm Getting Married in the Morning" number, and while he is a bit over-the-top in other scenes, it is in a delightful way fitting of his picture.  I'm therefore going to give him the statue over stellar-if-not-the-best work from Tracy & Gielgud on the sidelines.

Supporting Actress

1. Agnes Moorehead (Hush...Hush Sweet Charlotte)

2. Grayson Hall (The Night of the Iguana)

3. Gladys Cooper (My Fair Lady)

4. Lila Kedrova (Zorba the Greek)

5. Edith Evans (The Chalk Garden)

The Lowdown: Similar to Supporting Actor, this isn't what I'd call the best nomination list.  My My Fair Lady love extends far, but not far enough to include Cooper, who is fine but hardly necessary (and in shockingly little of this movie-I'm surprised they noticed her).  You have to indulge some over-the-top work from the Top 2, but you still get some winning performers, and occasionally insight into their characters that the 1960's otherwise might not have allowed.  I'll go with Moorehead, I think a bigger presence in her picture.  Also, even in a weak lineup, isn't it a joy to see ten character actors nominated in the supporting categories instead of the obsessive "movie star slumming" we see today.

Foreign Language Film

1. Woman in the Dunes (Japan)

2. The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (France)

3. Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow (Italy)

4. Raven's End (Sweden)

5. Sallah (Israel)

The Lowdown: Two classics in this lineup, both of which dominated the Oscars...a year later (Oscar rules were weird in the 1960's & 70's, and we'll get into how we'll handle that when we hit the My Ballot in the next few weeks).  A shocking amount of these movies have weirdly similar plots (doomed, sometimes forced romances, and whether to stay in them), which makes them somewaht easier to compare, and for me Woman in the Dunes, one of the scariest films I've ever seen, is more adept than the flawless color perfection of The Umbrellas of Cherbourg or the surprisingly strong anthology film Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow, so I'm going with that in a battle of classics.

Adapted Screenplay

1. Dr. Strangelove

2. Mary Poppins

3. Becket

4. My Fair Lady

5. Zorba the Greek

The Lowdown: Probably the only time in Oscar history where the Picture/Director/Adapted Screenplay lineups are all exactly the same films (and it's worth noting-had Dick van Dyke gotten in for Mary Poppins instead of one of the Becket boys, that'd have been the same for Best Actor, also all Best Pictures).  This doesn't quite match those lineups even if they once again have the same victor-Dr. Strangelove is a genius script, but its biggest competition ends up being Mary Poppins, which is a challenging adaptation (how do you not make Mary more conventional?), but a fine one, and it fights a lot of impulses other live-action Disney films of the 1960's would indulge.

Original Screenplay

1. A Hard Day's Night

2. One Potato, Two Potato

3. Father Goose

4. The Organizer

5. That Man from Rio

The Lowdown: Relatively weak lineup here, with the latter two having active plotholes that make these nominations (their only ones in 1964) feel all the odder.  It reads in some ways as weird to give this statue to A Hard Day's Night, a movie that frequently evokes being made just as the Beatles are randomly being screened, it's so spontaneous.  But that's not really the case-it just feels that way due to Alun Owen's fizzy script.  I therefore pick it over the showier (and more writerly One Potato, Two Potato), a racial drama that has largely been forgotten at this point but is worth your time if you've never heard of it.

Sound

1. My Fair Lady

2. Mary Poppins

3. Becket

4. The Unsinkable Molly Brown

5. Father Goose

The Lowdown: When it comes to Oscar, you have to remember that he likes what he likes, and in the Mixing category, even in the 1960's, what he liked was musicals which is why 60% of this category falls into that category.  For me, Molly Brown isn't worthy to be in the same sentence as the other two...so we won't do that.  Mary Poppins has the added advantage of incorporating animation into its sound sequences, and so if this was a contest between the two for editing, I'd be a bit more inclined to spread the wealth, but given it's solely Mixing (and we had to make sure that Marni Nixon felt organic to the story), I'm going to go with Eliza & her crew.

Sound Editing

1. Goldfinger

2. The Lively Set

The Lowdown: 1964 was only the second year that Oscar was distinguishing between Mixing and Editing (it's why 1963 will be the first year we do these separate categories for the My Ballot awards), but even then, it was very clear that he had his preferences, picking both the action-adventures and the car racing scenes (if only there was a submarine, this would truly feel in Oscar's wheelhouse).  For me, it's not just that Goldfinger is a much better picture (The Lively Set, for those who haven't heard of it, is a snore), but also it has considerably better special sound effects, as The Lively Set's race cars (experimental though they may be) do not compare to the explosions on display with 007.

Score

1. The Pink Panther

2. Mary Poppins

3. Hush...Hush Sweet Charlotte

4. Becket

5. The Fall of the Roman Empire

The Lowdown: Truly sensational work from Henry Mancini (give or take "Moon River," the best thing he's ever done), The Pink Panther comes in with its sole nomination and totally sells it.  With all due respect to the luxurious Charlotte, and the breathtaking high-flying antics of Mary Poppins, there's really no other option but to pick one of the most memorable movie tunes of all time (I had to check, and Oscar went with my second place, which is an understandable if not acceptable path...this should've been Mancini's). 

Scoring

1. My Fair Lady

2. A Hard Day's Night

3. Mary Poppins

4. Robin and the 7 Hoods

5. The Unsinkable Molly Brown

The Lowdown: Given the musical was on life support by 1964, it is bonkers how good the Top 3 is here (I've got a few more to see, but it'll take a tsunami to best one of these for my My Ballot).  The other two basically don't exist for me, and it's three musicals, with me weirdly picking the one that wasn't original, mostly because it does a superb way of expanding beyond the confines of a Broadway stage to really feel like it's taking up space...with truly loverly incorporation of these classic tunes.  But A Hard Day's Night or Mary Poppins would've been worthy had Oscar picked them (forgive the weird photo collage on this one...I forgot to include A Hard Day's Night and I'd already deleted my individual photos so didn't want to have to recreate this from scratch).

Original Song

1. "Chim Chim Cheree" (Mary Poppins)

2. "My Kind of Town" (Robin and the 7 Hoods)

3. "Hush, Hush Sweet Charlotte" (Hush...Hush Sweet Charlotte)

4. "Where Love Has Gone" (Where Love Has Gone)

5. "Dear Heart" (Dear Heart)

The Lowdown: One of those categories where Oscar only chose good nominees...but my list is going to look much different because, quite frankly, 1964's Original Song options are absurd (thank the lord My Fair Lady wasn't an original).  For the win it's a hard bet between the top 4, with sentiment and a bit of magic giving Mary Poppins the win over Frank Sinatra and two lush ballads, in an era where those sorts of songs still became standards.  Really, though, any of the Top 4 is better than you'd guess and makes a strong choice for the win.

Art Direction (B&W)

1. Hush...Hush Sweet Charlotte

2. The Night of the Iguana

3. Zorba the Greek

4. The Americanization of Emily

5. Seven Days in May

The Lowdown: I mean, I'm a sucker for a gigantic swamp-ravaged mansion, particularly when you've got it surrounded by Olivia de Havilland & Bette Davis in a horror film.  The detailing in Hush...Hush Sweet Charlotte and the way that the ambience becomes almost part of the story (it certainly helps to aid the story) gives it the edge over The Night of the Iguana and Zorba the Greek, both of which have surprisingly more outdoor scenes (something that at this era usually precluded nominations here) than you'd expect.

Art Direction (Color)

1. My Fair Lady

2. Becket

3. What a Way to Go!

4. Mary Poppins

5. The Unsinkable Molly Brown

The Lowdown: Much more into this lineup, and honestly having a hard time between the Top 2 (all of them are good though).  I think I'm picking My Fair Lady because there's more personality in the set pieces (particularly the streets of London, which are gorgeous studio shot situations, as well as Professor Higgins' house), though I am in awe of what they're doing in the gigantic expansions of Becket.  I also love the ingenuity of What a Way to Go!, as we are so informed on the men in this picture through the sets themselves.

Cinematography (B&W)

1. Zorba the Greek

2. The Night of the Iguana

3. The Americanization of Emily

4. Hush...Hush Sweet Charlotte

5. Fate is the Hunter

The Lowdown: With the exception of Fate is the Hunter (which if you have been around this blog a long time you might remember I reviewed for our Saturdays with the Stars tribute to Nancy Kwan six years ago), this is a really strong list (I know I'm repeating myself in praising 1964's Academy Awards, but it's very true for both Cinematography lineups-Oscar outdid himself).  I like the sweaty heat of The Night of the Iguana, the sophistication of The Americanization of Emily, and the gothic horror of Hush...Hush Sweet Charlotte's involved lensing, but you can't compete with Anthony Quinn's dancing in Zorba the Greek.  It is the most indelible image of his long career for a reason-the playful way the team plays with long & close shots...it's something else.

Cinematography (Color)

1. Cheyenne Autumn

2. My Fair Lady

3. Becket

4. Mary Poppins

5. The Unsinkable Molly Brown

The Lowdown: All five of these are 4-star or higher achievements-this is one of the best lineups of Color Cinematography Oscar pulled together.  In terms of the actual win, My Fair Lady, Becket, & Cheyenne Autumn, all three very different takes on cinematography (one showing the majesty of a studio lot, the next lots of interior location shoots, and the next the grandeur of Monument Valley).  I have to pick Cheyenne Autumn if forced to choose.  It's large-scale, epic John Ford grandeur (when that was about to stop being a thing) at its very best, a beautiful tribute to a dying film genre, with every scene basically a painting. 

Costume Design (B&W)

1. The Night of the Iguana

2. The Visit

3. A House is Not a Home

4. Kisses for My President

5. Hush...Hush Sweet Charlotte

The Lowdown: This category features Kisses for My President, maybe in the Top 10 most disagreeable films I've seen for this project (at least pre-1967)...which still has better costumes than some.  Honestly, this field is a list of relatively decent contenders, but not necessarily any truly outstanding ones.  I think it's a competition between Night of the Iguana, a sexy batch of heat-sweltered looks from Ava Gardner, Richard Burton, & Sue Lyon, and then a gorgeous array of looks from Ingrid Bergman in The Visit.  I think I'll go with Gardner & Burton looks lusty over Bergman's fanciful wealth, but it's a close contest.

Costume Design (Color)

1. My Fair Lady

2. What a Way to Go!

3. Mary Poppins

4. Becket

5. The Unsinkable Molly Brown

The Lowdown: On the flip side, you have the Color categories, where literally all of these are outstanding, and at least a few I expect to make it to my My Ballot when all is said and done.  The best look, and probably what's getting it the win, is that Royal Ascot iconography of Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady (all the looks are good...but that scene is film history), which is a shame as the pink deliciousness of What a Way to Go! deserves a win just as much.

Film Editing

1. Becket

2. Mary Poppins

3. My Fair Lady

4. Hush...Hush Sweet Charlotte

5. Father Goose

The Lowdown: Potentially hot take, but when it comes to the three Best Picture nominees cited here (all of which, at this point, you should understand my love of to the point you can cut me some slack for not being a full-on stan), none of them seem like you could call them "film editing" standouts.  I think that Becket wins here in part because it has a stronger and better build in its expected tension than either Mary Poppins or especially My Fair Lady, and so I'm giving it the title, but in a year where Oscar was a monolith, I kind of wish they'd have gone with some different options here (you'll see a lot of different titles when I tackle this for the My Ballot).  Also, because this write-up made me look like I didn't like Father Goose, I want to be very clear for the record that I did (it's just not in the same league as some of these other movies...but I have deeply fond memories of watching it with my little brother and our beloved aunt-and-uncle when we were kids in their apartment in Wyoming).

Special Visual Effects

1. Mary Poppins

2. 7 Faces of Dr. Lao

The Lowdown: Both of these are intriguing options, but only one of them is legendary.  The way that Mary Poppins incorporates animation into the live-action scenes is not new (Disney had been doing this as far back as Song of the South), but it'd never been so seamless.  It felt like Andrews & van Dyke (and those two kids) had been popped into this world in a way that was sparkly but also believable.  7 Faces of Dr. Lao is really more of an achievement in makeup effects if we're being totally honest (and those are a bit racist given one of Tony Randall's characters is in yellowface), but some of the claymation figures, particularly the Medusa tentacles, are impressively ahead of their time.

Past Oscar Viewing Projects: 1931-32, 1948, 1957, 1972, 1981, 1999, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023, 2024, 2025

OVP: Camille (1937)

Film: Camille (1937)

Stars: Greta Garbo, Robert Taylor, Lionel Barrymore, Elizabeth Allan, Jessie Ralph, Henry Daniell

Director: George Cukor

Oscar History: 1 nomination (Best Actress-Greta Garbo)

Snap Judgment Ranking: 3/5 stars

Today is my little brother's birthday, and as we are in a pandemic (and as I am 27 days away from being outside of my vaccine window-get your shot as soon as you can, wait your time frame, & remember that Covid is still deadly even if the weather is nicer so don't lose the race minutes before the finish line) I cannot spend it with him.  But he is a devoted reader of this blog, and one of my favorite people to talk about movies with, and so we will be celebrating him (long distance) today with his favorite Oscar category.  He has seen most of the Best Actress nominees, and as a result I thought it would be fun for us to do two Best Actress reviews to close out the week (that I recently saw), and since it's a special occasion, we're going to start with arguably the most famous Best Actress-nominated performance I had never seen, Greta Garbo's beautiful, tragic Camille.

(Spoilers Ahead) Based on the novel by Alexander Dumas fils (which would inspire not only countless movies but also the famed opera La traviata), the film is about Marguerite Gautier (Garbo), a courtesan who has no money to her name, and instead gets by through benefactors, many of whom dote on her beauty.  In the opening scenes she mistakes Armand Duval (Taylor) for the Baron de Varville (Daniell).  The Baron is wealthy, while Armand is of a good family (but of little money), and while the Baron makes more sense for her, she falls passionately in love with Armand.  The film continually milks this love triangle for all it's worth, with the Baron clearly the loser but still batting because he's bring much-needed cash to the table.  The film has a ticking clock as Marguerite's lavish lifestyle is exacerbating her consumption, and she will surely die if she doesn't change her ways...which she does in the end, in the arms of Armand as they realize they will always love each other.

The film doesn't have a lot going for it.  Taylor & Garbo are both sizzling (and weirdly gorgeous-one of the most attractive screen pairings in film history), but the plot isn't there.  The film constantly just keeps barking between the three legs of the love triangle, but the Baron is obviously meant to be such a villain (and Taylor so dashing) that it's not a fair fight in the world of the cinema. It's clear that Garbo must die, as she's too beautiful to grow old & too tragic to get a happy ending.  But as a result, the movie is forever repetitive.

However, you're not going to care.  This is really stylized acting, but the movie is eminently watchable (it is a guilty pleasure that clicked for me).  It's a grand picture, one with a lot of swoonworthy kisses & embraces, and you'll fall into it like thick molasses.  Did Garbo deserve an Oscar for the performance?  Probably not...there are better performances that came out in 1937 we could cling to.  But this isn't necessarily an "Oscar first" kind of performance...it's more a "swing for the rafters, land among the stars" piece of work, and in that way it's more than successful.  Oscars may be about honoring the best movies of the year, but Garbo's legendary work here has its eyes on something far more spectacular: cinematic immortality.  As perhaps the defining performance of one of the screen's most lasting stars, it gets that.

OVP: Let's Make Love! (1960)

Film: Let's Make Love! (1960)
Stars: Marilyn Monroe, Yves Montand, Tony Randall, Frankie Vaughan (as well as some fun cameos I'll reference in the review)
Director: George Cukor
Oscar History: 1 nomination (Best Scoring)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 2/5 stars

Each month, as part of our 2020 Saturdays with the Stars series, we highlight a different actress known as an iconic "film sex symbol."  This month, our focus is on Marilyn Monroe-click here to learn more about Ms. Monroe (and why I picked her), and click here for other Saturdays with the Stars articles.

For our final two weeks with Marilyn Monroe, we're going to focus on the very tail end of the actress's career.  Last week we talked about one of the biggest triumphs of Monroe's career, Bus Stop, which brought her critical hosannas (serious ones) for the first time in her career, and was a huge box office hit for Fox.  This was followed with two legendarily difficult shoots for Marilyn, the first being the now-maligned The Prince and the Showgirl (with Laurence Olivier) and then the smash-hit classic Some Like It Hot, where she feuded relentlessly with costar Tony Curtis & director Billy Wilder.  Despite Some Like It Hot's success (it won Monroe her only competitive Golden Globe), she took another year off before making her next movie, today's film Let's Make Love!.  The film was a big deal not only for Monroe, but her costar Yves Montand, who was making his English-language debut after a decade of starring roles in European cinema, and becoming the toast of the New York theater scene with his one-man show.

(Spoilers Ahead) In a weirdly similar opening to The Seven Year Itch, we go through the family tree of Jean-Marc Clement (Montand), a billionaire whose ancestors all had a knack for making money and were frequently distracted by "balloons" (the script's entendre, not mine).  He is considered a spoiled playboy, and a local theater production about famous figures of the early 1960's is skewering him.  He goes down to show he's "in on the joke" as a bit of publicity, but there is mistaken for an actor pretending to be Jean-Marc Clement, and goes along with the casting when he falls for Amanda (Monroe), a beautiful actress who leads the production.  Jean-Marc gets to see a woman actually fall for him, and not his money, as she just assumes he's an out-of-work actor.  However, Amanda is dating the show's leading man, Tony (Vaughan), so Jean-Marc, along with his assistants (including Tony Randall playing the same role Tony Randall always played in these types of films-the best friend), recruit the help of legendary entertainers in hopes of making the no-talent Jean-Marc a rival for Amanda's affections.

You can imagine how that turns out (happy ending!), but arguably the best part of Let's Make Love! is the scenes with the legendary performers.  Milton Berle, Bing Crosby, and Gene Kelly all play themselves, recruited to make the hapless Jean-Marc seem like a funny song-and-dance-man, with amusing results (Berle basically steals the movie during his segment).  And I will admit I actually liked the score for the film, even though it's not as memorable as it might have been.  The Oscar nomination may have been something of a gimme given the film's high profile (we were entering a period where musicals struggled to gain traction with audiences), but Vaughan can sing, and he-and-Monroe have a gay sort of chemistry that is fun-to-watch.

This is not true for Monroe & Montand.  While Montand generally was a popular figure in the era, his comedy bits don't age well and he's stiff in a lead role that would have been a better fit for someone like Cary Grant or Rock Hudson.  Montand isn't helped by a script that has no punch.  The joke bits aren't that funny (Berle & his segment are the only ones that really work), and while Monroe is enjoyable in her part (George Cukor would never totally fail his leading actress), the script is just sort of there for us to ogle her.  One of the striking things between the sex symbols of the 1930's/40's and the 1950's is that while Jean Harlow and Rita Hayworth were given different types of roles to excel in, Monroe always played some version of this Amanda.  When it was in Some Like It Hot, with great writing and costars like Jack Lemmon, it's glorious.  Let's Make Love!, though, is pretty disposable and wouldn't be thought of at all today except it was Marilyn's penultimate film.

The movie had no good memories for any involved.  Monroe hated the part, considering it her worst role, and not soon after watched her marriage to Arthur Miller dissolved (she had had a very public affair on-set with Montand, who was married to Monroe's friend Simone Signoret at the time).  The film was moderately successful, but considered a disappointment given Monroe's star power and how gossip columns had been swirling about her relationship with Montand.  After three rough productions, Monroe was still famous and bankable enough to demand headlines, but producers were worried about hiring her for anything.  She lost out at the time on the role of Holly Golightly in Breakfast at Tiffany's, a part that was written specifically for her by Truman Capote, and which would win Audrey Hepburn an honor Monroe never received: an Oscar nomination for Best Actress. Instead, Monroe would make a different film, one that would sadly be her last, and one that we'll discuss next week.

OVP: Les Girls (1957)

Film: Les Girls (1957)
Stars: Gene Kelly, Kay Kendall, Mitzi Gaynor, Taina Elg
Director: George Cukor
Oscar History: 3 nominations/1 win (Best Costume Design*, Art Direction, Sound Mixing)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 4/5 stars

Each month, as part of our 2019 Saturdays with the Stars series, we highlight a different actress of Hollywood's Golden Age.  This month, our focus is on Mitzi Gaynor-click here to learn more about Ms. Gaynor (and why I picked her), and click here for other Saturdays with the Stars articles.

We pick up with Mitzi Gaynor just over a week after her last film.  We've had some movies from the same year for a star in this series, but I don't think we ever had two films so close together as The Joker is Wild and Les Girls, which is our picture this week.  As a result, we don't have a lot to update you on with where Gaynor was in her career, though you have to give her credit for going from the diva behavior of Frank Sinatra to the psychotic perfectionism of Gene Kelly.  But the reason I picked this film for our penultimate Gaynor film is that it comes from MGM.  The bulk of Gaynor's career was alternating between Fox and Paramount, and while she made musicals for both studios, MGM is really the lot where the singers & hoofers went.  However, in the 1950's they were more obsessed with our March star Cyd Charisse than any other actresses, and quite frankly were about to be done with big-scale musicals.  Les Girls wasn't the last significant musical to come out of MGM (that would be Bells are Ringing three years later), but it was Gene Kelly's final musical for the studio.  So I wanted to see, with the clock ticking, if they had the right part for Gaynor, and what she'd look like in a musical the way only MGM could make them.

(Spoilers Ahead) Les Girls takes part in three acts, focusing on three different dancers in the film, all representing different countries: the American Joy (Gaynor), the British Sybil (Kendall), and the French Angele (Elg, who is really Finnish but her character is French).  Angele is suing Sybil for libel in court (the film seems to have weirdly been inspired by Rashomon in the way it delivers its story), stating that Sybil lied in her book about the three women.  We then flash back to first Sybil, then Angele, and finally the man that came between them their dancing costar-director Barry (Kelly) taking the stand to straighten things out.  The film ends with us realizing that it was Joy that Barry was in love with the whole time (Hollywood law dictates that Kelly go after the biggest name in the cast, after all), and all three women end up happily ever after...with Joy keeping an eye on her new husband, whom she suspects maybe had a little bit of romancing with the other two women to keep their stories straight.

The movie is weird for an MGM musical because it's the plot that actually dominates the tale, rather than the musical numbers.  There are a few lovely song-and-dance scenes (I loved the saucy "Ladies-in-Waiting" with the peekaboo costume design, and the ballet duet between Gaynor & Kelly was sublime), but it's actually the plot and the witty banter that keeps you there.  It's the rare movie where generally pretty much everyone upstages Gene Kelly, who is mostly just there to pitch woo and be a dance partner, as it's the women that steal the entire film.  Gaynor is great here-she's relegated with the least flamboyant character, but she gets a lot of snappy one-liners that generally made me cackle.  Elg and Kendall both get the better parts, though, and they tied at the Golden Globes (can you imagine that happening today-two actors from the same film tying for an award?!?) for Best Actress.  If I had to pick a favorite it'd probably be Kendall, who is delectable on the stand throwing bon mots at the judge; leave it to George Cukor to direct a musical with Gene Kelly and still make it all about his actresses.  While Elg is still alive and worked for decades on the stage (she was in the original cast of Nine on Broadway), Kendall (who was once married to Rex Harrison) died tragically young at the age of 32 from leukemia just two years after the release of Les Girls.

The film won three Academy Award nominations, each deserving but to different degrees.  Like I said above, the musical numbers are fine, if only 1-2 are really memorable, so I feel like the Sound citation is more because there was a lack of musicals in 1957 to throw this one toward.  The Art Direction and Costumes are sublime, though.  Orry-Kelly is clearly in heaven getting to parade the three beautiful leading actresses in an array of matching, carefully-constructed outfits, and the set design, particularly the girl's compact but believable apartment, is brimming with detail.  This movie competed with Funny Face in both those categories, so the OVP for this field is going to be hell, but I was utterly charmed by Les Girls and don't really understand why this isn't a more celebrated MGM musical.  Next week we will conclude our look at Mitzi Gaynor, and our first season of "Saturdays with the Stars" with a different film that won a trio of Oscar nominations & a trophy...on one enchanted evening.

Dinner at Eight (1933)

Film: Dinner at Eight (1933)
Stars: Marie Dressler, Lionel Barrymore, Billie Burke, Madge Evans, Wallace Beery, Jean Harlow, John Barrymore
Director: George Cukor
Oscar History: No nominations
Snap Judgment Ranking: 5/5 stars

In a quest to prepare for 31 Days of Oscar, I have been trying to quickly and efficiently view as many movies from my DVR as is physically possible (every year this is an uphill battle, every year one that I lose).  As a result, you'll be seeing a lot of obscure Oscar nominees on this blog in the coming weeks as I progress through the Oscar Viewing Project & 31 Days in a fight to see what day I actually run out of space.  Weirdly, though the first film that I decided to watch lounging on my DVR wasn't an Oscar nominee, but simply a movie that I have long wanted to see, and in a signficant moment for my cinematic viewing career, the first time I have ever seen a Jean Harlow picture.

(Spoilers Ahead) Dinner at Eight is the sort of movie that doesn't get made today, and quite frankly doesn't really have an obvious evolutionary successor in movies today either.  An all-star film, it is littered with fine theatrical performers (the Barrymores, Dressler, Burke), and is the sort of drama that plays largely like a comedy because everyone is so eloquent.  Centered around a dinner party that Millicent Jordan (Burke) is throwing for a noble couple that are visiting from England, we see all of her guests, as well as her ailing husband Oliver (Lionel Barrymore), encounter struggles during the height of the depression.  It's a very serious film when taken on the surface, but these actors are so eloquent and frequently witty (particularly Dressler & Harlow) that there's enough comic relief so you'll be forgiven into thinking that it's a dramedy of sorts.

Honestly-it's a very well-done movie, one that I'm surprised didn't get more Oscar love (in an era where supporting performances were crowned it's impossible to think that some of these people wouldn't have been nominees), particularly considering it's nearly the equal of Grand Hotel the previous year (it's been a few years, but I think I favor the Best Picture winner just slightly over this one).  The film is less a cohesive plot and more a series of acting duets between the principle players, as we learn more about them.  It's very well-written, and you leave without a proper villain (Wallace Beery comes the closest as a gruff businessman, but even he gives an understanding of wanting to stick it to people who simply didn't want his success because of where he grew up), but instead a sharp understanding of these characters.  It's surprisingly thorough-no one goes into cartoon-mode, and there's more than room for such a fare (I suspect on the stage that actors would lean a bit more heavily into their stereotypes).

Look at the way that Harlow finds a courage in her trophy wife as the film progresses, essentially blackmailing her husband into a better life for both of them.  Dressler, who can be truly hammy, shows her cards early and plays her Carlotta as a woman who is scared not only of being broke, but perhaps more so of being a joke, someone who was taken seriously and is now on the outskirts of her life.  Perhaps best of all is John Barrymore, who courageously plays an actor who is starting to be washed-up and perhaps being outdone by those around him who were more talented than handsome.  It's a small part (in one of several ironies in the film, he's an actor complaining about how small his part in a play is), and one that borrows quite a bit from reality (Barrymore's struggles with booze, age, and his then faltering matinee idol status feels a bit reality-inspiring-art), but it's terrific work.  His final scenes are harrowing, as we realize that he can't bounce back to who he once was, and to paraphrase The Hours, "he has to die so the others can appreciate life more."  The film itself is a jewel, and while it's hard to adjust to melodrama when you're not used to it, once you do you find that this film's "forgotten classic" status is more than earned.

OVP: Edward, My Son (1949)

Film: Edward, My Son (1949)
Stars: Spencer Tracy, Deborah Kerr, Ian Hunter, Mervyn Johns, Leueen MacGrath
Director: George Cukor
Oscar History: 1 nomination (Best Actress-Deborah Kerr)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 2/5 stars

I have never quite gotten the Academy's fascination with one Spencer Bonaventure Tracy (yes, that is somehow his middle name-who would have thought with such boring first and surnames that his parents would go all sorts of obscure Catholic saint on his middle)?  Tracy's films are of course in the Academy's wheelhouse (stoic dramas and sappy issue pictures), but there are just SO many of them and I am stunned the public was so into him so consistently for decades on end considering he's a relatively mundane presence and his only really great attribute is that he gives a fine soliloquy (he's one of those actors who seemed perfect for the stage, but the cinema just feels less matinee when he's on it).  Either way, here we have yet another of Tracy's many, many Oscar-nominated films, though at least it isn't Tracy amassing to his seismic nominations count and instead his British costar Deborah Kerr added to her impressive one.

(Spoilers Ahead) Based on the successful play by Donald Ogden Stewart, the movie is the story of Arnold Boult and his wife Evelyn, who have recently had a child and are living in a relatively modest existence, but are happy and love each other.  As the film progresses, Arnold's ventures in business become more corrupt but insanely successful, but as a result his child is spoiled and his wife becomes increasingly unhappy, to the point where they both start up affairs (though in Evelyn's case it's more emotional than physical).  The film goes on with Evelyn eventually going to the bottle and dying (and having an hilarious little hair-and-makeup moment where she suddenly ages 900 years from indulging in the bottle-the producers kind of went bombastic), and with Edward eventually dying as well after performing a stunt without permission and then killing his crew in the Air Force, Arnold is forced to finally have a reckoning with his life.

The film is striking in very few ways, but one of the ways it is how it ends, actually.  The film is drab and dull, and the performances are overcooked, but the ending is actually quite interesting, and in some ways resembles the way Rod Sterling would have ended the film.  When Arnold discovers that his son had a child out of wedlock, he tries initially to spoil the child and find it and make it a replacement to Edward.  However, a friend of his, who knows where the child is, refuses because he doesn't want the child to end up like Edward.  After this altercation Arnold ends up in jail, and in most films, he would have had his comeuppance after having his son and wife die, along with going to the pokey, but here the film actually has him continuing to not see the err in his ways, wanting to find his lost grandchild and spoil it by giving it "everything it needs."  It's the sort of ending that clearly feels cribbed from the harsher universe of the theater rather than the calmer, warmer cinema where he would have had a less indulgent parenting style with the child.

This is the only thing to lend itself to the film.  There are moments in Deborah Kerr's nominated performance, especially in the middle when she's trying to find a balance between her newfound wealth and stature and her struggles with her husband's failing morality that feel like it might make the picture more special, but as the film progresses and the ladylike Kerr is forced to become a raging, aging alcoholic she cannot seem to muster such a performance and it feels dangerously close to histrionics.  She's still more interesting than Tracy, but I think that's just because I like Kerr in general and not Tracy in general, so all things being even she's going to win.  As it is, though, Kerr is hardly at her finest here and cannot save the film which is overly preachy and cannot sustain the plot.  Also, I get why they didn't cast anyone to play Edward (he's always off-screen both in the movie and play), but it feels more gimmicky than neat, and as a result I feel like they might have gained if we had an Edward to project upon since the script doesn't feel rich enough to carry his absence.

Those are my thoughts on this late 1940's film.  Anyone want to rush to its defense?  I greatly favored Olivia de Havilland's excellent work in The Heiress, but does someone want to make the case that this is the film Kerr deserved her elusive Oscar for?  Share your thoughts below in the comments!

OVP: The Actress (1953)

Film: The Actress (1953)
Stars: Spencer Tracy, Jean Simmons, Teresa Wright, Anthony Perkins
Director: George Cukor
Oscar History: 1 nomination (Best Costume Design)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 3/5 stars

You may not have realized this because I haven't said anything and we're already four days into the festival, but the Turner Classic Movies' 31 Days of Oscar is one of my most hallowed Academy Awards traditions.  Every year like clockwork I make my list of all of the missing OVP films that Netflix/the studios (it's case-by-case on whom to blame there) haven't released on DVD and that I can't get delivered to my apartment, and though I always have failed, I try my darndest to keep up with the rigorous schedule.  This year I have no illusions that it will be a challenge, but my goal is to not have any of the (100 or so-eek!) movies that are on my DVR slip quietly into the night without either seeing them or finding a different way to get my hands on them while I make room for the new (100 or so-double eek!) movies that TCM is throwing down my pipe.  That is how we chance upon this little-discussed Jean Simmons dramedy from the early 1950's based on the life of future Oscar-winner Ruth Gordon.  I'm hoping you enjoy obscure film reviews (I know I do) because the blog is going to be filling up with them pretty darn fast over the next few weeks.

(Spoilers Ahead) The film, as I mentioned, is based on the very early life of Ruth Gordon, long before she became a great writer (even penning Spencer Tracy's classic Adam's Rib) and become the antichrist's wet nurse (if you don't get that reference you really need to see more movies).  The film follows her as she has a domineering father (Tracy) and a doting but troubled mother (Wright-and I cannot believe that they managed to make Teresa Wright look so believably old in this film despite only being about 35-kudos to the makeup and hair team) and tries to convince them to support her love of acting and quest to become a great star on the stage.  Her father wants her to do something more practical, like become a gym teacher, while her mother wants her to get married to her nice boyfriend Fred (Perkins, in his screen debut).  But Ruth wants to act, and is willing to go to great lengths and make great sacrifices to get there.

The interesting thing about The Actress is where it was positioned in Ruth Gordon's actual career and the way that sort of reflects the bitter anguish of the film (the ending of the movie has Tracy forced to sell his beloved spyglass after losing his job but still wanting to send his daughter to New York City to pursue her dream).  While Gordon would have some success earlier in her career (most notably playing Mary Todd Lincoln opposite Raymond Massey in Abe Lincoln in Illinois), it wasn't until after The Actress that she actually made her biggest impact in the cinema, eventually in the late 1960's (when most actresses would be in their twilight years) winning an Oscar for Rosemary's Baby, another nomination for Inside Daisy Clover, and legions of fans as Maude Chardin in the beloved Harold and Maude.  In 1953, Gordon's career had been a success not as an actress, but as a writer, winning three Oscar nominations and writing several of the classic Tracy-Hepburn films.

This adds an extra level to what Jean Simmons is doing as her Ruth, because we assume that she actually won't get to be Hazel Dawn, her idol, and instead will have to settle for a different vocation, one that may bring her even more joy and would allow for her to find the love of her life, but isn't the dream that she wanted for herself as a child.  Simmons plays the part excellently, perhaps the first time I've ever really gravitated toward her in a film (before I'd kind of gotten a "stodgy" vibe from the actress).  I love the way that her confidence exceeds her ability, and the way that she has written so many plays and acts for herself-her greatest part is herself, which is a meta-joke considering Gordon wrote this particular film about herself.  Tracy and Wright are both fine as her parents, though Tracy could probably do this part in his sleep and doesn't get the wit that he had in some of his other collaborations with Cukor and Gordon (this is more bluster).  All-in-all, a good film made more interesting by the back story.  And the costumes were a nice touch, even if there isn't really anything particularly special going on aside from putting Jean Simmons in a parade of bows and hats (though if you've ever wanted to see Norman Bates unironically sporting a fur coat that feels like it's straight out of Liberace's closet, you cannot pass this movie up).  The rest of the costume work is a series of too-fashionable dresses that feel well outside of the budget of Ruth, particularly with her penny-pinching father.  Random trivia about the nomination, though: Walter Plunkett was nominated twice that year for outfitting Jean Simmons, also gaining a citation for Young Bess.  He ended up losing, however, to Edith Head with Roman Holiday-clearly Plunkett should have gone with Audrey Hepburn.

Those are my thoughts on the film.  What about you-has anyone seen The Actress, and wants to weigh in on its quality and costumes?  If not, what about Ruth Gordon and Jean Simmons, both big actresses in their days who have gotten a little lost in the pop culture shuffle?  Share your thoughts in the comments!

OVP: What Price Hollywood? (1932)

Film: What Price Hollywood? (1932)
Stars: Constance Bennett, Lowell Sherman, Neil Hamilton, Gregory Ratoff, Louise Beavers
Director: George Cukor
Oscar History: 1 nomination (Best Story)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 5/5 stars

My brother has pointed out to me on several occasions that when I'm reviewing older movies for the OVP, ones that I have not seen before but are random nominees for Screenplay or Costume or something (the one-and-done sort of nominees), I end up with the inevitable 2-star ranking.  This seems to be true, I will have to admit.  While I love old movies, I have seen most of what are deemed the "classics" and while I'm usually just as hard on new releases, I tend to have to separate myself quite a bit from old-timey sexism or attitudes toward women and minorities (and I'll fully admit that I can only stretch too far before I break, as evidenced here).  That being said, when an old film doesn't feel the need to infuse too much sexism, but instead style and panache and glamour and put it all under a microscope, I am fully able to give a strong review, which is exactly what happened to me when I saw the forgotten classic What Price Hollywood? a film that I'd never heard of before I saw it pop up on TCM and one that I'm absolutely giddy about having viewed.

(Spoilers Ahead) The movie tells the tale of Mary Evans (Bennett), who is a down-on-her-luck waitress who desperately wants to be a star in the motion picture industry.  Mary is one of those wisecracking waitresses that exist only in TV sitcom reruns today (the kind that used to be played by Eve Arden or Linda Lavin), but she's a joy to be around, and this is something that director Max Carey (Sherman) realizes after drunkenly hiring her to be in a small role in his next picture.  Like all waitresses discovered in movies, she ends up being a big star, a huge headliner who falls in love with a playboy named Lonny (Hamilton, and yes that's the same Neil Hamilton who played Commissioner Gordon in the Batman TV series), and eventually meets her downfall.

But interestingly enough, it's not because she gets pregnant or ends up pining over her beau, but because she's too loyal of a friend.  Max is a director who is devoted to the bottle and despite the insisting of both Lonny and her producer friend Julius (Gregory Ratoff, who also memorably played a producer in All About Eve) she stands by him, insisting that she be loyal to the man who discovered her despite her husband leaving her as a result of it.  When Max, who clearly has depression along with his alcoholism, ends up shooting himself after realizing his life will have no saving, Mary is blamed in the scandal and watches her career erupt in flames.  She flees the country when she thinks Lonny is after her baby, but in true Hollywood fashion, she gets a ludicrously sweet ending with Lonny chasing after her and her son and they all get a happily ever after.

The ending aside, though, this is a really fantastic picture, and even the ending has its charms (I LOVED that it was just as important that she not only got her husband, but a career comeback was in the works as well-Mary values her career just as much as her romantic life, and I admired that so much for an era that never did something like that-even the Star is Born pictures, which are clearly borrowing from this movie, didn't have the guts for that).  There are so many little nuances of Hollywood and its ugly side, particularly toward women that made me really fascinated by its aptness so many decades ago.  George Cukor (famous for his "women's pictures") is a fine director, but it's surprising that so early in his career he was able to make a movie where the female protagonist chooses her friends and career over a husband and isn't punished for it.  So frequently, even with great films, the women have to show no other devotion before the man comes into the picture, but she seems nonplussed by her husband being called Mr. Mary Evans and seems to actually enjoy her success, not just doing it until she has a man.

Feminism is refreshing, but it doesn't make this a terrific movie.  What does is a script that moves briskly, finds frequent heart and humor and truth (look at the way that Mary is thrown under the bus for a scandal where she was the good guy), and that shows the shallowness and the marketing involved with Hollywood (how they use Mary to shape a narrative).  The film is also elevated by Constance Bennett's excellent work as Mary Evans.  There's a truly wonderful scene (the best scene in the picture) where Mary, after botching a seemingly easy role, goes home and practices for hours and hours.  In most performances we'd get to the point where she is able to do the role well.  Bennett, on the other hand, makes the performance not only be good, but also shows how difficult being a star is by being outstanding, better than what we'd even have expected.  It's a sly trick to show how much her vigor and timing are bringing to the role and for the rest of the film, unlike some other pictures, we're fully aware of why the country is captivated by Mary Evans-she has the sharpness and excellence of one of the Talkies first big stars.

All-in-all, while I wish the ending wasn't quite so pat, the rest of the film is just aces so I'm doing something I rarely do and give this a five-star review (I was debating between four and five, but it's Friday and I'm going to be generous-Bennett would surely get five stars and possibly my Oscar were she nominated, which she tragically wasn't).  What are your thoughts-do you ever find yourself perplexed by how good a random movie that you've never heard of was?  Do you, like me, have a serious talent crush on Constance Bennett?  And of course, where does What Price Hollywood? rank next to the screenplays of Lady and Gent, The Star Witness, and the victoriously-named The Champ (which won, of course)?  Sound off in the comments!

OVP: It Should Happen to You (1954)

Film: It Should Happen to You (1954)
Stars: Judy Holliday, Jack Lemmon, Peter Lawford, Michael O'Shea
Director: George Cukor
Oscar History: 1 nomination (Best Costume)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 3/5 stars

I know what you're thinking.  You're looking at that title and thinking, "Wait, 1954?  Did he get this wrong?  Isn't this the name of that romantic comedy with Bridget Fonda from the 90's?" and you'd be close, cause that was what I initially thought, but there's a big difference between should and could in this case.  Instead, here we have what may be one of the most prescient films I've ever seen from the 1950's.  The film, about a woman who simply wants her names in lights and to be well-known, even if there's no actual reason for her new-found fame, is wildly predictive of the advent of reality television and "famous for the sake of being famous" in a way few films ever prove to be so prophetic.  While the film itself is pretty run-of-the-mill (though anchored by strong work from Judy Holliday, the film's plot is almost eerie in the way that it predicts our current Kardashian-obsessed present.

(Spoilers Ahead) The film takes place in Manhattan, circa the 1950's, when a young woman, down-on-her-luck Gladys Glover (Holliday) decides to impetuously buy a billboard for $630 with her name splashed across it over Columbus Circle.  Nothing more than just her name, but it starts to garnish some attention.  She's pursued by a perplexed documentary filmmaker named Pete (Lemmon) who is infatuated by her but cannot get over her utter fascination with publicity and fame, instead thinking that she should crave privacy and thinking she's a bit vain for all of this.  Gladys continues to stumble toward fame when a wealthy executive named Evan Adams III (Lawford) decides he wants her billboard, and as a result offers her six huge signs throughout New York City that state her name (and of course, being that this is a romantic comedy and we need a caddish foil, Lawford also starts to fall for Holliday).

This creates a swirl surrounding Gladys, and soon everyone in New York wants to know who the girl with the billboards is, and soon she becomes well-known, appearing on television, primarily as the object of ridicule, though initially she doesn't seem to know or care.  After a while she becomes a household name, appearing in advertisements as the "All-American Girl" but after Evan makes a pass at her, she decides that this life isn't quite for her, and that she would prefer life with Pete.  A couple of bits of chasing her fella (including an air-writer with a message "Pete Call Gladys Please") leaves Holliday in Lemmon's arms, and us with our happily ever after.

I have a few things to say about this film before we get to the costumes.  One, I'm in love with how much this mirrors the future careers of women like Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashian (minus the sex tapes).  There is absolutely no reason for Gladys's fame.  She's not a singer or a dancer or an actress-there's nothing interesting about her except that she's attractive and that she was clever enough to put her name on a billboard.  While the idea of "famous for the sake of famous" wasn't an alien concept in 1954 (women like Zsa Zsa Gabor and Brenda Frazier had managed to make names for themselves in this way), this mirrored the rise of the Kardashians far more than either of those two earlier women.

The second thing is that I have now watched three films (the others are here and here) where a woman is celebrated for giving up her career for the happiness of a man.  I'd say that celebrating this has changed, but this film is brand new and does the same thing.  This is something I hadn't noticed very often before, but with three films where it becomes a key plot point, I realize that this is a depressingly common trope across all of cinema (everything from Notting Hill to Titanic to Roman Holiday involves a woman trying to deplete herself to let a man enter her world).  Someone should really find a way to make a film where a man has to change for a woman and give up part of his happiness for hers pretty soon to start to balance a century's worth of cinema.

The movie's sole Oscar nomination was for Best Costume design, and it was probably due in part to the incredible reputation of the designer, Jean Louis, than for anything else.  Louis would create iconic looks for Rita Hayworth, Marilyn Monroe, and his eventual wife Loretta Young, and here is working with the woman who got him his first Oscar nomination in Born Yesterday (Louis would win only one Oscar, also for working with Holliday in The Solid Gold Cadillac).  The looks of Holliday are immaculate if a little bit blase by the standards we usually hold Oscar too.  I love the way that she is always so fashionable, even in the opening scenes-a girl who wants her name on a billboard is going to be looking perfect to begin with, and everything seems to be a cavalcade of the chic and modern.   The men and basically all other characters in the film aren't what you'd consider interesting, but Holliday looks terrific.

Those are my thoughts on the charming if simple movie-what about you?  Do you ever watch movies from the 40's and 50's and think "how did they know?!?"?  Are you as equally disturbed by the "woman gives up her career" trope within nearly all of romantic cinema?  And what did you think of Jean Louis' costumes?  Share in the comments!