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I wish someone had said that to my mother in 1958.
Do you think it would have changed her mind?
I wish someone had said that to my mother in 1958.
I think they played it once, a long time ago. It was a Paramount film, but has since become public domain, so there's a lot of raggedy versions floating around, including one on YouTube that's so dark and foggy it's like watching the movie thru smoked glass. But there's also a restored DVD out there that has a pretty decent picture. Here's a clip:
Eagels was a superb actress on Broadway and in silent pictures during the twenties, but she was one of the many stars of that period who couldn't stay away from drugs. She was a heroin addict and an alcoholic, and that's what killed her -- a great loss to both stage and screen.
I think they played it once, a long time ago. It was a Paramount film, but has since become public domain, so there's a lot of raggedy versions floating around, including one on YouTube that's so dark and foggy it's like watching the movie thru smoked glass. But there's also a restored DVD out there that has a pretty decent picture. Here's a clip:
Eagels was a superb actress on Broadway and in silent pictures during the twenties, but she was one of the many stars of that period who couldn't stay away from drugs. She was a heroin addict and an alcoholic, and that's what killed her -- a great loss to both stage and screen.
Do you think it would have changed her mind?
Do you think it would have changed her mind?
And another example of a '20s small-breasted women as star (connecting to a serious not lascivious discussion in another thread) versus today's obsession-leading-to-surgey craziness.
A nickel for every poor woman who thought that she could "change" some boorish, violent, narcissistic lout or superannuated mama's boy (the latter who will never find a woman in this world who'll live up to his unrealistic image of dear Ol' Ma).
Heck, I'll take that nickel for every woman who just had to date a "bad boy" in high school because he was "cool," ended up marrying him, and then called me up ten years later asking for the name of a good divorce lawyer.
Whenever I have been asked by a woman for legal advice regarding said personal relations
my words always seem to fall upon deaf ears, often repeatedly spoken following added solicit.
Court orders, alimony, child custody, other issues amidst adult childishness and vindictive foolish behavior.
I’ve seen the European version
and though I understand the language, it was distracting to
hear Eastwood, Wallach and
Van Cleef in a foreign tongue
which sounded nothing like
the actors.
We lived in Europe when I was a teen and only had the local national TV stations to watch. I watched many overdubbed American films on TV and in many cases the same person would overdub a particular actor. They sounded nothing like the American actors but at least you had some continuity going on with that deal. I used to hate, however, if a different person overdubbed a certain film actor and you had to get used to another voice all over again! Hated that!
"Love in a flash" -- maybe that's why I don't care overmuch for modern rom-coms, even aside from their limp boring dialogue. Exceptions, of course, there are: I love You've Got Mail and its direct ancestor The Shop Around the Corner, partly because of snappy or well-done dialogue, partly because (for a change) it's the guy who finally gets the couple together.. . .
As to love in a flash in movies (then and now), it drives my girlfriend and me nuts. It happens so often in movies that you almost have to let it go, but it is still irksome. At least in the old movies (and with the code enforced), they weren't having out-of-wedlock sex (in real life, sure they were, but not in movies of the era), so, in movies, you didn't have the normal "process" (have a lot of sex) to figure out the "is it love or lust" test?
. . .
And to Lizzie's point - Ginger was a real actress who could give as good (or better) than she got when the studio and code let her. Some of her pre-code and, even, not-with-Astaire code-era movies show her more than able to take care of herself. . . .
My mother took my brother and me, and sometimes just me as I was the elder brother, to various films in my childhood. We were never on time for the showing -- we always seemed to miss the first 5-10 minutes of every movie. Apparently she realized this. When she took us to True Grit in '69, though, she hustled us out of the house way early, so that we sat downstairs in the little visitors' lounge of the Saenger Theatre for about ten minutes, until the current showing was over; then we went upstairs.My grandparents were long gone before I entered the picture. And I can't recall ever going to see a movie in a theater with my parents. Dad was always working, either at his job or around the house, and the few times I can remember him taking the time to watch television it was a golf tournament, USC vs. UCLA football (a friendly rivalry between dad and my older brother), or the occasional Super Bowl. Otherwise, his preferred form of recreation was listening to the baseball games on the radio in the garage. And mom preferred to stay home and watch television. Nope, not a lot of family outings when I was growing up.
But I can remember the first movie I saw in a theater: Bonnie and Clyde (1967) starring Faye Dunaway and Warren Beatty. I have no idea who I went with, but it was probably one of my babysitters because I was only six years old. Heck of an introduction to cinema, and it's still one of my favorite movies.
"Love in a flash" -- maybe that's why I don't care overmuch for modern rom-coms, even aside from their limp boring dialogue. Exceptions, of course, there are: I love You've Got Mail and its direct ancestor The Shop Around the Corner, partly because of snappy or well-done dialogue, partly because (for a change) it's the guy who finally gets the couple together.
Ginger? I haven't seen any of her dramatic roles, but her comic turn in Monkey Business with Cary Grant tells me she had a lot more going on than dance moves.
Non dancing Ginger!
View attachment 122692
You really have to suspend your disbelief when it comes to mistaking Ginger Rogers for a pre-teen girl.