stumbling virtue

In Praise of Swing Time

2009-11-26T20:59:18-05:00

Fred and Ginger, "Never Gonna Dance." Lucky for us they didn't take the song title seriously.

Turner Classic ran Fred Astaire-Ginger Rogers movies all day today, which meant that I had the chance to watch my favorite, Swing Time, again. I probably was about nine when I first saw it, and no matter how many times I've seen it, I never pass up a chance to watch again.

There are so many things that are great about this movie--the dancing, the high Art Deco sets, the lovely Jerome Kern score. Let me tell you my three favorite parts:

The first is the scene where Astaire and Rogers meet not so cute. He's on the run from a wedding gone bad, so he's dressed in a morning coat and top hat, accompanied by his weird friend Eric Blore. She's a girl on her way to work. After they bump into each other, Penny (Ginger) thinks that Lucky (Fred) stole a quarter from her purse and asks a nearby cop to help her out. He takes one look at Fred dressed for high society and immediately dismisses Ginger's claim. When she persists, the cop threatens to arrest her for disturbing the piece. It's just a little piece of class-consciousness and Depression life that always caught my attention (and yes,was a major part of a paper I wrote in film school).

The next is the first major dance number, "Pick Yourself Up." Fred has followed Ginger to the dance school where she teaches, and signs up for a lesson. He pretends to be hopelessly clumsy, so bad that she tells him that no one could teach him to dance and he shouldn't waste his money on lessons. Her boss overhears and fires her for dismissing a paying customer, but Fred intervenes and asks to show what she's taught him, and proceeds to dance like, well, Fred Astaire. There's a great shot of Ginger's face reacting in pure delight when she sees what he can do, and then when she joins in, they do one of the blithest, lightest numbers ever put on film. But what makes this performance one of the premiere Astaire performances is that it shows his understanding that tap isn't just about dancing, but is also about being a musician. Astaire wrote songs on the side, played the piano, and the drums, and was one of the most underrated jazz interpreters of the era. He had a thrilling understanding of how to play with the beat and syncopation of a piece of music, which he really shows off in the choreography for "Pick Yourself Up." In it, he and Ginger don't tap along to the music so much as act as a counterpoint, banging out their own rhythm in between the song's own beats. I'm not sure I'm doing a good job describing this, as I have no background in jazz or musicology, or even dance criticism, but trust me--while there may be examples of tap that display more firepower, technique, and trickery, there are few others that show how music and dance can work together as equals, rather than as two separate art forms with one subservient to the other.

And finally, there is "Never Gonna Dance," number, where Fred and Ginger think they're saying goodbye to each other forever. This has the same seamless combination of music and dance as "Pick Yourself Up," but it also adds drama and a story. It's one of the finest dance numbers ever put on film (I also adore Ginger's gown in this one, and you can't ignore the sweeping staircases on the set). I think when people talk about the great dance moments in movies, this sometimes gets a little lost in the shuffle of famous technicolor MGM musicals of the '40s and '50s, but it's as good as anything you'll find in those movies. I love "Singin' in the Rain," but there's no dance number in that movie, nor in the somewhat overrated "An American in Paris," that has the depth of emotion as "Never Gonna Dance" (probably the closest is Fred and Ginger's "Let's Face the Music and Dance" from "Follow the Fleet; in the non-Ginger category it would be Fred and Cyd Charisse's "Dancing in the Dark" in "The Bandwagon," also a somewhat underrated movie).

So I just wanted to say all that. Again, I'm not a dance critic, music critic, or (barely) a film critic, but sometimes things are so wonderful you can't keep them to yourself.

The Girl Can't Help It

2009-11-26T20:55:56-05:00

Canova's sculpture of Pauline Bonaparte (the Princess Borghese) as Venus. It is far too appropriate that she is reclining.

For once, when I say this will be brief, I sincerely mean it.

After reading "Dancing to the Precipice," a wonderful book that covered both the French Revolution and life under Napoleon, I decided I should read more about the latter period. The first book I stumbled upon was Pauline Bonaparte: Venus of Empire, by Flora Fraser. I had read a pretty good review of it, so thought I'd give it a try.

I can't say I'm sorry I did, because it didn't take that much time to read. I can say, however, that I wish I had chosen something else. There's nothing wrong with Ms. Fraser's organization of the book, or solid research and workmanlike writing. It's just, well, Pauline.

In short, Pauline Bonaparte, one of Napoleon's younger sisters, was a great beauty. She married General Charles Leclerc when she was seventeen, and had a son with him, Dermide. She accompanied Leclerc when he was sent to the island of Saint-Domingue (now Haiti) to get the rebellion led by Toussaint L'Ouverture, under control. Leclerc never could put the rebels down completely, and died of yellow fever on the island. Pauline and Dermide returned to France. She soon married Prince Camillo Borghese, an apparently ridiculously handsome man who was also flat out dumb. Early on in their marriage, Dermide died. Pauline never had any more children; it's likely that she contracted an infection while giving birth to Dermide that made it impossible for her to get pregnant.

Pauline probably considered this a lucky break because her main occupation in life was sleeping around. You could call her a sexually empowered woman, or you could call her a slut. I call her boring. Her lovers weren't anyone particularly interesting and it doesn't seem that her affairs led her to any places of importance, or gave her any insight on anything. Her habits were widely known, and probably, fairly or not, exaggerated. There were rumors in Saint-Domingue that she had native lovers, plus lesbian encounters. Then there was a persistent story that she and her brother Napoleon had incestuous relations (Fraser seems to believe this was true). None of which made her anymore interesting to me. She spent most of her life having sex and behaving like a spoiled child. When she was first told that she and Leclerc were going to Saint-Domingue, she complained until someone suggested that she would look very pretty in the summery island fashions. That perked her right up, and that's about how deep she was her entire life.

Pauline spent most of her life lying on sofas or in bed. She demanded to be carried everywhere, and regularly made men and women act as her footstools. I'm not kidding, Fraser's book includes several anecdotes describing how people arrived to visit Pauline and found her using some unfortunate lady-in-waiting's neck as a footstool. She constantly complained about how her titles, homes, jewels, and carriages compared with her sisters' things, always pestering Napoleon to give her something else; the sisters complained right back. At Napoleon's coronation, where Josephine was crowned empress, the three sisters pouted about her having a higher rank than them. They were supposed to carry Josephine's train, but pulled on it instead, making it impossible for her to walk, until Napoleon glared at them and made them behave. Yes, they were all adults in their twenties when they pulled this stunt. The main thing I got out of this book was pity for Napoleon that he was saddled with so many bickering, bratty siblings. If Europe had really wanted to punish him, they would have banished him to Elba and St. Helene's with his extended family. Seriously, if you plan to ascend to any kind of powerful position some day, I recommend you take careful stock of your family first, and if you're not an only child, reconsider your plans.

And that's pretty much all I have to say about this book.

Happy Anniversary, Part I

2009-11-26T20:52:16-05:00

What, you think I'd forgotten? What am I, a forgetter? Okay, so it's not an exact anniversary on this date, but it's the spirit of the holiday that matters here. Yes, I am the only one who knows what I'm talking about. No, I'm not telling.

December Movies 2009

2009-11-15T21:27:37-05:00

It's that time of year when studios bring out all their Oscar bait movies. You know, serious subjects, tour de force (or desperate) performances, grand adaptations of serious novels, biopics, epic romances, plain epics, lush costumes, and period pieces. A few popcorn movies and kids' movies get thrown in to make money as well. So I always like to do a little rundown of what we can look forward to during this "please give us an award" time of year.

By the way, I say December movies, but the Serious Season really starts in November, or even October, so I'll drop in some movies that come before December. We'll need that extra boost of November movies, by the way; there are less films being released this year for a variety of reasons--the last echoes of the writers' strike a few years ago, a slow economy that made studios pull back a bit on buying and distributing festival award winning indies, and an increasing risk aversion with studios so cherry picking the release dates of films that if they even see the slightest bit of competition, they'll pull a movie off a weekend and hold it for a few months or even until the following November/December season, if it has awards promise.

So here we go--selected titles that will be coming soon to a theater near you!

Out Now

"The Men Who Stare at Goats" - Inept parapsychology and crackpot theories as interpreted by lots of likable actors? I'm in...mostly. This looks more like a "I'll wait for video" than a shell-out my $12.50 for the theater experience.

"Fantastic Mr. Fox" - I usually find Wes Anderson's movies annoyingly precious (with the huge exception of "Rushmore," the saddest comedy I've ever seen), but I'm a sucker for foxes, especially cute little stop motion ones. Though again, this might be a candidate for video.

"Precious: Based on the novel 'Push' by Sapphire" - This won lots of awards on the festival circuit, has huge Oscar buzz, mostly good reviews (though with some serious detractors), and has performed much better at the box office than anyone expected. That said, this looks way too depressing for me. Yes, I know this makes me a bad film person. I might as well just go buy my ticket for "Couples Retreat" and sink further into the abyss.

"Uncertainty" - Joseph Gordon-Levitt, one of my favorite young actors, in the always reliable "choose your own adventure" plotline (what are the results if we walk this way? what are the results if we walk that way?). I didn't know anything about it until I read a review. It sounded intriguing, but not intriguing enough to pay full freight (have I mentioned I'm a little financially challenged right now?). Another Netflix option.

November 20th

"The Twilight Saga: New Moon" - I have zero desire to see this. I haven't read the books and didn't see the first one. You know, I've just never been particularly interested in vampires. I just don't get the appeal. Is there something wrong with me? But I just thought I'd mention because it's going to be a huge hit.

"The Blind Side" - Aahh, the story of how the left tackle position became one of the most sought after and highly paid in football, turned into a heartwarming Sandra Bullock vehicle (though, yes, of course, the Michael Lewis book does include the heartwarming story of how a wealthy white southern family pulled a black kid from the streets and helped turn him into a highly paid left tackle). I include this mainly because this movie got made so easily and meanwhile, the attempt to adapt Lewis's better known "Moneyball" has turned into a Hollywood chaos story that Lewis might want to tackle in another book someday).

"Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans" - This one isn't for me, but I sort of weirdly admire Werner Herzog's audacity in remaking the relatively recent original "Bad Lieutenant," and giving Nicolas Cage a chance to chew through more scenery. I also am impressed by their choice of setting the film in New Orleans which I'm sure had absolutely nothing to do with the tax breaks Louisiana hands out to production companies like the house you trick or treat at around 9:30 on Halloween night (you know, the people who aren't going to be answering the door anymore and have bags of leftover candy that they just pour into your pillow case saying, "Here kid, I just want to get rid of it.").

November 25th

"The Road" - Sigh. Again, this has all the hallmarks of a Movie You Should See. It is based on a prestigious source, stars accomplished actors, and is about important serious subject matter. But despite my love for Viggo and Guy Pearce, I just can't picture myself racing off to buy a ticket to see this one on Thanksgiving Day (an excellent moviegoing day, by the way, though Christmas is even better). Someone would have to be enormously persuasive to get me there. If I want to see people trudging around in raggedy clothes after the apocalypse I'd just as soon see "The Road Warrior." I know, take my Film Studies degree right now.

"Me and Orson Welles" - Usually I love anything to do with Welles and the Federal Theater Project, and Richard Linklater is a pretty reliable director. I appreciate the fact that they cast a theater actor as Welles, but as for the rest of the cast? Claire Danes and Zac Efron both seem to be able to bore me just by looking at them. They'll make me skip this one, I'm sorry to say. Different actors and maybe I'd be there.

December 4th

"Brothers" - Considering my seeming aversion for serious subject matter, it might seem surprising that I'd be interested in seeing this one. I guess I can't give any more deep reason than I just always have liked Tobey Maguire (except in "Seabiscuit"--don't even get me started on that disaster of a film). This might be a wait until video choice, though.

"Up in the Air" - An adaptation of an acclaimed novel, an excellent cast and serious subject matter--so why do I find that a problem with "The Road" but in this case, absolutely want to see this movie? Well, the raggedy clothes and wandering around after the apocalypse thing is the problem (I swear I don't base my movie choices on people wearing raggedy clothes--I'm up for any impoverished Victorian family or medieval film. Just wait until you see the costume design for the Charlemagne biopic I'll someday make). I guess as down as the topic is here (people being fired), there seems to be some comedy and charm. And on a minor note, I appreciate the fact that the accomplished Vera Farmiga is cast as George Clooney's love interest here, rather than the nineteen year old Barbie Doll starlet of the moment. I hope I get to see this one in a theater.

December 11th

"Invictus" - The reliable Clint's annual entry. Rugby as a healing force. Bringing people together. Matt Damon doing an accent. I'm sure it all comes together, but I'm having trouble getting excited about this.

"The Lovely Bones" - I didn't read the book so I don't have an attachment to how it is or isn't interpreted. Peter Jackson made what I consider the all-time best movie about being a teenage girl, "Heavenly Creatures," so I have faith in him. What I don't have faith in is the way this film (or book) seems to be so self-consciously uplifting. Do I make any sense? I complain about some movies being too serious, then another for being uplifting. But you know what I mean--not just uplifting, but UPLIFTING!! Heaven and all that.

"A Single Man" - Great reviews and Julianne Moore is one of my heroes, but I don't know if that's enough for me to carve out a trip to the local art house to see this one.

December 18th

"Avatar" - It seems like James Cameron has been in production on this one for about ten years, and it's surely one of the most anticipated movies of the year. Yet I have found the previews astonishingly boring. I believe I am in the minority on this.

"Nine" - Rob Marshall's adaptation of the mildly successful Broadway musical. I say "mildly successful" because I've never met anyone who has said this is one of their favorite shows, or who would list it amongst the greats (and trust me, I know people who can sit and discuss all the actresses who've played Mama Rose, what was cut during the out of town tryouts of "A Chorus Line" and what's wrong with the second act of "Camelot). I've personally never cared much for it, and I admit to being a little irritated by the way the film casts all these nonsinging and dancing movie stars in the women's roles, who will then get acclaim for their "singing and dancing" which will mostly be a product of the recording studio and the editing room (seriously, I would be surprised if any one of them could give even a representative effort standing in an audition room, without a microphone and with only bare piano accompaniment; your average Broadway chorus member could blow away any person in this cast). But my bitterness aside--I am alway awed by Daniel Day-Lewis, and I was really impressed by Marshall's work on "Chicago." So maybe I'll give this a try...if I can put that nasty bitterness aside, of course.

"The Young Victoria" - Ahh, the stately period biopic. This will have to have tremendous reviews to get me interested. To be honest, I'd rather read a book about The Young Victoria.

December 25th

"It's Complicated" - I love you, Meryl, but I've never liked anything made by director Nancy Meyers, and this doesn't seem likely to break that streak.

"Sherlock Holmes" - I could not be more excited. Please let this one be as good as I hope it will be, just this once...

Sleeping Dogs

2009-11-15T21:13:16-05:00

Have I mentioned how cute my dog is? If you leave any blanket or pillow alone for even a second, she'll find it and make herself at home.

But she also has her outdoorsy side.

Children of the Revolution

2009-11-15T21:00:51-05:00

The Storming of the Bastille. Then everything changed.

I once asked my dad what he has seen in his life that surprised him the most. Space travel? I tossed out? No, he was always a big science fiction reader, so he was always confident that people would fly into space someday (though he's still waiting for his turn). Instead he said that what surprised him the most was the speed of communication--the Internet and email, that he could write something or send a picture and have someone else receive it instantly.

I suppose if you live long enough, you will see things you never expected to see, and most likely will exit a world very different from the one you entered. Lucie de La Tour du Pin was born in 1770 in Paris and died at age 83 in Pisa, and in-between lived a life of almost uninterrupted drama as she struggled to survive through the constant upheaval of France in the late eighteenth to mid-nineteenth century. In a time when no one knew when the winning side was going to be overturned into the losing side, it is remarkable that she escaped as often as she did.

A young Lucie de la Tour du Pin

Luckily for us, de La Tour du Pin was a keen observer of the events going on around us, and even luckier, she started to write her memoirs at age fifty so we know her story. Luckiest of all we have author Caroline Moorehead to put it all in context and finish what Lucie did not complete (her memoirs trail off when she gets to 1815--and yes, I am going to defy etiquette and refer to her as "Lucie" for the rest of the way) in her book, "Dancing to the Precipice."

The execution of Louis XVI.

“We were laughing and dancing our way to the precipice” was Lucie's own description of what she saw happening while one of Marie Antoinette's ladies in the waning days of the ancien regime. Lucie was an heiress, born to a family with roots in the English and French aristocracy. Lucie's mother was a timid soul who also was a member of the Queen's household; she died when Lucie was a little girl. Lucie's father fought for the Americans during the American Revolution and then resettled in the Caribbean, marrying a wealthy widow. Lucie was raised in the home of her despised grandmother, Madame de Rothe, who alternately ignored and mistreated Lucie. Madame de Rothe conducted a lifelong affair with her own uncle, an archbishop; as eyebrow-raising as this is, it was probably her sole virtue in Lucie's eyes, as Archbishop Dillon treated Lucie much better than her grandmother did.

Lucie was married at seventeen (sigh, as always, the book is back at the library, so I'm going to be a bit shaky on dates and things) to a young man who had served with her father in the American war, and whose own father was a highly placed government minister in France. In a time when marriage was more business than pleasure (if that has changed), Lucie and Frederic had a rare, happy love match; the other ladies at court made fun of Lucie for not using her position and looks to take lovers, but she only wanted Frederic.

The combination of Moorehead and Lucie make for a compelling guide to life at Marie Antointette's court. Moorehead has an eye for fashion and its social meaning; few things represent the rotting of the aristocracy as well as her descriptive of the increasingly excessive and impractical clothes: wigs so tall that women had to stick their heads out of their carriage windows, panniers so wide they could only enter a room sideways and that left them sitting on sofas with their legs sticking straight out like dolls, and tiny high heeled slippers to balance it all on. Lucie's first miscarriage (sadly the first of many) occurred when she was rushing to go to one of the queen's appointments and she tripped over her skirts and fell.

After some more pregnancy troubles, Lucie finally had a healthy son and used him as an excuse to retire to one of the family's country estates for a while. Shortly after, the Revolution began.

Lucie and Frederic were with the court at various points in the aftermath of the fall of the Bastille; Frederic's father even retained a high position in the new government for a while. Life sometimes seemed absurdly normal. But soon, like most of the aristocracy, they found things changing almost faster than anyone could comprehend. Lucie was in Versailles when the women of Paris marched on it and attacked. Lucie and her son hid while the riot raged out of control and barely escaped with their lives as the king and queen were taken prisoner.

Things became more complicated when Frederic's role in putting down an army uprising made him a wanted man amongst the newly powerful Jacobins. Lucie's father, who had returned to France from the Caribbean and become close to her again, was taken prisoner and eventually guillotined. Lucie and her son went on the run, hiding and relying on the kindness of workers and townspeople near their estates. The Terror raged in Bordeaux, with aristocrats executed at a dizzying pace. But Lucie found that a woman she had known in Paris was now the mistress of one of the town officials controlling the executions and she used her influence to clear (temporarily) the de la Tour du Pin family. At this point, Lucie heard of a ship leaving for America and made the decision to bolt France.

They settled in upstate New York, first in Albany, and then on a small farm in Troy, where Lucie, the young woman who had minced through Versailles on tiny heels while balancing a giant wig on her head now became a farmer's wife who got up before dawn to milk the cows. Surprisingly, she found the life suited her. She thought the area was beautiful and took pride in making the farm work. The excellent, elegantly molded butter she impressed the locals (well, she was French after all...). Because of her British relations, Lucie was fluent in English and had no trouble getting along, and when they wanted reminders of home, there were French expat colonies scattered along the east coast. Of all people, Talleyrand showed up at their farm one day; he drifted in and out of Lucie's life well into the next century.

An artist's highly romanticized imagining of Lucie's life on a farm in Troy, NY.

Eventually they heard that the tide was turning and that the emigres were returning to France. Moreover, laws had been put into place that stated that landowners had to be in France within a certain period of time to reclaim their estates, so the family sold the farm and set off for France. Frederic, a French loyalist through and through, left happily, but Lucie had loved her time in America and would probably have been happy to stay there.

When trouble started again, the family had to move to England for a while. They were able to return to France and luckily, were on the good side of Napoleon; in fact, Lucie's half-sister Fanny (from her father's second marriage) married one of Napoleon's closest aides (this was beneficial to Lucie but eventually not for Fanny, as she and her husband and children had to follow Napoleon into both of his exiles). Frederic pursued numerous diplomatic positions, with Lucie even pleading with Napoleon himself to get a spot in a desirable location. Lucie was never shy about stepping up to get what she wanted (in fact at one of Frederic's diplomatic posts he received a poor report that included amongst other things the note that he was ruled by his "domineering wife") and rarely felt inferior to anyone, it seemed. She was thoroughly impressed by Napoleon, though, and while she never was thrilled by any kind of court life, she eagerly took any opportunity she could to see the Emperor.

Despite obviously having Napoloeon's favor, Lucie and Frederic were able to neatly slip to the winning side again when the Bourbons regained the throne of France. Frederic had (under various rulers) dipolomatic posts in Brussels and different parts of Italy. Lucie liked some places better than others, but her main interest was in raising her children. She was pregnant ten times and only four children made it into adulthood, and then only one of those four survived his twenties.

I've already written much more than I should have (and hopelessly bored you, I'm afraid). Moorehead's version of events is much better than mine. As I said, she understands how fashion and people's social lives can instruct on larger matters of the state and human condition (did I really just say "human condition?" How meaningless that sounds. But yet I think you know what I mean). She brings the Revolution and the Terror horribly to life. The more I read about the French Revolution the more I am convinced that there were really no winners, and worse, neither side was worth rooting for. Both groups were rotten in their own way. The ancien regime had put the lower classes into an intolerable condition where there was no escape from poverty and despair. But as dimwitted and frivolous as many members of the nobility were, no one deserves to be treated the way they were by the raging mobs.

When I read Moorehead's descriptions of the escapes Lucie made and the brushes with she and her family had, it again made me question my own fortitude. How much of a survivor would I be? As I have said before, the lives we lead are so easy and so comfortable. I--nor anyone I know, and I don't run with a particularly posh crowd--don't know if I would have the ability to do things like hide in a small shed for days or live in a wet forest, or run for my life. Of course, like anyone, I would like to think I would be able to do whatever is necessary, but I can't guaranteee it. And while I wish I did know the answer to that question, I have to say that I much more would prefer not to be tested, because that would only happen if this world was turned upside down--as Lucie's was.

I had to wait about six months to get a copy of "Dancing to the Precipice" from the library and there were times when I looked at my list of reserves and thought of crossing it off. So many biographies or historical works about women are written almost as if the author is trying to create a trashy romance novel. The writing is melodramatic, there is more about love than thought, and I often come out feeling insulted, as if some publisher felt that the only way women can read nonfiction is if it's written like a cheap paperback. But Moorehead's book is about not just Lucie, but the time and places in which she lived. It was a compelling read most of the time and I'm glad I held on and waited for it.