Project Film School: 1982 — A Good Year for the Jew! (Part 1)

 

"I'm not an actor, I'm a movie star!"

I have jumped to the 80s for my next two films. As it turns out, both take place in the 1950s and, interesting to those of us of the Tribe, feature lead characters who are Jewish. Their being Jewish helps define who they are, but it doesn't limit them. (Three-dimensional Jewish characters in films not directly about Judaism? Always nice.) Both films are also quite excellent to my newbie eyes, and I'm ready to throw down some thoughts. First up: My Favorite Year.

My Favorite Year (1982) - How have I lived this long without having seen this film? Incredibly funny, clever, and sweet, this comedy has now wedged itself into my list of favorites. The film tells the story of Benjy Stone (Mark Linn-Baker), a young writer for a variety show in 1954 during the early days of television. Benjy is tasked with keeping an eye on a mostly "has been" matinee idol, Alan Swann (Peter O'Toole), who is an upcoming guest of the show and a known drunk. Thus begins an adventure that takes Benjy and Alan from New York clubs to Benjy's family's Brooklyn apartment, with quite a bit of troublemaking and drinking in-between. Ultimately, each character finds what he needs, but not necessarily where he expects it.

The variety show at the center of the film is based on Sid Caesar's Your Show of Shows. Mel Brooks, an executive producer of the film, was a writer on Caesar's show when matinee idol Errol Flynn was booked as a guest. Nothing crazy happened when Flynn came on the show, but it became the spark for the premise of My Favorite Year. In fact, several of the film's characters are inspired by actual staff from Your Show of Shows, including Benjy (a combination of Mel Brooks, Woody Allen, and Neil Simon) and King Kaiser (representing Sid Caesar). So, why am I over the moon about this film? The same simple reasons that make any film great: the writing and the production.

The writing: Fast paced, smart, and hilarious, the script manages to hit the mark on everything. As I watched, it almost felt play-like (and, variety show-like, of course) with its quick zingers and overlapping ideas and dialogue. Some films are meant to be cinematic art masterpieces—bringing you into a place and time through imagery and expansive scenery. The art direction and cinematography in My Favorite Year are not lacking—they immediately put you into the writer's room and clubrooms of the 50s—but at its core this is writer's film. Even the physical comedy begins and ends with words. And these words bring us to the biggest element of any successful comedy: quotability. Any film or TV show, especially a comedy, lives on through the continued quoting of its dialogue. I have wasted/enjoyed much time quoting my favorite movies and TV shows with friends. And if a line can get you laughing again each time you hear it, it is always worth repeating (and rewatching the film or show). One of the best from My Favorite Year involves a moment when Alan Swann wanders into a women's restroom. Already in there is crotchety costume mistress Lil (played by Your Show of Shows alum Selma Diamond.)

Lil: This is for ladies only!

Alan Swann: [unzipping his fly] So is this, ma'am, but every now and then I have to run a little water through it.

The production: From its directing to its acting, from its cinematography to its set design, it made me believe at every moment that what I watched was authentic. I was particularly taken with Peter O'Toole, who earned an Oscar nomination for his portrayal of the charming and troubled Swann. Ultimately, you expect any film to transport you to some time and place, but the best ones engross you in their world so well that you look up after the end credits and find yourself momentarily startled that you are no longer in that world. I guess my adoration of this film can be summed up by a line from the character Herb Lee (in his only audible line in the film): "Oh God, this makes me happy!"

Next up: Diner (1982)

Project Film School (or, How I'm Adding Some Class Back Into My TV Viewing)

School is in session.

I've decided to educate myself about American cinema. For a variety of reasons (wasted youth, television degree, job, kids, reality shows), I've missed out great films that I know I should see. But now, thanks to my DVR and Turner Classic Movies, I'm going to correct this travesty. And so begins…Project Film School.

Lesson 1: Notorious (1946) – This Alfred Hitchcock film starring Ingrid Bergman, Cary Grant, and Claude Rains is the perfect start to my education. It is a thriller about a young woman, Alicia Huberman (Bergman), who agrees to infiltrate the ranks of her father's Nazi friends in Brazil. Grant plays Devlin, Alicia's spy agency handler. Although he is falling in love with her, he initially chooses his duty over his feelings and pushes her into the arms of Alexander Sebastian (Rains), her father's old friend who once loved her and who is now plotting some unknown Nazi evil. Summaries and production notes abound online, so I won't describe the plot any further. Here instead are my various thoughts as a first-time viewer.

It may be Hitchcock's style or the style of the era, but I felt that parts of the film skimmed over the events that were happening. In particular, Alicia and Devlin's time in Brazil while they are awaiting their assignment passes by in moments, and yet we learn that they have fallen in love during this time. The film clocks in at about 100 minutes, so perhaps it's the fault of the bloated films of today that I expect each moment and event to be spelled out for me. Whatever the reason, I wasn't completely engaged during the first part of the film. But then, from the moment Alicia steals Alexander's basement key (where they search for the Nazis' secrets) until Alexander is left to face his Nazi cohorts after he has exposed their secrets, the tension level builds gradually scene by scene, making it impossible to look away.

I read somewhere that Bergman's character was written as a frivolous party girl who drank and slept around. Although Alicia is definitely not presented as a saint, the way Bergman portrayed her was softened to meet the Hollywood code. Much more was made of her drinking than her bed-hopping to signify her looseness, although she did indicate that her conquest of Alexander (as part of her assignment) was just one more name added to her list. Bergman played to all aspects of Alicia's character; it wasn't hard to believe that she could be beautiful and classy as well a slutty alcoholic. But it would have been interesting to see how, or if, she might play the character differently if freed from the era's production codes. And, as a result, how that might change the way we see Alicia's transformation from party girl to strong woman.

Grant's character appears much less complex at first—Devlin is a man with no particular past to define him. However, his attempts to balance his spy duties with his growing love for Alicia are anything but straightforward. As he pushes her into sleeping with Alexander in order to gain his confidence, Devlin refuses to tell Alicia whether he cares that she is with another man, and then later demeans her for being the loose woman everyone says she is. Of course my first reaction was, "Asshole!" But, after some righteous fuming, I realized it's not fair to write Devlin off too quickly. Could he have pushed her away so cruelly in order to protect her during her difficult assignment? If she is still in love with him, she might be more vulnerable and risk exposing herself to danger during the mission. Conversely, could he have been protecting his own heart by pushing her away? After all, the assignment was forcing him to stand aside as the woman he loved gave up her body and soul to the service of her country. It isn't until the very end that we learn he actually does love her as he rescues her from near death. Perhaps if the movie was shot today, it would include another 20 minutes in which Devlin confides to a colleague or bartender about the depths of his feelings for Alicia and why he must hide them from her. But, I think I prefer it being left to my own interpretation.

And now, I've checked Notorious off my list. I can finally stop singing Duran Duran's "Notorious" in my head (and sometimes out loud). Next up: My Favorite Year.