THE BLACK SWAN (2010)

Since I imagine The Black Swan will be in the latest edition of The 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die book and I watched it this week, I feel pretty safe in adding it here. However, I’m not sure what to say about this film, so I’ll just ask some friends and family who have seen it what they think and follow with my comments about their comments.

My niece: It was really strange. Not what I had in mind. Some of those images were just creepy, creepy, creepy…But I liked it. (I'm glad you seemed to have learned that creepy isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It’s an important life lesson.)

My other niece: I thought it was the coolest move ever! But I could have done without the scene with the old man playing with himself on the subway. (I too will have nightmares about that one.)

My cousin from Georgia: Can’t they make any movies today without bad language? With Natalie Portman in it, I was expecting something more along the lines of Star Wars. (I may have to deduct points from you for making a reference to The Phantom Menace.)

My son: Didn’t really care for it. I prefer anime. (We’ll watch Metropolis or My Neighbor Totoro next, I promise)

An online friend: I must be getting old. I can remember when Barbara Hershey was such a cutie! Now she’s playing parts like this as if she were doing an imitation of the mother in Carrie! (I asked him what he thought of the movie overall, and he said he found it very creative, but didn’t like the scene with the old man on the subway. Note: Since it seems to be a consensus, I would ask Darren Aronofsky for his next film to omit all scenes with old men diddling with themselves.)

Movie buff friend at work: Aronofsky goes from a film about the psyche of washed-up professional wrestler in The Wrestler to an up and coming ballet star in The Black Swan with only mixed results. (I asked him to embellish and he would not.)

My best friend: Not really mind kind of flick, Sam. My old lady just insisted on watching, and seeing as it was her birthday and all, I agreed. So much dancing. So boring. But then comes the scene with the two women. You know, he, he he. When they venture to the island of lesbos? Now that’s my kind of movie! Don’t quote me on that. My old lady gets jealous, you know. (My best friend calls everyone Sam. His wife actually left him months ago, so his comments about his “old lady” concern me greatly.)

My wife: Why do you keep talking about The Black Swan? I think you’re just obsessed with Natalie Portman. Maybe you should just off and marry Natalie Portman! But when you do, don’t forget to give her this…(My wife then broke a bottle of Michelob over my head and stuck the jagged edge of it solidly into my gut. Despite the pain, I have to admit it took me to a level of artistic consciousness that I have never attained before.)

SHOCK CORRIDOR (1963), ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO'S NEST (1975), THE SNAKEPIT (1948)

My God. I’m in a straight jacket. I’ve got to remember what I’m doing here.
Kind of blurry. Coming into focus now. There’s the doctor. Doctor…Ratched. And there’s the other doctor. The big Indian, Dr. Bromden. Wait. Except he wasn’t always a doctor. He was a patient! And Doctor Ratchett. I thought she was a nurse! They’ve been in front of me before, but they were different people weren’t they?

“I see you are awake now. And much calmer I hope. I’m sorry you had to be sedated and restrained,” Doctor Ratched gave me a malevolent smile as she turned towards her colleague.

Why was I here? If only I could remember. If only I could give it voice.

“Dr. Bromden,” she asked her colleague. “Do you think we need the restraints on this patient any longer?”

Bromden shook his head before walking over to me and unbuckling my straight jacket. He offered me a stick of Juicy Fruit. I declined. Seemingly perturbed, he stuck the piece in his own mouth and began chewing with gusto.

“Now, Mr. Librarian,” she began.

I don’t know why she called me a librarian. I was a reporter. That’s right. I’m undercover in this place. I’m here to find out who killed Sloan! I can’t let her find out why I’m here or I’ll be finished.

“Now, Mr. Librarian,” she repeated. What’s all this you were going on about earlier about trying to find the real murderer of someone named Sloan?”

I guess I was too late. I must have sang like a canary while they had me under.

“We have no records of anyone here named Sloan, do we Doctor Bromden?”

The big Indian shrugged, indicating agreement with her assessment.

“Let me clarify things for you. You were put in this hospital because you were in front of a movie theater ranting about why the movie going public spent ninety million dollars last week for a Pirates of the Caribbean movie and you seemed outraged that they weren’t more discriminating in how they spent their money. You were going on and on…it was a real scene. You created quite a ruckus.”

I wiped my now free hand against my forehead. I didn’t do any of what she just described. I admit to having had these thoughts, but they were internal. How could she have known? What kind of mind games were they playing in this place? I tried to respond, but I still couldn’t find my voice. Why couldn’t I speak? Why now?

Doctor Ratched winced as if irritated by my inability to speak.

“Cat still got you tongue? Your record shows you have been in therapy over the last few months for, what was it again? What does the record show Doctor Bromden?”

The big Indian handed her my file.

“You were going through therapy while watching Ingmar Bergman movies and they concluded you were eventually going to have a breakdown. Well, It seems like you had one all right.”

She was lying. Those psychiatrists I had been seeing gave me a clean bill of health. I wasn’t sick! This was a cover-up! This was some kind of conspiracy!

The doctor pulled up a chair next to me and began whispering in my ear.

“We can help you. But you’ve got to cooperate. This whole business about someone named Sloan is just a fabrication that generated from you psychosis. Isn’t it?”

I looked at her defiantly and shook my head. She backed away and looked at me with disdain. Yet there was a noticeable gleam in her eye as she began to speak again.

“We may need to administer stronger measures to make you see the light. Or should I should say to make you well again.”

Doctor Bromden picked up a pillow and began lumbering in my direction.

“No, Doctor Bromden. I didn’t mean that. Have a seat while I finish.”

The big Indian did as she said but not before throwing the pillow down and huffing disapproval.

“As I was saying,” she continued. “You see that door to the side of us? Do you know what happens through that door?”

I looked at her and tried to mouth the word lobotomy. I still hadn’t gotten my voice but she was able to read my lips. She threw back her head and laughed.

“Oh, please. Lobotomy? Are you serious? And I’m not talking about shock treatment or solitary confinement either. What I’m talking about, my friendly librarian is…is…Nymphomaniacs!

“Nymphos!” I said finally getting my voice at last.

“Well, so you can talk.” Doctor Ratched replied.

She moved closer to me again and began to whisper in that voice that sounded like fingernails being scrapped down a chalkboard.

“And not just any nymphos,” she continued. “Young, fertile nymphos who haven’t had a man in a long time. They’d just love to get their hands on a friendly...neighborhood...librarian. There’s no telling what they’d do to you.”

“You think I’m afraid of your torture chamber?" I said. "You don’t think I know about Sloan?”

I rose with the intention of putting my hands around her neck and squeezing the life out of her but a moment of revelation stopped me.

“Wait a minute?” I yelled. “You killed Sloan! He was going to blow the whistle on you. He was going to-”

Before I could continue, Dr. Bromden grabbed me from behind and lifted me off my feet. He slung me towards the door. I slammed into it headfirst and plummeted through to the other side. I scrambled back up to get the hell out of there, but the doctors had locked already locked me in.

I turned around and there they were.

Nymphos. Maybe a dozen or more.

They began to form a circle around me. They looked familiar. I recognized them alright. They all looked like Olivia deHavilland! They began singing. One Olivia sang I Like Coffee, I Like Tea. Another Olivia, it must have been the Gone With the Wind Olivia, began to whistle Dixie,another Olivia sang My Bonnie in a Scottish brogue, and yet another sang Sweet Georgia Brown as she began to dance the Charleston. They converged on me. As they neared me, they began to make humming-bee-like sounds. They pushed me to the ground and began to paw at me…I managed to get away for a moment and struggled to get to a wall. There was no other door. It was most strange. The Olivias were all going to be back on me soon, yet it was like they were all looking at me from far away. This room, this Ward 12, this Nympho room was like a deep hole and I was being watched from above. I felt like Indiana Jones and I was in a…a… snakepit…The Olivas were coming back to me. I couldn’t maintain consciousness…I…I…Will this nightmare ever end? I must…sleep…Can’t stay awake…

My God. I’m in a straight jacket. I’ve got to remember what I’m doing here.
Kind of blurry. Coming into focus now. There’s the doctor. Doctor…McMurphy. And there’s the other doctor. The little Italian, Dr. Martini. Wait. Except he wasn’t always a doctor. He was a patient. And Doctor McMurphy. I thought he was a patient, too! They’ve been in front of me before, but they were different people weren’t they?

THE PRODUCERS (1968)

I thought it was odd when I first heard they were making a Broadway musical adaptation of my favorite Mel Brooks movie, The Producers. * But let me tell you, it’s going to be a hit! **

You will not see the hippie Hitler (played by Dick Shawn*** in the original) in the musical remake. I guess Mel thought the character was too dated. Of course, he’s my favorite character in the original and I kept waiting for him to come on stage in the updated version…but, alas, it was not to be. ****

Why do I keep talking about the musical? I guess because I just watched it. I watched both of them, the 1968 The Producers and the musical based on the 1968 The Producers. ***** To tell you the truth, I’m a little Springtime for Hitlered****** out right now. But if you are a fan of the musical, or if you aren’t, don’t forget to check out the original ******* because Zero Mostel is great! ********


*My favorite after Young Frankenstein, Blazing Saddles, High Anxiety and Spaceballs. Well, The Producers is probably tied with Spaceballs.

**I know, it’s already been a hit for years. Let me at least pretend its opening night, Okay?

***Mr. Shawn was also very funny in It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. He was just a funny guy all around.

****Having the gay director play Hitler in the new version was still pretty funny.

*****And not to be confused with the 80’s band called The Producers, who did a couple of songs I like including She, Sheila. I think I’m getting off topic.

******Yet over the years, I admit to singing Springtime for Hitler to myself more than a few times.

*******Is original even the proper term? The Broadway show isn’t a remake. It’s a musical adaptation. My Fair Lady isn’t a remake of Pygamalion exactly. Is it?

******** I'll say it again. Zero Mostel is great!

SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARFS (1937)

I’ve seen a number of the classic Hollywood movies of the 1930’s.But going over some of the titles in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die book, I noticed more than a few omissions from my movie viewing resume. For the past two weeks I've tried to try to fill in some of those gaps as well as re-watch some old favorites. I’ve listed my expectations for each film going in and stated whether these expectations are reached or not. And I gave each film my Elisha Cook Jr. supporting player award strictly for the reason that I thought it would be fun to do so. It was and I gained a new appreciation for movies of this era also. And my fourteenth and final entry for this segment is...

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)

Expectations:I don't think I've seen this all the way through since...could it be the 60's?

After viewing:If I thought Frankenstein was criticism proof, this one is probably even more etched on the movie going public. The dwarfs are a magnifcient creation, the witch is dastardly evil, and Snow, though not overly complex, fills the heroine role nicely. Only the prince, practially edited out of the whole picture, comes up short. But I guess you need him to fill the prophecy.

And the Elisha Cook Jr. supporting player award goes to...Grumpy. It's tempting to give this to the Queen/Witch who set the standard for those evil Disney villains to come. But it's really Grumpy who holds the piece together. Differentiates himself from the other dwarfs by initially being so hostile to Snow White. So when he does come around to Snow, it is that much more meaningful. And when Grumpy weeps after Snow dies, well...I'm going to need a tissue just thinking about it.

BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1935)

I’ve seen a number of the classic Hollywood movies of the 1930’s.But going over some of the titles in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die book, I noticed more than a few omissions from my movie viewing resume. For two weeks I’m going to try to fill in some of those gaps as well as re-watch some old favorites. I’ll list my expectations for each film going in and state whether these expectations are reached or not. And I’ll give each film my Elisha Cook Jr. supporting player award strictly for the reason that I think it would be fun to do so.

Bride of Frankenstein (1935)
Expectations: See expectations for yesterday’s Frankenstein listing and throw in a hissing bride, a blind hermit and a little Shelley and Byron to give the proceedings some class.

After viewing: I have to call into question the basic structure of my memory palace when it comes to The Bride of Frankenstein. I’ve certainly seen it, But only vaguely remember Dr. Frankenstein’s mentor/associate/rival/villain Dr. Pretorious. I don’t remember Pretorious’s experiment of growing little people in specimen jars, either. Many film historians prefer this one to the original. I’m a little torn. Boris Karloff pulls off his fractured speech scenes well, but I still like the rawness of the original. So it goes.

And the Elisha Cook Jr. supporting player award goes to…O. P. Heggie as the blind hermit. O.P. Heggie? Why would I choose O. P. Heggie over such supporting stalwarts as Ernest Thayer as the sinister Dr. Pretorios! Or Elsa Lanchester, who plays Mary Shelley and the Bride? Or the always funny comic relief actress Una O’Connor? Or again to the ubiquitous Dwight Frye? Or even to cameos by future character actor Hall of Famers John Carradine and Walter Brennan?

Heggie (as the blind hermit who befriends the moster) has only one scene. As audio commentator Scott MacQueen points out, this scene could easily lapse from being touching and giving important insight into the monster’s character into a Mel Brooks parody forty-five years too soon. But the scene works, and credit is often given to Karloff, but give the kindly Heggie a nod, too.

FRANKENSTEIN (1931)

I’ve seen a number of the classic Hollywood movies of the 1930’s.But going over some of the titles in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die book, I noticed more than a few omissions from my movie viewing resume. For two weeks I’m going to try to fill in some of those gaps as well as re-watch some old favorites. I’ll list my expectations for each film going in and state whether these expectations are reached or not. And I’ll give each film my Elisha Cook Jr. supporting player award strictly for the reason that I think it would be fun to do so.

Frankenstein (1931)
Expectations: Seeing this one again elicits plenty of expectations and memories such as,
1. Boris Karloff billed as ?
2. Colin Clive yelling (It’s Alive! I’ts Alive. Now I know what it’s like to be God!)
3. Those villagers and their handy torches at ready to change down any monsters that trouble their village
4. Frankenstein’s memorable growl
5. My Aurora monster model of the Frankenstein monster, which I still have.
6. That great Dr. Frankenstein laboratory with those flashing mechanisms that are all quite important I’m sure!
7. The hunchbacked dwarf, Fritz
8. The monster’s fiery death, which of course he escapes from for the next film.
9. The burgomaster. The only other time I think of burgomasters is if I see I rerun of Santa Claus is Coming to Town.
10. And of course, a lot of Young Frankenstein references.
11. Oh yeah, and little girls still don’t float like flowers.

After viewing: Frankenstein is almost criticism proof. It is just too iconic.

One note on the Karloff vs. Lugosi debate. Despite Lugosi’s kitsch appeal and portrayal in Tim Burton’s film Ed Wood, (The credits state Lugosi memorabilia outsells Karloff memorabilia two to one.) the clear winner in this battle is Karloff, through memorable performances as heavies in films like The Body Snatcher and Tower of London to his last major film Peter Bogdanavich’s Targets, where he essentially plays himself, to the voice of The Grinch That Stole Christmas…Karoloff is the man. I'm glad I could clear this up.

And the Elisha Cook Jr. supporting player award goes to…Dwight Frye as Fritz, the hunchbacked dwarf who takes pleasure in tormenting the monster. I’ve given Mr. Frye a tribute on these pages before for Renfeld in Dracula (1001 Dracula entry from 1/12/10) but he’s the clear winner here not only for Fritz, for his return as a different but equally creepy assistant in Bride of Frankenstein.