Sunday, August 4, 2019

And The Oscar Goes To...

While some passions and resentments never fade, many memories become fuzzier over time. One of the hardest lessons to learn is that the feelings of exhilaration that accompany infatuation don't always survive living with the object of one's affection. About a year after I had moved out and gotten an apartment of my own, Chuck Cleaves (the friend I followed out to California) suggested we have lunch together. That day he brought me a beautiful white owl figurine and jokingly said "It's something to remember me by."

By the time Chuck committed suicide, we rarely saw each other. He had convinced himself that no gay man should live past 30 because, to his mind, by that time they would have done everything imaginable. The drugs he took reaffirmed his thinking. When I visited him in the psych ward at Saint Francis Memorial Hospital (his best friend had insisted that he be checked in as a danger to himself because he could not be left alone), Chuck's physical features were the same as always. But the anger, paranoia, and vitriol spewing from his mouth were nothing like the man I had known. My friend, Marvin Feldman, took one look at my face and asked if I was going to be okay. "Yeah," I quietly answered. "Let's go get something to eat."

On the night Larry Long called to inform me of Chuck's death ("He finally did it"), I had no tears to shed. If anything, I was relieved that, at last, he had succeeded in killing himself and was no longer in such emotional pain. With enough separation between us, I relied on the continued passage of time and distance to help me remember the happier moments we shared rather than the alienation and resentment that ended our friendship.

Chuck Cleaves in 1972

In a recent Facebook post, gay activist and author Cleve Jones wrote:
"When we are young, one year is a very long time and a decade seems like forever. But as we age, years go by in the blink of an eye and memories of decades past (both joyous and painful) remain vivid. I've been lectured lately by some who prefer not to consider their favorite candidates' past positions. They say, 'Oh that was so long ago.' But for me, it's like yesterday. Forgive? Possibly. Forget? Never."
It's easy to think of Andrew Lloyd-Webber's hit song from 1981's Cats ("Memory") when reflecting on the past. Or Stephen Sondheim's "Old Friends" from 1981's Merrily We Roll Along. However, I prefer to focus on the emotional magic and messages of cockeyed optimism contained in two of Jerry Herman's lesser-known songs from 1967's problematic musical, "Dear World."








There's a world of difference between objective and subjective perspectives. As time passes, some people tend to remember certain moments through rose-tinted lenses while others retain a desperate grasp on reality. With recent demonstrations of how technology allows people to create "deepfake" videos, we're entering a cowardly new world of revisionist history which invokes memories of the famous marketing slogan "Is it real or is it Memorex?"


Whose memory is really real? Whose memory has been "adjusted" for the purposes of better storytelling? As Chico Marx famously asked in 1933's Duck Soup: "Well, who ya gonna believe? Me or your own eyes?"

Two impressive new movies that were screened during the 2019 San Francisco Jewish Film Festival challenge audiences to consider which type of narrative experience they prefer: a fact-based documentary or the intrigue and emotional elements of a docudrama.

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Documentaries depend upon a great deal of research combined with an editor's skill at organizing a huge amount of facts into a compelling story. When An Inconvenient Truth (Al Gore's eye-opening documentary about the perils of global warming) was released in 2006, many climate change deniers ridiculed its inherent alarmism. Today, I'm sure that quite a few of those people are eating their words.


The power of a "Just the facts, ma'am" style of storytelling is that it can make people think about someone (or something) from a fresh perspective after digesting a heaping dose of information that had remained out of their reach for quite some time. Written, directed, and produced by James L. Freedman, Carl Laemmle is just that kind of documentary. As it traces the life story of the man who had an entrepreneur's eye for opportunity, worked on more than 400 films and founded Universal Studios, it demonstrates how an immigrant's toughness, talent, and tenacity can make an impressive contribution to American culture.

Albert Einstein with Carl Laemmle

Born into a Jewish family in the town of Laupheim (in the German kingdom of Württemberg) on January 17, 1867, Laemmle followed in his older brother's footsteps by traveling to the United States in 1884. After putting down roots in Chicago, he became a naturalized citizen in 1889. Five years later, while working as a bookkeeper for a clothing company in Wisconsin, he introduced an impressive new advertising style.

Two decades after arriving in the United States, Laemmle quit his job and, fascinated with the popularity of early motion pictures, purchased a nickelodeon in Chicago (a move which launched him down a self-made path that would lead to becoming one of America’s most important pioneers of film). As he purchased more and more nickelodeons and began to recognize the need for greater control over the distribution of films, he created the Laemmle Film Service. In 1908 he used the Sherman Antitrust Act of 1890 to take on Thomas Edison’s growing monopoly on film distribution. His actions presaged the rise of independent filmmakers and distributors as well as the use of celebrity photographs in advertising. Upon moving to Hollywood, Laemmle founded Universal Pictures and built on the concept of an industrial town by creating Universal City (a real estate vision aimed at catering to the film industry).

Poster art for Carl Laemmle's Universal City

Following the recent death of Broadway producer/director Hal Prince, many theatre people have commented on how generous Prince was in opening doors for young talent. While his artistic generosity was learned in the theatre world, it follows in Laemmle's footsteps. In addition to hiring Walt Disney, John Ford, Irving Thalberg, and Laemmle's cousin, William Wyler, early in their film careers, he also threw his support behind female directors (Lois Weber received the highest wage among directors who were working for Laemmle).

Director William Wyler with his cousin, producer Carl Laemmle

Today, Carl Laemmle is famously remembered as the producer of such silent film classics as 1923's The Hunchback of Notre Dame, 1925's The Phantom of The Opera, and 1928's The Man Who Laughs. Under his leadership, Universal Studios won the 1930 Academy Award for Best Picture for All Quiet on the Western Front.

Carl Laemmle holding the 1930 Academy Award for Best Picture
for All Quiet on the Western Front

Following the advent of talkies, Laemmle's son, Carl. Jr., produced 1931's Dracula and Frankenstein as well as 1936's Show Boat, but he and his father were forced out of the company in 1936 as a result of bad management and financial pressures brought on by the Great Depression.

Amelia Earhart with Carl Laemmle

Shortly before the horrors of Kristallnacht erupted in November 1938, Carl Laemmle began using his fortune to help Jews from his home town of Laupheim (as well as friends and colleagues in other parts of Europe) to flee the Nazis. Though unable to save the 937 passengers aboard the M.S. St. Louis (which departed Hamburg on May 13, 1939 on what subsequently became known as the Voyage of the Damned), by the time of his death on September 24, 1939, Laemmle had saved more than 300 Jewish families.

At a time when the film industry's sexual predators and painful lack of ethics have come under sharp criticism, Freedman's documentary about Carl Laemmle demonstrates that a powerful man can remain a mensch while building a legendary career. Here's the trailer:


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In the past few decades, Hollywood has gone into overdrive trying to squeeze new revenue streams from old franchises. The Disney empire leads the way with its ability to transform such popular animated feature films as Beauty and the Beast, Tarzan, The Lion King, Frozen, Aladdin, and The Little Mermaid into screen-to-stage musicals (as well as adaptations of live-action films such as Mary Poppins and Newsies). Other studios have remade such classics as South Pacific, The Manchurian Candidate, The Fly, 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea, Ben-Hur, Godzilla, The Hound of the Baskervilles, and Anna Karenina.

A beautifully lit moment from Curtiz

With a cool, smart jazz score by Gábor Subicz and achingly gorgeous black-and-white cinematography by Zoltán Dévényi, Curtiz is an exquisite new noir film. Directed and co-written by Tamas Yvan Topolanszky, this impressive artistic achievement takes a 1942 film directed by Michael Curtiz and turns it upside down and inside out by focusing on behind-the-scenes tensions during the making of Casablanca (which famously starred Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman, Paul Heinreid, Peter Lorre, Claude Rains, Sydney Greenstreet, and Conrad Veidt) rather than trying to improve on the original.

Christopher Krieg as Conrad Veidt in Curtiz

This hits home in a peculiar way for me since I usually find that performers who impersonate great talents (or "cover" their songs while mimicking their mannerisms and vocal inflections) rarely possess the same sparkle, charisma, talent, intuition, or core essence that transformed the original actors and singers into major artists. Topolanszky's novel approach to honoring a great filmmaker (who directed close to 200 films and received the Academy Award for Best Director for his work on Casablanca) is refreshing, challenging, and a magnificent feast for the eyes.

A beautifully lit moment from Curtiz

A Hungarian Jew who struggled to rescue relatives whose lives were being threatened by the Nazis during World War II, Curtiz (Ferenc Lengyel) managed to bring his mother to the United States but could not prevent his sister, brother-in-law, and their three children from perishing in Auschwitz. As producer Hal Wallis noted:
"He had a thirst for knowledge; he wanted to see the poolrooms, the flophouses, the Chinese sections, the slums -- everything strange, exotic, and seedy, so that he could add to the knowledge that gave his pictures their amazing degree of realism. He was a superb director, with amazing command of lighting, mood, and action, who could handle any kind of picture: melodrama, comedy, Western, historical epic, or love story."
Evelin Dobos (Kitty) and Declan Hannigan
(Johnson) in a scene from Curtiz

A notorious perfectionist and workaholic, Curtiz was discovered by Jack Warner, who would subsequently describe him as "Warner Brothers' greatest director." He began directing films in 1912 (during the silent film era) and eventually delivered such screen classics as 1938's The Adventures of Robin Hood, 1939's The Private Lives of Elisabeth and Essex, 1942's Yankee Doodle Dandy, 1952's The Jazz Singer, 1954's The Egyptian and White Christmas, and 1958's King Creole.

Topolanszky's film depicts Curtiz's struggle to maintain order during the filming of Casablanca while under intense pressure from three major sources of stress.
  • Professional: Despite the contributions of such talented writers as Julius Epstein (Yan Feldman) and his twin brother, Philip (Rafael Feldman), Curtiz is often confronted with ridiculous ideas from studio managers and lesser talents. Meanwhile, Ingrid Bergman and Conrad Veidt (Christopher Krieg) are growing increasingly needy and petulant on the set.
  • Political: With Casablanca being filmed during World War II, Curtiz is constantly being bullied by a group of government officials led by Declan Hannigan's serpentine Johnson (a precursor to Stephen Miller), who wants to keep making changes in the screenplay that will help the film industry "Make America Great Again."
  • Personal: Curtiz's cynical American wife, Bess (Nikolett Barabas), suspects the filmmaker of having numerous affairs with younger women and is suspicious of any female on the set. As someone who works long hours at the studio, Curtiz doesn't hesitate to find sexual relief with an attractive waitress (Csenge Tálas). And, as if he didn't have enough to worry about, a mysterious woman from his past (Evelin Dobos) shows up demanding to see him (it turns out that Kitty is Curtiz's estranged daughter from his previous marriage to a Hungarian woman).
Evelin Dobos as Kitty in Curtiz
In Curtiz, the stars of Casablanca become the supporting actors while the creative team, crew, and studio management try to exert their power behind the scenes. Whether it be a jealous wife, a conveniently sexy waitress, or a long-lost daughter; an irritable actor or a sexually frustrated G-man, each character is beautifully filmed in luxurious shades of black and white.

Scott Alexander Young as producer Hal B. Wallis in a scene from Curtiz

Scott Alexander Young makes a strong impression as producer Hal B. Wallis, with Andrew Hefler as studio head Jack L. Warner and Johnny K. Palmer as Warner's masseur. József Gyabronka appears as S.Z. Sakall, along with Roderick Hill as a prop man named Golab and Christine Grace Szarko as Ingrid Bergman's assistant. Björn Freiberg has some nice moments early in the film as a privileged Hollywood brat named Jean-Michel.

As a period drama that recreates a noir sensitivity, Curtiz rests on a solid foundation of craft and visual beauty that puts the "art" back in film arts. Here's the trailer:

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