JAMES GARNER’S DAUGHTER OPENS TRIBUTE SITE TO HER AWESOME FATHER

The Mighty James Garner’s daughter, Gigi Garner (a successful talent manager in her own right), has opened a tribute website to her father. She seems to be updating it fairly regularly with a number of terrific family photos and excerpts from Garners’ new memoir “The Garner Files,” which I loved and reviewed here.

Please check the site out.

Anyone who’s been reading me for any amount of time (or who has seen my Twitter wallpaper), knows of my all-consuming affection for all things James Garner, most especially “The Rockford Files.” You can imagine how much this tweet meant to me.

Tell me how it gets any better than that. You can’t, because it doesn’t.

The only bad news is that if this photo on Ms. Garner’s site displays the actor’s real signature, that means I got robbed on Ebay.

Cue my well-rehearsed of-course-I-got-swindled-again Rockford face.

FINALLY: AN HONEST ASSESSMENT OF HOLLYWOOD’S BOX OFFICE BLUES

With all of Hollywood and most of their sycophant entertainment media blaming box office and DVD woes on everything but bad product, this is the rare break from that absurd narrative:

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#9: The Changeling (1980)

Goddamn sonofabitch, what is it you want?!?

After four months of mourning the loss of his wife and daughter in a freak car accident, composer John Russell (George C. Scott) decides it’s time to put one foot in front of the other with a move to suburban Seattle where he’ll try to piece himself back together emotionally by writing music  and teaching it at the local university. With the help of Clair Norman (Trish Van Devere) and the local Historical Preservation Society, Russell leases a mammoth Victorian-style mansion to lose himself in.

The banging starts almost immediately. A rhythmic, haunting sound that echoes throughout the cavernous house but has no source – no earthly source anyway. Other inexplicable events and strange coincidences convince Russell there’s something supernatural going on and with Clair’s help he engages a psychic to communicate with whatever this is through a séance. The ghost is Joseph, a young boy drowned in a bathtub in the attic near the turn of the 20th Century. From here Russell will pull the thread of an age-old mystery until it unravels dark secrets long held by the city’s richest and most powerful citizens.

Elegant, classy and EXTREMELY well-directed by Peter Medak, the best way to describe the finest haunted house movie ever made is “hair-raising.” The séance sequence alone will have you turning on every light in the house while you speed-dial your mommy and you will never look at a child’s red rubber ball the same way again. With almost no violence and the best scares being solely a product of your manipulated imagination, it doesn’t matter how many times you’ve seen the film, for the last hour the only thing that interrupts the chill down your spine are at least a half-dozen genuinely effective scares that leave you looking like this: (more…)

I don’t know about you, but for me, the Fourth of July goes with war movies — you know, like Al Gore and happy endings.

Maybe it’s the “bombs bursting” in the Star Spangled Banner, or the evening fireworks, or simply that the smell of barbeque in the afternoon reminds me of napalm (actually, it’s either victory, or lighter fluid).

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So when the wiener hits the grill, I’m hankering for some Heartbreak Ridge.  I’m weak-kneed for a little Where Eagles Dare.  I’m jonesing for a piece o’ that… Johnny Tremain.  (You try and find a good war movie that starts with a “J.”)

Most of all, I pine for Patton.  Few celluloid moments can top that iconic opening scene for patriotic bliss.  First off, you’ve got that humongous American flag backdrop.  And you’ve got the general himself in full fruit-salad regalia, delivering the greatest pep talk since Henry V’s St. Crispin’s Day speech. (more…)

I have yet to see a show business person give the acceptance speech they should at the Oscars. Instead, some turn the moment into a narcissistic stunt of protest, global outrage or badge of honor for whatever social injustice they have chosen that year. Rarely do they get it right.

Peachiness is nothing new to Oscar; it has been going on as far back as when those in Tinseltown hid in a Red closet while whispering “Government borscht for all.” The only thing that’s changed is the lack of awareness the winners have to the people who pay for their product, the product being they and their films, and the level of daftness that some accepting the award go to in an effort to feel more powerful than the money and fame they already have. Speaking out can be a good thing, especially when the speakers motive is to lift the awareness of all. Yet in Hollywood, a self-important attitude is hard for most to drop, as is the party line.

Last year, Sean Penn, a man with numerous felony charges including charges of violence against woman, and one who panders to tyrants the world over, preached to Americans after his win of the horrible and hateful state of mind that has fallen upon those who do not see the world as he does. The people of California came to their decision on gay marriage freely by vote, twice. Nevertheless, to Sean Penn the will of the people is only ever served when it slants in his favor or gives way to a photo op of him in a New Orleans boat shotgun in hand. Even his recent Haiti trip ultimately became just a reason for him to have face time on Larry King while hitting “Wiffle Ball” questions out of the park in the hopes of improving his public image, which is limited.

More often winners become so emotional that they lose it on stage like a Springer Spaniel wetting the carpet of its Masters home. Then becoming unable to articulate an awareness needed to give an educated speech in regards to the character they portrayed and how that role may be transferred to a larger audience for greater exposure. The speech they should have given gets lost in the moment of the self. (more…)

There are two television movies in my top ten, here’s the first of them. Best known as George C. Scott’s A Christmas Carol, this is, thus far, the most emotionally satisfying adaptation of the Dickens’ classic yet, thanks to an exceptionally well-written script and, of course, The Mighty George C. Scott, who offers up my favorite portrayal of Scrooge.

Scott’s characterization of Ole’ Ebeneezer is more grounded and less theatrical than the others, especially after the three ghostly visits where the Oscar-winning actor chooses not to transform his character into a completely different person, at least not on the outside. Instead, Scott’s post-visitation Scrooge retains the gruff booming voice and regal presence, with the only visible proof that something’s changed and softened and different found in the old man’s eyes;  a bittersweet mix of joy and love, and most touchingly, regret. (more…)

There was a time when an “adult film” meant a movie by, for and about adults, not a tawdry tale of some tatted-up, dead-eyed 19-year old with daddy issues numbly coupling in front of a video camera for the gratification of leering, backward-hatted frat boys and twitchy loners with DSL.  They don’t make many truly adult films anymore – to see what you are missing, a good place to start is 50 years ago with 1959’s Anatomy of a Murder. 

Let’s start with the cast:  James Stewart.  George C. Scott.  Lee Remick.  Eve Arden.  Ben Gazzara.  Even Big Hollywood’s own Orson Bean in a supporting part as a doctor who plays a key role in the story.  If you love movies, you only needed to get to the word “George” before you were adding it to your NetFlix queue. (more…)

This week’s Sunday Matinee is dedicated to Hollywood.

Because it’s Oscar Sunday and the whole world is focused on the Kodak Theatre and the red carpet parade about to happen, it seems fitting that Broadway throws Hollywood a bone today.  Also, considering every other Broadway show these days seems to be a staged version of a popular movie, (“Shrek”, “Wedding Singer”… Really?) it seems appropriate to shine a little light on a Broadway Musical that has been adapted to film.  (more…)

Noon PST – Anatomy Of A Murder (1959) – A small-town lawyer gets the case of a lifetime when a military man avenges an attack on his wife. Cast: James Stewart, Lee Remick, Ben Gazzara, Arthur O’Connell Dir: Otto Preminger BW-161 mins, TV-PG

Mature, very well-acted, classic courtroom drama, painstakingly directed by Otto Preminger and just as watchable a second time because knowing the outcome of a great film, even one that climaxes with a verdict, takes nothing away from well-crafted characters, top-notch dialogue, and individual scenes that become living things all on their own. (more…)