You Must Remember This

I was actually going to watch a truly terrible movie tonight...something or other from 1956 starring Tuesday Weld, with Alan Freed, entitled Rock, Rock, Rock, Rock...but then I read the description more closely and realized that it didn't contain the actual 1956 rock & roll I was hoping for, so the hell with it.

So, after another nicely productive day (there is now enough food in my house - including the ham - to feed a small army), I just ate something deeply silly (oh, all right...it was Pizza Rolls with pepperoni) for which I had a sudden yen. Hey...some of us just can't be all that nice and organic and healthful and like that ALL the time. The system needs an occasional infusion of total junk. I mean, really. How else could you really appreciate those good foods there? It's kind of like treating yourself to a real badass rotten boyfriend every now and then. You appreciate the good ones so much more.

Anyway, so I spent the evening wandering around through YouTube, which, when I'm really bored, is a perfectly wonderful way to waste a whole lot of time. I ran across some absolute treasures, such as Ethel Merman singing There's No Business Like Show Business with the Muppets, and then I went to check my news sites (newspaperman's granddaughter here...I am a newshound), and discovered on CNN a link to ew.com - you know, Entertainment Weekly.

It was a slide show of classic movies that various viewers had absolutely hated, and it was quite interesting. Citizen Kane, for instance. I am one of those who never bought into the Citizen Kane thing; it's just not a movie I particularly care for. And the comment from a viewer was EXACTLY what I've always thought about...said viewer remarked that "I've known what Rosebud is since I was six." Precisely. Now The Third Man...wow. I can watch that forever.

I also agreed completely with the haters of 2001. I have never been so bored in my life. Just hated the thing. And Love Story. I'm sorry. I made the terrible mistake of reading the Mad Magazine parody of Love Story before seeing the movie, with the predictable result that the actual movie gave me the giggles. Sample from Mad: "She's dying from movie disease. That's where you get more beautiful the closer you get to death." You see the problem. And Dr. Zhivago. That movie gave me the worst cricked neck EVER. This is because I saw it in London, and in those days the first few rows of the movie theatre were a smoking section...and I ended up in the front row. Ouch. And The Exorcist was forever ruined for me because Linda Blair actually did a sequel to it called Repossessed, with Leslie Nielson, which is the funniest thing ever (that Linda Blair is a really good sport)...and there went any hope of ever taking the original seriously. Do find Repossessed...it's hilarious. And I do understand why some people truly hate Sound of Music, but I did the show on stage quite a lot (the nuns' music needs second contraltos, of which I am one, so I kept getting cast in it) and so am rather nostalgic about it. (Don't ever go near me when I'm watching it, because I insist on singing along.)

But there are some movies that are absolutely detested that just flummox me. (Isn't flummox a wonderful word? You can just sort of see the confusion...) The Wizard of Oz? Good heavens. I can so clearly remember seeing that for the first time probably around the very early '50s, and being absolutely gobsmacked at the fact that when Dorothy was in Kansas, where everything was flat and gray, the movie was black and white, and then when she lands in Oz, it bursts into color. That was the most exciting thing I'd ever seen. And there are people who hate An Affair
To Remember. Now, I'm sorry, but that's just terrible. I distinctly remember seeing that at the Esquire Theatre on Oak Street in Chicago, across the street from my father's antique shop, and oh, my God, I was a wreck. (Hey, Anonymous, weren't you with me? I think you were.) I still can't watch the thing without Kleenex. I can thoroughly understand that it's not exactly a man's movie, but come on...it's the most romantic movie EVER. (Yeah, and I love Sleepless in Seattle, too...the first time I saw it I was jumping up and down at the end, just WILLING for them not to miss each other on the Empire State Building.)

And Singin' in the Rain. WHAT? Hating Singin' in the Rain is like stomping on puppies. People, it's GENE KELLY. Sheesh. And Breakfast at Tiffany's. Oh, my God, the end in the rain, when she finds Cat...excuse me, more Kleenex.

All of which goes to show that A. there's no accounting for taste, and B. I need to get out more and stop screwing around on the computer.

Love, Wendy