House Logo
Explore categories +

Doris Day (#110 of 6)

A Lover’s Discourse: Terence Davies’s Films

Comments Comments (...)

A Lover’s Discourse: Terence Davies’s Films
A Lover’s Discourse: Terence Davies’s Films

In a dark room, two women regard each other, the older one cloaked in shadow, the younger one better lit but turned away. The older is caring for her sick husband, wrapped up in bed sheets, while the younger thinks of killing herself due to the pangs of lost, despised love. “Sometimes it’s tough to judge when you’re caught between the devil and the deep blue sea,” she says, a little bent over, to which her staunch, stiff counterpart snaps back: “A lot of rubbish is talked about love. You know what real love is? It’s wiping someone’s ass, or changing the sheets when they’ve wet themselves, and letting ’em keep their dignity so you can both go on. Suicide? No one’s worth it.”

The moment comes late in Terence Davies’s new film, The Deep Blue Sea, which opens theatrically tomorrow, and a sneak preview of which began the BAMcinématek’s retrospective of the British director’s nine-film career (next week, Film Forum will screen a new 35mm print of 1992’s gently gliding The Long Day Closes). This Deep Blue Sea scene, coming late into the story of a London woman struggling to move on post-WWII and post-love, in some ways sets the tone for all of Davies’s work.

15 Famous Missing Persons

Comments Comments (...)

15 Famous Missing Persons
15 Famous Missing Persons

In a role that’s sure to further squander her talent, big-eyed blonde Amanda Seyfried returns this weekend in Gone, a paranoid thriller that sees her character go rogue when the police won’t help her find her missing sister. Lots of folks go missing in the movies—kids, Dames, drugged fiancés, imaginary inmates—and some of the most memorable are right here in this list. So while Seyfried hopefully kicks off another search (for a new agent), click on through to see which cinematic abductees are here—and, if you feel so inclined, tell us which ones are, you know, missing.

Tribeca Film Festival 2011: Highlights & Interview with Director of Programming David Kwok

Comments Comments (...)

Tribeca Film Festival 2011: Highlights & Interview with Director of Programming David Kwok
Tribeca Film Festival 2011: Highlights & Interview with Director of Programming David Kwok

The Tribeca Film Festival allowed this frequent New York festivalgoer a chance to see three genuinely surprising features quite unlike each other, except that they’re three pop experiments that flit around their genres’ boundaries (music doc, food doc/road film, and porn/musical) and are all quietly unforgettable.

The Ballad of Genesis and Lady Jaye: a rock doc as avant-garde love story (previously discussed here).

Take Two #10: The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934) & The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956)

Comments Comments (...)

Take Two #10: <em>The Man Who Knew Too Much</em> (1934) & <em>The Man Who Knew Too Much</em> (1956)
Take Two #10: <em>The Man Who Knew Too Much</em> (1934) & <em>The Man Who Knew Too Much</em> (1956)

[Editor’s Note: Take Two is an occasional series about remakes, reboots, relaunches, ripoffs, and do-overs in every cinematic genre.]

Like Leo McCarey, Alfred Hitchcock returned to one of his signature 1930s works two decades hence, armed with stunning color cinematography, A-list movie stars, and the commercial license to tell his story more leisurely. And there’s where the similarities end. As I wrote, McCarey’s An Affair to Remember feels like the director’s ultimate vision of a very personal story made manifest; Hitchcock’s film, while as handsome and expertly made as one could expect from the Master in the ’50s, also routinely feels like a technical exercise. Granted, even the guy’s technical exercises rank as some of the most fully realized films ever made, but the 1956 Man Who Knew Too Much doesn’t so much add to the 1934 original as repurpose its plot for a couple bravura suspense sequences and some luscious Morocco-set photography. It’s an uneven film, an indisputable breather between masterpieces, but still so technically ravishing that it renders the initial film almost moot.

Deadweek: Janie’s Got a Gun, But Will She Use It?

Comments Comments (...)

Deadweek: Janie’s Got a Gun, But Will She Use It?
Deadweek: Janie’s Got a Gun, But Will She Use It?

Calamity Jane had only five seconds of screen time in last season’s Deadwood premiere, but that was all she needed to make her presence felt. As the stagecoach carrying Martha and William Bullock and several new whores barreled its way toward town, we saw it pass a horse with its rider passed out in the saddle. Sure enough, it was our resident cross-dressing lush, who emerged from her stupor just long enough to scream out “Cocksuckers!” before returning to the sleep of the righteously blitzed.

With Keith Carradine’s Wild Bill Hickok long gone, Robin Weigert has the unenviable task of playing the most famous character on Deadwood, a figure of fascination through the history of Western literature. In movies, she’s typically been portrayed as a sassy tomboy (Doris Day in Calamity Jane) or a sharp-shooting sexpot (Jane Russell in The Paleface). In one of the more awkward page-to-screen adaptations, Larry McMurtry’s Buffalo Girls, which depicted Jane as a lonely hermaphrodite forever writing letters to an imaginary daughter, was turned into a miniseries with Anjelica Huston playing her as a regal plainswoman whose daughter was quite real.