Different Slants

Baby Boom (1987), one of my favorite fish-out-of-water romantic movies is closely related to Doc Hollywood (1991), both depicting very self-assured, smug, sophisticated, highly educated New York City people who unashamedly act openly condescending toward rural towns and types.

Both involve an unexpected re-evaluation of core values, re-categorizing old priorities and slowing w-a-a-a-a-a-y down.  Or, to quote Simon and Garfunkle (both men, unbelievably, now creeping toward seventy years old!) : Slow down! You move too fast! Got to make…the moment last…just kickin’ ’round the cobblestones………………

This week, I’ll attempt to transmit the magical romance that the first film, Baby Boom, bathes me in whenever I see it.  Farm Country real estate brokers ought to make seeing this sweet film a requirement before they show city people rural acreage, and perhaps make those buyers more aware of what already is, doesn’t need an injection of giant and ugly boxy architecture just because there’s so much land available at much cheaper than big city prices.  Just because a person can afford to dramatically change his surroundings doesn’t mean that is reason enough to do it.  Charm is a fragile thing.

Diane Keaton, the film’s star, unlike most film heroines is more linear than curvy, yet to me she conveys an irresistible allure of intelligence, spontaneity, unorthodox speech patterns and pronunciation, sexy indignation and exasperation, studied humorous theatricality in her movements and gestures and did I mention I think she’s beautiful?  Not just twenty years ago, but today too?

Well, she’s the dream schiksa to me.  Endlessly interesting to watch on the big screen, and the little one, too.

She’s an account manager of some big name companies in a high-powered marketing firm, who has chosen to remaine single because she’s ‘married to her career’ and no man she’s met yet has the stuff to deter her from her hungry ambition to dominate her surroundings and be universally recognized for her accomplishments.  She is the self-described “Tiger-Lady” and buddy— you better stay out of her way.

(Read on …)

This 2008 story by me has been rewritten, retitled and is now posted in another place on this blog:

The Great Vladimir Horowitz, the Clueless Paperboy and the Generous Drunk

The Great Vladimir Horowitz, a Clueless Chicago Paperboy and the Generous Drunk…by Robert M. Katzman

Take a look. You’ll be surprised by where it goes.

Bob Katzman

Warning: The following post meets the definition of infomercial.

For many of us, email has become part of our daily lives. It has become an essential tool for communications with others around the world. The things we discuss through email are often the same things we might otherwise discuss through postal mail or on the telephone. Email has also become a source of irritation because some people has chosen to abuse it by sending mountains of spam. (Many more people are unwitting accomplices and don’t even know it.)

What most people do not realize is that sending an email message is like sending a postcard. It can be easily read by any number of people who can access it by way of it passing through their equipment or, who just happen to be connected to the same “wires” it travels along on its path from sender to recipient. Most people who could read others’ emails don’t but the few who do, are likely to do so for the worst reasons.

You are probably saying to yourself, “I don’t care if somebody reads my email. I have nothing to hide.” But just because you are not doing anything illegal, immoral, or shameful, does not mean you would be comfortable if you found your messages copied on the walls of a public restroom. (Read on …)

In Shining Through (1992), Melanie Griffith plays a different sort of ethnic role than she did in last week’s review (KCK, # 6) of A Stranger Among Us (1992).                          

In the first film, she portrayed an undercover cop pretending to be a returning member of a Jewish Hasid sect in New York City.  So…she was an actor pretending to be someone, who was also pretending to be someone else. 

Which by some eerie coincidence is exactly  what she does in the next film. 

In the second film, she’s a young woman in pre-World War II days, about 1940, living near the US Capital.  Her mother is Irish, this time, and her father is Jewish.  She also has Jewish cousins living a fragile existence in Nazi Germany under Adolf Hitler.  Although she doesn’t assume any obvious or familiar ethnic stereo-typical mannerisms to establish that she’s a young East-Coast Jewish girl–which is a good thing to me–the filmmakers must have assumed that the audience would take it on faith that she was who she was supposed to be.

Melanie’s character also has an encyclopedic knowledge of all sorts of obscure movie plots from that post-Depression time and earlier, and that is a key element in the overall story.  All her clever ideas, ways of saving herself when in great danger and the way she chooses to complete the complex and perilous task she is entrusted to do, are derived from moments she’s remembered from the uncountable movies she’s seen.

Well, I can’t imagine what it’s like to have a mind like that, totally filled with memories of thousands of movies.  It seems like you’d have to be a Cyborg to retain all that minutia.  Pass the oil, please, Arnold….  (Read on …)

On the topic of: Unexpected Pleasures of viewing  sexy blonde actresses pretending to be Jewish (excluding Marilyn Monroe – who would be 82 now if she was still living — and who converted before she married Arthur Miller, in July 1956, and the stunning Scarlett Johansson, who doesn’t need to)  I offer the delectable:

                               Melanie Griffith

Who, in an interesting example of strategic career choices, decided to make movies about these exotic Biblical people, twice.

In A stranger Among Us  (1992), she play a tough cop who goes undercover by assuming the identity of a Hasidic single woman who has ‘strayed’ from the sect and then chooses to return to it.  This allows her to have no connections to any of the other Hasidic communities in the Northeastern US area and therefore eliminating any way of tracing who she was, if some suspicious person wanted to do that. 

She is first introduced as gorgeous, physically competent, brave, very effective with a gun and sexually free young woman, but whose life is going nowhere.  She comes across as vaguely unhappy and aimless.  But, of course, still well built.

Then a murder occurs in a New York City’s Jewish Hasidic community and she is assigned to find out who did it–a difficult task in the insular, extremely observant religious community.  

After she is allowed to live in a kind of dorm as a single woman with no money, and gradually blends in with the sharply gender-divided responsibilities each person assumes, she displays a kind of fascination with what she learns and wonders why the women put up with so many restrictions on their freedom of choice, or in other words, the unrestricted  life Melanie is living.

Besides being a murder mystery, the movie is a glimpse into a seldom seen on the screen, every day frozen-in-time world of the Hasids, who also speak Yiddish almost exclusively among themselves, but not around Melanie.  Yiddish–a Middle-European dialect that arose about a thousand years ago as millions of Jews gradually migrated north and east from their original Middle Eastern homeland–is a blend of German, Polish and Hebrew.                                                 (Read on …)

Now, here’s a perfect reason for me to wish I had a world-wide readership of hundreds of millions of movie lovers who shared my taste in great films:

Along comes a truly superb new movie, “Honeydrippers”, a new John Sayles film that is playing in probably twelve art theaters, total, across America and it’ll probably disappear beneath the radar without making barely a ripple.  What a travesty!!

To me, power is the ability to do good on a large scale, not just to savor one’s invincibility.

If I had power like that, I’d compel writers all across America to command movie theater-goers to rush down to their local movie houses, buy lots of tickets and to support Sayles’ wonderful new movie.  Or maybe people would go just because I told them to, because they trusted my taste and judgment.  I’m pretty sure I’m not there yet, in terms of my powers of persuasion.  But…that could change.  Persistence helps, and this is my column # 5.

I met Sayles once, years ago, at the Javits Center in New York City where they held the National Stationary Show every May.  I had a bookstore at the time and we sold tons of postcards and movie posters and other items you could only find at a giant showplace like the Javits Center.  I was addicted to independent cinema since I was a teen, so even though indie movie director/writer/producer John Sayles was not a face you’d ever see on the cover of any magazine, like say, Alfred Hitchcock was, years ago, or Martin Scorsese might be today,  I knew immediately who he was. 

(Read on …)