The Screengrab : the miracle of morgan's creek

Set Your DVR!: February 2 - 9, 2009

Hayden Childs — Tue, 03 Feb 2009 16:00:00 GMT

This week has three movies to make your DVR (or, you know, you) happy! First you have a Preston Sturges sex romp straining against the Hays Code. Then a classic sci-fi version of The Tempest with Freudian overtones! And finally, the first third of an iconic samurai trilogy. Enjoy!

The Miracle of Morgan's Creek, playing on TCM on Thursday, February 5 at 7 pm central/8 pm eastern. The Hays Code forbade movies in which unmarried people had biblical knowledge of each other, if you know what I mean, and I think you do (hint: I'm not talking about smiting). But Preston Sturges had an idea about a movie in which a small-town lass goes out for a few drinks with some soldiers on their way to WWII and winds up pregnant by one of them. The character is named Trudy Kockenlocker, and if that's not enough for a quick dirty joke, she's played by the hot-to-trot Betty Dutton. To slide under the Hays Code bar, she's had a quickie marriage to the guy. Unfortunately, she can't remember his name. Professional bundle-of-nerves Eddie Bracken stars as her small-town pal stuck in the friend zone, but who wants to be so much more.

Forbidden Planet, playing on TCM on Friday, February 6 at 7 am central/8 am eastern. Many of the sci-fi flicks of this period are about creeping Communism or mindless anti-Communism (as if sacrificing basic civil liberties to fight an idea is anything other than preposterous). In this one, political philosophies are nothing compared to the horrors of the psyche. It's an adaptation of Shakespeare's The Tempest, starring Leslie Nielson in a dramatic (non-ironic, I mean) role, and it's a lot of fun.

Samurai 1: Musashi Miyamoto, playing on IFC on Saturday, February 7 at 7 am central/8 am eastern. This is the first of the Samurai trilogy, starring the always-amazing Toshiro Mifune as Musashi Miyamoto, one of the great swordsmen of Japanese legend. This is cinema at its most epic and iconic. If you watch this, be prepared to check back over the next two Saturdays for the next two parts, because the trilogy really must be seen as a whole.

Set Your DVR!: November 3 - 10, 2008

Hayden Childs — Mon, 03 Nov 2008 16:00:00 GMT

Whew! I'm happy that the Halloween season is over! I watched a ton of great movies, but I have horror fatigue. Let's see what the next week has to offer. There's some world-class movies on TV this week!

Mon, Nov 3:

10:30/11:30 am: The Man From Laramie on TCM. Anthony Mann Western with James Stewart. Not the best Mann Western, but it’ll do.

4:15/5:15 pm: I Am David on IFC. Paul “Freaks & Geeks” Feig directs a completely unfunny and somewhat mawkish film about a boy who escapes a Stalinist concentration camp and learns to love. Feig is awesome, but this movie is not. Consider this a warning.

7/8 pm: True Stories on VH1CL. David Byrne’s labor of love, a deliberately quirky look at America from one of its deliberately quirky pop culture figures.

8/9 pm: Me and You and Everyone We Know on IFC (repeat 11/4 at 12/1 am). Miranda July is cute and a little alienating. John Hawkes learned from Deadwood the fine art of saying everything he has to say with his eyebrows. Somehow, despite the nearly lethal levels of kookiness, July has made a movie with an enormous amount of heart.

Tues, Nov 4:

UPDATED!

9:05/10:05 am: The F Word on IFC (repeat at 4:05/5:05 pm). Catch the Screengrab's own Andrew Osborne as the character mysteriously named "Andrew!" Thanks to Scott Von D for the hat tip.

10:30/11:30 am: Grand Theft Parsons on IFC (repeat at 5:30/6:30 pm and on 11/5 at 4:55/5:55 am). Not a great movie, but it's about the untimely demise of Gram Parsons and what happened thereafter.

7/8 pm Decision at Sundown on TCM. Budd Boetticher and Randolph Scott in a taut little no-budget Western. Not the best of their collaborations, but it's decent.

Wed, Nov 5:

9/10 am: The Straight Story on FX. David Lynch's G-rated film about an aging man who travels via lawnmower to make amends with his long-estranged brother. It's utterly fantastic.

11:30 am/12:30 pm: Burden of Dream on IFC. Les Blank's documentary about Werner Herzog's maddening attempts to make Fitzcarraldo. This is the rare film where the making-of documentary is better than the fiction. If you haven't seen it, this is essential viewing. You will reach the other side in greater awe of Herzog, nature, Kinski, madness, and the folly of human ambition.

12:30/1:30 pm: The Blue Gardenia on TCM. A scalding film noir by Fritz Lang.

8/9 pm: 24 Hour Party People on IFC (repeat on 11/6 at 12/1 am). Some of the Factory Records bands are stunning, and some (The Happy Mondays in particular) are dull and overrated. But Tony Wilson was mesmerizing, and Michael Winterbottom's postmodern bio makes the case for his greatness.

10/11 pm: The Filth and the Fury on IFC (repeat on 11/6 at 2/3 am). If you're curious about the Sex Pistols, this is the definitive documentary.

Thurs, Nov 6:

1:45/2:45 pm: The Awful Truth on TCM. Pretty much the greatest screwball comedy.

5:05/6:05 pm: Ride with the Devil on IFC (repeat on 11/7 at 4:40/5:40 am). Ang Lee's odd Civil War drama where everybody's on the wrong side of history.

Fri, Nov 7:

8/9 am: Heavenly Creatures on LOGO. Before the Lord of the Rings, Peter Jackson directed this movie about the intensity of fantasy in a teenage friendship and the lengths to which two girls actually went (this is based on a true story) to keep themselves together.

Sat, Nov 8:

12:15/1:15 am: La Jetee on TCM. This is the best movie I've recommended yet, and it's only 28 minutes long. I recommend watching it twice in a row, then waiting two weeks and watching it again. See what you remember about it. Watch Vertigo again in the meantime.

1/2 am: The Trip on TCM. This is, like, whoa. And then you'll be all what? And then, man, like, you know, then, you'll get it. And you'll be all really? But you'll know.

7/8 am: Sanshiro Sugata II on IFC. Kurosawa's third film, the sequel to his first. The climactic scene is scarred pretty badly, but Kurosawa's eye is as sharp as ever.

9:30/10:30 am: Picnic at Hanging Rock on IFC (repeat at 4:15/5:15 pm and on 11/9 at 4/5 am). Peter Weir's second feature film, this is an existential horror film. Several girls and a teacher disappear on an outing to Hanging Rock. One girl turns up mysteriously days later. The disparity between the proper Victorian British and the great untamed Australian Outback serves to heighten the oddness of this movie.

Sun, Nov 9:

7/8 am: Amarcord on IFC. The most felliniesque of Fellini films. One of his last major films. I have never thought it was as good as 8 1/2, but it still packs a punch.

9:05/10:05 am: Umberto D on IFC. De Sica's neorealist classic about an old man cast aside by society. Prepare for tears and a greater awareness of the plight of the elderly. You'll never be able to name a dog "Flike."

9:15/10:15 am: The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek on TCM. What a conundrum! Umberto D and The Miracle of Morgan's Creek playing at the same time! This is a fantastic, censor-baiting Preston Sturges comedy. Eddie Bracken may not be the greatest male lead ever, but the jokes come hard and fast.

1:15/2:15 pm: The Cars That Ate Paris on IFC. Peter Weir's first feature film. I've never seen it, but it's bound to be interesting.

8/9 pm: Wild at Heart on IFC (repeat on 11/10 at 2/3 am). This may be David Lynch's worst film. Or maybe it's the one with Sting. Hard to say, but there's still something worthwhile in each.

Mon, Nov 10:

8:20/9:20 am: The Decline of Western Civilization Part II: The Metal Years on IFC (repeat at 3/4 pm). Don't let too many years pass without watching Ozzy make breakfast.

2:45/3:45 pm: Becket on TCM. It's Oscar-bait, sure, but not a bad movie.

America the Beautiful: 15 Movies That Show What's RIGHT With U.S. (Part One)

Andrew Osborne — Thu, 03 Jul 2008 20:00:00 GMT

It’s easy to criticize America (and, in fact, we did...just last week, with our list of movies showing what’s wrong with the U.S.). Yet, as we fire up the grills and sparklers for the long Independence Day weekend, it’s worth noting that, for all the flaws of our presidents, our corporations and ourselves, we’ve still managed to accomplish some amazing things: declaring independence, defeating the Nazis, putting a man on the moon, Wall*E, etc.

So, just for a moment, let's all put down those copies of Mother Jones and the Noam Chomsky Reader, switch off Fox News and simply join together in commemorating fifteen films that remind us why the United States is still a nation worth celebrating.

1776 (1972)

Let’s start at the very beginning, shall we? Sure, Stephen Dillane, Tom Wilkinson and Paul Giamatti were good as Thomas Jefferson, Ben Franklin and the eponymous revolutionary in HBO’s recent miniseries, John Adams... but in my book, Ken “The White Shadow” Howard, Howard Da Silva and William “K.I.T.T.” Daniels’ definitive Adams have always been the Founding Fathers to beat. This cinematic adaptation of the Tony-award winning musical by Sherman Edwards and Peter Stone pumps blood (and catchy showtunes!) into the hoary old high school history class tale of the founding of America while actually managing to generate suspense about whether the Declaration of Independence will actually get signed by vividly detailing the players and dueling agendas (North vs. South, entitled conservatives vs. scrappy progressives, same as it ever was) involved in Philadelphia’s pressure cooker Second Continental Congress of 1776. With all the story’s passion and pathos (Adams’ tender affection for his truly better half, Abigail, Jefferson’s overpowering lust for his new bride, Martha, the bloody cost of independence paid by the young soldiers in the fields of Lexington and Concord), the songs (“Yours, Yours, Yours”, “He Plays the Violin,” the heartbreaking “Momma Look Sharp,” etc.) are never intrusive and fit quite nicely into the plot...including “Cool, Considerate Men” (sung by the movie’s conservative characters) which then-President Nixon wanted producer Jack Warner to remove from the movie for its clear-eyed assessment of the once and future G.O.P. and its mysterious appeal to voters whose interests it barely pretends to represent: “...don’t forget that most men without property would rather protect the possibility of becoming rich than face the reality of being poor...and that is why they will follow us to the right, ever to the right, never to the left, forever to the right!” And, while the film clearly sides with the progressives, it’s fairly even-handed in its presentation of the struggle for true independence in America. When Massachusetts homeboy Adams insists on anti-slavery language in the Declaration of Independence, John Cullum’s conservative South Carolina delegate Edward Rutledge slaps back at his smug liberal hypocrisy by pointing out New England’s intimate financial stake in the shipping industry that made the slave trade possible. Ultimately, of course, the warring factions manage to put aside their differences just long enough to form a more perfect union, birthing the nation and establishing a pattern of governance and congressional behavior that continues to this day: deadlock, division, short-sighted compromise and, every now and then, an inspiring historical moment. Happy Birthday, America!

YANKEE DOODLE DANDY (1942)

Okay, so it's pretty hokey. And yeah, it lacks the subtlety and nuance of many of the other films on this list. And sure, we'll even go as far as to say that Yankee Doodle Dandy – the 1942 biopic of George M. Cohan, starring an irrepressible James Cagney – is a bit jingoistic. But its rambunctious pro-American sentiment, at least, isn't at anyone else's expense: it's the story of a guy who thinks America is just swell, gosh darn it, and he'll be hanged if he isn't gonna let everybody know how swell it is. Indeed, it's even aware of its flag-waving nature, and revels in it: during his own lifetime, after all, Cohan was accused of being overly rah-rah, and responded by writing a serious, issues-driven play – which completely bombed. Audiences didn't want Cohan to be socially relevant. They wanted him to be a singing, dancing dynamo who celebrated the best things about their culture, so that's what he delivered; and Yankee Doodle Dandy does the same. Never a great hoofer (especially in a role originally intended for Fred Astaire) or the world's best singer, Cagney compensates for what he lacks in technical prowess with indefatigable energy, enthusiasm, and charisma. Working with the notoriously strict Casablanca director Michael Curtiz, Cagney managed to add a number of improvised bits that are, today, remembered fondly as some of the movie's best moments. Yankee Doodle Dandy is a big, dumb, fun movie that does nothing but put a gifted performer with a goofy smile in front of our faces to wave the flag for an hour, but sometimes, that's just what you need.

SONGWRITER (1984)

On any worthwhile list of the most beloved living Americans, you'd find Willie Nelson's name somewhere near the top. Beware false prophets claiming to be uniters, not dividers; it was Willie who brought together the hippies, the rednecks, the bikers and the good ol' boys when he moved to Austin in the '70s and helped launch the cosmic cowboy movement. He's the only longhaired stoner your grandmother loves, and the one guy we'd forgive for singing "To All the Girls I've Loved Before" without a second thought. There can be no more quintessentially American story than Willie's, and that makes Songwriter, a freewheeling take on the red-headed stranger's legend penned by Nelson biographer Bud Shrake, a quintessentially American – not to mention criminally under-appreciated – movie. One-time Altman protégé Alan Rudolph actually bests his mentor for once; with all due respect to Nashville, found elsewhere on this list, Songwriter is a warmer, wittier and wiser take on the country music scene and its denizens. Willie plays Doc Jenkins, a country superstar with no financial acumen but a genius for exploiting loopholes (such as playing multiple instruments on a record by a supposed 11-piece supergroup and collecting all the extra paychecks). His nemesis is Rodeo Rocky, a Chicago wiseguy in Nashville drag who has swindled Doc out of his copyrights. A showdown looms, but as Doc's erstwhile partner Blackie Buck (Kris Kristofferson) says, "I'm puttin' my money on a con man gypsy badass true blue legendary bandit hero. And when it's all over they can say he did it for the love, but he was not above the money." Con movies too often become mechanical exercises, but Songwriter is as relaxed and buoyant of spirit as a Willie Nelson concert on the Fourth of July.

THE MIRACLE OF MORGAN'S CREEK (1944)

The late Veronica Geng once wrote of the writer-director Preston Sturges that he "had a supreme gift for making people laugh without representing the world as better or worse than it is." Sturges saw America as a place where politics was crooked and rigged, business was crazy, and the few people who had any brains were liable to misplace them in the throes of passion. Yet his tone towards it all remained affectionate: he was a realist with a romantic streak who appreciated lunacy, corruption and chaos for their entertainment value and could forgive any thug his trespasses if he had a gaudy line of slang and a colorful croak with which to deliver it. (William Demarest never had a better patron.) Sturges knew that the little guy didn't always come out on top in America, but he felt that he should, and he used his movies to set about improving on reality. In this, his slapstick tribute to the virtues of the heartland as he saw them, Betty Hutton is Trudy Kockenlocker, a good small town girl whose response to the nation's call that our brave boys in uniform be shown the affection they deserve before heading overseas leaves her pregnant by some fellow whose face she can't remember, though she thinks his name might have been something like "Private Ratskywatsky." This development brings shame and disgrace on Trudy, her family, and her boyfriend Norval (Eddie Bracken), until Trudy gives birth to sextuplets, a feat that so impresses the newspapers and the clods who read them that she and Norval and proclaimed national heroes. Private Ratskywatsky could not be reached for comment.

WHY WE FIGHT (1942-1945)

Frank Capra, so the story goes, was terrified. The legendary director had seen a screening of Leni Riefenstahl's Triumph of the Will, and witnessed the power of cinema to sway the loyalties of an entire nation. Despite the attack on Pearl Harbor, America in the early days of World War II wasn't entirely certain, after the disaster of the First World War, that it wanted to be involved in another European conflict; Capra needed a way to counter the Nazi use of film as a propaganda medium, and convince a largely isolationist nation that this was a war worth fighting. His solution, produced in conjunction with the United States government, was Why We Fight. A series of seven documentaries (most about an hour long and initially targeted at American military men before their runaway popularity demanded they be shown to a receptive civilian audience as well), Why We Fight examined great battles, war crimes, and political differences between the democratic Allies and the fascist Axis. It was composed largely of stock footage, brilliantly edited together by Academy Award winner William Hornbeck, and enhanced by animations provided by Walt Disney Studios. The Why We Fight series is undoubtedly propaganda – it makes no pretense towards fairness or balance, contains more than a few factual distortions, and is meant to stir up the feelings of an entire nation in favor of a devastating war – but it is propaganda of the best kind, which helped the country understand that there were real humanitarian reasons for opposing Germany and Japan. One of the most celebrated works of filmmaking in American history, Why We Fight still has the power to stir the spirit today. Ironically, in a time when America has largely abandoned the moral leadership it carried in the Second World War, the documentary lent its name to another (2005) film which profoundly questioned our militaristic bent, but nothing can distract from the power and purpose of the original, which shows the American fighting spirit at its very best.

Click here for Part Two and Part Three

Contributors: Andrew Osborne, Leonard Pierce, Scott Von Doviak, Phil Nugent

In Other Blogs: Seagalogy and its Discontents

Scott Von Doviak — Fri, 20 Jun 2008 17:00:00 GMT

The Indiewire blog Boredom at its Boredest has an appreciation of our erstwhile Screengrab colleague Vern’s scholarly film studies tome Seagalogy. Actually, calling it an appreciation doesn’t go far enough. Michael Tully calls the book “the definitive statement of film writing by a member of my generation. Laugh if you want, but it’s true. You can even quote me. Go ahead. I dare you. For the fact remains that there has never been a film writer whose voice so distinctly and accurately represents the bipolar blend of sarcasm and sincerity that defines the late 20th Century generation to which we belong. By celebrating, dissecting, and nitpicking through the entire oeuvre of Steven Seagal, Vern has turned other critics’ trash into his own unique art. If you think Seagalogy is all one big, funny joke, you’re missing the point. It’s not a joke. It’s dead serious. But it’s also hilarious. As in That Is The Funniest Fucking Thing I Have Ever Read In My Life hilarious.” Of course, you can’t make a claim like that without ruffling a few feathers, so be sure to check out the comments for an irate reaction and Vern’s even-tempered reply.

The House Next Door and Movie Geeks United have teamed up for a look back at…the Summer of ’83. Well now, there’s an idea! I’ll admit that this feature has opened my eyes to something I was not aware existed: the cult of Krull. “I have seen Krull 12,118 times,” writes Stephen Boone. “I have to agree that it wipes out any objectivity on my part. It is a perfect gem. I blame the music. James Horner was on some kind of fire in the 1980's. The scores to Krull and Star Trek II make me wanna swashbuckle just as badly as Wu Tang's 'Da Mystery of Chessboxin' makes me want to pull a heist in a ninja suit.”

At Popwatch, Gary Susman quibbles with the AFI’s latest boring rank-off. “As always, the AFI list prompts both quibbles and assent. First the quibbles, including one major beef: No horror? Horror's not a classic genre? (That sound you hear is Boris Karloff, pictured, spinning in someone else's grave.) Neither is the musical? Or film noir? What gives? And among the genres themselves, the romantic comedy list is especially disappointing. (Sleepless in Seattle is one of the 10 best romantic comedies ever? Better than Ninotchka, Trouble in Paradise, The Lady Eve, The Miracle of Morgan's Creek, Some Like It Hot, or His Girl Friday? Shoot me now.) City Lights is indeed a great film, but the essence of romantic comedy is sparkling dialogue, which is nonexistent in Chaplin's silent. And in Westerns, they found room for the unwatchable Cat Ballou but not for The Magnificent Seven, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, Tombstone, Destry Rides Again?”

And finally this week in List-o-Mania, Spoutblog offers 15 Films That Offended Religious Groups, in honor of the Love Guru kerfuffle. If I were Mike Myers, I would now turn to the camera, grin sheepishly and say, “I just said ‘kerfuffle.’”

Related:
Seagalogy: A Life in Badass Cinema
Mike Myers Will Uplift You

The Movie Moment: The Miracle of Morgan's Creek (1944, Preston Sturges)

Paul Clark — Fri, 21 Dec 2007 20:00:00 GMT

For years, Hollywood’s Production Code was the last word in regulating the decency of American movies. If a movie’s subject matter, content, or intent didn’t meet with the approval of the Production Code Administration (PCA), a movie had to be tinkered with until it did. It was a formidable obstacle for filmmakers, and such limits forced them to get creative. This was especially true of Code-era comedies, which often hid dicey material just well enough by playing it for laughs.

For my money, no one did it more successfully than Preston Sturges, who made a string of hilarious, outrageous comedies during the 1940s, at the height of the PCA’s power. Sturges’ best work is full of questionable material that he somehow snuck past the censors- think the Freudian snakes of The Lady Eve, or the husband plotting his wife’s murder in Unfaithfully Yours. Most outlandish of all was his 1944 farce The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek, which had so much risqué material that it’s a miracle it was made at all, let alone released.

How risqué, you ask? Look no further than the film’s premise. Betty Hutton plays young Trudy Kockenlocker (Kockenlocker!), who goes out dancing with some soldiers leaving for the war, only to have no recollection of what happened the next morning. She later discovers that not only did she get married, but she can’t even remember the groom’s name, aside from it being “something like… Ratzkywatzky.” Not only that, but she’s pregnant, so she enlists her hapless admirer, Norval Jones (Eddie Bracken) to help her out of her predicament. That’s just in the first half-hour or so. After that, it’s off to the races.

If Sturges’ inversion of the Biblical Christmas story seemed objectionable, that’s nothing compared to the film’s portrayal of pregnancy, a taboo subject under the PCA. The word “pregnant” wasn’t even uttered by a Hollywood release until 1953’s The Moon Is Blue. What’s amazing is how well Sturges navigates around his restrictions while getting his points across loud and clear. In the film’s final reel, Trudy is in her final days before giving birth. Unable to show her pregnant belly, Sturges instead films her obliquely, with the camera behind her head while she sits in a chair or outside a car while she sits in the backseat. Rather than denying Trudy’s condition, the camera angles are so contrived and awkward that they become a subversive joke unto themselves.

Yet what comes through most clearly in The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek is its warmth. A prevailing theme in Sturges’ films is what it means to do good, and Norval is one of his sweetest characters. He loves Trudy so much that he’ll suffer anything for her. But Trudy’s goodness is just as important. She makes some big mistakes, but she learns from them, and along with Norval’s unconditional love they make her a better person. It’s because of this that we care about these two crazy kids through all of the bizarre hairpin turns of the plot, leading up to the final miracle on Christmas Eve, the outcome of which I wouldn’t dream of spoiling for you.

Previous Movie Moment posts can be found here.