“A press agent is many things, most of them punishable by law.”—Film director Harry Dawes (played by Humphrey Bogart), in The Barefoot Contessa, written and directed by Joseph L Mankiewicz (1954)
This is one of those near-great films about the movie industry, filled with the kind of insider knowledge and pungent, Shavian lines that only Mankiewicz (A Letter to Three Wives, All About Eve) could produce. Believe me, the film was lucky it managed to premiere in New York on this date 55 years ago.
Is there a film counterpart to the term roman a clef—“cine a clef,” maybe? Well, if so, this is one of that genre, along with Citizen Kane and The Bad and the Beautiful—and like those earlier movies, it got a couple of people hot under the collar about how they were portrayed.
That title character, for instance—some people thought it referred to the film’s star, Ava Gardner. But they missed the far more obvious suspect: Rita Hayworth.
Think about it: Both Hayworth and Gardner’s character, Maria Vargas, were Latina dancers who were transformed into international sex symbols by Hollywood, and who left the ersatz aristocracy of Tinseltown for real foreign royalty. Vargas’ husband was based on Hayworth’s most recent, headline-worthy addition to her marital stable, international playboy Ali Khan.
And that nutty billionaire, Kirk Edwards—who else but Howard Hughes? The aviator-businessman-would-be-film honcho certainly saw himself in the role, and growled about filing the mother of all lawsuits unless modifications were made. Oh, yes, after some eye-rolling by the filmmakers, script changes were inserted to Hughes’ satisfaction. But did changing the character from a Texan to a more generic Wall Street type really fool anyone?
You may have thought I was a bit rough on Bogart last week in discussing how he looked in Sabrina. But in this film, released the same year, his appearance was in perfect keeping with his character, a recovering alcoholic who, as the film opens, appears drawn because he’s haunted by death—someone else’s, I'm not saying whose. (No spoilers allowed here!)
One of the press agents that Bogie’s character is talking about in the above quote is Oscar Muldoon, played by the terrific character actor Edmond O’Brien. Bogie talked him into taking the part, and—amid a glittering and talented cast—it was O’Brien who walked away with the Best Supporting Actor Oscar.
So the next time you want to curl up with a Bogie movie, but you’ve seen Casablanca, The Maltese Falcon, or The African Queen one too many times, you can do a lot worse than spend two hours with this cynical—and ultimately rather sad—commentary on the people who come out of nowhere, move like shooting stars through American culture, then burn out before their time.
This is one of those near-great films about the movie industry, filled with the kind of insider knowledge and pungent, Shavian lines that only Mankiewicz (A Letter to Three Wives, All About Eve) could produce. Believe me, the film was lucky it managed to premiere in New York on this date 55 years ago.
Is there a film counterpart to the term roman a clef—“cine a clef,” maybe? Well, if so, this is one of that genre, along with Citizen Kane and The Bad and the Beautiful—and like those earlier movies, it got a couple of people hot under the collar about how they were portrayed.
That title character, for instance—some people thought it referred to the film’s star, Ava Gardner. But they missed the far more obvious suspect: Rita Hayworth.
Think about it: Both Hayworth and Gardner’s character, Maria Vargas, were Latina dancers who were transformed into international sex symbols by Hollywood, and who left the ersatz aristocracy of Tinseltown for real foreign royalty. Vargas’ husband was based on Hayworth’s most recent, headline-worthy addition to her marital stable, international playboy Ali Khan.
And that nutty billionaire, Kirk Edwards—who else but Howard Hughes? The aviator-businessman-would-be-film honcho certainly saw himself in the role, and growled about filing the mother of all lawsuits unless modifications were made. Oh, yes, after some eye-rolling by the filmmakers, script changes were inserted to Hughes’ satisfaction. But did changing the character from a Texan to a more generic Wall Street type really fool anyone?
You may have thought I was a bit rough on Bogart last week in discussing how he looked in Sabrina. But in this film, released the same year, his appearance was in perfect keeping with his character, a recovering alcoholic who, as the film opens, appears drawn because he’s haunted by death—someone else’s, I'm not saying whose. (No spoilers allowed here!)
One of the press agents that Bogie’s character is talking about in the above quote is Oscar Muldoon, played by the terrific character actor Edmond O’Brien. Bogie talked him into taking the part, and—amid a glittering and talented cast—it was O’Brien who walked away with the Best Supporting Actor Oscar.
So the next time you want to curl up with a Bogie movie, but you’ve seen Casablanca, The Maltese Falcon, or The African Queen one too many times, you can do a lot worse than spend two hours with this cynical—and ultimately rather sad—commentary on the people who come out of nowhere, move like shooting stars through American culture, then burn out before their time.
No comments:
Post a Comment