Tuesday's Overlooked Film: Old Acquaintance

Why do I like pseudonyms? I don't know. I'm sure it means something. For the first novel I wrote back in high school, Ace Spies Incorporated (my friend Carla claims to have the only existing copy as blackmail material), I gave myself a nom de plume. Weird, eh? So my taking up the moniker Kit Marlowe continues an existing habit.

The original Kit Marlowe was of course the playwright who would have outshone Shakespeare had he lived (being far more daring and audacious). Less well known is Bette Davis' character from the movie Old Acquaintance, a big favorite of mine, based on the play by John Van Druten (he's worked on the script, too), who also wrote Bell, Book and Candle (love that movie, too). Bette Davis stars as Kit Marlowe and Miriam Hopkins as her best pal who envies her success and then emulates it. Of course, Kit Marlowe is the "arty" writer while Miriam Hopkins' Millie Drake is the popular romance writer. Why didn't I choose hers as my rom nom de plume? What can I say? I'm perverse that way.

One of the gratifying things is that the friendship between Kit and Millie outlasts both their rivalry and the man they both love. In fact, you can easily read the film as a coded lesbian narrative, with a lot of elements coming across as far campier to a modern audience than they would have done to most contemporary viewers, I suspect. Just look at the masculine way they dress Davis at the start in contrast to Hopkins' flounces and frills. Davis actually has a tie. She's very guy-ish and at their reunion at the train station gets swept away by a giggling gaggle of co-eds -- her fan club -- leaving the jilted Millie fuming and spilling milk (literally!). Hopkins' character embodies the ideal of the flibbertigibbet, but she's spurred on by a very strong sense of competition with her best friend, yet can never quite settling for winning. She alienates her husband and then her daughter, both of whom turn to the more gentle Kit for comfort. Kit continually forgives Millie's excesses despite the latter's lack of emotional generosity, until one day her patience finally runs out -- and provides one of the most satisfying cinematic moments ever:




The film was remade as Rich and Famous in 1981. It was George Cukor's last film and starred Jacqueline Bisset and Candice Bergen. I also have a fondness for that film, though it's not as good as the earlier one. I do love the way Bergen, upon having her work called "trash" by her increasingly estranged husband, snarls to correct him that it's "successful trash!" Here's to success, however trashy.

See the full list of TOFs over at Todd's blog.

BitchBuzz: Keeping Your Resolutions with Film

My latest column for BitchBuzz addressed that unsurprising problem that crops up mid-January after making those excellent resolutions:

For the first week of January you are virtuous and strong. You go to the gym every day. You wave off those who offer to share a ciggie. You even say no to that very tempting chocolate cake your co-worker slides under your nose.

But then there's week two.

Week two is when the little voices start, the ones that say things like, "You've been good every day; why not skip just this once?" or "You've denied yourself everything; a little taste can't hurt." These are the voices that take you from a momentary hesitation to the sort of decision-making that leads to green-lighting ideas like New Coke or Heaven's Gate...

As always, read the rest over at BBHQ where you'll find entertaining posts on fashion, food and tech.

I just saw Miss Pettigrew for the first time over the break (I say as if it's over, sob -- a few more days, although they're all work). I think it was Miss Wendy who recommended it, or at least said she enjoyed it when I mentioned maybe getting it from the library. I really enjoyed it -- it was exactly the kind of trifle I was hungry for. Amy Adams is just adorable, Ciarán Hinds is wonderful, and I love Frances McDormand, though I really would have loved to see any number of British actresses in the role (Brenda Blethyn anyone?!). There's almost always a kind of tightness when an American actor (even a good one, like McDormand) takes up a fake accent [exception: the best living thespian, Meryl Streep] that restricts the performance, though in this case not enough to dampen the delight of the story.

Better yet, it inspired me to get Winifred Watson's original novel, which was a HOOT! I recommend it highly. It even inspired me to write a story in the same era. If it comes to anything, you'll be sure to hear about it here.

So, have you made resolutions? How are they going so far?