North By Northwest (1959): Rules of the Hollywood Canon

After writing that last entry, I immediately turned on the television. Of course it was already tuned to TCM on cable. The movie was improbably, North by Northwest (1959), which I have seen many times, and which certainly deserves its reputation as one of the finest movies in Hollywood history. 

I say improbably because last month I happened to be in the regional airport of Rapid City, South Dakota, in order to attend a conference in nearby Deadwood. A friend picked me up at the airport to give me and a few others a ride up to Deadwood. One of the people in the car has a podcast where he talks about classic movies. He was in the front seat. As we drove away from the airport, I asked my friend the movie buff in the front seat, whose name was Dave,

"Dave. Can I ask you a movie trivial question?" 

He said ok.

I said: "It's a fill-in-the-blank question. You have to complete the sentence. Here's goes:

I was so surprised flying into the airport just now. It didn't look anything like it did in _______"

He got the answer right away. It was easy.

The next day a bunch of us visited Mount Rushmore, which was being prepared for the upcoming 250th birthday of America celebrations in less than two weeks time. I told my companions about how the last time I was here, I had wanted to see the monument but did not want to pay the pig parking fee. So I had driven around the back of the mountain on the side road. Then I parked my BMW along a wide spot on the road. I then climbed up the back of the nearby mountain where I sat on the top of a hidden watertank and go a level view of George Washington and the other president. That was fourteen years ago.

My favorite scene in the movie is one between Grant (as Roger Thornhill) and Eva Marie Saint (EMS) (as Eve Kendall). IT is the one where Grant  returns to Chicago after the famous incident with the crop duster in Indiana.  He left Chicago thinking EVS was a gorgeous free spirited woman who had fallen in love with him. He returns with the realization that she is part of a plot to murder him. He sees their entire history in a new light.  He wangles his way to the front door of her hotel room and knocks on the door. She opens it and sees him. She thought she was sending him to certain death. She is shocked to see him but cannot reveal that shock. She has to play innocent. He treats her with contempt, this woman he had thought he loved, just a few hours before. She sees that but must play it straight.

But like a true heroine in love, she cannot betray her feelings for the man she loves. This is an breakable point of the old Hollywood canon. A woman in love cannot conceal her feelings completely. She can only try, and fail.

Grant moves past EVS to the center of the room, then looks back at her, staring daggers. She rushes from the door towards him and buries her face in his chest, overwhelmed with relief that he is alive. 

TCM Plus 20 Years: Remembering Susan Hayward

 Even when this was a movie blog, I didn't write about classic movies I saw on TCM (or rarely did so). I only wrote about a movies I saw in theaters as I traveled about the country and the world. 

But I don't go to theaters much anymore. My TCM viewership goes through phases. Mostly when Jessica is out of town, as she is fairly often for work, and as she is right now, do I revert back to my old practice from Fort Collins 20 years ago, of leaving TCM on all day long and in the evening to keep me company. I joke that I discovered TCM in summer 2006 and "left it on for the next two years straight," while living in the basement of my friend Sarah and Chad's house on Edwards Street, one block north of my old high school, while I put my life together while going through divorce.  

"Never get out of the TCM boat' became my motto (paraphrasing a line from Martin Sheeen in Apocalypse Now). The only exception I made to TCM on my tv was sometimes to change the channel to Comedy Central to watch the Colbert Report. Back in those days of the Bush presidency, Colbert was my go-to political commentary. I still feel the same way about Bush, but now I loathe Colbert and can't imagine giving him an ounce of attention at this point. But TCM survives. 

I can't believe it's been twenty years since I found TCM. I remember that Susan Hayward was the star of the month when I first turned over to TCM. Every time I see a Susan Hayward movie I get a little nostalgic for those early days. I was confused, miserable, and lonely. It became a challenge to keep my wits about me, and to feel like life had meaning

TCM is still a great network, but in some ways it has degraded. Robert Osbourne, the original host who died in 2017, is still unmatched. The web site used to be much, much better. Now it seems designed by idiots and each upgrade makes it worse. Thankfully the wave of extreme "woke" commentary about Hollywood history has receded a bit (Oh my gosh they did blackface Let's all rend our garments and wail!). It never got as bad as I feared, and I can tune out the DEI programming for the most part.

I am thankful that TCM is still there, and has survived the post-Ted Turner attempts to shut it down. the budget has been slashed multiple times. It is only still on the air because somewhere within the Hollywood power structure are people who great influence who treasure it as much as I and others do.

After seeing a notable film on TCM, I often sit down and start writing up my reactions. Sometimes I finish them and publish them (see the last few entries), but often I poop out and leave them unfinished. I don't hold myself to any score. But it's always better to finish, and get something online and "in the can."'

I'll Cry Tomorrow (1955) may have been the first movie I watched TCM while living on Edwards Street in the summer of 2006.