It Doesn't Matter a Damn What We Think

My next movie was one I've seen before, but it is worth re-viewing: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner (1967).  This was Spencer Tracy's final movie, and a worthwhile note to go out on, if you ask me.  It also stars Katharine Hepburn (always a win in my book), Sidney Poitier (grand), and the relatively unknown Katharine Houghton (Hepburn's niece).  It was directed by Stanley Kramer who also directed the great and groundbreaking movie Inherit the Wind (which I hope to talk about at some point in this blog).

The movie is about a young couple - John (Poitier) and Joey (Houghton) - who are interracial: John is black, and Joey is white.  This movie is set in the time when it was made: the 1960s.  At the time, it was bizarre and unacceptable for people of different races to marry, although it was legal.  Matt (Tracy) and Christina (Hepburn) are Joey's parents, and have raised her not to think any differently of people of different races - that everyone is equal.  Unfortunately for them, they have done an unexpectedly good job, and they run across problems when deciding whether or not they are all right with this marriage.

One interesting point comes up when John says that Joey thinks that all of their children will become President of the United States.  Barack Obama was born in 1961 - he was practically born of this movie.  How grateful I am that such things have become possible in such a short amount of time.

Tracy and Hepburn were in a real-life relationship for something along the lines of 30 years, and you can see the love in their eyes in these roles, which makes Tracy's ending speech so clearly.  He says that if John and Joey feel "half of what we felt - that's everything."  He then exchanges a long look with Hepburn that says much more than any line of dialogue possible.

It would be wonderful if we could learn as a society from examples that came before.  When I mentioned this movie to my friend, Mike, and told him that I was grateful we were past most of this kind of prejudice, he mentioned that we're in the same place with gay marriage that we used to be with interracial marriage.  I hope that changes.  And soon.

Wonderful movie with a lot of wonderful things to say.  Highly recommended, if only to watch the great cast work their magic.

The Nearest Thing to Heaven

My next movie is one that I've been meaning to watch for a while now - An Affair to Remember (released in July, 1957). Ever since seeing Sleepless In Seattle the most recent time, and watching all of the women who watched Affair dissolve into tearful messes, I decided that I must watch this movie that they deemed so beautiful. I figured it would be good - you don't usually go wrong with the great Cary Grant or the wonderful Deborah Kerr, not to mention director Leo McCarey (who directed The Bells of Saint Mary - another lesser known, but wonderful movie) - but I didn't think that I would dissolve into a tearful mess.

Boy was I wrong.

If I had watched this movie in the proper fashion - at home, surrounded by a blanket, some chocolate, and my cat curled up next to me - I would have been bawling like a baby. As I had to stop and start it a few times, the dramatic tension lessened a bit.

Ten minutes into the film, I was hooked. Cary Grant has a way of speaking quickly and throwing in tiny jabs in the most light-hearted way and Deborah Kerr matches him jab-for-jab here. The conversation is witty and quick, but also seems very natural - something that is difficult to achieve. I transcribed my favorite piece of dialogue in the movie for you here.

Terry (Kerr) refuses Nickie's (Grant) advances, since she already has a man in her life. Since Nickie is used to women falling at his feet, this is odd for him, and he admits to being embarrassed.


DK: (with great concern) I do hope it won't affect your ego.

CG: Don't think anything of it. I'll just take my ego for a walk...Unless you'd care to..."

DK: Have dinner with you? I'd love to!"


The movie continues on, and a romance develops, as one could clearly see would happen. The first kiss is very sweet and classy. Terry stalls on the stairs that they're walking down together, hesitating. Nickie steps up and both of their heads disappear behind the upper floor, as they seem to share a most romantic kiss. They promise to disentangle from their lives, get jobs to support one another, and meet at the top of the Empire State Building in six months if all goes well.

If you've seen Sleepless in Seattle, you know all does not go well. Nickie waits and waits at the top of the Empire State Building and we watch him grow more and more dejected and miserable. In a beautiful bit of filmmaking, we are watching Nickie, but hear the sad, sad siren of an ambulance in the background - we know it's for her, as we heard her scream and the screech of tires earlier.

Then comes the part where they're figuring out what to do with their lives now that all has gone wrong. A pointless double-singing of a boring song called "Tomorrowland" by an out-of-tune children's choir that Terry directs kicks me out of my romantic reverie. I tried to see if there was a point to this endless "Tomorrowland" song, but there didn't seem to be. If you have some clue, please enlighten me! This seemed to be the only flaw in the movie for me.

The ending was quite beautiful, and I couldn't be more glad that it was a happy one. I thought for sure that Nickie was going to walk out without Terry even telling him about the accident that kept her from meeting him. But the thought and a sequence of coincidences stopped him and he stayed and she told him and it was sad and beautiful and happy all at once.

A completely satisfying movie. I only wish that all romances were this witty and heartwarming. Now excuse me while I dissolve into a tearful mess.

Carpe Diem!

Hello, and welcome, if you happen to chance on this blog.

First of all, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Katie, I'm 25, married, and I love watching movies. I have little-to-no internet notoriety, so if you think I am "that" Katie, I'm probably not. I wanted to write this blog because I do, as previously noted, love watching movies, and I often have opinions about them that I'd like to record, even if it's just for me to read.

I want to make it clear that this will not be a spoiler-free blog. I will primarily be talking about movies that are old. Whether old means the 1940s or the 1990s to you, I will probably be getting into the whole spectrum. If I do talk about movies that are currently in theaters, I will make sure to put some sort of "spoiler alert" tag on them. If you do not want spoilers on a certain movie, please do not read the entry about that movie. Including this one.

The first movie (appropriately) for my blog is Dead Poets Society. This movie was released in June of 1989, and starred Robin Williams, Robert Sean Leonard, and Ethan Hawke, among many others. It was directed by Peter Wier, who also directed such illustrious films as The Truman Show and Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World. He also directed Green Card (a fabulously awful tear-jerker of a chick flick starring Gerard Depardieu and Andie MacDowell), but we won't hold that against him.

The film is set at an all-boys boarding school called Welton Academy for Boys. The boys in one particular English class are encouraged by their teacher, Mr. Keating (Robin Williams) to "Seize the day!" but also to find inspiration and their own voice by reading and writing poetry.

That in and of itself is a beautiful sentiment, and since I saw this film long ago, I am now convinced that the introduction-ripping scene had such an effect on me that I never could bear to analyze poetry and have there be a "right" answer. If that is true, then I changed my major in college from English to History because of this film.

The controversy in this movie comes from the scene where Neil Perry (Robert Sean Leonard - yum), one of the students, takes his own life because of complex circumstances which are all based upon his father not letting him live his own life, and trying to control him. I've heard it said that it was a plot device that Mr. Weir used to pull at our heartstrings, and attempt to make the movie a classic. I disagree. This scene is what sets the movie apart. Without it, it is merely another movie about teens with a mentor. The only conflict without this one is minor in the large scheme of things, and I believe the depth of the movie would be lost without it.

Inspired by this movie, and a personal need for change, I am starting this blog. It's time. I hope you, too, are inspired by this movie and bravely find your own voice as they did.