Over this past two weeks, while sitting on the beach here in Cannes, I read “The Looming Tower – Al Queda and the Road to 9/11,” an excellent and absorbing, Pulitzer Prize winning book by Lawrence Wright.

9/11

Wright traces the rise of Arab fundamentalism, its use of terror and, in particular, supplies a detailed account of the origins of Al Qaeda and its founder – Osama bin Laden. It’s a fascinating story of murder, torture, ironic failure and of a man who comes from wealth but has put all aside in his obsession with Islamic fundamentalism paired with a profound hatred of the United States and all he thinks it represents.

In broad strokes, nothing new for most of us; but this book stands out for its exceptional writing as well as providing the details surrounding a movement that impacts virtually everybody in the western world.

Bin Laden, the son of a very wealthy and prominent Saudi builder and contractor has, according to Wright, often criticized many of his super-rich, former countryman (bin Laden las been deprived of his Saudi Arabian passport and thus is, presumably, stateless) for their extravagance and excess which is often expressed in the casino at Monte Carlo and the shops of Cannes. The cote d’azure is a magnet for those who wish to indulge and the fabled coast is not very far a jaunt for the luxury yachts of the Saudi princes.

State of the Art Yachts

So, having read this book, and then one week later finding myself lunching at Le Grill, atop the storied Hotel de Paris in Monte Carlo, followed by a visit to this very same casino, I thought – hmm, should I be prudent and, sort of, at least, be on the lookout for suspicious loners among the throngs of tourists milling about the Casino Square as well as inside and on the steps of the casino itself?

I will never forget being in Jerusalem in the spring of 1995; when in the company of a potential Israeli co-producer one balmy evening, we decided, after dinner, to search out an agreeable spot for a dessert and coffee. We headed down one narrow street to a recommended café – but, my friend stopped as we approached it and suggested we go elsewhere (because it was too crowded; not too full, but too crowded). That has been the only time that the ugly truth of suicide bombings directly impinged upon my consciousness and not much of an impingement, at that!

The very next morning I was actually abducted by a huge Arab man and his son, but that, truly, is another story. (see post titled “Movie”)

Streets in Old Jerusalem

However, how would we react if the “mad mullahs,” as one writer has described them, took over our lives? I know that I would not like it one bit! Would I, personally, go so far as a suicide mission to express this fundamental disagreement? Unlikely, at my age, or maybe at any age for that matter – but, we all know that as a free society, very many of us would begin a quite serious rebellion. In the final analysis though, I have come to realize that we are all pawns in the great game of History where things, both ugly and beautiful, just ebb and flow with repetition being the essential and driving ingredient.

As Wright points out in “The Looming Tower,” much of to-day’s unrest in the middle east began in 1916 with the secret Sykes-Picot Agreement wherein France and Britain dismember the Arab lands for themselves in true colonial fashion.

Arabia in 1916 is the landscape both geographically and historically for one of the great films of all time – the 70 mm masterpiece “Lawrence of Arabia” directed by David Lean and starring, in his first movie role, the very young and dashing Peter O’Toole.

 

Movie Review:

Lawrence of Arabia

Directed by David Lean, Produced by Sam Spiegel, and Starring Peter O’ Toole, Omar Sharif, Alec Guinness, and Jack Hawkins — Columbia Pictures 1962

 

Rated consistently as one of the top five films ever to have been made, “Lawrence of Arabia” owes its distinction to a happy confluence of many elements – a distinguished cast, an incisive and nuanced script, stirring as well as enduring music, a great director and a stunningly beautiful locale photographed virtually perfectly by a super cinematographer.

And this motion picture was allowed to be shot on location in the hostile and forbidding deserts of Jordan and the middle east through the medium of 70mm film – the last motion picture to do so. The producer, Sam Spiegel, was not known for his appreciation of “art” in particular – in fact, my personal knowledge of him did not extend beyond that of a fat-bellied, cigar chomping caricature of the rude, pretty-girl grabbing, Hollywood producer.

But his producing credits include “On the Waterfront,” “Bridge on the River Kwai,” “Dr. Zhivago” and, of course, “Lawrence of Arabia.”

You can easily imagine what would drive a director to lug these huge and intricate cameras into such heat and sand utterly destined to inflict a myriad of delays, breakdowns and misfortunes onto the production but what would convince a producer best known for his carnal appetites to agree to such obvious folly.

I can only imagine that he bought into David Lean’s vision which is said to have evolved from his imagining of the great “mirage” shot where Omar Sharif, in his first western role, rides on a camel – out of infinity, into a medium close-up shot. This piece of cinema is generally thought to be one of the great “shots” of all time. David Lean’s Arabia is magical, exotic, dangerous and extraordinarily beautiful! In any event, the last 70mm film (shot on original 70mm negative; not shot on 35mm and not later “blown up” to 70mm) to be made was done so under these extraordinary and difficult circumstances – and under the financial aegis of Sam Spiegel. When I met him, I obviously got him wrong; very wrong!

As Omar Sharif said, how could a movie as expensive as this be made; almost four hours long, no women in the cast, an unknown in the lead, no love story, not much action and a supporting cast of non-stars!

“Lawrence of Arabia” is David Lean’s masterpiece! Everything is real and true – no digital effects to somehow numb the senses. The stars were on their camels even for the extreme wide and long shots – Lean thought it important for the purposes of verisimilitude! The costumes were authentic; all made or purchased in Jordan and Syria.

David Lean was quoted as saying “I just love making movies!” The charge into the seaport of Aquaba from its rear had both Anthony Quinn and Omar Sharif wondering about this statement as, without stunt doubles, they rode into Aquaba on their horses and camels respectively at the head of a wild charge with literally hundreds of horsemen behind them – all going at breakneck speed. Mr Sharif reportedly thought “ What if one of us falls; will we be trampled to death?”

Well, Peter O’Toole did fall and his camel – either magically or normally – stood atop him while the thundering mass split around him!

In my view, Peter O’Toole is a quirky actor at best, but here he outdoes himself and gives the performance of a lifetime. Ironically, at one point in this magnificent film General Allenby (played by Jack Hawkins) tells Lawrence that after the war, his (Allenby’s) name will only be found in the War Museum while his (Lawrence’s) will be a household word. This turned out to be quite accurate with the added truism that Col. E. T. Lawrence would be a household word indelibly linked to the beautiful visage of Peter O’Toole!

“Lawrence of Arabia” is a stunning piece of cinematic entertainment – magical, desert vistas filled with exotic peoples dressed as in biblical times playing out a story of freedom won and lost while being led by a mystical Englishmen whose love affair with the desert and its tribes is played out in spiritual and mystical terms.

Prince Faisal, early in the film, says to Lawrence: “the English have a great hunger for desolate places.” And so true it proves to be as the secret Sykes-Picot Agreement of 1916 negates Lawrence’s and the British promise of a free Arabia in return for Arab assistance in fighting the Turkish Empire during WW #1. This “treaty”, with that peculiar arrogance seemingly reserved for colonial powers, carved out for Britain and France the Arab lands including a provision for an independent Jewish State in Palestine! .

The Seeds of Betrayal

It is generally agreed that the Sykes-Picot arrangement of 1916 was the turning point in Western-Arab relations. As an aside, it has been suggested that the devastating IED (improvised explosive device) used to such terrible effect by the insurgents in Iraq was invented by Colonel Lawrence and its construction and use demonstrated to the Arabs during the uprisings depicted in this magnificent film!

So, is it here with Lawrence of Arabia that the current mess can be traced to its roots?

But, are grand vistas of exotic locales gorgeously photographed in 70mm by Freddie Young along with a brilliant script by Robert Bolt plus stirring and lasting music from Maurice Jarre enough to make “Lawrence of Arabia” the great film it is?

Epic films such as this had their day – complete with intermissions and overtures. Most show their age. Not “Lawrence of Arabia!”

The story of Lawrence is captivating – addressing the universal theme of “who am I?” Lawrence is asked who he is many times throughout the movie. He doesn’t know! And neither do we! Once again we are presented with a great romantic spectacle, laboriously fashioned by singular artists and craftsmen, based upon true events that has as its hero a true “knight errant” who is following a mythical dream only to have it succeed gloriously and to fail miserably.

“Lawrence of Arabia” is a slice of life writ very, very large.

And, by the way, the new special edition DVD (digitally remastered) is magnificent. And soon, there will be a blu-ray edition.

One version or the other belongs in everyone’s library, I think!

We drove to Monte Carlo yesterday by way of Nice and the village of La Turbie which sits high above Monaco (Monte Carlo is the famous quarter of this independent and tiny country) in the French, Maritime Alps.

Spectacular view of La Turbie, with Le Trophee des Alpes towering above.

“The Grande Corniche”, as this spectacular drive is known, rivals any other such route in the world, while La Turbie is the home of the impressive and grand Le Trophee des Alpes. It is the 2,000 year old monument to Augustus Caesar, built by the Roman Senate in 6 B.C., to commemorate his victories and to stand as a towering dividing line between Gaul and Italy as well as to mark the great road leading from Rome on through France to Great Britain. Augustus Caesar began his political career as Octavian, a nephew of Juluis Caesar. His torturous route to Emperor of Rome is wonderfully depicted in the excellent, 26-part dramatic HBO television series – a must-see!

Approaching the physical testimony to the accomplishments of Augustus Casesar.

As we walked about this ancient site, an overpowering sense of history and the grandeur of the Roman Empire overcame us both. To use a much overworked word – it was/is awesome!

But, on to Monte Carlo, the epitome of chic and glamour from Alfred Hitchcock to James Bond to Grace Kelly and to the super rich sheiks from the oil-rich kingdoms of the middle east.

The view of Monaco and its beautiful harbor from La Turbie.

Of course, at the center of everything is the Belle Epoch Casino where the tax-free citizens of Monaco are forbidden to enter. However, to-day, at the very end of the “season,” the entire Casino Square seems overrun by tourists (including ourselves of course) and thereby somewhat diminished in its exclusivity and romantic appeal – it’s sense of the “unattainable” being no more. But, standing to the immediate west of the casino is the magnificent Hotel de Paris, another structure a la the Belle Epoch – and the hotel is quietly composed and serene in its lavish lobby complete with uber courteous staff.

The terrace around Le Grill – the restaurant atop the Hotel de Paris.

We decided to have lunch at Le Grill, a very “tony” restaurant that sits atop the hotel and offers an astonishing view of the harbor of Monaco, the royal palace (of Princess Grace fame) and the sparkling Mediterranean with its yachts sailing in and out of harbor.

Le Grill came to my attention when reading a crime novel by Quentin Jardine that is set mostly in Monte Carlo – a clear demonstration of the sometime level of my literary sophistication. Upon reading the description of Le Grill, I suggested that we lunch there.

Spectacular view of Monaco’s harbor from Le Grill.

And what a lunch it was; delicious to the point of disbelief and served by a coterie of skilled and attentive waiters.

This lunch was an adventure in the art of cuisine as well as drowning in the ambience of luxury of the most agreeable sort.

I’ll let the photographs speak.

And for the movie – “To Catch A Thief” a remastered version directed by Alfred Hitchcock, starring Grace Kelly and Cary Grant and set on the Riviera and in the Hotel de Paris.

Movie Review:

The Good Thief

Directed by Neil Jordan — Fox Searchlight 2003
Starring: Nick Nolte

“The Good Thief” is an unusual “heist” movie set on the contemporary Riviera – all of its action takes place in Nice or Monte Carlo.

Southern coast of Monte Carlo, rapidly approaching Italy.

Nolte plays Bob, a master thief who faces life in a French prison if apprehended one more time. Bob is also a heroin addict struggling to “recover.”

In many ways, this movie is completely conventional but its unique elements stand out so conspicuously that, overall, it doesn’t appear conventional at all.

Because it is a remake of a French classic “Bob, le Flambeure” and is set where it is, it carries an overall feeling of Gallic insouciance that belies the tension of the high tech robbery that is in progress.

Neil Jordan, the director of such excellent and award-winning films as “The Crying Game” and “The Butcher Boy”, creates the story against the seamy side of the Riviera – capturing the feel and danger of the backstreets and clubs of Nice which is, like Marseilles, a seaport on the Mediterranean. The atmosphere of “The Good Thief” is the polar opposite of that presented in “To Catch a Thief”.

Nick Nolte has never been better as the weary thief who, according to “Time Out,” “carries the whole picture with his lined features, high tar vocal delivery and air of gentlemanly savoir faire in low-rent circumstances.”

Bob presents to us an appealing character – a good thief who, after all, is only stealing from the Riviera Casino and seems to be sincere in his attempt to “kick” his heroin habit.

Why are these men appealing? Are they just ‘bad boys” or does our attraction to them signify much more.

Well, I don’t know; but movies use this characteristic of ours constantly.

And, in that regard,let’s look at another somewhat overlooked set-in-Europe movie whose protagonist is a very likeable psychopath

Movie Review:

Ripley’s Game

Directed by Liliani Cavani — 2002
Starring: John Malkovich

An American, Italian, Great Britain co-production based upon the Patricia Highsmith character she created in six or so novels.

Tom Ripley is an amoral and narcissistic aesthete living in palatial circumstances in Tuscany. His considerable income comes from deals that range from just shady to plain murderous!

Tuscany Villa.

But Tom is charming, sophisticated and a ruthless improviser whenever his situation is threatened. And remember, that this Tom Ripley is an imposter who murdered the original Tom so as to inherit his wealth and lifestyle. (See “The Talented Mr. Ripley” – issue # - )

John Malkovich unerringly playing the "Older, Wiser, More Talented" Mr. Ripley.

John Malkovich is excellent in the title role; so much so that I crave more of Ms. Highsmith’s novels turned into such cinematic delicacies.

“Ripley’s Game’s” plot revolves around yet another fraudulent operation which requires a fall guy. Tom Ripley may have aesthetic principles to which he adheres but he certainly has no moral scruples – particularly when one of his “deals” starts to falter and he needs to take remedial action.

And, the always fascinating Tom Ripley stories are played out against the fabulous background of wealthy Europe – its architecture, art, cuisine and clothing.

Tom is just another deadly scoundrel to…love?

Tim Weiner recently completed a history of the CIA (Central Intelligence Agency) entitled “A Legacy of Ashes” which was based on access to new files and documents just now made public.

Mr. Weiner’s opus is a devastating expose of witlessness, arrogance, stupidity and grandiosity – all of which lead to the loss of untold lives. After reading this, it’s very difficult not to chortle every time a somber “intelligence” report is read into the political record as being an important, if not vital contribution, to the critical debate of the day.

The startling facts are, according to Tim Weiner, that the Agency (and its World War II predecessor – the OSS) have had little if any successes accompanied by so many failures which include the loss of a multitude of lives. The situation would be utterly laughable if it wasn’t so serious. Apparently, the U.S. Intelligence Service:

1. Had no knowledge of the impending fall of the Soviet Union or the Berlin Wall
2. At the height of the Cold War, when we were all shivering in our fall-out shelters (or at the cinema, laughing at Stanley Kubrick’s “Dr. Strangelove”), the Russians had exactly 4 nuclear missiles capable of intercontinental striking! Of course, we were led to believe that they had hundreds while we were constructing thousands (score one for the aerospace industry!)
3. The CIA never successfully penetrated the Kremlin at any meaningful level
4. Meanwhile the KGB successfully ran moles within the Agency and the FBI at the highest possible levels
5. This type of Agency failure and Soviet success was repeated across all of the areas of conflict
6. During the OSS days its leader, “Wild Bill” Donovan conceived of mad plans and missions and sent some 50 or so badly trained agents to parachute behind enemy lines, never to be heard from again
7. This crazed practice continued into the CIA days re Eastern Europe with the same disasterous results

And the above is all I can remember off the top of my head without going back into this excellent book.

“A Legacy of Ashes: The history of the CIA” by Tim Weiner.

Movie Review:

Breach

Directed byDirected by Billy Ray — Universal 2007
Starring: Chris Cooper, Ryan Philippe

 

An extremely good film, again made even better by “A Legacy of Ashes.” This is the story of Robert Hanssen – the highest place mole in the history of, in this case, the FBI – but the overall irony was not lessened for me.

Robert Hanssen being captured after months of surveillance.

The story of the movie is the cat and mouse game being played by his assistant/would-be captor, Ryan Philippe.

It seems that Hanssen was in it for the money – 1.5 million dollars over the years – but also anger concerning management and policies but not ideology like, say, Kim Philby who was a Communist.

Chris Cooper plays the creepy Hanssen extremely well – he is totally believable in all his extremities (sexual to religious).

Hanssen is now serving life imprisonment in solitary confinement in a maximum security prison in Colorado.

Again, the movie is available from Netflix.

Movie Review:

13 Rue Madeleine

Directed byDirected by Henry Hathaway — Fox 1947
Starring: James Cagney, Richard Conte

 

I remember being stirred to great heights of patriotism by this film – I saw it at the Colonial Theatre when I was eleven years old. I was so impressed by the courage and the daring of James Cagney as he parachuted behind Nazi occupied territory to carry out a seemingly impossible mission. 

Of course, according to Weiner it was impossible and poor old Jimmy Cagney, in reality ill-trained and unprepared met his death. However, “13 Rue Madeleine” is a very good movie of its day – made even better by the publication of “A Legacy of Ashes.”

Henry Hathaway directs a taut and suspenseful story of espionage – available from Netflix.

I’ve always been an avid reader – particularly of fiction – so when I discovered the works of John le Carré I was excited.

The author of nineteen novels (I believe that all deal with the world of espionage), le Carre was educated at Oxford, taught at Eton and served in the British Foreign Service for a number of years.

Michel and Carmen enjoying a good read on the beach in Cannes.

His novels are always engrossing to me – depicting the lives of spies as anything but glamorous – more often than not sleazy and contemptible. But, when reading, I always feel that he knows what he is talking about and that his novels are grand examples of Werner Herzog’s idea of fiction as “ecstatic truth!” – meaning that fiction is capable of rendering basic truth in sublime or rapturous expressions that affect the emotions powerfully.

Reading my book with the waves at my feet.

I read le Carré’s last novel “Absolute Friends” on the beach here in Cannes two years ago and a glorious as well as a thoughtful read it was! His novels and characters always appear real to me as well as the issues being explored. The territory most often covered is that of the Cold War period but with the collapse of the Soviet Empire other vital issues such as the rapaciousness of the pharmaceutical companies came to his literary attention, and thus ours, as novels such as “The Constant Gardener” appeared.

I’ve always thought that if he was to take only the slightest of moves towards non-fiction, he would find himself in the celebrated world of Truman Capote’s “In Cold Blood” or Norman Mailer’s “The Executioner’s Song” – both, by the way, further examples of “ecstatic truth.”

Truman Capote & Norman Mailer

Which, I guess, is a kind of heady way of saying that the fictional world of le Carré actually exists for me along with the veracity and pointedness of the ethical issues examined.

Well, vital global concerns or vulgar romantic ripoffs of same, novels of all kinds are scattered across the chaise lounges and yachts of the cote d’azure – presumably bringing relaxation, entertainment and probably some enlightenment along the way.

And, as far as I’m concerned, lounging in one of those chairs under the Mediterraean sun sipping a “boisson” of my choice while reading a novel by John le Carré, is one of the great delights of my life.

And now made easier and more convenient, as I’ve recently purchase a Kindle – the electronic reader from Amazon. It is the size of a trade paperback and capable of holding some 200 full-length books as well as blogs, newspapers and magazines. All of this is contained in one simple wireless, electronic device that can be read easily in the direct sunshine.

Here the Kindle is shown with the reading light

I’m greatly relieved to see that no more suitcases of books will be required for the trans-atlantic travel in my future; but, alas, also no more languid perusing of favorite bookshelves, sensuous caressing of exotic pages nor repeated analyses of my most interesting bookcovers; not to mention the inability to loan to a friend my latest literary excitement – and, diminished visits to the Cannes English Bookstore.

The first book that I read in my new kindle was “A Legacy of Ashes” – the history of the CIA by Tim Weiner; and it is an eye-opener!

If we fear that the “Agency” is incompetent and/or corrupt, then this expose (based upon recent documents made public) will confirm all of them – and add new ones!

There are two movies that strike to the heart of what has been written above: one is “The Spy Who Came In From The Cold” based upon an early le Carre novel and stars an excellent Richard Burton while the second one is "The Constant Gardener”; a more recent film which based on a more recent le Carré novel.

Movie Review:

The Spy Who Came In
From The Cold

Directed by Martin Ritt — Paramount 1965
Starring: Richard Burton, Claire Bloom

On December 24th, 1965, Bosley Crowther wrote in the New York Times; “Whether its tale of subtle intrigue or double and triple-cross among international espionage agents and Communist secret police is one that actually happened is of minor consequence. The film makes you believe it could have happened. And that’s the remarkable thing.”

But, happily, that aspect of apparent reality which is so appealing about John le Carré’s work, has been brought to the screen by director Martin Ritt and his genuine “movie star” actor, Richard Burton. Burton has very successfully buried his “star” personae into the role of Alec Leamas, an alcoholic, British agent who has one more mission to perform behind the Berlin Wall before coming in from the “cold” and into retirement.

Checkpoint Charlie at the Berlin Wall.

I visited the Berlin Wall one dreary morning in 1970 – meteorologically dreary because it was November and drizzling, philosophically dreary because it was, after all, the Wall and all it stood for and physically dreary because I was suffering from a colossal hangover which left me nauseous and feeling mysteriously responsible and guilty.

But the Wall of this movie looks exactly like the real thing as does Alec Leamas, the burned-out agent and Nan, the mousy but cheerfully idealistic communist librarian played by Claire Bloom – who Alec, in a final display of good intentions, falls in love with her innocence.

Alec and Nan attempting their escape, as organized by Mundt.

Looking at this rather pitiful exercise in human vagaries from the perspective of today with its advantage of hindsight, it all feels “stupid” and, at best, unnecessary.

However, this was the early 1960’s and the Red Menace was thought to be real! It is only now that we know that the threat was hollow and only a triumph of Soviet deception.

But, in this movie, all feels true and we are caught up in the drama of very ordinary people called upon to do extraordinary things while battling such normal problems as alcoholism, idealism and the general inability to recognize the capacity for savage duplicity that seemingly never deserts the human race.

Treacherous plans further laid out.

“The Spy Who Came In From The Cold,” made forty-five years ago, feels as fresh as stepping barefoot into this morning’s dog turd.  It doesn’t feel very good; rather creepy in fact, but we know that it is of the reality of our universe – and not likely to change much.

In that, it is both depressing and exhilarating!

 

Movie Review:

The Constant Gardener

Focus Features - 2006
Starring: Ralph Fiennes, Rachel Weisz, Bill Nighy

An excellent example of a le Carre work that is dealing with matters other than the Cold War. The setting is Africa and the issue is testing potentially lethal pharmaceuticals upon innocents in collusion with both foreign and local governments.

Typical poverty-stricken African villagers being used as guinea pigs
by ruthless pharmaceutical companies.

So it deals with rampant capitalism and still-active colonialism. Ralph Fiennes plays Justin Quayle, a British diplomat, who stumbles upon a deadly plot around these pharmaceuticals. While both subtle and obvious, the director, Fernando Weivelles of “City of God” fame imbues the film with urgency and a palpable sense of place. Justin Quayle is no conventional hero but he knows right from wrong and once his wife is murdered he, like Alec Leamas, unflinchingly attempts to do his best!

Justin Quayle contemplating the evils of colonialism, capitalism, and his government.

An excellent film, with a gorgeously photographed Africa along with a superb, indigenous soundtrack – not to be missed. A perfect companion for “A Spy Who Came In From The Cold!

“Murderer flees by helicopter” headlines the story of a convicted killer who escaped from a prison in Grasse; a town just north of Cannes famous for its perfumeries not its prisons.

However, Pascal Payet “was whisked away by a group of armed men who had hijacked the helicopter from the Cannes-Mandelieu airport.” This was Payet’s second escape. This story was found in “The Riviera Times,” a monthly news magazine in the English language. It pointed out to me that Riviera life, as I see it, on its highly polished surface is a romantic and surreal view.

French Gendarmares wearing the traditional kepi.

Because, like everywhere, there is sadness, tragedy and, of course, criminals. The Cannes Municipal Police are in evidence of course but I never see them in action aside from traffic situations; (unless, come to think of it, I count the time, decades ago, when I was arrested for public misbehavior at the old casino).

And, naturally, where there is significant wealth as there is here in Cannes – on conspicuous display as well – there will be thieves; in abundance. Thus “The Riviera Times” in another story, warns readers to, at all times, keep your car door and windows locked due to the incidence of carjacking here. This warning was repeated by the genial fellow at Budget when I rented a car for the day.

Lord Brougham discovered Cannes in the late nineteenth century when quarantined there while on his way to Nice. He fell in love with what was then a quaint fishing village.

So there are cracks in the veneer of the beautiful life on the cote d’azure – “quelle dommage” – but no surprise unless you, like me, are hopelessly romantic and a real sucker for “veneer.”

A very sad moment occurred two evenings ago as we sauntered along the very well-lit Rue d’Antibes returning from seeing “The Bourne Ultimatum” in English with French subtitles. The movie experience had been of the sort that bolsters your spirit and leaves you feeling “good.”

But, as we passed by the Hotel Gray D’Albion with its arcade of shops and salons de the, we noticed a large crowd forming along the next block with the street itself filling with police vehicles and firetrucks. Everyone was looking up and, sure enough, what appeared was a quite young person who was perched on the ledge of an eight-story building presumable preparing to jump to his or her death. The emergency personnel were talking to this youth via loud hailer and my assumption is that they were on the roof as well.

On this roof a young person was deciding his or her fate.

So there exists despair as well and from my experience with troubled young people, this kind of last resort is often tied in to drug use – certainly the great plague of North America’s youth.

I’m confident that this episode had a happy ending because no daily newspaper reported the incident to my knowledge but, at the time, our spirits were saddened and, once again, reminded that what we see as a glamorous Riviera life has its normal pockets of average people facing real, and often acutely demoralizing problems, like everybody else.

And criminals everywhere, cote d’azure or Paris, experience the same problem – how to go straight? And this seems to be a most difficult question as the odds are generally unfavorable. Rehabilitated, former criminals are a very small group!

The movie that comes to mind is a generally disregarded and battled-scarred effort by director Ulu Grosbard and stars Dustin Hoffman. “Straight Time” is the story of a small-time criminal attempting to go straight within a system where the cards are stacked against him – I’ve always thought it to be a great film.

Movie Review:

Straight Time

Directed by Ulu Grosbard — Warner Bros 1978
Starring: Dustin Hoffman,Theresa Russell, Gary Busey, Emmet T. Walsh, Harry Dean Stanton

When I first saw this movie I was absolutely knocked out! In my mind, it was the “sleeper” movie of the year – and, if you’re at all like me, you get a particular joy and sense of satisfaction from “stumbling upon” an excellent film.

For some reason, “Straight Time” was bum-rapped even before the production was completed. Dustin Hoffman was slated to direct the film and actually started the work but was replaced by Ulu Grosbard early on – leaving wounds undoubtedly. In any event, the movie was troubled from its inception and, I believe, essentially “written off” by its studio.

First hot dog after being released from prison.

However, when you look at “Straight Time’s” bona fides, they are impeccable. Adapted from the novel “No Beast So Fierce” by the fascinating, career criminal Eddie Bunker, it features a cast of excellent supporting players (Busey, Walsh, Russell, Stanton) who all play to the top of their abilities adding a grittiness, edge and authenticity to this chilling work.

Dustin Hoffman is Max Dembo, an appealing loser, who has just been released from a 7 year prison stretch for armed robbery. The story deals with his frustrating and ultimately unsuccessful attempt to rejoin the straight world in the face of an inordinately difficult parole/probation bureaucracy.

Max’s first meeting with supercilious parole officer.

Max Dembo is a small-time crook and, right from the outset of the story, the audience sees that his re-integration into society will fail. I recognized Max as a loser but, at the same time, liked him – a testimony to Dustin Hoffman’s intricate portrayal.

Some time ago, I was directing a television portrait of Sonny Grosso, one of the two famous New York City detectives who broke the “French Connection” case. He mentioned that the idea of going back to prison wasn’t so bad for most criminals because, as Sonny said, “all of their friends are there!”

And, if you add the fact that most criminals are only trained for a career beyond the law, then you have to ask the question – what are they going to do when they “get out.”

In “Straight Time,” Max Dembo has the additional hurdle of being assigned to a particularly nasty and sleazy parole officer (superbly played by Emett T. Walsh). I really felt for Max as he tried to cope with this bastard and experienced emotionally both the thrill of approval and the despair of defeat on behalf of Max as the inevitable, violent clash between Max and his parole officer lights up the screen and the film.

Max finally rebels and humiliates his tormentor.

There are really two parts to “Straight Time” – the first being Max’s struggle to deal with the demands of normal society; and the second being his decision to go back to thieving and the aftermath of that decision.

As mentioned above, the decision to return to the old, villainous ways is not too difficult – because, at least in Max’s case, that is all he knows how to do; it’s an adrenaline-charged life and going back to prison isn’t all that bad.

When Max begins his heists and recruiting his old cronies, the movie picks up an edge and intensity not seen or felt before in the film. “Straight Time” becomes exciting at this point (not that it is ever boring).

While robbing a jewelry store Max returns to his old exciting self.

Max becomes a different man, once his path is clear. He is quick, determined and explosive; gone is the uncertainty and the barely-contained obsequiousness demanded by his parole officer. 

Max is now a “free man;” able to do what he wants, when he wants for as long as this ride lasts. He takes off – and so does the movie.

In my experience, “Straight Time” is a much overlooked piece of work. Even Dustin Hoffman fans often are not aware of its existence, let alone its excellence.

I highly recommend it – you will not be disappointed.

Two bits of reading material and an internet excursion prompted this report – one from Marlon Brando’s autobiography wherein he states that Bernardo Bertolucci, when discussing “Last Tango in Paris,” said that the movie was about whether individuals could have repeated instances of anonymous sex without forming personal attachments.

The other was from the August 19, 2007 issue of the New York Times with its review of the then upcoming, new HBO dramatic series on marriage “Tell Me You Love Me.” The Times article states that this series, “while more sexually explicit than any other show on TV, is more clinical than erotic, more analytical than dramatic: and, ultimately leaves the viewer with the feeling that marriages ‘hinge, or collapse, on sexual intercourse’.”

Love on the beach.

The article concludes with the idea that modern relationships have little to do with real intimacy and that even within marriage the sex act is a matter of single expression – a kind of masturbation in the presence of another. At least, according to one writer, that seems to be where TV is headed in its depiction of that institution. “Californication” from Showtime is another example and, of course, there is the sexual phantasmagoria of the internet and satellite radio which are, almost by definition, singular in their sexual expression.

Here in Cannes, my subjective observation is that the existence of anonymous sex is very much alive and happening. After all, there are the party-goers dancing the nights away on the tables at “Le Chunga” or at their own lavishly supplied private “soiree’s.” How many office “friendships” have been consummated in Cannes, the exotic, far-away place where, like Las Vegas, what happens here stays here. Within Cannes there are private clubs for that cater to individuals of varous sexual persuasions and that offer action with no holds barred — not for the faint hearted.

But, of course, that’s the case with all conventions; it’s just that Cannes seems more exotic and erotic than say, Houston or Chicago; however, what do I know?

Not much; the fact that I’ve been around for quite awhile makes me no expert in this area – but I want to include “Last Tango in Paris” as a movie to discuss.

However, I do agree with the NY Times article quoted above – TV programs like HBO’s “Tell Me You Love Me” and Showtime’s “Californication” are about sex in a very isolated way while the “old-fashioned” ideas about the nature of committed relationships are being ignored. But maybe these new shows actually do reflect the tenor of the times. We all know that the pendulum swings back and forth in human affairs and that in the mid-twentieth century ideas about sexual conduct were constrained while to-day, in comparison, they are quite free - particularly among the young, of course.

In regard to the internet, I’m a relative newcomer but in recent forays into this strange land, I’ve come across some interesting “evidence” of contemporary sexual mores that I think support the contention that much of to-day’s sexual action is solitary and insular in expression while dual or collective in a technological context.

For example, Sirius Satellite Radio features the presence of Howard Stern, the celebrated “shock jock” and self-proclaimed “King of All Media.” Stern’s presence is very powerful and dominates the programming of two of Sirius’ 200 or so channels. I actually enjoy Howard Stern’s intelligence and market savvy, but his acolytes who complete his full programming schedule really “lower the bar,” however I must say still fascinate me. I drive a lot and my radio is rarely tuned to anything but the Howard Stern stations (Sirius Satellite Radio 100 and 101).

One of Howard Stern’s follow-up programs is “Bubba, the Love Sponge Show” – a vulgar exercise in prurience that is truly astounding. 

The Stern program to some extent, but Bubba’s show, for sure, challenge the Taliban itself in their attitude towards, and their treatment of, women. The Taliban crowd insists that their women be covered head to toe while Bubba and his boys ask that their female guests take all of their clothes off! On a radio show!! (There is method to their madness of course, because Bubba has his radio program taped and shown as “BubbaRaw.com” on the net at 9.95 per month). You must catch at least one episode of “Bubba Raw” wherein you will hear at least one of the regular cast lick their lips as some young girl disrobes to such brilliant observations as “aahh…what nice titties” (accompanied by soundboard effects).

Her partial disrobing takes place within minutes of arriving at the mic.

The Taliban wants to eradicate any public sense of sexuality in any manner for their women while the Bubba Bunch want public sexuality – I don’t see much intimacy or caring or love on display in either rubric!

These fellows really push their women around too; (who am I talking about? – the Taliban fellows? – ‘fraid not). I saw (and heard) Bubba go into paroxysms of vicious anger over the fact that one of their regular “sexy girls” had put on some weight and, while reprimanding her, he actually snarled, threateningly, “I’d like to smash you in your Jap teeth!” Maybe Bubba was "putting on a show" – because he strikes me most of the time as a nice fellow. I actually like his show despite his apparent attitude towards women.

The girl, Akira, cried – and took the abuse; a truly sad moment in the tide of convergence. But these young women are quite ready for this; many work in the sex trades while it appears, with others, there may be other challenges besides no other kind of work being available.

So – I think, that in to-days weird world with its ever-increasing technology of isolation, within an environment of lonely segregation, repeated instances of anonymous sex between two people without forming personal relationships is quite possible. And if you add an exotic location plus considerable wealth along with the particular brand of French “libertinage,” maybe the answer to Bertolucci’s question is “Yes!”

More love on the beach.

But, I don’t think that was the answer supplied by his absorbing and challenging film “Last Tango in Paris.”

Movie Review:

Last Tango in Paris

Directed by Bernardo Bertolucci — MGM 1972
Starring: Marlon Brando, Maria Schneider

“Last Tango in Paris” and Marlon Brando present to us a man in such a spontaneous expression of crisis that it leaves the co-star and the audience in a state of fascination, shock and bewilderment. 

Paul and Jeanne are about to embark on a harrowing journey.

I was delighted personally when I saw the first notices re “Last Tango in Paris” because, as one of the legions of Brando fans, I was always waiting for him to lose weight and to return to his place in the cinematic firmament as the leading man who could and would single-handedly carry and define an excellent movie.

“The Godfather” was also made in 1972. So, Brando had already made a comeback – but Don Corleone was a character role and he had a fantastic supporting cast.

In “Last Tango in Paris,” he is the leading man (much slimmed-down) and this Franco-Italian art film is essentially a two-hander thus allowing no respite for Brando. In addition, according to his autobiography, Bertolucci expected him to improvise all his dialogue; working from the barest of ideas. So this movie is, in essence, a showcase for Marlon Brando’s huge talents – and he did not let us “Brandophiles” down.

Marlon Brando in a famous improvised scene over the body of his dead wife.

Just the most cursory of glances at the reviews and comments gives us:

“Last Tango in Paris” left me feeling depleted and exhausted, perhaps in part because I had done what Bernardo had asked and some of the pain I was experiencing was my very own.” (Marlon Brando, Autobiography)

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“Bernardo Bertolucci’s “Last Tango in Paris” is one of the great emotional experiences of our time. It’s a movie that exists so resolutely on the level of emotion, indeed, that possibly only Marlon Brando, of all living actors, could have played its lead.” (Roger Ebert)

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“The most controversial film of its era.” (Leonard Maltin)

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“The film is Brando’s, his comeback after too many bad movies.” (Time Out, UK)

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“This movie is easily mocked. But in its raw, artless, innocently self-important way, it packs a punch.” (Peter Bradshaw, Guardian Unlimited, UK)

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“The movie breakthrough has finally come…Brando and Bertolucci have altered the face of an art form.” (Pauline Kael)

The anonymous relationship is maintained with difficulty.

The core story is that of a grieving, 40ish widower in an ongoing anonymous sexual tryst with a very young and nubile woman. Bertolucci has said that the film is about anonymous sex and its effect, or lack of effect, on personal relationships.

The sex is torrid, perverse, even brutal and seems even more so because Jeanne as the young woman, played by Maria Schneider, seems not to comprehend what is happening – vacuous comes to mind as an adjective to describe her state of awareness.

Roger Ebert, in a remarkable essay, states that there are dark and dangerous places in men’s souls that, while unknowable, still need to be navigated. Paul (Brando), grieving over the suicide of his wife (or did he murder her?) seeks this kind of relentless, mechanical and demeaning sex for solace as he navigates his very dark place.

Paul leads Jeanne into bleak and joyless territory.

The question about anonymous sex is answered but so many more difficult questions are raised and left unanswered. I’m inclined to believe that the original question may be what Bertolucci thought, or intended, the movie to be about, but that the film that resulted from the combination of his and Brando’s art make that original thought superficial and possibly banal compared to the other inquiries that are unleashed by this emotionally furious, violent and, ultimately, very sad story.

“Last Tango in Paris” is a must-see, adult film that, while flawed, affords us glimpses into a man’s tortured soul through the stupendous, all-out, caution-to-the-winds performance of the greatest actor the screen has ever seen!

There are many movies with gay themes that have been made over the past two decades – many of them quite excellent.

There are two, in particular, that come to mind for comment here. “Far From Heaven,” starring Dennis Quaid and Julianne Moore and directed by Todd Haynes – made in 2002 – is set in the 1950’s and shot in the style of the famous melodramas of that era. (“All That Heaven Allows” starring Jane Wyman and directed by Douglas Sirk, for example)

Frank and Cathy Whitaker with their happy family.

This movie captures the agony and turmoil of the homosexual man; in this case, a man who is married with children. It follows his furtive, late-night journeys through dark alleys and the local dives and, ultimately into the center of his disintegrating marriage. “Far From Heaven,” the winner of many awards, strains mightily for verisimilitude but is, in my opinion, overburdened by attempting to shoot in the 50’s style. Interesting but, ultimately, strangely distracting. However, it captures the anguish of the homosexual professional man of that period!

“Cruising” with Al Pacino and directed by William Friedkin is a creepy thriller set in the late ‘70’s in New York’s gay S&M bars. Pacino plays an undercover cop on the trail of a serial killer who targets those gay men who frequent this wild and lurid world.

Al Pacino haunts the infamous bar scene where the serial killer stalks his victims.

Pacino’s performance and the background of the leather bars with their notorious, sexual excess distinguish an otherwise mid-level, serial-killer story.

But, shot in 1979, it reveals a societal attitude towards homosexuality that has not changed all that much from two decades earlier. The resolution of “Cruising” is provocative and designed to start conversations! This plus the scary and shocking mise en scene give “Cruising” the cult status it now enjoys.

I have very little idea of what it must have been like for mature, professional gay men in the rigidly structured society of North America in the 1940’s and 1950’s.

Here in Cannes to-day, like the western world in general, gay men and women go about their business as fundamentally unobstructed as the rest of us. I see evidence of this each and every day and it is heartening to conclude that, at least here, we progress! But, oh my, it sure wasn’t always like this.

A late afternoon stroll along the Croissette.

In my own family, there was a deep secret held so strongly that I didn’t know the truth until just a few years ago. This very sad truth is that my uncle, who was a prominent and handsome and distinguished lawyer lived in the twin northern Canadian communities of Port Arthur and Fort William – combined population of about 50,000 – was a homosexual! This part of Canada, known as the "Land of the Sleeping Giant," is perched between the edge of Lake Superior to the east and the great wilderness to the Northwest, a wilderness that stretched through the Arctic, and eventually to Russia.

 

Married to a beautiful, charming, and ultimately a gracious and compassionate woman, he came to an understanding of his sexual proclivities only after much confusion, guilt and shame.

He was the favorite relative of mine and it saddened me so much when I finally was told why he shot himself – the truth telling came much later after I, as a very young man, discovered his body in his snowed-in cabin beside a silent and frozen lake one bone-chilling winter morning. His suicide came after, in to-day’s parlance, he had been threatened with being “outed” if he accepted his appointment as a judge – his career’s crowning achievement.

Cabin beside the lake.

The facts and conditions surrounding the taking of his own life were, of course, covered up and he was buried, with all attendant ceremony, in the sacred ground of his Catholic Church.

What an unnecessary, tortured and false life he must of led in that era of the moral straight jacket! My uncle was a wonderful and admirable man who was known for his kindness, gentility and professional acumen.

So much waste! And an end that had to be lonely, full of despair and shot through with demoralization. 

 

This all came to mind to-day as I sat on the beach in Cannes in June of 2007 – a time and place so removed from that icy and dreadful morning when I found my uncle – dead from a self-inflicted gunshot to his head. This day, I see what I would might guess are gay men enjoying the fine weather and beautiful beaches of the Cote d’Azure either on holiday or working at their jobs – exuding “élan” and “joie de vivre.” They are not “trapped” as so many once were.

The movie – “House of Sand and Fog” stars Ben Kingsly, Jennifer Connelly and Shohreh Aghdashloo who won an Academy Award as Best Supporting Actress.

Movie Review:

House of Sand and Fog

Directed by Vadim Perelman, Based on the novel by Andre Dubuss III — Dreamworks 2003
Starring: Ben Kingsely, Jennifer Connelly, Shohreh Aghdashloo

This is a film and a novel about “traps” – fundamentally self-inflicted traps. Vadim Perelman, in his directorial debut, certainly distinguishes himself while expressing these ideas with a fine sense of maturity and subtlety not often seen in the work of the young and less experienced. And the same can be said for the novelist, Andre Dubuss III with this, his second novel as he deftly, and with emotional power, constructs such an intricate story.

There is another popular saying that plays in my head a great deal; taking its side along – “we like to take the softer easier way” (which I referred to in isuue #36 – The Land of the Lotus Eaters). This time it is: “Our troubles are, most often, of our own making!” I’ve tempered it somewhat from the original and probably shouldn’t have but the essential point remains. We certainly don’t like to think that we are the authors of our own misfortune but, in my case, at least, it is true!

 

In “House of Sand and Fog,” the misfortunes of the central characters are of their own making and we watch them do it to themselves – adding to our sense of anguish and horror as the seemingly inexorable events unfold with terrifying plausibility.

I don’t want to discuss the complicated narrative structure of the film but what has always struck me upon each viewing of the film and reading the novel is that we all live in traps, not unlike that of my uncle’s – even though much of that trap was self-imposed – his unwillingness to accept his homosexuality and its effect upon his career aspirations, given the tenor of the times.

In “House of Sand and Fog,” we have a flaky, alcoholic heroine (Jennifer Connelly) losing her house due to a sloppy and careless lifestyle while the protagonist, Colonel Behrani, late of the Shaw’s Iran, buys the house in a tax sale as his ticket to the redemption provided by respectability – a respectability demanded by his wife who does not really comprehend their fall from grace and exile to the United States.

These traps cause false hope, bitter anger and finally, hopeless despair. And the traps are familiar – as Mark Caro of the Chicago Tribune says, “You feel you not only know these people but where they come from.”

 

The action of the movie is punctuated by a series of beautiful shots of time-lapsed fog rolling in from the sea, over the shore and inland. My first reaction to this book-ending was that it was clichéd and weakened the film. But, as the action plays out, this technique quickly asserts itself for me as a way of placing in high relief the foolishness of the players as they struggle with their ideas of revenge, grandiosity and disappointment against the majesty of the universe and our planet.  

 

I believe that much of the power of “House of Sand and Fog” (aside from its superb acting, screenplay and technical expertise) lies in its ability to penetrate to the bottom of things leaving us as aimless, frightened creatures scrambling over one another within and over a majestic landscape that some would call God’s.

For not the last time, I’ll drag out Professor Northrop Frye to, once again, remind ourselves that “the story is us” and that these scrambling, hysterical creatures are us – as we puff out our chests, threaten and cheat our fellows, hatch one stupid scheme after another until we fall, exhausted – sometimes dead!

The weird, dinner party at the Chateau Eza, chronicled last week, was, in the great scheme of absurd social gatherings, an extremely mild example of what often occurs in conjunction with the copious ingestion of alcohol.

In my own repertoire of such experiences, there are far too many to relate for fear of embarrassment.

Vista from bar adjacent to Chateau Eza.

However, as an update, the players in that unsuccessful (from my point of view) evening are all either retired, trudging on producing U.S. network television or, as is the case with Heather, facing a bleak and arduous future.

When last seen, Heather was sitting on a bench outside her lakeside condo on the edge of Chicago. My reporter does not know who called the police, but upon their arrival they found Heather on the bench holding a bloody and dripping butcher knife in her lap while upstairs in the condo they discovered, in the bathtub, a fully-clothed but grievously wounded “boyfriend.”

Other than the comment that Heather appeared “catatonic” and “dazed,” that is the last bit of information that I have received about a person, who at one time, was a friend of mine. 

Of course, this incident reminds me of a movie – “Fatal Attraction” with Michael Douglas and Glenn Close. This is an excellent and terrifying movie because of its production excellence (director Adrian Lyne), the powerful acting and the dawning of the horrible realization that it could happen to you!

Stephen Hunter, writing in the Baltimore Sun in 1987:

“Everybody knows its mysterious power, its capacity to haunt and provoke for days, even years. It’s “The Look,” when man and woman of no acquaintance momentarily lock eyes across a crowded room and though they occupy different and perhaps unconnectable worlds, they know in a nanosecond that in bed they’d be thermonuclear. Usually, sense prevails; the eyes break off, and they step discreetly out of that queer envelope of public intimacy and go about their business…… But not in “Fatal Attraction,” a hot, scary, slick thriller that takes the premise of “The Look” and projects its consequences out into the universe of the psychotic.”

For another devastating movie that has the “Look” as its motivating premise, see report titled "Mario and Sophia" and its discussion of “Damage."

The fortified village of Eze dates to the Roman Empire and at one time, sat, impregnable, high over the Mediterranean Sea – its citizens ever watchful for invaders.

Eze, as seen from the highest corniche from Nice to Monaco.

Eze itself is a wonderful example of a “working” medieval village with its tiny and wandering cobblestone streets. And, to-day, it has all of the modern conveniences such as power and water but no automobiles are allowed. Actually they wouldn’t fit anyway!

When I say “working,” I mean that people live and work in Eze while the majority of the businesses are restaurants, art galleries and jewelry stores aimed primarily at the tourist trade.

The Chateau Eza, a luxury hotel, is located at the extreme top of this beautiful and picturesque village – a 200 metre climb which affords the visitor a dazzling view of the coastline between Nice and Monte Carlo. The Chateau Eza offers elegant and serene bedrooms with large terraces – facing the sea, of course. This sort of ritzy and breathtaking lodging is naturally very, very expensive – but failing staying there for a night or two, you get much the same idea by having lunch or dinner in their award-winning restaurant which is perched, somewhat perilously it seems, at the very edge of the mountain, “teetering” over the sea.

An example of the terrace "teetering" over the sea!

The ambience and the view are, I repeat, fabulous, the other diners are usually well-heeled, agreeable and the menu is excellent! A “recipe” for a great evening – you might say.

My Eze “adventure” began during a beautiful Miptv (April) afternoon when a producer acquaintance of mine invited myself and my companion (who will be known as “Heather”) to accompany him and his group to dinner that evening at the Chateau Eza.

My producer friend’s group was made up of two other very successful Hollywood producers – all being accompanied by striking and beautiful women who were not their wives. I, of course, was flattered to be invited into the intimate confines of such a powerful bunch and was nursing a faint hope that just possibly my charm and maturity would give fruition to at least one of my “floundering” deals.

Our little band of television, fun-seekers started out to Eze from Cannes sitting cheek to jowel in a stretch limo (it, of itself, being an anomaly in Cannes) while drinking champagne – which I knew was particularly dangerous for me but had no idea of how much booze Heather could, and would, consume that evening – with shattering results.

Once there at the chateau and settled at our primo table by the window, Act One immediately began. All were a little tipsy and in great spirits when it was noticed that at the next table sat a “silently” squabbling Kurt Russell and Goldie Hawn. You know the kind of quarrel where the participants are barely in control, snarling comments are made in badly hushed tones leading to an angry exit or two to the restroom and, finally, tears.

This is the view from Goldie and Kurt’s table during their fractious dinner.

Despite ourselves, we stared (while trying not to) thus becoming obvious and intrusive. Finally, the angry stars got up and left!

At our table, the wine flowed, the Russell-Hawn affair was discussed while I, unnoticed, started to quietly get drunk.

Somewhere around the serving of the entrees, one of the “girlfriends” noticed the “rock” on Heather’s finger. She only wore it on serious occasions, but it was a very large diamond ring that looked the size of an ice cube but likely was closer to that of a sugar cube. I had never been privy to its provenance – and now, do not care to.

One young lady asked Heather; “Aren’t you nervous walking around with something so obvious as well as being so obviously valuable?” Heather replied calmly, “No, because if anyone ever tries anything I just shoot them!” At this, there were nervous giggles and suddenly Heather became the center of attention. I looked at my watch, calculated the time remaining, poured another glass or wine and resigned myself to the inevitable – this evening was not going to end well!

Heather, who to this point in the evening, had spoken almost not at all, inexplicably took her dinner companion’s question as a cue to begin a long and rambling soliloquy that revealed among other things, the state of her inebriation. She added coolly, by way of explaining the earlier remark, that she was no stranger to gunplay, having shot, in the mouth, with his own gun, a “dirty” narcotics officer who was holding her hostage in a run-down, lakeshore motel on the outskirts of Toronto. The “hostage-taking” was apparently the result of a disintegrating cocaine deal. And this tidbit was just the beginning!

A dangerous woman!

Heather went on to point out that she and the cop were quite lucky as the bullet only took out a few of his teeth and a good section of his cheek – thus, he lived and she, not being guilty of murder, only had to serve a few years in the maximum security prison for women.

She did note, however, that while her prison experience was horrible, it became endurable once she paid for and secured protection while “in the joint.”

From this point on, the remainder of the evening focused on Heather as she answered every question eagerly and in detail demonstrating an indefatigable and drunken “joi de vivre” while indulging in a kind of “dinner invasion!”

The evening at the Chateau Eza ended with Heather being helped down the difficult 200 metre descent over damp and sleek cobblestones to the waiting limo while her conversation became increasingly incomprehensible and her heels increasingly a liability.

As for me, I kissed all thoughts of any deal goodbye, fell off my chair with considerable clamor, staggered out to the famous terrace high above the darkened sea, and threw up!

“Dinner Rush,” with Danny Aiello at his best, is a superb, little surprise of a movie that I promise is enjoyable and a very good companion piece for the “Eze” soiree. 

I don’t drink anymore.

Movie Review:

Dinner Rush

Directed by Bob Giraldi — 2003
Starring: Danny Aiello, Sandra Bernhard

“Dinner Rush” is small and contained, but within its lexicon, very satisfying and enjoyable — some reviewer comments:

“You’ll be rewarded with some of the finest ensemble acting of the year.” (New Times) “An entertaining melodrama and a knowing satire of the modern-day restaurant biz.” (Hollywood Reporter) “A movie of rich specifics and stylistic creativity that clearly comes from the heart.” (UK Critic)

“Dinner Rush” is redolent of “Big Night,” the sleeper restaurant movie of 1996, directed by Stanley Tucci, but whereas “Big Night” is compassionate, gentle, and humorous, “Dinner Rush” is compassionate, edgy and violent. The latter movie is set in a trendy, Tribeca eatery on its way up and out of the bookmaking operation it fronted for so long under the guiding hands of Luigi — aka Louis or Gigi — played superbly by Danny Aiello.

Luigi and Udo discussing ownership of the restaurant.

The movie takes place over the course of one day where such fundamental questions as these are asked (and answered):

•  When (if ever) will Udo, the contemporary and trendy chef take over the family business from his father Luigi?
• How will the seemingly, conflict-averse Luigi keep the very dangerous musclemen known as Black and Blue from taking over a large part of the restaurant?
• How will Luigi deal with Duncan, the sous-chef and pseudo son; an inveterate gambler whose actions are endangering them all?

Black and Blue, who are attempting to muscle in on the business.

All of this seen against a frenetic kitchen attempting to please the cast of poseurs, gangsters, jacked-up Wall Street barflys, full-of-themselves food critics, et al upstairs.

This kind of kitchen is ordered chaos.

Again it reminds me of the excellent book “Heat” by Bill Buford who spent a year, gratis, in the kitchen of just such a restaurant researching his book in the making.

Much of what provides us with such solid entertainment is the fact that it is unexpected. Danny Aiello has been a splendid and dependable supporting actor for decades; there are no other notable castmembers – while all are excellent - and Bob Giraldi, the director, is famous for his music videos (Michael Jackson and Pat Benetar).

So, of course, we are surprised when what we get is undoubtedly one of the best pictures of 2000 – very much superior, in my opinion, to “Erin Brockovich” and “Chocolat” which were both nominated that year. And frankly, I also prefer it to “Gladiator” which won the Oscar in 2000.

Restaurant is packed on a weeknight.

What we see is a superbly-crafted film that doesn’t miss a beat, which offers a nicely different take on the Italian mobster deal, a “verite” look into a kitchen of the restaurants we/I so enjoy and lastly a take on the line “revenge is a dish best served cold” that is so satisfying that we take it to our breast as something just correctly sweet and right – like a great dessert!

This is the kind of movie that lovers of the cinema are always hoping to see – we go to the theatre or rent the DVD without great expectations and are blown away! I suppose it’s a little bit like going to the “legitimate” theatre consistently because you know that catharsis is just around a theatrical corner and when it happens it is so satisfying and exciting that your faith in the genre is renewed!

“Dinner Rush” fits into this catergorization for me.