She Done Him Wrong. Lowell Sherman. 1933. ⚄

[fifteen minutes pass]

I’m no Mae West expert… I mean, I know she was a sex pot actress, and I’ve probably seen her in (many?) movie before, but I … just can’t remember? So I was shocked to hear her talk in this: She basically sounds like a 30s Snooki!

I love it!

It’s just amazing. She’s sneering all the time, talking in 30s gangsta talk: “See here, whatcha talkin aboot!” It’s riveting.

[ten minutes pass]

Cary Grant! Oh yeah, this is his first really big movie: Mae West allegedly saw him on the lot and liked the look of his gams. Or something!

He’s so… inexperienced. He doesn’t position himself to his advantage in front of the camera, so there’s a lot of odd angles. And he hasn’t quite landed on a dialect yet, so some of the vowels sounds like he’s an inbred lerd. It’s hilarious.

I love this. I have no idea what the plot is, but I love this. It’s not a “good movie”; but it’s so weird that… that…

It’s that weird.

[the end]

I’m still loving it! West is hamming every scene up to the max, and the rest of the actors are trying to keep up with her. It’s delightful.

I still don’t quite know what the plot was? Did this have a plot? Who needs a plot! It’s great.

(And kinda shocking. The scene with the killing is … “eeeh?” I guess it’s funny because she talked with an eastern European accent?)

Now I want to watch all movies Mae West was in to see if they’re this good. It’s impossible not to be charmed by her in this movie.

Well that’s a word jumble:

Louise Beavers was the only African American actress to be brought aboard the film by West personally. She wanted a black woman to appear opposite her; when she did stage and screen work, West made it a point to act with black American actors and actresses, helping to break racial discrimination in entertainment.

But I think they’re trying to say that West was fabulous.

Bay of Angels. Jacques Demy. 1963. ⚂

[half an hour passes]

The actors are very easy on the eyes, of course: Everybody from Jeanne Moreau to Paul Guers and and Claude Mann. But… I mean… I think gambling is the ne plus ultra of tedium, and this is mostly images of these people standing around watching roulette.

And these are horrible, uninteresting people!

[the end]

I think I understand what Demy is going for? The entire passion thing and a romantic, dreamy existence? But I found the guy’s jealousies annoying and the woman’s obsessions boring.

And that’s Jeanne Moreau. Making her seem boring is an achievement.

But it’s a very pretty movie.

Dances With Wolves. Kevin Costner. 1990. ⚂

Yes, yes, I know, but I got this as part of a box set of westerns that turned out to be surprisingly good: Nary a stinker betwixt em. So despite Costner and his very badly applied fake beard, I’m watching this thing, which I assume is probably going to turn out to be the worst movie in history? Let’s find out.

[fifteen minutes pass]

I’m not sure whether this is a really horrible movie or whether it’s kinda funny? I’m leaning towards the former, but at least Costner got rid of the badly applied fake beard now (or is it real, just really… bad)?

But:

Takes like this makes me want to like it more.

[an hour and a half pass]

And I do! I’m totally flabbergasted: This is a very watchable movies. Sure, everybody’s way too clean and have too fabulous blow-dried hairdos, but it’s quite sweet. It does have a built-in gravitas that’s rather grating: We all know how this story ends, and it doesn’t end with these Sioux riding happily off into the sunset.

[the end]

I’m a bit conflicted. This is such a pedestrian movie in so many ways: The vistas should be breathtaking, but instead they’re… there? Did this movie even have a cinematographer or did they just get a camera operator on the cheap? Well, OK, perhaps it’s a… choice…

Nine hours of looking at Costner’s ever-less-follicled face is a lot. But it’s… it’s fine, I guess?

It’s fine.