This week was all about re-watches; none of these were new to me, though I hadn’t seen West Side Story since high school, I’d forgotten how great it was.

  1. Rear Window (Alfred Hitchcock, 1954): This is another one that gets better every time. This time I kept noticing a) the great sound design and b) the totally awesome lighting. Jimmy Stewart’s apartment is always dark in the back just like a movie theatre omg. This movie is about voyeurism, you see.
  2. Singin’ in the Rain (Gene Kelly/Stanley Donen, 1952): Oh, I love you Singin’ in the Rain. I think it is a pretty great movie, and it fills me with joy. I made some actual critical notes about it for class, but it basically just fills me with glee. There’s always like a new thing that makes me laugh every time. This time it was from the “Broadway Melody” sequence, where he’s progressing from burlesque to high class shows: the little swagger he does in the “classy” production struck me as hilarious this time. Right at the beginning of this clip:
  3. All That Jazz (Bob Fosse, 1979): I also really love this movie. So, so much. It is semi-autobiographical and self-reflexive and about this guy facing up to his own mortality, but I will kick anyone who calls it “indulgent.” It has a musical number-open heart surgery scene, you guys. (Containing the immortal line: “Stop screwing around, Daddy!”) It ends with the hero singing “Bye Bye Life,” to the tune of “Bye Bye Love.” With Ben Vereen. It has lots of sequins. “Showtime, folks.” Even Alex’s grandmother likes this movie.
  4. West Side Story (Robert Wise/Jerome Robbins, 1961): Like I said, I hadn’t seen this since high school. I remembered how fabulous the choreography was (especially “Cool”), but I’d forgotten how gorgeous the rest of it was. Two things that struck me this time were the way that you hear street sounds only when really bad shit is going down, and how gorgeous the whole thing is, cinematographically. Look at the way they’re framed. The light from the stained glass doors in her room basically separates them, lighting them in different colours, and at one point, they’re actually shot through her headboard, so there are like “bars” separating them. So you get this ominous sense that they are doomed even as the promise of the song seems the brightest. And then, at the end, Maria reprises it, but without any kind of underscoring. And I cry. Oh, how I cry.
  5. Update: Andy Hardy’s Blonde Trouble (George B. Seitz, 1944): I kind of forgot that I watched this, which should tell you something about its quality. The main storyline involves Andy Hardy going to college and dealing with some comedic misunderstandings and so forth; it is not bad, but it is kind of mediocre and charming and easy to watch in the way that sitcoms are now. The B-story is about how Andy’s dad gets tonsilitis, and it is kind of fascinating, because his doctor turns out to be Chinese-American. The surprising part about this is how totally not racist this movie is (especially because I associate “horrible Asian stereotypes” and Mickey Rooney). The doctor is capable and a nice guy, and is good humoured in explaining to basically everyone that yes, he speaks English, he’s from Brooklyn, etc. (Weirdly, if you look at the actor’s filmography, it looks he played the same character in like, 5 unrelated movies between 1943 and 1947).

Have a good week, everyone. Next week’s Weekly Movies might be late because I’ll be home for Thanksgiving.