Haiku - Beautiful

For today, a poem by yours truly. A haiku...ENJOY!

Beautiful
J. Moore

Beauty is not truth.
Truth is not beauty. What it
Is is beautiful.

© Robert Moore, 2009

I'll write more later. There's an Old English poem that I want to share, because it is really incredible for the age in which it was written. I'm still trying to find a good translation of it.

Joe the Pro

Random Movie Quote:
"Can you sleep on your stomach with such big buttons on your pajamas?" - Groucho Marx, A Night At the Opera

Fear Revisited: Rebecca

There are a lot of people out there that think that black and white films can't be scary and that the only way to scare someone is to show a character getting his finger chopped off by a pair of hedge clippers. I do weep for those who fall into this category, but for all who agree or disagree with this idea, I offer exhibit A: Rebecca (1940).

Yes, it's in black and white. This is another sad aspect of the younger generations. The fact that a lot of younger, and even some middle-aged, viewers cannot get past the fact that a movie was shot in black and white to enjoy or even see it. The sad part about this is that these people are cheating themselves out of some of the most enjoyable and most well-made films in the history of the world and subject themselves to a lower set of standards for film quality (I'm beginning to understand why films like Meet the Spartans actually get green-lit).

To those of you who don't believe that a black and white film can scare you, watch Rebecca. This is one of Alfred Hitchcock's best films. It won two Oscars in 1941, including Best Picture, as well as one for black and white cinematography. It has a great cast, including stars Joan Fontaine and Laurence Olivier, acting under the direction of one of Horror's best ever. And it scared me.

Turner Classic Movies is currently running its "31 Days of Oscar" marathon, and I happened to catch Rebecca from the opening credits (not bad for flipping through the channels. I usually catch a film at a point where it's just far enough along to confuse the hell out of me. Yet, I digress). I own the film myself, but seeing as it was right at the beginning and airing on commercial-free, uncut TCM, I knew I could enjoy it fully. Admittedly, it had been years since I had seen this masterpiece, and this recent viewing caught me off-guard and really worked its way under my skin.

Rebecca tells the story of a young woman (Fontaine) who falls in love with a rich widower named "Maxim" deWinter (Olivier). They get married very soon after meeting and falling in love and move into his mansion Manderlay, in Cornwall. The new bride soon finds that the memory of Maxim's first wife, Rebecca, still has a hold on Maxim and the entire household. A dark, twisted tale slowly begins to unravel.

I was absolutely amazed by the film, as a whole. It is entirely deserving of the two Oscars it won, and a good case could be made for other categories for which it was nominated. It really took me be surprise when I realized early in the film that I was actually scared. Now, a little bit of understanding about me. I don't get scared that easily when watching a film, unless you just have something jump out on screen from out of frame or the shadows or something. That's just cheap. Gore doesn't scare me; it just makes me sick to watch it.

Rebecca accomplishes scaring the audience by falling to neither of these two tactics. It, instead, employs a more effective means, involving lighting, staging, camera framing and angles, and the brilliant work of the main actors. You feel close to Fontaine, as you are discovering the same revelations she is at the same time as her in the film, but you never feel as if you are fully in her shoes. Not that this is a problem, mind you, it does serve the purpose of bringing the viewer fully into the terrifying situation in which she finds herself. The drab, cold, monotoned portrayal of the head housekeeper Mrs. Danvers (played marvelously by Judith Anderson, earning her a Best Supporting Actress Oscar nomination) only adds to the atmosphere of the softly-lit, shadowy house, and she will chill you to the bone. It is her charater that really begins to push the terror into your heart as you watch the film, as she gives some life and emotion to the actual house itself, especially with her cold dislike for the new Mrs. deWinter.

Then there is Olivier's character. Throughout the film, he wears a very cool and collected mask over the frantic self that is looking to get away from the memories of his lost Rebecca; he also tries to keep his new wife away from the discovery of Rebecca's memory. The best description for Maxim would be a duck on a pond; above the water, everything is calm and serene, but below the survace, those webbed feet are just kicking and fighting the currents of the water. It is his reactions to certain events in the film, such as when Fontaine comes down stairs for the masquerade ball in the same costume that Rebecca had worn, the dress in the painting in the hallway, that really help to escalate the feeling of uncertainty for the situation and a lack of personal security.

The film is nothing short of beautiful. When it's done right, black and white films show you why the silver screen was so wonderful. This film definitely accomplishes that, but it does more than just be beautiful. It is truly unnerving. After the first twenty minutes are over, you never feel comfortable. Hitchcock creates an atmosphere, using all of the elements involved in the film, to keep the viewer on the edge of his seat. I'm not going to spoil any of this film for you, if you have not yet to see it. Today, it would most likely be classified as a "thriller", and Hitchcock was great at them. Some of his most chilling tales are thrillers, like Notorious (1946) and Rear Window (1954). Rebecca is a prime example of Hitchcock's masterful ability to get the best performances he can out of some of the best actors to ever grace the world of film. He fully uses this talented cast's abilities to move the narrative and accomplish the goals of the story.

For those of you who don't get scared by black and white films, see this one. If you can't get involved in this film, then stop letting the fact that it's shot in black and white get in the way of your enjoyment of a fantastic, chilling story. Watch this film. You won't be disappointed.

[see also (b/w): Gaslight (1944), Notorious (1946), and Psycho (1960)]

Joe the Pro

A Fresh Start...

Welcome, one and all and anyone who might seek a momentary escape from the cold, grinding gnaw of reality, hoping to find refuge in the arts. Here, you will find, hopefully, a daily dose of literature, poetry, film, or other form of artistic expression, a celebration of all things bold, thoughtful, inspiring, and beautiful. Life is beautiful, and I hope I can help the world see that. We all have five senses, but not all of us use all of them. How do we measure success? Some measure it by money, power, possessions, knowledge, the amount of these things one can acheive in a lifetime. I like to think of success differently. I like to think of a successful man as one who is able to help another person use one of their senses in a way they never would have thought to use them before. If I can touch another person, if I can make them think, feel, believe something that they never would have thought of before; if I can teach a person to sing a song whose tune, if nothing else, they will remember and hum into the autumn and winter of their life, then I might then consider myself a success.

I hope you will enjoy the things I will show you in the days to come, and I hope you will enjoy our time together. Feel free to comment and contact me. I appreciate your thoughts and would love to hear what you have to say. Enjoy!

Joe the Pro