Showing posts with label Annette Bening. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Annette Bening. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 21, 2018

GLORIA IN EXCELSIS

Film noir star Grahame memorialized in wistful love story Film Stars Don't Die In Liverpool


Gloria Grahame is not much remembered these days. She was never as famous a movie star as, say, Marilyn Monroe. But, with her soft, girlish voice, sensual mouth, and trademark pout belying the gutsy toughness of the characters she played, she was a staple player in 1950s film noir, who is still much beloved by fans of the genre.

But it's Gloria Grahame at the end of her career who's the centerpiece of Film Stars Don't Die In Liverpool.

Based on a memoir written by Peter Turner, it's the story of how Turner, an aspiring young actor trying to break into showbiz, met and fell in love with the veteran actress when she was working onstage in England in 1979.


Bell and Bening: plausibly beguiling
The book is now a movie by director Paul McGuigan, a wistful tone poem about age and celebrity featuring dynamic performances from stars Annette Bening and Jamie Bell.

Peter is 28, and Gloria is almost 30 years his senior. But they bond over the craft and business of acting as he squires her around town, and pretty soon they become lovers.

When, inevitably, she moves back to Los Angeles, she invites Peter to come live with her in her trailer on the beach at Malibu — a heady fantasy for a lad from Liverpool.

That Bening's no-nonsense, often fiercely anti-glam onscreen persona is so different from the kittenish Grahame's gives the casting its interesting edge.

Grahame and Turner, real-life
Instead of trying to mimic the actress, Bening digs into the heart of a woman of a certain age whose appetite for life and the work she loves is undiminished, investing her with a vitality and playfulness that plausibly beguiles the younger man.

Gloria tells Peter the best acting advice she ever got, from Humphrey Bogart. "Keep it all inside," she says. "Let the camera come to you."


Clearly, Bell has taken this advice to heart. Many of the movie's richest moments come from Bell's still face, perceptibly filling with emotion to which he never quite gives voice.

As the movie is based on Turner's book, we have only his word that Peter was as gallant and adoring as Bell plays him.

But if this movie revives interest in Gloria Grahame's vintage movies, I'm all for it.

Here she is at her saucy best, mixing a drink an cracking wise with her big lug of a boyfriend, mob enforcer Lee Marvin, in The Big Heat (1953)

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

POST OSCAR POST



Due to popular demand (thanks, Annie!), here's a peek at my 2011 Oscar Barbies. It was such an uninspiring group of nominees, costume-wise (all modern women in contemporary clothes, yawn...) that I almost didn't bother. But I decided to do Natalie Portman in Black Swan because I just happen to have a 50-year-old Barbie ballerina outfit in my possession, and when will I ever have another chance to use it?



Once I got into the spirit of the thing, I didn't want to be rude and leave anyone out, so here's the rest of the Best Actress lineup. Most of them anyway; I opted not to do Nicole Kidman, since I didn't see Rabbit Hole. Instead, I added Melissa Leo in The Fighter, in all her trampy glory. (Clutching a pair of boxing gloves that I happened to have left over from an old Hilary Swank, Million Dollar Baby Barbie.)



To the far side of the "Oscar," that's Annette Bening in The Kids Are All Right, Jennifer Lawrence's mountain girl in the frigid Ozarks in Winter's Bone, and Michelle Williams as the embittered young wife in Blue Valentine. Like I said, not much to work with this year, but, hey, it keeps me off the streets and out of trouble.





My favorite real-life, grown-up outfit at the Oscars this year? Annette Bening's beaded, Art Deco-patterned metallic number in shades of black and silver. Okay, she missed out on the Oscar she deserved, but she gets my vote for the coolest dress—sort of a cross between slinky Fortuny glam and Robot Maria (from Metropolis). And this is absolutely the last thing I have to say about the Oscars for the rest of the year. Promise.