Oh My, The Talent Herein!

JG gives props to PL for her inestimable lyricizing. Cuz I love bein here with you.

Er, These What?

Dedicated to none other than Keith H, who I can still see doing the shimmy to this song all these years later. From Lust in the Dust (1985, dir Paul Bartel).

They Called Her A Saloon Singer

And in this video you can see why and hear what the term means. Dorothy Loudon had a hit on Broadway in “Annie” just before her turn in “Ballroom,” from which this song comes. Sentimental odes to marital infidelity don’t come around that often, much less sympathetic ones, but Loudon pulls it off.

I Don’t Know If I Ought

The slattern. Of course she doesn’t, but she does it anyway. Here, the estimable Ginger Rogers does the infamous Black Bottom in Roxy Hart (1940, dir William Wellman), the basis for the musical play and Oscar-winning film Chicago.

She Wonders Where Her “Easy Rider” Has Gone!

Oh she does, does she? Even an old pro like West (who by the time this has been filmed had been on the stage for thirty years) can get nervous (“I hope they tuned that pie-anny”). This most captivating of women puts on a little show for the likes of sailors (note how modern-day handsome the cigar smoking fellow is [during the audience pan]). In She Done Him Wrong (1933, dir Lowell Sherman), we even get a glimpse of the young Cary Grant — as a Salvation Army missionary bent on saving Mae. Who — for the love of Christ! — is to save whom?

What A Girl From Flatbush Can Teach Us About Broadway

Valley of the Dolls is a mess of a film (1967, dir Mark Robson), and in it Susan Hayward tells off Patty Duke — yes, that Patty Duke — in no uncertain terms. It’s from the very messy J Susann novel. Everyone is a mess. Helen Lawson is based on Judy Garland, of course (note the sequined pantsuit so reminiscent of JG’s 60s ensembles). Hayward was the second choice for the role; they actually wanted the real Garland to play her on-screen self. Good Lord, what a mess it all was.

Mashup

Two of my favorite television memories: Carol Burnett’s takeoff on Gloria Swanson in “Sunset Boulevard” and the Dean Martin roasts. If you are a child of the 1970s you know just what I mean.

Oh No She Di’n't

And I don’t know to whom I’m referring.  Rock Hudson and Mae West light up the legendary 1957 Academy Awards.  Here the two, um. . . friends spark to “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.”  Fantastic!

Le Jazz Hot

I’m not sure I like this movie all that much (it is too long) but I really like Lesley Anne Warren’s arc of expression. And, of course, Dame Julie’s vast octave range is a marvel. From Victor/Victoria (1982, dir Blake Edwards).

For the Love of Christ

Bette, what the hell were you thinking? Here the unflappable and heretore uncorruptible soi-disant artiste joins the ranks of Lorne Green and Leonard Nimoy.