Sunday, May 31, 2026

RALPH FIENNES AND 1993


1993 was Ralph Fiennes' "breakout year." He had a major role in Peter Greenaway's film "The Baby of Mâcon" with Julia Ormond, and, later that year, he became known internationally for portraying the brutal Nazi concentration camp commandant Amon Göth in Steven Spielberg's "Schindler's List." For this, he was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor. Though he did not win the Oscar, but did win the Best Supporting Actor BAFTA Award for the role. His portrayal of Göth also saw him listed at number 15 on the AFI's list of the top 50 film villains.

Fiennes later stated that playing the role had a profoundly disturbing effect on him: "Evil is cumulative. It happens. People believe that they've got to do a job, they've got to take on an ideology, that they've got a life to lead; they've got to survive, a job to do, it's every day inch by inch, little compromises, little ways of telling yourself this is how you should lead your life and suddenly then these things can happen. I mean, I could make a judgment myself privately, this is a terrible, evil, horrific man. But the job was to portray the man, the human being. There’s a sort of banality, that everydayness, that I think was important. And it was in the screenplay. In fact, one of the first scenes with Oskar Schindler, with Liam Neeson, was a scene where I'm saying, 'You don't understand how hard it is, I have to order so many-so many meters of barbed wire and so many fencing posts and I have to get so many people from A to B.' And, you know, he's sort of letting off steam about the difficulties of the job."

Fiennes put on 28 pounds to play the role. He watched historic newsreels and talked to Holocaust survivors who knew Göth. In portraying him, Fiennes said, "I got close to his pain. Inside him is a fractured, miserable human being. I feel split about him, sorry for him. He's like some dirty, battered doll I was given and that I came to feel peculiarly attached to."

Spielberg on Fiennes' audition: "I saw sexual evil. It is all about subtlety: there were moments of kindness that would move across his eyes and then instantly run cold."

When survivor Mila Pfefferberg was introduced to Fiennes on the set, she began shaking uncontrollably, as he reminded her too much of the real Göth...


Thursday, May 28, 2026

THE BANNING OF THE OUTLAW

In 1941, while filming "The Outlaw," Howard Hughes felt that the camera did not do justice to Jane Russell's bust. He employed his engineering skills to design a new cantilevered underwire bra to emphasize her figure. Hughes added curved structural steel rods that were sewn into the brassiere under each breast cup and connected to the bra's shoulder straps. This arrangement allowed the breasts to be pulled upwards and made it possible to move the shoulder straps away from the neck. As a result, the design allowed for a larger amount of Russell's bosom to be exposed. Contrary to many media reports afterward, Russell did not wear the bra during filming; according to her 1988 autobiography, she said the bra was so uncomfortable that she secretly discarded it. She wrote that the "ridiculous" contraption hurt so much that she wore it for only a few minutes, and instead wore her own bra. To prevent Hughes from noticing, Russell padded the cups with tissue and tightened the shoulder straps before returning to the set. She later said "I never wore it in 'The Outlaw', and he never knew. He wasn’t going to take my clothes off to check if I had it on. I just told him I did." The famed bra ended up in a Hollywood museum—a false witness to the push-up myth.

Although the film was completed in February 1941, Hughes had trouble getting it approved by the Hollywood Production Code Administration due to its emphasis on and display of Russell's breasts. The Production Administration set the standards for morally acceptable content in motion pictures, and ordered cuts to the film. Hughes reluctantly removed about 40 feet, or a half-minute, of footage that prominently featured Russell's bosom. However, 20th Century Fox decided to cancel its agreement to release "The Outlaw"; as a result, Hughes stood to lose millions of dollars. Ever the resourceful businessman, he schemed to create a public outcry for his film to be banned. Hughes had all his managers call ministers, women's clubs and housewives, informing them about the 'lewd picture' Hughes was about to release. 

The public responded by protesting and trying to have the film banned, which generated the publicity Hughes needed to establish a demand for the film and get it released. The resulting controversy created enough interest to get "The Outlaw" into theaters for just one week in 1943, and then it was pulled due to violations of the Production Code. The film was released widely on April 23, 1946 when RKO Radio Pictures premiered the film in San Francisco, where the theater owner was arrested for showing a film "offensive to decency." The MPAA maintained that Hughes switched prints and did not show the version that was approved. Hughes resigned from the MPAA and filed a $1,000,000 lawsuit demanding triple damages. He lost the suit and all the appeals. Despite the legal battles and many bans, United Artists continued to roadshow the film in 1946 and 1947 and it set records almost everywhere it was shown. Originally banned in New York, it was finally shown on September 11, 1947 when the ban was lifted...



Sunday, May 24, 2026

GARRETT MORRIS: THE EARLY YEARS

The first seasons of Saturday Night Live feature big names we all remember. Bill Murray, John Belushi, Dan Aykroyd, Gilda Radner, Chevy Chase (OK, we remember Chevy but we don’t have to like him). Most of them went on to movie stardom, celebrity rehab, or both. But there’s one name we hear about much less: Garrett Morris.

Which is strange. Garrett Morris was the first Black performer on Saturday Night Live, paving the way for Black actors in televised sketch comedy. Without Garrett Morris, is there an Eddie Murphy? How about Tracy Morgan or Kenan Thompson? Morris laid the groundwork for Key & Peele and the ladies on A Black Lady Sketch Show.
 
One would think he would be a greater presence in the pantheon of beloved SNL performers. One would think we’d celebrate him every Black History Month. Or that he would constantly be welcomed back to the SNL stage alongside all the other legendary living alums of this show. But he is often forgotten or sidelined.
 
The sad truth? Garrett Morris’s time on the historic comedy show isn’t remembered as a precious moment in comedic history. Rather, it is a bitter time capsule filled with disrespect, heavy drug use, and racism.
 
There was a lot of turmoil for Morris to get onto that Studio 8H stage in the first place.
He came to the show a trained theater actor, not an improv Second City guy like Belushi or Aykroyd. While he did have an improvisational background, it looked a lot different than his castmates’ experiences in Chicago and Toronto.
 
“I learned improv with Imamu Amiri Baraka, not at Second City. And the workshops were more about talking about problems in the ghetto — the aim wasn’t necessarily comedy,” Morris confessed to Maya Rudolph in the Hollywood Reporter. “So, when John Belushi and Gilda Radner got into Saturday Night Live, they had a comedy range from one to a hundred. My range was from “Hate Whitey” to “Kill Whitey.”

Though he was light on improv training, Morris arrived at SNL with some serious chops in his toolbelt. Morris began his journey in show business as a playwright; in fact, he exclusively thought of himself as one. “Mind you, I had two plays that had been produced in New York City,” Morris remembers. “In fact, New York commissioned a play from your boy, okay, and then I wrote another play, which was produced in New York and in L.A.”
 
With his theater work proving successful, it was a leap of faith for Morris to even take the TV job. But despite his reservations, he entered the Saturday Night Live fray as a writer. That position seems like a natural fit given his background but trying to transition from plays to sketch proved to be a challenge for Morris. “I’m a playwright, so I was having trouble getting my stuff down to a minute or a minute and a half, to fit into some sketch.”

 
In addition to the writing challenges, Morris was met with America’s pastime: racism. “I was a little disappointed in Michael O’Donoghue,” Morris remembers. “Because he was associated with National Lampoon, I made some progressive assumptions I shouldn’t have made. He was a racist motherfucker. I suggested I could play in this skit, a doctor. He had the nerve to tell me, ‘Garrett, people would be thrown by a Black doctor.’ … So once or twice, he and I did some stuff together, but I always knew what he really was.”

Being the only Black person in the room is never easy. Often, the solo Black person in question will think the racist comment or moment was in their head, or even that they made it up. Fortunately for Morris (or unfortunately, depending on how you see it), he knew his perception of racist behavior wasn’t simply one man’s opinion. Other cast members noticed what was going on.
 
“Garrett was treated horribly, horribly— by the writers, by some of the performers, and Lorne,” notes OG cast member Jane Curtin. “They just dismissed him... I found it amazing that he let it go on for as long as it did, but it took its toll, it clearly took its toll on Garrett.”
 
So the problem wasn’t just making the transition from theater to TV. It was personal. Morris was not liked by his fellow writers. His sketches were not getting put on the air, not being taken seriously, and even worse, they were stolen.
 
“The first three months or so, a guy there stole an idea and then added a little something to it, and he didn’t even give me credit for co-writing,” Morris remembers about one particularly egregious example of joke theft. “This guy stole from me and then told Lorne I couldn’t write.”

There was a silent coup underway, led by white writers, to oust Garrett Morris from the writer’s room. What was head honcho Lorne Michaels’ response? Put Garrett Morris in the cast! You can’t say Lorne didn’t get creative.
 
“When the challenge came to get rid of me as a writer, Lorne let me audition for the Not Ready for Prime Time Players,” Morris remembers. “He did not fire me. And to this day, I am thankful for that.”



Wednesday, May 20, 2026

HISTORY OF A SONG: LET'S DO IT

Songwriter Cole Porter has recorded many controversial songs in his long career, but the lyrics to "Let's Do It" are probably his most controversial. The first of Porter's "list songs", it features a string of suggestive and droll comparisons and examples, preposterous pairings and double entendres, dropping famous names and events, drawing from highbrow and popular culture. Porter was a strong admirer of the Savoy operas of Gilbert and Sullivan, many of whose stage works featured similar comic list songs.

The first refrain covers human ethnic groups, the second refrain birds, the third refrain marine life, the fourth refrain insects and centipedes, and the fifth refrain non-human mammals.

With "Let's do 'it'" a euphemism for sexual intercourse in English, author Sheldon Patinkin wrote that it was "the first hit song to proclaim openly that sex is fun."  The author of Staging Desire: Queer Readings of American Theater History drew a line from Porter's use of barely veiled double entendres such as "Moths in your rugs do it, What's the use of moth-balls?" to his "pleasure" in barely masking his homosexuality from the public.

The song has regularly lent itself over the years to the addition of contemporary or topical stanzas. For example, in 1955 the lines "Even Liberace, we assume, does it," "Ernest Hemingway could just do it" and many more were added by Noël Coward in his Las Vegas cabaret performance of the song, in which he replaced most of Porter's lyrics with his own.

In Porter's publication from 1928, the opening lines for the chorus carried three derogatory racial references: Chinks, Japs, and Laps.


The original was:

Chinks do it, Japs do it,
up in Lapland little Laps do it...

The original line can be heard in several early recordings of the song, such as a recording made by the Dorsey Brothers & their Orchestra (featuring a vocal by a young Bing Crosby), Rudy Vallée, Paul Whiteman And His Orchestra, all in 1928, and a version of the song by the singer and well-known Broadway star Mary Martin (with Ray Sinatra's orchestra), recorded in 1944. Another example is Billie Holiday, in 1941.  Peggy Lee with the Benny Goodman orchestra recorded a version in 1941 with these lyrics.

CBS came up with less offensive lyrics, which NBC adopted, and changed the opening to the refrain: "Birds do it, bees do it, even educated fleas do it." when they recognized that the line was offensive...



Monday, May 18, 2026

RECENTLY VIEWED: MARTIN SHORT - LIFE IS SHORT

I am a sucker for a good documentary, especially on my favorite stars. I just finished watching Martin Short: Life Is Short, and it is one of the better documentaries I have seen. This is actually my third one of the year. I also watched the Chevy Chase documentary as well as the John Candy one. After I saw the Chevy Chase one, I disliked him more. After I saw the John Candy one, I felt sad for him. However, after seeing the Martin Short documentary, I surprisingly felt good even though Short has been through his share of tragedy.

Martin Short is a comedy legend to multiple generations.In the 1980s, he created one brilliant character after another with SCTV and Saturday Night Live — from the hyperactive Wheel of Fortune superfan Ed Grimley to the hyper-defensive lawyer Nathan Thurm.Then in the 2000s, he gave the world the clueless film buff Jiminy Glick — and most recently, podcasting sleuth Oliver Putnam on Only Murders in the Building.

In February, after the documentary was finished, his daughter, Katherine, took her own life at the age of 42.Short told Morning Edition host A Martínez, "The reality is that my daughter had a severe disease: mental illness. Like cancer, some diseases are terminal. And hers was terminal."

Short says the documentary's director, Lawrence Kasdan, suggested postponing the film's release.

"My instinct was the opposite," Short said. "Because it's about love, loss and survival… I think we proceed. We must figure a way to survive through grief without denying it or without in any way undermining its importance."


The documentary reveals just how often Short has had to endure the deaths of family members. Between the ages of 12 and 20, he lost his father, mother and brother. Then in 2010, his wife, Nancy Dolman, succumbed to ovarian cancer. Their blissful relationship is a highlight of the film, as told through Short's own home videos.

"When I first saw a rough cut of this documentary," Short remembered, "I said to Larry Kasdan, 'I didn't know you were in love with Nancy!' Because it is a love letter to her."

If you didn't like Martin Short - watch the documentary still because you will like him more after. The home movies were touching, and it showed the absolute love Martin and Nancy had for each other as well as the amount of love everyone has in the business for Martin Short. This documentary has done something none of the others have, it has made me cry. The documentary feels short (no pun intended), because it is so interesting! 

MY RATING : 10 OUT OF 10



Wednesday, May 13, 2026

HOLLYWOOD URBAN LEGEND: JUDY HOLLIDAY

URBAN LEGEND: Was actress Judy Holliday, who sometimes played dumb blondes on the screen really a genius?

ANSWER: YES!


A New York girl, born and raised, Judith Tuvim was the only child of parents Abe Tuvimand Helen. In school, she excelled in academics, winning several awards for her skills as a writer. While in her early teens, she developed what would become a life-long love for theater. In 1938, she made her professional debut as part of a nightclub act called "The Revuers". Her partners in the act included aspiring playwrights Betty Comden and Adolph Green. "The Revuers" had a loyal following and even their own weekly radio show on NBC. In 1944, The Revuers broke up after a failed attempt to break into films. Judith adopted the stage name of "Judy Holliday" as part of a "makeover" process that was orchestrated by 20th Century Fox.


Despite her image as a "dumb blonde", Judy Holliday had an IQ of 172. She often said that it took a lot of smarts to convince people that her characters were stupid. "You have to be smart to play a dumb blonde over and over and keep the audience's attention without extraordinary physical equipment."



Sunday, May 10, 2026

A MOMENT WITH ED O'NEIL

Ed O’Neill, remembered as Al Bundy from Married with Children, never wanted to return to sitcoms. By 2008 he was semiretired, enjoying life in Hawaii, and pursuing occasional dramatic roles. When asked to meet Modern Family creators Christopher Lloyd and Steven Levitan, he resisted, declaring he was done with sitcoms. Even after agreeing, he warned them: “I did eleven years on Married with Children, and that’s enough.” His aversion came from disliking live-audience formats, which he felt ruined timing. The creators pitched their idea differently—two cameras, shot like a movie—and eventually convinced him to read the script. He was struck by its quality: “Oh shit, this is good.”

But O’Neill wasn’t the obvious choice. Craig T. Nelson was initially favored, chosen after a literal coin toss. Nelson, however, demanded star money, and his reputation for being difficult, coupled with a controversial remark, soured the network. In contrast, everyone described O’Neill as humble and easy to work with. Willing to take less money, he embodied the grounded patriarch Jay Pritchett. The role reinvented his career, balancing humor with gravitas. For O’Neill, Modern Family was more than a hit: it validated his craft and gave him a second iconic character...



Friday, May 8, 2026

GUEST REVIEW: HIGH SOCIETY

The late movie reviewer Bruce Krogan is back to our blog pages to review the nearly perfect musical High Society - which turns 70 years old this year...

MGM was pretty lucky to secure the talents of Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Grace Kelly, Celeste Holm, and Louis Armstrong to get involved in this great musical adaption of The Philadelphia Story.

Cole Porter contributed a great original score for this film with songs very specifically written to suit the talents of High Society's players. I do wish Celeste Holm had been given more to do than just the duet with Frank Sinatra, Who Wants To Be a Millionaire. On Broadway Celeste Holm was a musical star with Oklahoma and Bloomer Girl to her credit, but MGM didn't want to recognize that.

For this film, the story is reset from Philadelphia to Newport, Rhode Island to bring in the famous Jazz Festival. Philip Barry's social commentary is toned down and a very partisan Greek Chorus is added in the person of Mr. Louis "Satchmo" Armstrong. Satchmo tells you right up front who he's pulling for to win Grace Kelly and he helps musically along the way.

Satch and Bing have that classic Now You Has Jazz duet, so successful was it that they did an album together a few years later. Bing Crosby during his life was crazy about jazz musicians and there was no one he liked better than Louis Armstrong. No one on the planet could resist that man's joy for living.


Grace Kelly got a chance to bat 1000 in the recording industry. She was no singer as she would have freely admitted, but Cole Porter wrote True Love specifically to accommodate her limited range and when she does the last two bars of True Love with Der Bingle she got a million selling record for her one and only platter. As for Bing he got his 20th Gold record and the only one not with Decca records.

True Love was nominated for Best Song at the Oscars but lost to Doris Day's Que Sera Sera which boomed all over the charts in 1956. It was sadly Cole Porter's last opportunity to win an Oscar for one of his movie songs.

Frank Sinatra got a couple of good ballads in You're Sensational and Mind If I Make Love to You, but what he's best remembered for is that classic Well Did You Evah duet with Bing. Today's fans can't possibly appreciate the screen meeting of the two best and best known singers for the previous generations. A musical summit conference.

High Society's tone is a lot lighter than the Philadelphia Story. The cast in terms of acting ability are not in the same league as Grant, Stewart, Hepburn, and Hussey. But folks it is a musical. I doubt those stars could have carried off the Cole Porter score.

You can't miss with a cast like this, in either film for that matter...

BRUCE's RATING: 10 out of 10
MY RATING: 10 OUT OF 10



Tuesday, May 5, 2026

THE QUIET LOVE STORY OF MAXENE ANDREWS & LYNDA WELLS

This past weekend, Hollywood manager and model Lynda Wells passed away at the age of 84 after a vallant battle witth cancer. She was the manager and companion of Maxene Andrews as well. For much of her life, Maxene Andrews lived in harmony—literally and figuratively—with the world watching. As the soprano voice of the Andrews Sisters, she helped define the sound of America during World War II, her voice ringing out from radios, USO stages, and movie screens as a symbol of patriotism and optimism. Yet behind the carefully maintained public image of smiling glamour and perfect harmony existed a private life shaped by restraint, secrecy, and ultimately, devotion. At the center of that life was Lynda Wells.

When Maxene met Lynda Wells in the early 1970s, she was in her mid‑50s and already a legend. The Andrews Sisters’ heyday had long passed, and Maxene’s relationship with her surviving sister, Patty, had deteriorated into estrangement. It was a period of personal recalibration following decades of fame and pressure, and it was during this quieter chapter that she and Wells connected. Various accounts describe Wells first as Maxene’s manager, but describing her role that way alone misses the depth of their bond. Wells soon became Maxene’s most constant companion, her advocate, and eventually her family in every way that mattered, even if the law did not yet recognize it. 

Their partnership unfolded in an era when same‑sex relationships, especially among public figures tied to patriotic imagery, were not merely frowned upon but could have destroyed careers and legacies. Maxene had already experienced how carefully image had to be managed. Earlier in her life, she had married music publisher Lou Levy, a union that ended in separation in 1949, and while she later entered relationships with women, these remained deeply private. With Wells, however, something shifted. Friends and later historians have noted that this was not a fleeting romance but a lasting, stabilizing relationship that endured for more than two decades, until Maxene’s death in 1995. 


What makes their love story particularly poignant is the way it was lived: plainly, quietly, and without bitterness toward a world that gave them no vocabulary for legitimacy. Wells traveled with Maxene, managed her later career, and cared for her in health and illness. They made a home together, not as a rebellion but as a natural extension of companionship. In later interviews, Wells emphasized that Maxene did not frame her life through labels or activism; singing remained her great love, and Wells was the person who made life around that love possible.

Because same‑sex marriage was not an option, Maxene and Wells took a step that may seem unusual today but was a known legal strategy among queer couples in the twentieth century: Maxene legally adopted Wells as her daughter. This act was not about redefining their personal relationship but about ensuring basic protections—hospital access, inheritance rights, and recognition as family—at a time when the law offered no other path. Historians have since documented this practice as a quiet form of resistance and survival rather than secrecy for its own sake. 

Their bond remained largely invisible to the public during Maxene’s lifetime, but it was undeniable to those who knew her. When Maxene died of a heart attack on October 21, 1995, she was vacationing on Cape Cod with Lynda Wells at her side. Wells was there not as a footnote, not as an assistant, but as the person who had shared Maxene’s private world for over twenty years. In death, as in life, their connection was quietly acknowledged, even if never publicly celebrated in the way it might be today. 

In recent years, as scholars, journalists, and filmmakers have revisited the lives of historical figures with fuller honesty, the love story of Maxene Andrews and Lynda Wells has begun to emerge from the margins. Projects like An All American Affair: The True Story of Maxene Andrews aim to tell that fuller story—not to diminish Maxene’s legacy, but to deepen it by acknowledging the reality of the woman behind the voice. 

Their story is not one of scandal or tragedy. It is a story of endurance, of choosing companionship in a world that demanded silence, and of finding love not in defiance of identity but in its quiet acceptance. Maxene Andrews spent her life singing in perfect harmony with others. With Lynda Wells, she finally found a harmony that required no performance at all...




Monday, May 4, 2026

RECENTLY VIEWED: THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA 2

My daughter wanted to see The Devil Wears Prada 2, and I said to myself - "oh no not another sequel". I was pleasantly surprised. I liked that the movie touched on what is happening to journalism in 2026 with everything going digital and AI. A sequel to the 2006 film The Devil Wears Prada, it sees Meryl Streep, Anne Hathaway, Emily Blunt, and Stanley Tucci reprising their roles, with Justin Theroux, Lucy Liu, and Kenneth Branagh joining as new additions.

Despite the success of The Devil Wears Prada, starring cast members Streep and Hathaway were initially hesitant on the prospects of a sequel. Development on the film began in July 2024, with all four leading actors – Streep, Hathaway, Blunt, and Tucci – signing on to reprise their roles, and Frankel and McKenna returning to direct and write, respectively. Additional castings for new characters were revealed between then and November 2025. Principal photography took place from June to October 2025 in Manhattan and Milan, with additional filming in Newark, New Jersey.

The cast was stunning and perfect, and Meryl Streep is perfect in evey film she is in. For me though, the standout was Stanley Tucci. I think he stole the movie in this film, and was great without trying. A nice added face to the movie was BJ Novak, from The Office fame, in a nice supporting role. 


As of May 3, 2026, The Devil Wears Prada 2 has grossed $77 million in the United States and Canada, and $157 million in other territories, for a worldwide total of $234 million. In the United States and Canada, The Devil Wears Prada 2 is projected to gross $75–80 million from 4,150 theaters, with some estimates going as high as $100 million. The film made $10 million in Thursday previews. Internationally, the film is projected to debut to around $100 million from 35 countries. It made $40.5 million on its first day of release.

Like I said, I thought the movie does a great job showing how the characters from 2006 are now dealing with the reality of 2026. It is a different world now, and the magazine business has definitely changed. There were some really good laughs, even though the tempo at certain parts of the movie seemed slow. The movie was darker, which actaully made it better. For a sequel, this film can stand on its own, and there is never a dull moment with Streep, Anne Hathaway, and Emily Blunt on the screen...

MY RATING: 8 out of 10