Quantum Leap and Giving Thanks

I don't give a hang for Thanksgiving.  That is, the eatabigmealgettotallyfullandsleepallafternoon, Thanksgiving. Most certainly I think that it's become a holiday for anticipation of not Christmas, but that Black Friday jazz that I find not only herd mentality, but a disgusting and rather in your face way for the retailers to milk every buck out of the holiday season.  And the gullible shoppers who seem to think saving a dollar ninety-five on a Barbie Dreamhouse is going to get them into Heaven.
No.  It will not.
What Thanksgiving should be about is simple. Giving Thanks.  I am thankful for my best friend Beth, my family, who are quite far away, and my cats, Chaney, Olivia, and most of all, Archer.  Oh he is so darned cute.  And no, I will not put up some barfy video of how adorable he was as a baby....
Well, maybe I will....

Now wasn't that delightful?  And I couldn't find the baby vid so I have this one which was about 2 months ago.
As most know, I've been in love with a tv show and an actor on that show for nigh on twenty years.  Quantum Leap had a terrific Thanksgiving episode, "Leap Home".  Sam, who is alone, travelling in time, leaps back to his childhood home in 1969.  The guy jumped in his own time machine to prove it worked and ended up exiled in his own lifetime for pretty much the rest of the series.  There are many things that put this show above all others but the one I must point out the most is, here is Sam Beckett, the ultimate man without a country.  There is no comfort in being alone in time, setting right what something or someone made wrong. And the holidays seem pretty important to him, as this episode illustrates.  There are several things he can set right--save his brother's life by keeping him from leaving for Vietnam, saving his fathers life by changing his unhealthy lifestyle, and keeping his little sister from marrying Chuck, an abusive drunk.  Does he succeed in doing these things?  Yes and no, that remains to be seen.  It is a story about being with a family for Thanksgiving and being grateful, in the long run, for having this second chance to be with them.  In the end, as his friend Al says how he would like to have another moment with his father and sister and Sam should be grateful that whoever is leaping him around is giving him the great gift of being with them again.

 If I get a little miserable missing my Mom or my Dad I think about how lucky I am that I live in a warm apartment, three cats and a best friend who is constantly reminding me how much she loves me, and plenty of food and a JOB.  I belong to a church that I love.
And, as Beth (my best friend) pointed out today and over and over again, if it wasn't for Sam and Al we might never have been friends.

Now I will go back to blogging about my actors and things--but be happy with what you have--Happy Thanksgiving!

Why We Should Care About Wally Reid....

He outlived a tornado that hit St. Louis in 1896.   He was a writer, a skilled director, and subtle actor.  I've seen very little of his work.  And it's sad.  He has this wonderful face, deep set eyes, a light smile.  He sort of glows from photographs taken of him.

Why am I so crazy about dead actors?  Is there something wrong with me?  Wally, in particular, shines and seems so alive.  He had a pretty modern way of acting, he was natural and had a really wonderful glow from within that comes with confidence, and a family brought him up to be proud of himself and his achievements. He had a strong marriage and a young family.  
I'm not a biographer, I just know a little about him. A lot of his pictures go VERY FAST-about cars and speed.  He was athletic and handsome.   I know he was in a picture with Gloria Swanson, "The Affairs of Anatol"--

You can see in this photo something is wrong with Wally.  He was only thirty when he died.  He did a movie called "The Valley of the Giants".  There was a train accident and he had a head injury. Instead of making sure he was taken and given the best medical care, he was stitched up, and, in time, given morphine so he could finish the film.  He finished it and the addiction which led to alcohol and other drugs, finished Wally.  (Wow!  I just had a Kenneth Anger moment...and if you don't get that reference, I sentence you to a week of staring at Hollywood Babylon.  That's punishment for anyone!)  When he was hospitalized for his addiction it was too late.   I'm sure what I'm proudest of is that he did die clean.  He refused the morphine that they would use to 'wean' him off the stuff.  He was clean, he was gonna stay clean.  And he died.

This was taken just before he had his last illness.  Why am I focusing on his death and not his film career?  Well, I'm feeling pretty blue, and had this book about Wally I read from time to time.  Maybe he was nudging me to say a few words about him, to let people know he existed and was a good person.  You see from the smile in the photo above he loved his family.  The drugs in the silent days were nefarious ... they were a stronger cut.  Mabel Normand dealt with it, Lottie and Jack Pickford.  A little went a long way and they were not expensive.  Some were even sold over the counter.   I doubt that Paramount purposely addicted Wally to the morphine.  He was their moneymaker and by golly, he had to finish that film so he could do the next, and the next.  No one learned a lesson from it except to work harder to cover up things neatly if there is an issue with drugs and a celebrity.
Dorothy, Wally's wife, made a movie about drugs, "Human Wreckage".  Like ninety percent of silent film, it is lost to the ravages of Nitrate Doesn't Wait.  Rotted and gone and probably not remembered much except that it graphically showed addiction at it's lowest.  In my heart Wally still glows very nicely, thank you.

He died about ninety years ago.  If he stepped onto a screen now he would still be stunning.  We should care about Wally Reid because he was the first actor who was brave enough to want his addiction publicized.   Because his death was a true tragedy in a time of innocence.  We like to think the silent era was this sparkling time of dancing and parties and larger than life personalities but it had it's dark side, too.  How Wally tried to beat that darkness is a story one should try to read.  E.J. Fleming wrote a terrific book about Wally and his life.  If you even think of reading this or that book or even glancing around the net for a few things of his, you have given Wally the one thing he should have--a lingering affection for a sweet, long-lost boy.

Love, Life, and Laughter

Dear Doug Fairbanks,

You wrote a book once telling all your secrets of life, to be happy, to love your friends, to keep your life clean and whole and all will be well.  Isn't that so?  Do you know I've been a fan of yours long before I had seen one of your movies?  You have this glow about you, strength, confidence,  Sure could use some confidence.  

When fall comes I think of you often.  The trees are ablaze with color, brilliant blue sky.  This really, really fresh air that you want to be a part of.  They say you made people feel that way when you entered a room and when you left all the glow went with you.  To be that supremely happy and giving must be a joy to you in Heaven now.  Maybe God has you greet the film fans when they come up so they don't worry so much about what they left.  What a wonderful ambassador you would have made.  

Douglas, did you have any idea that people would think of you after you died?  Certainly, your friends would.  

Your dearest friend was Charlie.  You two were great buddies, shared secrets and business.  You, with Mary Pickford, DW Griffith, and others formed the United Artists, which is the very first company for the actor, by the actor.  There was a lot more there than a quick grin and a witty quip.  You were clever, and protective and all the things they write about you.  

Well, I love you, Doug.  To see you fling yourself across a screen makes my heart soar.  Watch this--feel your heart soar!

I suppose I should have picked this one, but "A Modern Musketeer" is my favorite of your earlier pictures.  It shows the kind of man a girl would like, clean, full of joy of life, confidence, and a dreamer.  You'd exhaust a lesser man and did many times.  Oh we have all these so-called 'stars' now, none of which I'll mention, but none with your verve, your sparkle.   Or your good looks.  My goodness, if you suggested some of the tumbles you took (the ones your stunt man didn't do!) they'd scream for their union!  

I sure hope you don't mind me visiting you where you rest in Hollywood.  It's quiet there, and very pretty.  Just over the wall the Paramount studio still thrives, buzzing with activity and the energy that you so thrived on!  I love you very much, Douglas.  I love the thought of you, a man so full of movement and life.  You may have been the greatest egotist but who cares?  What I wouldn't have given to meet you.  Your voice would ring out--yes, he did have a voice.  He had a lovely voice.

Dear Doug as as the last drop of fall wrings its way to the Earth, I think of you today.  Mary Pickford, the wife you loved, said, "He was an arrow in full flight."  Surely that is the best way to describe you.  An arrow that went through the air and met it's target every single time.

11th Hour, 11th Day

My main focus with this is silent film. I have two favorite films that are of the era, "The 4 Horseman of the Apocalypse" and "The Big Parade" which was just released on Blue Ray.
Most people remember Rudy Valentino as this greasy, pop-eyed Latin Lover with the tent and half-clad women running like hot and cold running water throughout.
The Four Horseman was his breakthrough, at the time as big as when Tom Cruise did "Top Gun".  (Although I find Tom Cruise as utterly interesting as an unsalted soda cracker.)  He dazzles in this film, he dances the tango, he is stunning and so young.  It's brilliant and sparkling even ninety some years later.  He is a dream and so talented. He runs the gamut of young, spoiled boy, to this hardened soldier who is beaten and raw, part of the destruction of World War One, part of the soil of some dampened French field.

How could I resist?  There is so much intensity in this moment of time, it's damned hot, if you want my true opinion.  To dance with Valentino.  Yes, I dream of dancing with him.  He was so filled with emotion.  It wasn't just because he was Italian; his dark eyes, like oiled glass, the thin line of his lips and when he smiled, oh to hell with cliches.  The angels sang.  
Some may think how could I, born 44 years after his death, love him so much?  My first glimpse of him was a very fuzzy film seen on a black and white tv when I was about ten and wide open to any and all silent film.  It was Son of the Sheik and played at the wrong speed but something about this wore me down an drew me in as few things have.  It was his last film.  He ages from late twenties to his own father and it was made to help with his finances.  In reality, Rudy hated the shiek character but he needed him, too.  His last and greatest love had left him, he had a new home to pay for, debt high over his head.  The movie was a smash hit but probably not for the reasons it was made-
you see, Rudy died just after it's release.  He was only 31 years old.  And in the words of the great Kevin Brownlow, he was immortal.
Back to the war...yes, Julio was dragged out and amazing and it showed the terrible hell that WW1 was for any man or woman that fought it.

This is not the image we are the most familiar with -- he is tired and worn,  the character is doomed to die.
As for the Big Parade and John Gilbert, I will save that for another time.
Let's reflect on rememberance this veterans day, something as old as time, the lives of all the people who went to war.

There Is A Reason I Like Laurel & Hardy

On November 4th my dad would have been 99 years old.  When I was young I lived in Northern Wisconsin, a town called Rice Lake.  We got several tv stations there--back in the day when four channels and once in a while one from Duluth was a big deal.  No cable.  We got 'CCO, KSTP, WEAU (from Eau Claire) and WTCN --from The Cities.  (Minneapolis/St Paul)  Every Sunday morning at ten a.m sharp we got Laurel and Hardy and if there was one thing I never missed was that single hour or two where me and my dad had something in common.  

At first I really was fascinated about how old the 'shows' were.  "Below Zero" was a particular favorite and still is.  It's a very dark comedy short, not quite as laughable as everything else.  Two fellas, out of work, homeless, standing on a snowy street corner in the depth of winter singing, "In the Good Old Summertime".  Stan had a wheezy concertina and Ollie had this incredible voice.  It was sweet and lovely, like the song.  I grew to love him very much.  My father, when he sang, sounded like Oliver.  And he would laugh with me at every gag, at every single silly moment.  

Is there anything better than sharing Laurel and Hardy with someone for the first time?  Two gentle men, who really loved each other.  It's there on the film.  It's true. And maybe that's why it's funny in a clean, fresh way.  Because there are no untruths between these men.  Maybe Ollie did want to go play golf all the time and Stan was the true brains of the duo, but I don't buy that.  Two hearts together, as they were, brought together as if they were born at the same moment and destined to bring joy to the world with the simple purity of two as one.

This is the last photo taken of them.  They stand like troupers, smiling for the cameraman who took this film.  Here is one that is silly.  

They have been a part of my life since I was about seven years old. Dad had a friend named Henry.  They used to do pretty much everything together and when he died I don't think Dad ever recovered from that blow.  They were a terrific team Dad and Henry.  Like Laurel and Hardy, they had a friendship that was true, and one was balanced by the other.  Maybe Dad did see him and Henry in "the boys".  I like to think he did. 

Take a moment and watch "Perfect Day".  After a bad day I like to watch this short and laugh.  Such a silly family, so many laughs.  I kind of miss laughing with Dad.