Jane Fonda is magnetically terrific in the 1969 They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?, losing herself in the role of Gloria, a bitter would-be actress.  She and the other characters are desperate, first of all, to survive during the Great Depression and, second, to have their dreams come true.  Because they must acquire money, they participate in a grueling dance marathon, but in addition they want natural relief through love and intimacy, even loveless sex.  Monstrously cynical, Gloria is also a “loser” who wants to die; and, really, we pity and even respect her when she does die.

Sydney Pollack‘s film, based on a novel by Horace McCoy, is bleak.  And it’s more honest than most movies today (e.g., it doesn’t see its female protagonist as more virtuous than any man you could ever meet).  Granted, the last few minutes of the film are rather flimsy, flowing less than smoothly from the previous material; but we can be very grateful for the set design, costumes, and general ambitiousness.  Pollack, indeed, tried to make a work of art.

Written by JP Miller, Days of Wine and Roses (1958) was a Playhouse 90 TV movie before it was remade as a theatrical film.  Though technically crude, it is a memorably strong drama about the ruination of sought-after social mobility—and of people’s lives—by alcoholism.  Joe and Kirsten are the broken hard drinkers.  Without getting drunk, Kirsten can only see the world as a “dirty” place, and is the more vulnerable and myopic of the two.

JP Miller (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The picture was well directed by John Frankenheimer.  Cliff Robertson is a natural for the part of Joe.  His acting is nigh effortless, whereas with Piper Laurie (Kirsten) we do see the effort.  Laurie is inconsistently convincing, but—interestingly—she does manage to be deep.  A psyche is there. . .

I’m glad I finally saw Days (on DVD) after all these years, and, yep, I’m sticking with the original.

Well, I think Gyorgy Ligeti’s Atmospheres is very accessible, despite its lack of melody and, according to Ligeti, “dense canonic structure.”  A short piece, it is frighteningly stratospheric before deliquescing.

Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G is snappy and limpid in its first movement and  incalculably beautiful in its second.  Its third is pleasantly bouncy.  A masterpiece.  Even greater is Bartok’s Music for Strings, Percussion and Celesta, evoking the terrors of the twentieth century.  It is somber, eerie and adventurous.

Also, it never gets sentimental, and neither does the String Quartet No. 1 (“The Kreutzer Sonata”) of Leos Janacek, an opus as controlled as it is capricious.  It’s dark too, though not as dark as Symphony No. 2 by Arvo Part. Menace is everywhere in this not-great but good modern composition, and so is a lovely conclusive quote from Tchaikovsky.

To be continued

U.S. astronauts reach the moon, in the 1950 Destination Moon, only because they choose to defy the government, which has ordered them to stay on the earth.  The public fears radioactivity after liftoff, but the determined astronauts slip away and take their historic flight regardless.  After they land on the moon, they are distressed to discover that getting home just might be a nonstarter.

Adapting one of his novels, Robert Heinlein co-wrote the movie’s script, so the frequently spot-on technical information is no surprise.  And for 1950 the sets are admirable, even though the outside rescue of an astronaut adrift is hopelessly stagy (and with plenty of silliness).  To be honest, DM is marred by much, but it is Hollywood earnestness at its most entertaining.  Too, I found it nigh spellbinding, and not only in the outer space scenes.  Watching it, I got a hankering to read Heinlein’s Have Space Suit, Will Travel, which will at least spare me, as this movie does not, the presence of Woody Woodpecker.

Directed by Irving Pichel.

U.S. astronauts reach the moon, in the 1950 Destination Moon, only because they choose to defy the government, which has ordered them to stay on the earth.  The public fears radioactivity after liftoff, but the determined astronauts slip away and take their historic flight regardless.  After they land on the moon, they are distressed to discover that getting home just might be a nonstarter.

Adapting one of his novels, Robert Heinlein co-wrote the movie’s script, so the frequently spot-on technical information is no surprise.  And for 1950 the sets are admirable, even though the outside rescue of an astronaut adrift is hopelessly stagy (and with plenty of silliness).  To be honest, DM is marred by much, but it is Hollywood earnestness at its most entertaining.  Too, I found it nigh spellbinding, and not only in the outer space scenes.  Watching it, I got a hankering to read Heinlein’s Have Space Suit, Will Travel, which will at least spare me, as this movie does not, the presence of Woody Woodpecker.

Directed by Irving Pichel.