Classic Films

A Matter of Life and Death

Following a brief hiatus over the holidays, Cinema Sips is back today with the question: what even is time? After a lackluster couple of weeks (honestly, more like fifty-two weeks) spent spinning my wheels, I’m starting to wonder if, like the main character in this week’s pick A Matter of Life and Death (Disc), I too have been visited by Conductor 71. Did the rest of the world stop in time, or did I?

If you’re shaking your head in confusion, then pause what you’re doing right now and go watch this Powell and Pressburger classic. The film features David Niven as a doomed British WWII bomber pilot who escapes a trip to the afterlife thanks to an accounting error from the great beyond and a thick English fog, plus Kim Hunter as the American radio operator who falls for him right before he bails from a burning plane without a parachute. Unfortunately, the higher ups realize their mistake and send an eighteenth century Frenchman to collect him from Earth, but Niv argues that it’s too late: he and the American girl are in love, and it’s not fair to punish her for their mistake. A trial is arranged in which he must argue the case that it’s possible for an American and an Englishman to fall in love at first sight, and while he takes a trip up the heavenly escalator to choose his defense attorney (options: Lincoln, Plato, and presumably Jesus), his mortal body is fighting a mysterious brain disorder. The film tackles a lot of big ideas, such as belief in the afterlife, immigration, xenophobia, and justice, but the biggest idea of all is that love conquers all; even death.

What makes this movie such a fantasy, even beyond its plot and themes, is the amazing Technicolor cinematography by Jack Cardiff. Switching between color for the Earthly scenes and black & white for the Other World, the result is a stunning display of visual achievement (in large thanks to the fantastic restoration efforts this film has benefited from over the years). Naturally, I took my cocktail cues from the vivid colors of Earth, as well as the frequent motif of a rose, which captures the tear of a woman terrified to lose the man she loves. While watching A Matter of Life and Death, I recommend drinking this Conductor 71 cocktail.

Conductor 71

1 1/2 oz Empress 1908 Gin

3/4 oz Cardamom Simple Syrup

3/4 oz Lemon Juice

7-8 drops Rosewater

3 oz Club Soda

Dried rose petals (garnish)

Combine gin, cardamom syrup, lemon juice, and rosewater in a shaker with ice. Shake to chill, then strain into a glass filled with fresh ice. Top with club soda, and stir gently to combine. Sprinkle dried rose petals on the top.

This film may have started as a simple request from the British government to smooth over post-war relations between America and the UK, but I don’t think anyone could have predicted how profound and enduring it would turn out to be. It leaves me feeling as though I just spent a couple glorious hours in suspended animation, and now it’s time to wake up and move forward. I can’t think of a better film to watch at the start of a new year. Cheers!

Classic Films · Dramas

The Man Who Knew Too Much

I don’t know about you, but I’m in dire need of a good Day. Doris Day, that is. When anxiety, hopelessness, rage, and disappointment threaten to overtake me, it always helps to watch a star who faced tremendous struggles onscreen and off. One who came through these battles with her grace, dignity, and empathy intact. It seems fitting then, that Doris Day’s iconic song from The Man Who Knew Too Much (Disc/Download) would feel tailored to this most uncertain of times we’re living in: “Que sera, sera; whatever will be, will be. The future’s not ours to see; que sera, sera.”

The fact that Alfred Hitchcock made a perfectly great version of The Man Who Knew Too Much in 1934, then decided to do it again in 1956 is a pretty wild concept. Nevertheless, if he had to fulfill a studio obligation for one more picture, I’m glad he decided to dust this story off because 1950s Man has a lot more heart and emotional depth. Much of that comes from Doris Day and Jimmy Stewart, who have always felt like America’s parents. If you happened to be kidnapped by terrorists, you could feel confident they would be clever and determined enough to rescue you. Doris gets a lot more material to work with than Edna Best did in the original, and it’s to her credit the stakes feel so much higher. Seeing her devolve into hysterics when she realizes her son is missing, then watching her steely resolve take over when she faces an incompetent police force is a wonderful arc. In the end, it’s Doris who saves the day, because terrorism is no match for a woman with a strong, powerful voice.

When The Man Who Knew Too Much opens, Jimmy, Doris, and their little boy are on a bus to Marrakesh. There are some great scenes filmed in a Moroccan bazaar (in fact, Doris insisted on better care for the background animals, refusing to shoot until every camel, horse, stray dog, and cat had food and water), before the plot takes them all to London. Doris and Jimmy end up throwing an impromptu party in their hotel room, and one wonders just how many gin & tonics their friends put back while waiting on these two to foil an international assassination plot and find their son. This time of year, I love the flavor of cardamom in my drinks, so I’ll be infusing some Old Tom gin with a handful of cardamom pods. Leave it to soak overnight, then strain the pods out. While watching The Man Who Knew Too Much, I recommend drinking this Ambrose Chapel Gin & Tonic.

Ambrose Chapel Gin & Tonic

2 oz Cardamom-infused Old Tom Gin

5 oz Indian tonic water

Orange wheel (dried)

Star Anise

Build drink over ice, and garnish with a dried orange wheel and star anise.

It’s ironic that Doris hated the song “Que Sera, Sera” when she first heard it, thinking it too cutesy and saccharine, because even by her own account, she lived her life by its lyrics. She didn’t know what the future held, but she never lost faith in herself. Her world wasn’t rainbows day after day, and she couldn’t have known prior to each marriage how the men in her life would let her down. But after every disappointment, betrayal, and setback, she got up, dusted herself off, and put one foot in front of the other. Her voice was her gift, and for the rest of her life, she used it to help the people and causes that mattered to her. Just as I’ll try my best to do now, one Day at a time. Cheers!

Classic Films · horror

I Walked With a Zombie

I love ghost stories with a touch of gothic romance almost as much as I love tropical cocktails, so when I discovered that Jacques Tourneur’s I Walked With a Zombie (Disc/Download) is a Caribbean-set riff on Jane Eyre, I was all in. Finally, an excuse to break out all the rums in October!

Classic horror has always been my go-to during spooky season because it’s generally more psychological horror than visual horror. Even in this film, which has the word “Zombie” in the title, it’s quickly communicated that the zombie is actually just a very sick woman who is unable to speak or communicate after battling a tropical fever. The terror comes from everything around her: the checked out husband, the fiery, drunken ex-lover, the naïve Canadian nurse, the resentful locals descended from slaves, and even a mother-in-law masquerading as a Voodoo priestess. In one poignant scene, the newly arrived nurse remarks to her cab driver with tone-deaf cheer that even though his ancestors came to the island chained to the bottom of a ship, “At least they came to a beautiful place!” His response: “If you say so, miss.” With one line, everything we assumed about these characters and this setting has been upended. We now understand who and what is evil on this island.

Looking back through my Cinema Sips archives, I’m a little surprised I haven’t featured a Zombie cocktail yet. However, the Caribbean setting of this film makes it an ideal match for the classic Tiki drink adapted from Don the Beachcomber’s original recipe. While you’re watching I Walked With a Zombie, I recommend drinking a Zombie.

Zombie

1 ½ oz Jamaican Rum

1 ½ oz Puerto Rican Rum

1 oz Overproof Rum

¼ oz Cinnamon Syrup

½ oz Grapefruit Juice

½ oz Velvet Falernum

¾ oz Lime Juice

¼ oz Grenadine

2 dashes Absinthe

1 dash Angostura Bitters

Mint Sprig

Combine all ingredients in a shaker with ice. Shake until chilled, then strain into a tiki mug or tall glass filled with fresh crushed ice. Garnish with a sprig of mint.

If you came to I Walked With a Zombie expecting rotting flesh and slow-moving corpses, you might be disappointed to find only melodrama and chiaroscuro lighting. But for those of us who understand that our world has been built on a lot of scary, unpleasant history, this is the true horror watch. Cheers!

Action/Adventure/Heist · Classic Films

The Flight of the Phoenix

Completing my month of “Desert Movies” (a theme I never imagined I’d tackle, but stumbled into and embraced): a Jimmy Stewart classic that was new to me, The Flight of the Phoenix (Disc/Download). Featuring a terrific opening credits sequence that’s equal parts cheesy and thrilling, this movie’s tone is all over the place. But like that busted old plane, it comes together in the end.

Serving as a bridge between ensemble war dramas of the 1950s and the disaster flicks of the 1970s, The Flight of the Phoenix features a seemingly incongruous cast but takes itself seriously enough that you wouldn’t put it in the same category as say, The Towering Inferno. It’s Classic Hollywood (Jimmy Stewart, Ernest Borgnine, Richard Attenborough)-meets-New Hollywood (Peter Finch, Ian Bannen, etc.). It’s a pilot from an analog era crash-landing with an engineer from the emerging digital age. Through these contradictions, the film stays interesting and engaging, even when the scenery doesn’t change a whole lot. We’re there for the acting and the script, not the desert vistas and sunburns. Admittedly, things drag a bit in the middle as the crash survivors attempt to turn the scraps of their old plane into something flyable (before dying of dehydration or getting killed by Libyans), but the exciting climax makes the wait worthwhile. That, and the terrific Connie Francis song “Senza Fine” that’s so out of place, yet incredibly welcome.

Before the plane crashes, the passengers and crew are both getting a little wild with the booze. Ouzo is the drink of choice in the main cabin, while Dickie Attenborough is imbibing something else on the flight deck. I found a great recipe for a classic cocktail that uses Old Tom gin, which very well could have been in his bottle, and my garnish is a Medjool date because that’s all the food these poor men had. Just… dates. While watching The Flight of the Phoenix, I recommend drinking a Phoenix cocktail.

Phoenix

1 1/2 oz Old Tom Gin

1/8 oz Bénédictine

2-3 dashes Orange Bitters

Orange Twist

Medjool Date

Combine gin, Bénédictine, and bitters in a shaker filled with ice. Stir to combine and chill, then strain into a Nick & Nora glass. Garnish with a twist of orange, and a skewered date.

It’s thrilling to watch Jimmy Stewart in the cockpit, given his decorated career as a military pilot during WWII. You get the sense that he truly loved filming these scenes, and he looks totally at home even when flying a scabbed together piece of fuselage. Yes, Jimmy’s a great actor, but he’s even better when the real hero inside of him shines through. Cheers!

Action/Adventure/Heist · Classic Films

King Kong

I’ve written before about my love of Kong, Godzilla, Indominus Rex, and pretty much any large prehistoric creature that roams the jungle and has a complicated relationship with humans. I’ve also written about my love of Tiki cocktails, so this week, I’m combining my two favorite things with the original 1933 King Kong (Disc/Download) and a banana-flavored tropical concoction.

For many years, my only relationship to the classic King Kong was knowing that Sandra Dee calls it a “wonderful old horror number” in A Summer Place, using it as a cover for why she has to stay out so late with her boyfriend. They have to watch it twice! Frankly, if the choice is between a double feature of Kong and Kong, or losing my virginity to Troy Donahue, I’d go with the ape every time. The movie is that good! For those familiar with the Peter Jackson 2005 remake, the original is extremely similar to that version, but isn’t bogged down by pacing problems. I’m sorry Mr. Jackson, but you don’t need three-and-a-half hours to show us how a giant ape was taken from his island and set loose in New York City. In 1933, they kept the character backstories tight, they kept the dinosaur fights to only the essentials, and they didn’t waste a lot of time once Kong hit Manhattan. Although stop motion animation is no match for our modern visual effects, it still blows my mind how ahead of its time this movie is. I feel the power of Kong’s strength, just like I feel his vulnerability, whether I can see every strand of hair on his head or not. That’s true movie magic.

One of my favorite cocktail trends of 2024 has been the resurgence of banana liqueur. I’m seeing it in so many things, from Spritzes to Old Fashioneds, making every drink it graces feel like a vacation. If you want to take a trip to Skull Island, try mixing up this Eighth Wonder of the World cocktail.

Eighth Wonder of the World

1 ½ oz Aged Gold Rum

¼ oz Kahlua Coffee Liqueur

¼ oz Banana Liqueur

½ oz Orgeat Syrup

1 ½ oz Pineapple Juice

¾ oz Lemon Juice

Dash Angostura Bitters

Pineapple garnish

Combine Rum, Kahlua, banana liqueur, orgeat, pineapple juice, lemon juice, and bitters in a shaker with ice. Shake until chilled, then strain into a glass filled with fresh crushed ice. Garnish with a pineapple wedge.

If I had to pick a favorite iteration of King Kong, it is undoubtedly this original 1933 version. Not only does it feature the sensitive beast I know and love, but there are dinosaurs, an ocean crossing, a short runtime, and a feisty Pre-Code heroine. Fay Wray isn’t your average damsel in distress; she’s a survivor. It’s no wonder beauty killed the beast. Cheers!

Classic Films

Notorious

As a rule, I hate August, but if I must suffer through it, at least I’ve got Hitchcock Week at the local revival cinema. This summer, I had the best intentions: I would skip the big movies I’ve seen a thousand times in favor of finally watching Notorious (Disc/Download), a movie I’d never seen. And then… it got hot. Very hot. So hot that leaving my house became an impossibility. I finally admitted defeat, popped in a Criterion disc, and fixed a drink. Even in a heat dome, Hitchcock Week marches on.

Starring Cary Grant as a government agent, and Ingrid Bergman as the honey trap he sets for an underground network of Nazis in South America, Notorious is a tense, sexy thriller set in Rio de Janeiro. Grant’s Agent Devlin recruits Bergman’s Alicia after her father is convicted of being a Nazi spy in Miami (Imagine! A Florida judge actually trying and sentencing a guilty man for treason! What a time to be alive!), and the two fall in love before she gets her assignment: seduce suspected Nazi Alex Sebastian (Claude Rains) to gain information about his acquaintances and plans. Devlin lets her go through with it, Alicia assumes the agent didn’t really love her after all, and she succeeds to the point of marrying Sebastian. However, Devlin is never far away, even when things become more and more dangerous for her. No spoilers, but a scene involving a wine cellar had me clutching my glass so hard I feared it would break.

Speaking of alcohol, there is a lot of it in this movie. You could certainly pop several bottles of champagne (be careful not to run out!), but I prefer to try a Brazilian classic. While watching Notorious, I recommend drinking a Rabo-de-Galo.

Rabo-de-Galo

1 ½ oz Cachaça

¾ oz Cynar

¾ oz Red Vermouth

Dash of grapefruit bitters

Orange twist (garnish)

Combine Cachaça, Cynar, Vermouth, and bitters in a shaker with ice. Stir to combine, then strain into a glass filled with large ice cubes. Garnish with a twist of orange.

Someday, I still hope to see Notorious on the big screen, preferably when it’s not over a hundred degrees and I don’t have a long walk over scorching sidewalks to the cinema. Watching at home with a cocktail is still fun, but be sure to put away all your devices and pay attention: you won’t want to miss a single look between these two glamorous spies. Cheers!

Classic Films · Uncategorized

Mandalay

My recent discovery of the classic Pegu Club on a Mississippi library lounge menu brought me to this week’s film Mandalay, a stylish Pre-Code gem starring Kay Francis and directed by Michael Curtiz. Lucky for us, we don’t have to travel far to go on a cinematic journey with cocktails.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Pre-Code movies are the best. Mandalay exemplifies all the hallmarks of what I love most about these movies through Francis’s character Tanya. Left penniless by her deadbeat boyfriend at a brothel in Rangoon, Tanya is forced to work as a “hostess” to all sorts of nefarious characters. Eventually, she draws the attention of the local police, who politely suggest she board the next boat out of town and not come back. Her destination: the cool, green hills of Mandalay. But before she can get there, she meets and falls for an alcoholic doctor on the ship, who is on his own journey to a fever-ridden area just beyond the city. Unfortunately, Tanya’s ex is also on the ship, and she’s forced to do some less-than-legal things to extract herself from his web.

Circling back to the Pegu Club cocktail, this was the signature drink served at the Pegu Club in Rangoon to British officers and businessmen. I can absolutely imagine it being served at the gentleman’s club in this movie, and “Spot White” probably would have enjoyed a few in between clients and jam sessions on the piano. While watching Mandalay, I recommend drinking a classic Pegu Club cocktail.

Pegu Club

1 ½ oz Gin

¾ oz Orange Curaçao

½ oz Lime Juice

1 dash Angostura Bitters

1 dash Orange Bitters

Combine all ingredients in a shaker with ice. Shake until chilled, then strain into a chilled coupe glass.

Eventually, Tanya and the doctor decide to atone for their sins by going to the dangerous part of Mandalay together, and their fate is left up to the viewer to decide. My opinion? Hot Doc cures the fever, they live happily ever after, and Spot White wears a new Orry-Kelly gown every single day from then on. Also, giant hats. Cheers!

Classic Films · Dramas

Double Indemnity

When someone says the term “Film Noir” Double Indemnity (Disc/Download) is the first movie that comes to mind. Although there are so many other notable films in the genre, Billy Wilder’s classic about a scheming wife and the insurance salesman she ensnares to do her bidding will always be my primary touchstone for moody lighting, complicated female characters, and sweeping musical scores.

Double Indemnity recently celebrated its 80th anniversary, and quite frankly, I was shocked to find I hadn’t covered it yet on Cinema Sips. I love this movie! Barbara Stanwyk is unbelievably sexy, Fred MacMurray is sleazy as hell, and the script is tighter than an assassin’s arms around a throat. My only excuse is that it’s not an overt “cocktail” movie. There’s no signature drink (like a bourbon on the rocks, or a Tom Collins) our characters order in some dimly lit bar while hatching their plan. Instead, these scumbags like to meet in broad daylight at the grocery store! The lack of alcohol is surprising, just like the climax that manages to shock me even after multiple watches. But that’s Billy Wilder for you- always swimming against the current.

As mentioned, Double Indemnity has a definite dearth of booze. Really, the only memorable beverage scene is where Fred MacMurray drinks Stanwyk’s iced tea, then follows it with a beer, “…to get rid of the sour taste of her iced tea and everything that went with it.” What a line!!!! This got me intrigued about a sour iced tea cocktail, and if you’re a fan of Arnold Palmers, you’ll want to give this a shot. While watching Double Indemnity, I recommend drinking an Iced Tea Sour.

Iced Tea Sour

2 oz Bourbon

1 oz Black Tea simple syrup

1 oz Lemon Juice

To make simple syrup, bring 1/4 cup water to a boil, then drop in a tea bag to steep. Once tea has steeped, add 1/4 cup sugar and return to heat. Simmer and stir until sugar has dissolved. Allow mixture to cool. Combine cooled syrup with bourbon and lemon juice in a shaker with ice. Shake until chilled, then strain into a tumbler filled with one large ice cube or ball. Garnish with a lemon twist.

MacMurray would go on to play yet another sleaze in Billy Wilder’s The Apartment, and in some ways I consider Double Indemnity to be a prequel to that film. The offices of the Pacific All-Risk insurance company look an awful lot like C.C. Baxter’s Consolidated Life Insurance offices, and both films force the audience to think about the value of a human life, as well as the consequences of a dangerous affair. My advice: start with the bleak world of Double Indemnity, then let laughter put the crumbled cookies back together in The Apartment. Cheers!

Classic Films · Comedies

Being There

My annual summer road trip has officially commenced, this time taking me to one of the most famous homes in America, and filming site of an essential movie within our cinematic history: A Biltmore Christmas.

Just kidding!

Although I love that delightful Hallmark Christmas flick, the real claim to fame for Vanderbilt’s opulent American castle is the 1979 Hal Ashby classic Being There (Disc/Download). I can only hope Shirley MacLaine’s infamous bearskin rug is part of the standard tour.

In this social and political satire, Peter Sellers plays a simple-minded gardener named Chance, who through a series of miscommunications and accidents, is brought to the home of a wealthy political operative. Believing Chance-the-Gardener to be “Chauncey Gardiner”, wise businessman and philosopher fallen on hard times, the Rands (Melvyn Douglas and Shirley MacLaine) adopt Chauncey into their rarefied world. Soon, this former gardener is spouting nonsense on television, having tête-à-têtes with the President, and fostering diplomacy with the Soviet Ambassador. His name is even batted around for the nomination in the next presidential election! At our present moment where America’s political future is on the shakiest of ground, Being There makes the viewer wonder: did Democracy ever exist in the first place? Or have powerful people always been throwing darts into the void, hoping to hit a malleable, naïve pawn whom the public would, if not love, at least not hate? And is that the best we can hope for, even now?

Because Chance’s true love is his garden, it seems appropriate to make a something from my own garden this week. About the only thing I’m capable of growing in the summer is a pot of basil, which lends itself to a flavorful cocktail syrup. While watching Being There, I recommend drinking this Honey Bee-ing There Basil Martini.

Honey Bee-ing There Basil Martini

1 ½ oz London Dry Gin

1 oz Honey-Basil simple syrup

¾ oz Lemon Juice

2 dashes Orange Bitters

2 oz Sparkling wine

Fresh Basil Leaf, Honeycomb (Garnish)

To make simple syrup, combine ¼ cup honey with ¼ cup water, adding 4-5 basil leaves. Simmer on the stove until honey is dissolved. Turn off heat. Allow basil leaves to steep as the syrup cools, then strain out the leaves. Next, in a shaker filled with ice, combine gin, prepared syrup, lemon juice, and bitters. Shake until chilled, then strain into a coupe glass. Top with sparkling wine, and garnish with a fresh basil leaf and honeycomb.

Most people remember the final shot of Being There, where Peter Sellers seems to walk on water with that familiar Biltmore symbol of American excess silhouetted off in the distance. Maybe a man pure of heart and free of ambition is what the country needed at that time, and maybe that’s what it still needs. Or maybe we just need someone capable of tending the garden. Cheers!

Classic Films · Uncategorized

The Thomas Crown Affair

The 1960s gave us a lot of great things, not least of which was the “sexy heist” genre. With films like How to Steal a Million, The Italian Job, Gambit, Ocean’s Eleven, The Pink Panther, and many, many others, it was a great time to be a robber in a Savile Row suit. Thus it’s no surprise that one of the most iconic heist films came out of this period, Norman Jewison’s 1968 classic The Thomas Crown Affair (Disc/Download).

Although most people are probably more familiar with the 1999 remake starring Pierce Brosnan and Rene Russo, the original starring Steve McQueen and Faye Dunaway is even better (in my opinion). I always thought the newer one tried too hard to be sexy, but back in the sixties, there was no trying- these people just were sexy. Tightly edited by Hal Ashby, the audience is pulled into the story immediately as Crown begins orchestrating a complex bank robbery. It’s a tense, perfectly planned job, and at the end of it, a bored millionaire walks away with more money than he needs, just to prove that he can. All goes swimmingly until he crosses paths with the insurance investigator hired to find the criminal mastermind, and unfortunately she’s his perfect match. Neither anticipates falling in love over fireside chess games, dune buggy runs on the beach, and cute strolls through the farmers market, but it quickly happens. The story takes some interesting turns, and even the ending is unexpected for someone well-versed in these movies. It takes a lot to surprise me, but this one did.

Norman Jewison always brings a dose of cheeky realism to his pictures, and Thomas Crown is no exception. Watching McQueen and Dunaway stroll through various Boston neighborhoods (some of them upscale, some of them decidedly not) grounds these extraordinarily beautiful and intelligent people in an actual time and place. While you’re watching The Thomas Crown Affair, do yourself a favor and pour a Boston cocktail.

Boston

1 ½ oz Gin

1 ½ oz Apricot Brandy

½ oz Lemon Juice

¼ oz Grenadine

Cherry garnish

Combine gin, apricot brandy, lemon juice, and grenadine in a shaker with ice. Shake until chilled, then strain into a martini glass. Garnish with a cherry.

Sexy heist movies are always an automatic watch in my house because the good ones keep me on my toes until the very end. I love a script that makes me wonder whether or not the robber will get away with it, and whether or not I want them too. Plus, the style is always superb. I know I can count on beautiful dresses, jewels, sports cars, and perfectly coifed hair, and in a world of so much uncertainty, isn’t it nice to be certain about these small but wonderful details? Just sayin’, if Hollywood ever wants to save itself, bring back the sexy heist. Make a dozen of them. I’ll buy every ticket. Cheers!