Comedies

The Cat’s Meow

Image: The Cat’s Meow, 2001

I’ve just returned from my summer travels, and wow, what a whirlwind! Ever hear the phrase, “I need a vacation from my vacation?” I understand it now, and so do the characters in Peter Bogdanovich’s The Cat’s Meow (Disc/Download). Was Hollywood producer Thomas Ince just “dying” to get off the Hearst yacht by any means necessary? Let’s set sail on a weekend full of mystery, intrigue, and maybe a little murder.

In telling the story of the untimely death of “Father of the Western” Ince, Bogdanovich gives us a fascinating glimpse into the world of William Randolph Hearst. It was a world full of lavish parties where guests of Hearst (think: politicians, titans of industry) would mingle with guests of his mistress, actress Marion Davies (think: lowly Hollywood folk) in boozy weekends full of stunning views and lush accommodations. In this case, it’s the Hearst yacht, carrying Charlie Chaplin, gossip columnist Louella Parsons, writer Elinor Glynn, producer Thomas Ince, and other prominent figures of the Jazz Age. They think they’re in for a fabulous cruise to San Diego, but what they don’t realize is that W.R. has trapped them in a game where he holds all the cards, and there are no winners. This man is so petty and paranoid that he spends the whole trip spying on his guests, certain they’re disrespecting him behind his back. And, admittedly, Marion is contemplating a dalliance with the little tramp Chaplin. This ship is full double-crossers and manipulators, and it’s a reminder of why I loathe cruising—you’re stuck in a confined space with insufferable people, and the solution is to either to swim for shore, or get unreasonably drunk.

One positive thing (maybe the only positive thing) I will say about Hearst is that he threw a hell of a dinner party. Even during Prohibition, he allowed his guests one cocktail apiece, plus all the Charleston dancing they could handle. Let’s toast the jubilant Jazz Age with this Charleston cocktail.

Charleston

½ oz gin

½ oz orange liqueur

½ oz maraschino liqueur

½ oz sweet vermouth

½ oz dry vermouth

½ oz cherry brandy

Combine all ingredients in a shaker with ice. Stir to chill, then strain into a glass. Garnish with a twist of lemon.

I was lucky enough to visit the Hearst Castle on my travels, and what a treat it was to see the spaces where Willie and Marion entertained their guests. Everything was so well preserved, it felt like Joan Crawford or Cary Grant could be coming up from the tennis court at any moment, requesting a cocktail before dinner. It preserves a moment in time where the stars came down to earth—mingling, dealing, and dreaming—in this pleasure palace on a hill. Cheers!

Dramas

Chaplin

Image credit: Chaplin, 1992

When times are tough, something that keeps me going is my connection to fellow cinephiles. One way I’ve made these connections is through the terrific film zine Moviejawn, where I’ve been a contributor for the past eight years. The latest issue is all about silent cinema, and in it, I confess my secret shame: until recently, I’d never watched a Chaplin film all the way through. How is this possible, you ask? Well, turns out you can fake it pretty well if you’ve watched this week’s Cinema Sips pick, Richard Attenborough’s Chaplin (Disc/Download).

Biopics are one of my favorite film genres, and having recently eschewed political podcasts in favor of dishy celebrity memoirs, I find myself craving more insight about how great films were made, and in particular, what was happening in a star’s personal life during the process. Chaplin ticks all the boxes: talented actor who sort of looks like the celebrity he’s playing (Robert Downey Jr.), recreation of classic film sets (The Gold Rush, The Great Dictator, etc.), outside forces trying to squash the star’s light (ugh, HUAC), terrific supporting cast playing real icons (Kevin Kline as Douglas Fairbanks!!!), and laughably bad old-age makeup and hair. The best biopics understand they’re not going to squeeze everything in, so instead they attempt to paint the broad strokes of a person’s life, getting to the essence of what made them so successful. Attenborough does this incredibly well, taking us from Chaplin’s Dickensian roots in a British work house, to the vaudeville stage, to America, to California, to his exile in Switzerland, and finally, to his triumphant return at the 1972 Academy Awards ceremony. Some scenes are sped up to mimic the frame rate of the silent films they pay homage to, and this helps the movie move at a satisfying clip. We don’t need to see everything; just the highlights and a few Keystone Cops bits.

The film I discuss in the most recent issue of Moviejawn is City Lights, and given it’s my first foray into the world of Charlie Chaplin, it feels appropriate to celebrate him with the classic cocktail that bears his name. I’ll share it here for my Cinema Sips readers, because it’s also a great one to try while you’re watching Attenborough’s Chaplin.

Chaplin

1 oz Sloe Gin

1 oz Apricot Liqueur

1 oz Lime Juice

Dried lime wheel (garnish)

Combine first three ingredients in a shaker with ice. Shake to chill, then strain into a coupe glass. Garnish with dried lime wheel.

I was surprised by how relevant Charlie Chaplin’s story continues to be today, along with his films. The silent comedian tackled themes of income inequality, authoritarianism, automation, immigration, xenophobia, etc., so it’s no wonder he was a target for a government hell bent on squashing anybody who dared speak out against America’s rotten core. Even more than a story of a flawed man, Chaplin is the story of a flawed country. But the one thing he knew, and the thing that Moviejawn continues to prove again and again, is how wonderfully films can unite us. Even in silence, we can hear each other calling out. Cheers!

*If you’re interested in subscribing to Moviejawn, details can be found here. I also highly recommend the spring issue’s accompanying Silence Please! vinyl record, perfect for immersing yourself in the silent cinema experience!