A lovely piece about the great man – who talks about an array of stuff including some of his more famous roles and also meeting Bob Dylan on the set of Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid
This article originally appeared in the August 1997 issue of Venice Magazine and comes via thehollywoodinterview
HARRY DEAN STANTON:
AMERICAN CHARACTER
By
Alex Simon
This article orginally appeared in the August 1997 issue of Venice Magazine.
“Genius is formed in quiet, character in the stream of human life.” –Goethe
Harry Dean Stanton is probably the most recognizable character actor working in film today. A veteran with over 80 films to his credit, 1997 marks Harry Dean’s 40th year as a film actor.
Just a sampling of the Harry Dean Stanton oeuvre includes: Pork Chop Hill, How the West Was Won, Cool Hand Luke, Cisco Pike, Two Lane Blacktop, Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, Dillinger, Godfather II, Rancho Deluxe, Farewell My Lovely, The Missouri Breaks, Straight Time; Wise Blood, Alien, The Rose, Private Benjamin, One From the Heart, Escape From New York, Christine, Repo Man, Paris Texas, Pretty in Pink, The Last Temptation of Christ ,The Mighty with Sharon Stone and Gena Rowlands, and his newest release, Nick Cassavetes’ She’s So Lovely.
Taken from a screenplay written by the late John Cassavetes (Nick’s father), She’s So Lovely tells the Charles Bukowski-esque tale of Maureen and Eddie, played by Robin Wright Penn and Sean Penn (who won Best Actor at this year’s Cannes Film Festival), two unstable barflies whose combustible romance causes havoc for everyone around around them. Harry Dean plays Shorty, one of their inner circle of drinking buddies, who tries to help Eddie cope upon his release from a mental hospital. The film is a sight to behold, as these seemingly low-life characters are brought to life and made sympathetic and very real, thanks to the skill and talent of the very impressive cast, script and direction. As always, Harry Dean is a delight to watch in his role as the boozy sage Shorty.
In addition to his film work, Harry Dean worked extensively in TV throughout the late 50’s and 1960’s. As if he wasn’t alrea dy busy enough, Harry Dean is an accomplished musician, whose band The Harry Dean Stanton Orchestra, plays weekly Monday night gigs at The Mint on Pico Blvd. in West L.A., as well as at the Moonlight Supper Club 13730 Ventura Blvd. Friday August 8th.
Born in West Irvine, Kentucky, Harry Dean Stanton grew up around Lexington, Ky. and served in the Navy during WW II. Following graduation from the University of Kentucky, he trained at the Pasadena Playhouse and for many years performed modestly on stage before entering films in the late 1950’s. Before long, he emerged as one of Hollywood’s most convincing character actors, a versatile performer with a broad repertoire of roles, from psychos and villains to sympathetic, even good-humored leading men. With his lean, everyman looks, and down-home folksy manner, few screen actors since James Stewart or Spencer Tracy could be called as quintessentially American as Harry Dean Stanton. On screen, he represents the sort of man we both know and would like to know. He carries this quality over into his own life, as well.
Harry Dean recently sat down at his comfortable hilltop home, surrounded by his collection of guitars, records, books and photographs, and reflected on his phenomenal life both on and off-screen.
You were born in West Irvine, Kentucky, a long way from Hollywood. What was that like?
HARRY DEAN STANTON: It was a small town, mostly tobacco farmers, things like that.
As a kid were you always interested in acting?
I always had a dramatic flare. I’d like to dress up as a cowboy, play make believe…but I didn’t realize acting was something I had to do until I was in college.
You served in the Navy during WW II, before college. See any action overseas?
Yeah. I was in the battle of Okinawa when the suicide planes were coming in. But I was pretty lucky. We had so many ships over there. One of the (Japanese planes) got through one day, they’d come in with the sun behind them. But usually the destroyers would go out and meet them. I was on an LST–ammunition ship. If we’d gotten hit…like I said, I was lucky.
Did you study drama in college?
No. First journalism, then radio arts…and I did a play and got a good response from that. I understood it. I was at home on stage. At that point I was trying to decide if I wanted to be a singer, musician or an actor. But I thought that by being an actor I could dabble in a little bit of everything, because I’ve always been interested in lots of things. But as an actor I figured I could travel and hopefully make a little money (laughs), which I did and I’ve been lucky.
What was that first play you did?
Pygmalion by Shaw. I played Alfred Doolittle, Eliza’s father, with a Cockney accent. I was pretty good. I had a good ear for dialects, so I guess it was a pretty good stage accent, but a real Cockney probably would’ve turned over in his grave, or a Brit. (laughs) And from there, I hopped on a Greyhound bus and studied at the Pasadena playhouse.
What was that like?
Well, I studied there for two years and then stayed two more years after that, but I should’ve gone to New York after (I graduated), like everyone was telling me. That’s when the Actor’s Studio was really hot and the Neighborhood Playhouse. But I found myself a home in Pasadena and stayed there for two more years, doing plays, then I went back east, did another play in Lexington (Kentucky), then I answered an ad in the paper that said “Singers Wanted” and got on a singing tour with this Baptist preacher who wanted to spread the word of God through song. So we’d go into a town, pass out leaflets, give concerts. Actually we sang in Tennessee, too, for (Jimmy) Carter when he was Governor of Tennessee. I was impressed with him then and I still like him. I think he was one of the most decent Presidents we’ve ever had.
I think he’s our best ex-President with all the humanitarian things he’s done after leaving office.
Yeah, he’s done a lot. I just don’t think he was strong enough to deal with all those high-powered politicians…but I think he’s the most decent President we’ve ever seen, at least in my time. Especially, like you said, with all the work he’s done out of office. Carter was probably the truest public servant we’ve had in the presidency.
What happened after the choral group?
I went back to Kentucky for about a year, then went to New York where I signed up with Stella Adler, but then got stuck doing another miserable road tour with a children’s play (laughs) that went all over the country. Then when we got out here I quit and that was 1957 and one of my early gigs was an episode of Alfred Hitchcock Presents, which Hitchcock directed. I was impressed with him. I loved Hitchcock. He was great. Then I got a movie called The Proud Rebel, starring Alan Ladd and Alan Ladd, Jr., when he was just a little kid. It was directed by Michael Curtiz, who did Casablanca. And ever since then, I haven’t stopped working.
I understand that during the 1960’s, you and Jack Nicholson were roommates?
Yeah for about two and a half years in Laurel Canyon on a road called Skyline Drive. And during that time is when Jack did Easy Rider. Jack’s always been very smart. Even then he was producing, writing…he’s very well-grounded.
Any great stories about living with Jack?
Oh yeah. I could talk forever about that, but…it’s all a lot of personal things. We’re still good pals. He’s a crumudgeon sometimes, but he’s been a loyal friend. He’s been attacked enough in the press.
Tell me some more about working with Hitchcock.
He was great. I remember we had a whole sequence to shoot, me and this kid Tom Pitman, who later got killed in a Porsche driving in Benedict Canyon, rest his soul. And we were standing around waiting for Hitchcock to direct us in the scene, where Tom and I were kidnapping E.G. Marshall, tying him up. So Hitchcock tells us (imitating him) “You fellows just go down there and work it out.” (laughs) Never said another word! Nothing! He just let us do it. That’s what I loved about him. All great directors do that, they say very little to actors. It’s the insecure ones who start giving a lot of directions, thinking that they have to be doing something all the time. You never want to tell an actor how to do his job. Good actors know what to do anyway.
Tell me everything a director should know about actors.
Well number one, you don’t have to be an authority figure. If you hear a director say “I’m the director and you’ll do what I say!”…If you ever feel yourself wanting to say that, you’re in deep shit. (laughs) I worked with George Lucas too, and you wouldn’t even know he was there, hardly. I did a video for him with Linda Ronstadt, Dolly Parton and Emmylou Harris. Still plays sometimes. If you know your material, you’ve got to get good actors. Casting is 75% of it, or more. If you’ve got a good script and good actors, you’re in good shape.
Was Hollywood pretty overwhelming to a nice boy from Kentucky at first?
Not really when I started to do films, because I’d already been doing plays and those two nightmare road tours…but it was rough at first because I got stuck doing so much television…I did a lot of westerns, Gunsmoke, The Virginian, did The Walter Winchell Files, where I played a cop killer and that got me the The Proud Rebel, my first break. I kept doing TV until ’69.
Was any of your family in Kentucky artistic at all?
No, not really. We sang a lot. Our mother taught us. My brothers Ralph and Archie and I sang barbershop harmoney together. We’d sing Irish songs. I was always singing. I was in the Glee Club, choral groups in high school and college, in the Navy. I had a barber shop quartet in high school. Still love barbershop. I still love music. I’ve got a band now, playing every Monday night down at The Mint. I’m the lead singer and play rhythm guitar and harmonica.
Tell me some more about your family.
I had two brothers and two half-sisters and later on I had a half-brother when my mother re-married. My folks got divorced when I was in high school. My father was a farmer, tobacco farmer. He combined that with being a barber. My mother was a hairdresser. And that’s about it. My family was the usual family, you know. 50% or more of all marriages end in divorce. It’s sad. It’s a dysfunctional society as far as I’m concerned. Religion…I’m not into religion much. It hasn’t really done the job.
Tell me some more about The Harry Dean Stanton Orchestra.
I’ve got a great bunch of musicians with me. Jamie James is my guitar player. He was with the King Bees. They had some records on the charts in the early 80’s. Tom Slick is the bass player. He’s great. Danny Marfisi is our drummer. Stu Ulster plays keyboards. They’re all great. We’ll be playing at The Mint through September. We’re building up a good crowd. We also play Jack’s Sugar Shack at Hollywood and Vine about once a month and New Year’s Eve.
Have you ever sung on film?
Yeah. In Cool Hand Luke I sang a song called “Just a Closer Walk With Me.” Matter of fact, they gave me the guitar that I played in the film. I also taught Paul (Newman) that song he sang, “I Don’t Care if it Rains or Freezes, Long as I Got My Plastic Jesus.” (laughs) It was a good time. A good shoot.
What was it like working with Sam Peckinpah on Pat Garrett?
Well, the thing I remember most about that shoot is becoming friends with Bob Dylan. We hung out quite a bit during the shoot. Drove together all the way from Guadalajara, Mexico to Kansas City together. We jammed together quite a bit. He liked my Mexican songs. I can sing in Spanish. But Peckinpah, he was a volatile, very difficult guy. He never got on my case, but he was very hard on women. He was a drinker, you know. A real character. My theory was, he had a TV series once about an anti-hero called The Westerner, or something. The guy had a dog, and didn’t always win the gunfights. It got canceled…Sam was really trying to do good work, but my theory is he just got pissed off at the whole industry and started making violent films. I never really liked that whole genre, the western. Most were just morality plays with a good guy and bad guy…not really my bag.
What is your favorite genre?
No genre, really. Anything that’s original.
You seem to be drawn toward character-driven material and to stay away from blockbuster films with lots of pyrotechnics, explosions, and so on.
Yeah, well that stuff’s all too obvious. It’s like a circus. Circus maxiumus. It’s reminiscent of the Forum in Rome, with the lions and the Christians. (laughs)
Tell me about doing Godfather II.
Well working with (Francis) Coppola is always fun. I did three films with him. One was a television film. I played Rip Van Winkle (laughs). I love Francis. He’s a wonderful director. Respects actors. He did something on One From the Heart that was, especially for a “big time” director was really wonderful. There was a scene with Teri Garr and Fred Forrest and he came up to me and said “Harry Dean, you direct this scene.” No director has done that before, or since with me. And I did, I helped him direct it. Of course he had the final word on it, but for a director to do something like that is pretty special.
You did Farewell My Lovely with Robert Mitchum, who just died. What was he like?
Oh, he was a legendary character. Great story teller. He was good to be around. Always stoned (laughs).
You hung out with some legendary people yourself during the 60’s: Nicholson, Dennis Hopper, Peter Fonda. It must’ve been a great time.
The 60’s were great. They ought to re-run ’em. A lot people didn’t get it.
What didn’t they get?
The whole revolutionary concept is the consciousness revolution against the whole system. The state, government, religion, everything. A lot of eastern religion started having an effect on the culture, too, at that point. Alan Watts, Kerouac, Ginsberg, Leary of course, who leaned a little too heavily on LSD saving the world, but I understood exactly what he was doing. On LSD the ego just goes out the window. It’s all tied in to eastern philosophy and Bhuddism, although they certainly wouldn’t recommend LSD (laughs) because that’s not the answer to it.
It sounds like you really relate to eastern philosophy and spirituality more than western.
Oh yeah, totally. I can’t relate to the Judaic-Christian concept at all. It’s a fascistic concept. All fear-based. All about there being a boss. Someone in charge. A creator. As far as we know, infinity is a reality. There’s no beginning to this and no end. So (the Judaic-Christians) made it, ‘Okay, after you die you’re gonna live forever, but not before.’ But with a positive eternity, there’s no ending and you also have to realize there’s no beginning, which blows the creationist theory totally out the window.
The other interesting thing about most western religions if you read about their history is that they were all based on commerce: the upper class exploiting the lower, uneducated class.
Well I’m convinced that Christ was a Bhuddist. And the Jewish hierarchy and certainly the Romans didn’t want any part of that, because that would blow their whole trip. They were in charge and they had their “Bossman” religion. It’s totally hypocritical, egotistical and presumptuous to think that God is a guy, you know?! Mark Twain I think, said “God created man in his own image. Who do you suppose thought of that?” (laughs) It’s almost naive, such a ludicrous concept. It’s a Bronze Age concept. You have to be careful not to go around preaching, you know. Get labeled as “subversive.” Which is why they killed Christ! They always talk about there were years they didn’t know where Christ was. I’m convinced that’s when he went to India, because everything he talks about is Bhuddistic. “Take no thought for the morrow.” “The way and the light.” He was trying to teach everybody that everybody’s the son of God. Then the Romans came along and said “Uh-uh. You can be the son of God, but nobody else.” (laughs) So they kept their authority and kept Christ as the authority figure: followers, fear.
Let’s talk some more about your films. Alien sticks out as the one blockbuster you’ve been involved in.
Yeah. And that’s a really classic movie now. I never liked science fiction movies or monster movies, but that one was very believable. I told Ridley Scott during my interview with him that I didn’t like those sorts of films and he said “Well I don’t either, actually, but I think I can make something of this one.” And he did.
How about Repo Man?
That and Paris, Texas are my two favorites. Repo Man was hectic. Both were low budget films, which makes it tough. But I thought Repo Man was a brilliant satire on the whole culture, on everything: violence, religion, desperation of the whole society trying to make it. How a man’s got to have a “code.” Some wonderful lines in that. (Writer-director) Alex Cox did a wonderful job.
Your performance in Paris, Texas is one of the most amazing I’ve ever seen, especially since you remain silent throughout most of the film.
Thank you very much. Sam Shepard’s writing also contributed a great deal to that. The script is the thing that draws all the talent together: director, actors, everyone. The emotional effect it all has on the audience is due to the script.
Your character in Paris, Texas is one of the saddest I’ve ever seen. How do you get to a place like that?
I just play myself. Even with other actors, I just play to the actor, I don’t play to the character. I talk to the other actors as myself, as the actor, not as the character. That’s my approach. Nicholson helped me to start doing that. I had been thinking about it for a long time anyway, that I want to learn to play myself before I start worrying about getting into character with all the limps and accents, which some actors are really good at, like Dustin, Sean Penn, Marlon, Johnny Depp, Meryl Streep.
When you have to go to a dark place with a character, like in Paris, Texas, does that take a toll physically?
No, not with that kind of character. There was something haunting about him, very believable. Dark characters to me are serial killers, like Dennis Hopper’s role in Blue Velvet. As a matter of fact, David Lynch wanted to meet with me to play that role originally and I turned the meeting down because I think I was afraid of it. That was a big mistake, though. I wish I’d done it and just seized the bull by the horns. The older I got, the more I didn’t want to go (to those dark places) which is a mistake for an actor. And this isn’t to say that in the end I would’ve gotten the role…this is tricky, but Dennis knows all this. There were three roles I turned down that he wound up doing: Blue Velvet, River’s Edge and Hoosiers. And Dennis was nominated for an Oscar for Hoosiers. For River’s Edge I told ’em to call Dennis (laughs). And I sincerely don’t want to sound self-serving or to rain on Dennis’ parade, although I probably have (laughs). Dennis and I have laughed about it before.
What was it like working with Scorsese on Last Temptation of Christ?
He’s one of the best. I think it was great material. I think that film will be around for years, in spite of all the protests from the whole Christian world who didn’t want to see Christ as a human being.
What amazed me about all the protests was that Last Temptation is one of the most reverent films ever made!
It is! All it did was show his last temptation on the cross which was that he wanted to be married with kids and live a regular life. And most of the protesters and their leaders never even saw the film. It was just a follow-the-leader situation.
Do you think most people find it easier to live life that way?
Oh sure. That way they have no responsibility. Total tunnelvision. Wilhelm Reich, who was a contemporary of Freud’s, had something interesting to say about that. He said that human beings are terrified of total freedom, and of feeling good. I’m talking about total psychological freedom, which the eastern religions are into, where you’re your own guru, really. And your own master, ultimately. In fact everybody’s God and capable of that consciousness. That’s what Christ was talking about. That was the good news, the gospel, which is a Bhuddist concept. Again, he was a Bhuddist, philosophically and a Jew ethnically.
How was it working with Nicholson, Brando and (director) Arthur Penn on The Missouri Breaks?
That was a great experience. Marlon has since become a great friend to me. Me and Sean Penn and him have talked about doing a film together. And Arthur is a great director. There was this scene where I was with a big group of people around a campfire and all hell breaks loose with shooting, running…and I said to Arthur “What do I do?” and Arthur says “Nothing!” And it was great! It gave me the freedom just to honestly react to everything going on around me.
Almost every movie I’ve seen this summer, I’ve wanted to yell at the actors “Bring it down!”
There’s a great story about that. A veteran director is talking with this young actor who’s just chewing the scenery, hamming it up and the director tells him “Cut it in half.” So they do another take. The director says “Now cut that in half.” They do another take. “Now cut that in half.” And the actor yells “If I cut it down anymore I won’t be doing anything!” And the director says “Exactly!”
That’s a great story.
And the other biggest problem an actor faces is rushing. That was my biggest enemy. Don’t let the camera crew and lighting people…they take all the fucking time in the world. Mostly it’s the lighting people. And when they finally get ready to shoot it, they’re rushing the actors. “C’mon, we gotta get this shot!” Meanwhile you’ve got a lighting crew taking all the time they want.
Tell me about your newest film She’s So Lovely.
It was a real pleasure working with Robin, Sean, John Travolta and Debi Mazar and the rest of the cast and crew. It’s always a pleasure working with talented people.
Did you ever work with John Cassavetes?
No. I love Nick, though. I loved working with him. Nick’s practically a first time director. This is only his second film as a director. He’s as good as any director I’ve worked with. He’s great with actors.
Music plays a major part in your life. What’s your favorite kind?
I love all kinds of music: country, folk, rock n’ roll if it’s not loud. I hate blast out rock n’ roll, which most of them make the mistake of doing. They start way up here at a volume and they’ve got no place to go. As far as artists I like there’s Phil Ochs, Dylan, Kristofferson, Credence Clearwater Revival, I love. John Fogerty, their lead singer, is great. Muddy Waters, Jimmy Reed, all the black blues singers. I like roots rock. Pretty much everything.
Since we’ve talked so much about eastern religion and philosophy, how did you discover it originally?
I started reading Ralph Waldo Emerson, which got me started questioning the whole traditional concept of religion. I was at the Pasadena Playhouse and found this book just lying in the dust one day. Somebody had dropped a book of Emerson and I picked it up.
That was no accident that you found that.
No. There are no accidents.
“Can’t we all just get the f**k along ?!”
September 15, 2008
Posted by stupidand |
Harry Dean Stanton, OTHER_ARTICLE, OTHER_CINEMA, _BOB DYLAN |
Leave a comment
Nico – These Days (1967)Mp3 / RSThis is a great song – and version thereof – that has undergone significant re-assessment in the past few years, all thanks to it’s prefect placement in a perfect movie back in 2001!
Yes, all thanks to supreme director Wes Anderson and his sublime the Royal Tenenbaums.
Wes Anderson is a genius at meshing scenes and songs together beautifully.
There’s a beautiful scene in the sublime the Royal Tenenbaums, when Ritchie Tenenbaum returns home after a long period at sea and is being met at the port by his loved one – and half-sister! – Margot, when this magnificent Nico track meshed perfectly with the scenario, the cinematography and the acting.
Even better than this great Nico scene though, was the suicide scene where Ritchie first shaves off his beard and then slits his wrist with the blade, to the sounds of the late great Elliot Smith’s “Needle in the Hay”. That segment itself is the greatest music video ever created!
Catch The Royal Tenenbaums – DVD and Soundtrack – and other Wes Anderson stuff here; Wes Anderson
The track was written by Jackson Browne and first appeared on Nico’s great
Chelsea Girl LP back in 1967. Strangely, neither Nico nor Browne are said to have been happy with the recording from the 1967 sessions! I am though! So are many others!
Jackson Browne now plays the Nico arrangement of the song at his shows, so he must’ve changed his viewpoint too!
The song has, since then, been recorded by numerous artists – including Gregg Allman and Browne himself – in many different musical styles.
The song has lasted for decades as a classic of introspection.
What’s most remarkable though is the fact that Browne was only 16 years old when he wrote it!
In the mid-to-late 1960s Browne was a precocious songwriter who was pitching his material to various artists and publishing houses. On January 7, 1967 he made some demo recordings for Nina Music Publishing at Jaycino Studio in New York City. Included in these demos was ” I’ve Been Out Walking”, the earliest manifestation of “These Days”. Yet the song was even older than that; Browne would later say he wrote it when he was sixteen years old, meaning in 1964 or 1965.
Nico was the first to record “These Days” for release, on her October 1967 album Chelsea Girl. Here there was an odd mix of production elements: a fairly fast, almost upbeat fingerpicking electric-sounding-acoustic guitar – part of its time – by Browne (suggested by Andy Warhol), combined with strings and flutes (added after the fact by producer Tom Wilson, without Nico’s knowledge) combined with the sad, near-desperate tone of the lyrics, all wrapped around Nico’s mannered, icy Teutonic vocals.
While Nico never achieved much commercial visibility, her work caught the attention of other musicians and songwriters. And although Browne was still several years from getting his own recording contract, his wise-beyond-his-years talent was quickly recognized by other performers looking for material.
Of Browne’s catalogue during this period, “These Days,” along with his “Shadow Dream Song,” were regarded as his gems. Thus “These Days” was recorded in 1968 by The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band on their album Rare Junk, by Tom Rush on his 1970 album Tom Rush, by Kenny Loggins’ first band, Gator Creek, around the same time, and by Iain Matthews on his 1973 album Valley Hi.
The song has, since the Royal Tenenbaums, been the subject of much critical re-assessment and has suddenly become one of Browne’s best known songs.
In 2006, Pitchfork Media placed the Nico version of “These Days” at number 31 in The 200 Greatest Songs of the 1960s !
I’ve been out walkingI don’t do too much talking these daysThese DaysThese days I seem to think a lot about the things that I forgot to doAnd all the times I had the chance to
I’ve stopped my rambling
I don’t do too much gambling these days
These days
These days I seem to think about how all the changes came about my way
And I wonder if I’d see another highway
I’ve had a lover
I don’t I’d risk another these days
These days
And if I seem to be afraid to live the life that I have made and sob
Its just that I’ve been losing so long
I’ve stopped my dreaming
I don’t do too much scheming these days
These Days
These days I sit in cornerstones and count the time in quarter tones to ten
Please don’t confront me with my failures
I had not forgotten them
From: lilbranda
You can DL this track here;
These Days_Nico.mp3
You can DL the LP via this post;
nico -chelsea girl
August 28, 2008
Posted by stupidand |
Jackson Browne, Music_Alternative, Nico, OTHER_CINEMA, Wes Anderson, _MUSIC, _POETRY, _VIDEO |
Leave a comment
Planes, Trains and Automobiles
DVD Rip / RS
I want a fucking car RIGHT FUCKING NOW!
We’ve already posted the excellent soundtrack to this film which includes a track by our favourite Irish band ever,
THE STARS OF HEAVEN!
Check the soundtrack HERE!
Neal: Del, why did you kiss my ear?
Del: Why are you holding my hand?
Neal: Where’s your other hand?
Del: Between two pillows …
Neal: Those aren’t pillows!
This movie is excellent, somewhat of a comedy classic, replete with shitloads of wonderful comic moments.
Far far better than one would expect from writer / director John Hughes – who here avoids sappy sentimentality and pimply teenagers in favour of intelligent adult oriented comedy !
And the star, Steve Martin, believe it or not, was still funny then – check out the classic scene where Martin unleashes a tirade, littered with ‘fucks” at a car rental agent … You can start by wiping that fucking dumb-ass smile off your rosey, fucking, cheeks … etc!
Of course, we always liked the comic acting of the late great John Candy.
The film, the second to pair Steve Martin and John Candy, was greeted with critical accolades in 1987, rather surprisingly, given the fact that at the time Martin and Candy were both known as relatively low-brow comedians and John Hughes considered a teen angst filmmaker.
Their attempts at producing an ‘adult’ comedy resulted in one of the most highly regarded films of the decade.
PTA now has 97% positive ratings on Rotten Tomatoes and is featured in Roger Ebert’s Great Movies collection.
In 2000, readers of Total Film magazine voted it the 10th greatest comedy film of all time.
Her first baby came out sideways. She didn’t scream or nothin.
In the film, Steve Martin plays the tightly wound Neal Page, a bundle-of-nerves advertising executive. Ying to his Yang, of course we get John Candy portraying the innocent, but always skewered, Del Griffith (Director of sales, American Light and Fixture, shower curtain ring division), a shower curtain ring salesman who seems to live in a world governed by a different set of rules from those governing Neal Page’s marketing life.
The movie follows the story of Neal Page as he tries to return to his family for Thanksgiving in Chicago after being on a business trip in New York. The journey is doomed from the outset, with Del Griffith interfering by snatching the taxi cab that Page had hailed for himself. The two inevitably pair up later and begin an absurdly error-prone adventure to help Page get back to his home.
Their flight from LaGuardia Airport to O’Hare is diverted to Wichita due to a blizzard in Chicago, which ends up dissipating only a few hours after touchdown in Kansas. When every mode of transport fails them, what should have been a 1 hour and 45 minute New York-to-Chicago flight turns into a three-day wild goose chase, punctuated by Neal’s occasional declarations to no one in particular that, “You’re messing with the wrong guy!“.
Neal frequently blows up at Del, blaming him for much of their misfortunes, though mere fate is more at fault. Del in turn regards Neal as pretentious and uptight, while Del is less afraid to be himself. After much heated arguments between the two men, a bond between them forms, and Neal finally manages to overcome his self-centeredness and both men pull together to finally make their way home.
Under the assumption that Del has a wife and family of his own (he frequently mentions his wife Marie and puts a framed picture of her on his various motel nightstands), Neal is taken aback when he later sees Del sitting alone at the empty Union Station, after they finally make it back to Chicago.
Del tells Neal that Marie actually passed away eight years ago and that he’s been homeless ever since. The bond between the two men strengthens further when Neal invites him into his home for the holidays.
Car Rental Agent: Welcome to Marathon, may I help you?
Neal: Yes.
Car Rental Agent: How may I help you?
Neal: You can start by wiping that fucking dumb-ass smile off your rosey, fucking, cheeks! Then you can give me a fucking automobile: a fucking Datsun, a fucking Toyota, a fucking Mustang, a fucking Buick! Four fucking wheels and a seat!
Car Rental Agent: I really don’t care for the way you’re speaking to me.
Neal: And I really don’t care for the way your company left me in the middle of fucking nowhere with fucking keys to a fucking car that isn’t fucking there. And I really didn’t care to fucking walk down a fucking highway and across a fucking runway to get back here to have you smile in my fucking face. I want a fucking car RIGHT FUCKING NOW!
Car Rental Agent: May I see your rental agreement?
Neal: I threw it away.
Car Rental Agent: Oh boy.
Neal: Oh boy, what?
Car Rental Agent: You’re fucked!
August 20, 2008
Posted by stupidand |
John Candy, John Hughes, OTHER_CINEMA, Steve Martin, _OTHER |
Leave a comment
“Hang on to me, baby, and let’s hope that the roof stays on”
We’re gonna take a look at, and listen to, the famous rambling surreal epic Dylan ballad originally known as New Danville Girl (or simply Danville Girl) that would later mutate and become “Brownsville Girl“, recorded officially on Dylan’s Knocked out Loaded LP from 1986.
Of course there is a famous traditional ballad called Danville Girl, a version of which was recorded by Dylan icon Woody Guthrie, which Bob would have been only too familiar with. Aside from the original title, and a couple of lyrical “borrowings” (“Danville curl” etc) the Dylan track bears little similarity to the trad classic. You can catch the Woody track
HEREThe track
“Brownsville Girl” was originally recorded as “New Danville Girl” in late 1984 during the Empire Burlesque sessions, but not released on the album. It would ultimately be released with rewritten lyrics on Knocked out Loaded in 1986.
We have set out the lyrics to both versions below and it’s fascinating to see the tinkering and changes which took place between versions.
“Brownsville Girl” is credited to Bob Dylan and playwright Sam Shepard, although it’s not clear what Shepard actually contributed. Certainly, by the time it was officially recorded, the lyrics seem to be mostly Dylan’s work.
Interestingly, the backup singers on the track aren’t just scenery here! Especially on the final version. Not only do they perform the long song’s haunting chorus but sardonically interject their own replies, such as “Oh, yeah?”, etc.
RINGO WAS HIS NAME! THE CHALLENGE OF EVERY OUTLAW GUNMAN! THE NOTORIOUS SELF-DEFENSE KILLER!
The song is a strange and fascinating one!
Rather surreally, the narrator interrupts his reminisces of the mysterious eponymous Danville /Brownsville Girl to describe the plot of a Western movie starring Gregory Peck that he saw once (but believes he sat through twice)!!
The plot of said Western movie climaxes when a young upstart who shoots a famed aging gunslinger, is cursed by the dying man to the effect that the usurper will, for his remaining days, himself be a moving target and will never attain peace.
Of course Dylan is a renowned afficianado of old westerns and film noirs.
It’s almost certain that Dylan is alluding to Peck’s 1950 film The Gunfighter, a taut and sparse western directed by Henry King.
Amongst the writers of this timeless film was the great André De Toth who himself directed some classic westerns.
In
The Gunfighter, Peck portrays the ficticious “Jimmy Ringo”, the fastest gun in the west and “the notorious self-defense killer“!
Jimmy is aging and continually accosted by younger men who want to claim his title and assume his fame.
All Ringo wants to do is put his past behind him and, to this end, drifts from town to town trying to find anonymity.
He is the classic existentialist case of the hunted, haunted man with nowhere to lay his head. Kind of an amalgam of Camus, Beckett and John Ford!
Early in the movie, Ringo has to deal with yet another young gunslinger who wants to see just how fast Jimmy is! Ringo obliges and shows the upstart exactly how fast he is!
After eight years away from home, Ringo is on a quest, back in town to see his estranged wife and young son, hoping for some reconciliation. He enlists the aid of a man from his past, a sympathetic sheriff, played by Millard Mitchell, who reluctantly acts as go-between while Ringo lies low in the back room of a hotel.
Ringo
does get to meet his wife and is introduced to his adoring son, but there can be no resolution of their personal problems.
Ringo the lonely gunfighter must pack up, leave his wife and child, move on once again.
As Ringo turns to leave town, another young glory-seeker appears and shoots him in the back.
The sheriff grabs the killer and is going to turn him over to justice. However, with his last breath, Jimmy Ringo tells the sheriff to turn the kid free, let him know what it’s like to be a hunted soul never able to rest.
To seal the kid’s fate, Jimmy asks that it be publicised that he is “the man who outdrew Jimmy Ringo.”
So ends this subtle, powerful film, a true jewel of the Western genre!
Here’s a snippet from this great film.
Thanks to Eyolf Østrem for the lyrics.
I wish I could remember that movie just a little bit better,All I remember about it was that it starred Gregory Peck.He was shot down in the back by a hungry kid trying to make a name for himself.The townspeople wanted to crush that kid down and string him up by the neck.
Well the Sheriff beat that boy into a bloody pulp,
As the dying gunfighter lay in the sun and gasped for his last breath.
‘Turn him loose, let him go, let him say he outdrew me fair and square.
I want him to feel what it’s like to every moment face his death’.
Well I keep seeing this stuff and it just comes a-rolling in,
And it blows right through me like a ball and chain.
You know I can’t believe we’ve lived so long and are still so far apart.
Your memory keeps callin’ after me like a rollin’ train.
I can still see the day that you came to me on the painted desert
In your busted-down Ford and your platform heels.
I could never figure out why you chose that particular place to meet,
Ah, but you were right. It was perfect, as I got in behind the wheel.
We drove that car all night into San Antone
And we slept near the Alamo, fell out under the stars.
Way down in Mexico you went out to see a doctor and you never came back.
I stayed there a while, till the whole place it started feelin’ like mars.
Well, I’m driving this car and the sun is comin’ up over the Rockies.
Somethin’ about it reminds me of you, like when she sings “Baby, let the good times roll”.
But I’m too over the edge to remember the things we used to talk about or do,
And she don‘t want to remind me, she knows this car would go out of control.
Danville Girl with your Danville curl,
Teeth like pearls, shining like the moon above.
Danville Girl take me all around the world.
Danville Girl, you’re my honey love.
Well. we crossed the Panhandle and then we headed out towards Amarillo,
Rushin’ down where Henry Porter used to live, he owned a wreckin’ lot outside of town,
We could see Ruby in the window, as we came rolling up in a trail of dust.
She said ‘Henry’s not here, he took off, but y’all can come in and stay a while’.
Well she told us times were tough but we never knew how bad off she was.
You know she would change the subject every time money came up.
You know her eyes were filled with so much sadness, she was so disillusioned with everything,
She said ‘Even the swap meets around here are getting pretty corrupt’.
‘How far y’all going?’ Ruby asked us with a sigh.
‘We’re going all the way ’till the wheels fall off and burn.
Till the sun peels the paint and the seat covers fade and the water moccasin dies’.
Ruby just smiled and said ‘Ah, you know, some babies never learn’.
I keep trying to remember that movie though, and it does keep comin’ back,
But I can’t remember what part I played or who I was supposed to be.
All I can remember about it is it’s starring Gregory Peck and he was in it,
And everything he did in it reminded me of me. Yeah!
Danville Girl with your Danville curl,
Teeth like pearls, shining like the moon above.
Danville Girl take me all around the world.
Danville Girl, you’re my honey love.
Well, they were looking for somebody with a pompadour.
I was crossing the street when they opened fire.
I didn’t know whether to duck or to run so I ran.
Sounded to me like I was bein’ chased by the midnight choir.
Well, you saw my picture in the Corpus Christi Tribune, underneath it said ‘A man with no alibi’.
You went out on a limb to testify and you said I was with you. Ah, yes you did!
And I watched you break down in front of the judge and cry.
It was the best acting I ever saw you do.
I’ve always been an emotional person but this time it was asking too much.
If there’s an original thought out there, Oh, I could use it right now!
Yeah, I feel pretty good, but you know I could feel a whole lot better, oh yes I could,
If you were just here by my side to show me how.
Well, I’m standing in line in the rain to see a movie starring Gregory Peck.
Oh yes I am, but it’s not the one that I had in mind.
He’s got a new one out now, you know it just don’t look the same,
But I’ll see him anyway and I stand in line.
Danville Girl with your Danville curl,
Teeth like pearls, shining like the moon above.
Danville Girl take me all around the world.
Danville Girl, you’re my honey love.
You know, it’s funny how people just want to believe what’s convenient.
Nothing happens on purpose, it’s an accident if it happens at all.
And everything that’s happening to us seems like it’s happening without our consent,
But we’re busy talking back and forth to our shadows on an old stone wall.
Oh, you got to talk to me now baby, tell me about the man that you used to love,
And tell me about your dreams, just before the time you passed out. Oh, yeah!
Tell me about the time that our engine broke down and it was the worst of times,
Tell me about all the things that I couldn’t do nothin’ about.
There was a movie I seen one time, I think I sat through it twice.
I don’t remember who I was or what part I played.
All I remember about it was it was starring Gregory Peck.
But that was a long time ago, and it was made in the shade.
Danville girl with your Danville curl,
Teeth like pearls, shining like the moon above.
Danville Girl take me all around the world.
Danville Girl, you’re my honey love.
Bob Dylan – “Danville Girl”
“Tell me about your dreams, just before the time you passed out”
And here’s “Brownsville Girl“, recorded officially on Dylan’s Knocked out Loaded LP from 1986.
We found an interesting article about ‘Brownsville Girl’ here from
judasmagazine
‘Brownsville Girl’: Just Another Horse Opera
‘Brownsville Girl’ is as cunning a song as Dylan has ever devised, and yet it smacks as little of contrivance as anything he’s written. The song is pure serendipity. It just unwinds along a palpably untrodden path of memory and desire opened up by the recollection of images from the obscure old movie – The Gunfighter – with which it begins. And it unwinds with an extraordinary illusion of spontaneity, as if Dylan (and co-writer Sam Shepard) had no idea where it was leading, let alone how it was going to get there. The lyric teems with observations – ‘It’s funny how things never turn out the way you had ‘em planned,’ or ‘I don’t remember who I was or where I was bound’ – that seem to refer as much to the experience of composing the song as to its narrative.
The song’s narrative plotting often feels as if it were being conjured on the spot as a symbolic representation of the composers’ experience in writing the song. ‘Brownsville Girl’ – the song – is itself, at any rate, the only certifiably factual evidence of the tragicomic misadventuring it ostensibly recollects. We can’t get it out of our heads – any more than Dylan has been able to shake the memory of ‘this movie I seen one time’ – because in the final analysis art is, in its own way, just as messy and unfinished as life. Art heals, but it also draws fresh blood.
This is an old theme for Dylan – Aidan Day treats it rather extensively in his book Jokerman – but I don’t think Dylan has ever treated the limits of his art as compellingly or as accessibly as he does in ‘Brownsville Girl’. Perhaps much of the credit for this should go to Sam Shepard, if not for his contributions to the lyric – I suppose we’ll never know who wrote what – then at least for getting Dylan to loosen up and let down his creative guard. ‘Brownsville Girl’ isn’t the first song in which Dylan allows his muse to take him on a wild ride, but it may be the first in which he declines to cover her tracks and conceal his own bewilderments along the way.
‘Brownsville Girl’ is a sort of mirror image of ‘Isis’, the 1976 Dylan/Levy song that – not coincidentally perhaps – is the only real rival to ‘Brownsville Girl’ as the best of Dylan’s co-written songs. ‘Isis’ started out as a ‘song about marriage’ but quickly turned into a long parable about masculine identity and male bonding, before returning for conclusion to its original subject. ‘Brownsville Girl’ starts out as a seemingly casual meditation about male identity. Halfway through the song’s third verse, this matter is abruptly supplanted by the inner appeal of some anonymous female who – by the end of the song anyway – figures as a mythic muse and mother as well as a long lost lover.
The theme of lost love – treated in a manner that recalls ‘Tangled Up in Blue’ rather than ‘Isis’ – nearly takes over the remainder of the song. Only in the final verse of each of the last three of the song’s four major sections does Dylan manage to wrench his song back to its initial subject, the solitude of male heroism. But each time the repeated chorus, which divides the song into its four strophes, dissolves this re-assertion of male values in a celebration of the matrix of desire that authorizes and empowers the male ethos: the female who, ‘shining like the moon above’, will ‘show me all around the world’. ‘Isis’ is a song about a man who, seeking refuge in marriage from the burdens of his male identity, discovers that marriage itself requires him to be re-initiated into the male world. ‘Brownsville Girl’ is a song about a man who, seeking to recover and reaffirm his primal bond to other males, discovers that access to the male world is mediated by an interior paramour with whom he has all but lost connection.
Brownsville Girl
Well, there was this movie I seen one time,About a man riding ‘cross the desert and it starred Gregory Peck.He was shot down by a hungry kid trying to make a name for himself.The townspeople wanted to crush that kid down and string him up by the neck.
Well, the marshal, now he beat that kid to a bloody pulp
as the dying gunfighter lay in the sun and gasped for his last breath.
Turn him loose, let him go, let him say he outdrew me fair and square,
I want him to feel what it’s like to every moment face his death.
Well, I keep seeing this stuff and it just comes a-rolling in
And you know it blows right through me like a ball and chain.
You know I can’t believe we’ve lived so long and are still so far apart.
The memory of you keeps callin’ after me like a rollin’ train.
I can still see the day that you came to me on the painted desert
In your busted down Ford and your platform heels
I could never figure out why you chose that particular place to meet
Ah, but you were right. It was perfect as I got in behind the wheel.
Well, we drove that car all night into San Anton’
And we slept near the Alamo, your skin was so tender and soft.
Way down in Mexico you went out to find a doctor and you never came back.
I would have gone on after you but I didn’t feel like letting my head get blown off.
Well, we’re drivin’ this car and the sun is comin’ up over the Rockies,
Now I know she ain’t you but she’s here and she’s got that dark rhythm in her soul.
But I’m too over the edge and I ain’t in the mood anymore to remember the times when I was your only man
And she don’t want to remind me. She knows this car would go out of control.
Brownsville girl with your Brownsville curls,
teeth like pearls shining like the moon above
Brownsville girl, show me all around the world,
Brownsville girl, you’re my honey love.
Well, we crossed the panhandle and then we headed towards Amarillo
We pulled up where Henry Porter used to live. He owned a wreckin’ lot outside of town about a mile.
Ruby was in the backyard hanging clothes, she had her red hair tied back. She saw us come rolling up in a trail of dust.
She said, “Henry ain’t here but you can come on in, he’ll be back in a little while.”
Then she told us how times were tough and about how she was thinkin’ of bummin’ a ride back to where she started.
But ya know, she changed the subject every time money came up.
She said, “Welcome to the land of the living dead.” You could tell she was so broken-hearted.
She said, “Even the swap meets around here are getting pretty corrupt.”
“How far are y’all going?” Ruby asked us with a sigh.
“We’re going all the way ’til the wheels fall off and burn,
‘Til the sun peels the paint and the seat covers fade and the water moccasin dies.”
Ruby just smiled and said, “Ah, you know some babies never learn.”
Something about that movie though, well I just can’t get it out of my head
But I can’t remember why I was in it or what part I was supposed to play.
All I remember about it was Gregory Peck and the way people moved
And a lot of them seemed to be lookin’ my way.
Brownsville girl with your Brownsville curls,
teeth like pearls shining like the moon above
Brownsville girl, show me all around the world,
Brownsville girl, you’re my honey love.
Well, they were looking for somebody with a pompadour.
I was crossin’ the street when shots rang out.
I didn’t know whether to duck or to run, so I ran.
“We got him cornered in the churchyard,” I heard somebody shout.
Well, you saw my picture in the Corpus Christi Tribune. Underneath it, it said, “A man with no alibi.”
You went out on a limb to testify for me, you said I was with you.
Then when I saw you break down in front of the judge and cry real tears,
It was the best acting I saw anybody do.
Now I’ve always been the kind of person that doesn’t like to trespass but sometimes you just find yourself over the line.
Oh if there’s an original thought out there, I could use it right now.
You know, I feel pretty good, but that ain’t sayin’ much. I could feel a whole lot better,
If you were just here by my side to show me how.
Well, I’m standin’ in line in the rain to see a movie starring Gregory Peck,
Yeah, but you know it’s not the one that I had in mind.
He’s got a new one out now, I don’t even know what it’s about
But I’ll see him in anything so I’ll stand in line.
Brownsville girl with your Brownsville curls,
teeth like pearls shining like the moon above
Brownsville girl, show me all around the world,
Brownsville girl, you’re my honey love.
You know, it’s funny how things never turn out the way you had ’em planned.
The only thing we knew for sure about Henry Porter is that his name wasn’t Henry Porter.
And you know there was somethin’ about you baby that I liked that was always too good for this world
Just like you always said there was something about me you liked that I left behind in the French Quarter.
Strange how people who suffer together have stronger connections than people who are most content.
I don’t have any regrets, they can talk about me plenty when I’m gone.
You always said people don’t do what they believe in, they just do what’s most convenient, then they repent.
And I always said, “Hang on to me, baby, and let’s hope that the roof stays on”
There was a movie I seen one time, I think I sat through it twice.
I don’t remember who I was or where I was bound.
All I remember about it was it starred Gregory Peck, he wore a gun and he was shot in the back.
Seems like a long time ago, long before the stars were torn down.
Brownsville girl with your Brownsville curls,
teeth like pearls shining like the moon above
Brownsville girl, show me all around the world,
Brownsville girl, you’re my honey love.
Here’s a vid. Note that, very strangely, the images here relate to Tina Turner!!
Hey man, this is “Brownsville Girl” not “Brown Girl“!
Bob Dylan – “Brownsville Girl”
July 24, 2008
Posted by stupidand |
Gregory Peck, Music_ClassicRock, OTHER_CINEMA, _BOB DYLAN, _MUSIC, _POETRY, _VIDEO |
Leave a comment
Since she was discovered in 1958, Gillian Hills was seen as nothing more than a beautiful face, bearing an uncanny resemblance to Brigitte Bardot. She was indeed a real beauty, but there is much more to Gillian Hills than her kittenish good looks.
The same year Beat Girl hit theaters, Gillian appeared on the front cover of Paris Match sporting brown hair and a more subdued look- perhaps to escape the endless Bardot comparisons. 1960 also saw the release of Gillian’s first single for Barclay Records. Her sultry teasing voice worked perfectly with “Ma Premiere Cigarette.”
Among the Lollipops and Zombies covers featured on her last French EP, Gillian’s self-penned “Rien N’est Changé” is by far the strongest. It’s Gillian Hills attempting Françoise Hardy and succeeding. The track is gentle, with a distinct acoustic guitar sound and delicate vocals. Sadly, even her self-written discs sold close to nothing.
According to Gillian Hills experts, Micheline de Séraulx & Michel Feron, in 1975 Gillian decided it was time to stop making movies, and she moved to New York to work as an illustrator for various books and magazines. Her disappearance in the ’80s prompted a rumor that she had died (suicide according to some French newspapers, or burnt alive when her apartment caught fire). However, Jukebox magazine writer Jean-William Thoury discovered, some 15 years later, that she had suffered from a very long illness, but was in good health now. Also, she was no stranger to the world of music as she married Stewart Young, the manager for the Scorpions.
