It’s been said before that access to Turner Classic Movies alone is worth the monthly cost of cable television. Frankly, I don’t know how many of my other cable channels even work, so infrequently are they accessed. If TCM didn’t work, I’d know it. My partner Keith McCullar is not such a fan, with his not so clever rejoinder ‘I don’t want to watch an old movie’ sounding even before we’ve settled on the sofa. He is, of course, a philistine, and, as the primary possessor of taste, I generally don’t pay too much attention to him.
Away as he was for a couple of days, I watched without molestation a near surfeit of TCM, including, rapture, back to back showings of A Star is Born (1937 version) and All About Eve. Both winners of lots of awards, I don’t really need to reprise much in terms of cast or story-line for either film. Or do I? For those of you that find that I do, you have doubtless stumbled on to the wrong website. Shades of Addison DeWitt; as with Bette Davis, George Sanders never looked lovelier.
Having watched both movies so often, I now give myself the pleasure of watching for other things- background action, for instance, like the crowds reaction to Norman Maine getting beaten up by Libby in the bar at Santa Anita racecourse, or bits of business like Max Fabian belching from the bicarb he’s just been given by Margo Channing.
What I also spend time looking at is set decoration. Not surprising, given my avocation, but what continues to surprise is how effective decoration is in establishing a mise-en-scène, the background, then, making the action as believable, believe me, as the dialog and its delivery. Mr. Selznick and Mr. Zanuck, your money was well spent.
What’s more, the decoration can function to either make the movie a period piece, inadvertently, or render it timeless. I don’t know who David O Selznick employed with such aplomb to accomplish both the exquisite streamlined interiors of Oliver Niles’ office as well as the wonderful Hollywood Regency interior of Norman Maine’s beach house, but the effect, over 70 years on, hardly seems dated. As well, the interior of Margo Channing’s New York townhouse, from the outsized, quilted chintz in her bedroom headboard, to the boldly carved commode beneath the Toulouse-Lautrec poster in her drawing room, still evoke the quintessence of sophistication. What else could they have drunk there but martinis? George Davis won an Oscar for creating this cocktail-drinking haven where one could picture oneself looking forward with joy to what Bette Davis promised would be a bumpy night.