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Saturday, July 5, 2014

Review: A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (1945)

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (1945) 
Director: Elia Kazan
Starring: Peggy Ann Garner, Dorothy McGuire, James Dodd, Joan Blondell

I read Betty Smith's "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn" three summers ago, and ever since, it has been one of my favorites. I had been wanting to see the movie, but it was unavailable on Netflix until recently. For those of you not familiar with it, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn tells the story of Francie Nolan, a young girl living in Williamsburg near the turn of the century. Her coming of age is riddled with less than easy circumstances which force her to grow up fast. Her father, Johnny, is a luckless but lovable singing waiter with a weakness for alcohol whom she hero worships. Her mother, Katie, is hardworking and practical, hardened by her determination to create a better future for her own kids. Katie's sister, Sissy, is a wonderful, warm woman and a lovely aunt to Francie and her brother but is branded by a liberated sexual attitude and a carelessness that are the reasons for the multiple marriages she's got under her belt. These adults in her life, her struggles, and her own idealism sparked by a love of literature shape Francie as she transforms from a little girl to a young woman.

Despite the fact that Elia Kazan directed this, I found this film to be more corny than gritty. And to me, that was the real failure of the film. A kind of tenacity exists in the book that is not as prevalent in the movie, and when it does come across, it is very heavy handed. Granted, because it was the 1940s and the Hays Code was in effect, there were more gruesome aspects crucial to the original story that couldn't have been portrayed in this. For example, Sissy's story of marriages and miscarriages, touched on but not fully developed in the film, was, to me, one of the most heartbreaking parts in the book. Also, a horrific incident where a pervert molests Francie - her father lovingly tries to preserve her innocence to the best of his ability afterwards, a gesture that greatly demonstrated their strong bond. Of course, like I said, seeing that it was the 40s, it was not a viable possibility that Kazan could have addressed the latter, but the former could have, in my opinion, been further expanded upon.

Peggy Ann Garner won a Juvenile Oscar for her portrayal of the main character, Francie. The problem with child actors is that they usually fall into over exaggerated mannerisms - and I don't blame them for it, because after all, they are kids, and I rather fault the directors who encourage this acting as a means of buying the hearts of viewers. I didn't find Garner to be an exception above that typical standard. Francie's childhood has its good moments, but many times it was cruel and this lent her sensitivity and a maturity beyond her years, which is absent in Garner's performance. However, Garner effectively captures her idealism.

Dorothy McGuire can be very enjoyable in the right thing - for example, she is wonderful in Friendly Persuasion and she is even good in the light romantic role given to her in A Summer Place. She is fair as Katie; what I liked least was her tendency to be over theatrical, which I'm sure stems back to Kazan, and this hurt her chances at conveying the quiet resilience of the character so palpable in the book. But she is also successfully stoic and strong at other moments. James Dunn won a Best Supporting Actor Oscar as ne'er do well Johnny. His is one of the stronger performances in the film, though physically, he is never what I pictured Johnny to be: in the book he is young and handsome but Dunn seems tired, old, wrinkled next to twenty-seven year old Dorothy McGuire. Then there is Joan Blondell as Sissy. As I mentioned above, Sissy was one of my favorite things about the book and while I hail Blondell as the iconic gum snapping blonde dame of the thirties, I kind of wish she hadn't been cast in the role. Her performance is one dimensional, displaying Sissy's fun loving side but void of any of the sadness that is so touching in the book. However, in her defense, Blondell definitely suffers from the stagnant development of her character, and she might have been able to preform better had Sissy's character been better served by the script. Lastly, Lloyd Nolan in a smaller role as Officer McShane, the kind police officer who befriends the Nolan family. He was good and I really have no complaints.

Ultimately, the problem with A Tree Grows in Brooklyn is that it takes a plucky story of a girl's maturing into adulthood and forces it to become sentimental and schmaltzy. In doing so, it makes characters that in the book are so beautifully complicated seem flat and stereotypical. Really, this film can't do justice to the book - so if you haven't read that yet, my advice to you is skip the movie and read that instead.

(P.S. It's been nearly two years since I'd done a movie review on here! Here's to getting back into it.)

Saturday, April 19, 2014

My experiences at the TCM classic film festival

I just got back a few days ago from TCM's annual classic film festival. It's probably quite unnecessary for me to elaborate on what that is, but just in case, the festival is three days long (well, four, if you're lucky enough to procure passes that get you into Thursday's red carpet opener - I, unfortunately, was not) and located in Hollywood. That's three fun days of getting an up close and personal look at Hollywood legends, watching 35mm print in the gorgeous movie palaces sprinkled across Hollywood Boulevard, and waiting in very long lines alongside fellow film lovers (there's no camaraderie quite like that of waiting in line for the same thing.)

This was, indeed, my first TCM classic film festival, and I flew all the way across the country to be there. I guess I should begin by saying that this festival doesn't disappoint at all. It's exhilarating for all passionate classic film lovers. If you're wondering whether it's worth it to attend this event, even if you have to make the trip for it, I'll tell you right away: yes. Do it. You won't regret it at all. As a classic film lover, it was everything I'd dreamed of.

My only extra bit of advice is this: we purchased the matinee passes, which at $350 a piece are the second cheapest passes. They gained us entry into all screenings and Club TCM events starting before 6pm. Having not attended the festival before, and needing to purchase tickets long before the festival's schedule was released, I got the impression that anyone worth seeing would be interviewed within the exclusivity of Club TCM. So at the time, I really felt it was important to have some kind of access to Club TCM - in fact, I wanted to get the more expensive classic passes, which give you full entry to screenings and Club TCM, but they sold out before we could buy them - and that's why we settled for the matinee passes. Now, I realize that that was a waste. All celebrities are seen outside of Club TCM. While Club TCM is a nice little setup in the Roosevelt Hotel, I personally felt that one certainly wasn't missing much by opting out of the extra cost of Club TCM. If I have the opportunity to attend again, I feel the palace pass, or the cheapest pass, would be the best option. Now, since our passes didn't assure us entry into the screenings after 6pm, we had to wait in standby lines for those events, but for the most part (more on that to come later) we got into everything we wanted to see. I would even suggest that if you live in the LA area and want to attend this festival at a practical cost, don't even bother buying a pass - spend the twenty dollars for the standby tickets at what you selectively want to see. More likely than not, you'll get into everything. (But yes, the passes are pretty.)

The festival schedule is hectic - usually three or four events running at the same time at different venues (the hub of the festival is the Hollywood Roosevelt and the movies were screened at Grauman's, the Chinese multiplex next door, the Egyptian and El Capitan), leaving one forced to pick between them. Most try to run from event to event trying to catch all they can, but my dad (who accompanied me and took the majority of pictures in this article, so you can blame the bad quality on him) and I decided to prioritize the events where we would see the celebrities. We have a home theater so we weren't so compelled to attend the screenings lacking special guests, since viewing these movies on the big screen wasn't our motive. So, we spent a lot of time in between sitting down to eat and walking up and down Hollywood Boulevard, looking down at the stars like total tourists. I also stumbled upon Larry Edmund's bookshop and had a ball; I'm pretty certain I've ordered used books from them online so it was great to see the shop in person (it's a classic movie haven, by the way). However, if we do get to attend again, I do hope we'll have the chance to actually watch more movies, because we've both admitted that the grandeur of the movie palaces is something our home theater lacks.  And, there's something great about watching old movies with an audience (like when we applaud for, well, you know, dead stars, but they totally deserve it.)

Visiting Grauman's - Natalie's tiny hands & feet

Larry Edmund's bookshop. Ignore Kill Bill. 

Stars on the stage at the Montalban Theater.
On our first day, we headed over to the "Ask Robert Osborne" session which was held farther down Hollywood Boulevard than the other locations (which are all really in walking distance of one another), at the Montalban Theater. Interesting piece of trivia: the Montalban is where the Lux Radio specials were recorded, so, in other words, almost every star in Hollywood has been there. I was really looking forward to Ask Robert because Robert knew Lucy quite well (he brought her up on his own several times within the session), and I wanted to personally ask him a question about her. Plus, isn't there a thrill in getting to speak to Robert Osborne, the man we all see on TV pretty much daily? It was about four questions in, and I hadn't got called on yet but still had my hopes up, when Alex Trebek wandered onto the stage and kicked off what was a surprise tribute to Robert, who has been hosting TCM for all of its 20 years. That put an end to the questioning, but it did bring unexpected appearances. Several stars showed up to talk about their affection for Robert Osborne. The first was Eva Marie Saint, who had done an extensive interview with Robert Osborne at last year's festival. She is absolutely adorable, and as we had seated ourselves off to the right, next to several seats marked "reserved for guests", I was thrilled when an usher led her into the first seat in the row ahead of us! It was incredibly exciting to feel her presence so close, and I couldn't help myself from looking at the back of her head over and over. Diane Baker, who also worked with Hitchcock in the film Marnie, came out after that and sat in the seat in front of Eva. I got a kick out of it each time Eva leaned over to say something in Diane Baker's ear.

Alec Baldwin, who used to host the Essentials with Robert (now it's Drew Barrymore, and I guess I would have preferred to see her but, you know, it's okay) also made an appearance but didn't join us in the audience as he had to dash off to "lunch with his wife." After Alec Baldwin, who of all people would be introduced by Alex Trebek but Robert Wagner and his wife, Jill St. John.

I've mentioned it on this blog before, actually, but in case you're a new follower and don't really know, I am not a fan of Robert Wagner's. I am, however, a big fan of Natalie Wood's, and maybe I would like him better if that horrible night on the boat hadn't occurred. I have always held him somewhat responsible for her death - perhaps his negligence, but one thing's for sure, I feel quite passionately about it, so much so I wrote a persuasive essay on the topic in eighth grade. Of course, I still had to stand up and applaud with everyone else when they appeared on the stage. After they did their bit with Robert Osborne up there, the ushers led them down to the audience as they had done with Eva Marie Saint and Diane Baker. Now, in my row, there were four chairs marked "reserved", starting from the left, and I sat on the fifth chair. The usher led Robert Wagner and Jill St. John right into my row - first, Jill St. John sat on the second seat, but then the two stood up and switched seats. So there was Robert Wagner, who had first made a surprise appearance and was now sitting two empty seats away from me!

I had to turn my face away because I genuinely started laughing very hard at the ridiculousness and irony of it all - imagine, out of all the people who might end up two seats away from me!

My dad's stalkerish photos of Eva Marie Saint and Robert Wagner (note his unfortunate close proximity). 

Despite the Robert Wagner incident, the tribute to Robert Osborne was enjoyable. I only wish I had been able to ask him a question about Lucy. Oh, well.

What I really wanted to see was later that day, the screening of Blazing Saddles with an interview with no other than Mel Brooks himself. Since Christmas, I've been having a total Anne Bancroft obsession and I was really excited at the prospect of getting to see her longtime husband in person. (I wanted to see her husband, but I got stuck with the husband of another one of my favorites!) However, this screening was at 9, long past the 6 o'clock deadline of our passes, so we would have to get into the standby line for this. One of the festival employees assured us that more likely than not, we would get in: he said there were five hundred passholders in line, and about nine hundred seats in the theater. We got standby tickets #101 and #102. It seemed, mathematically, it was all going to work out in our favor. The standby line for Blazing Saddles continued to stretch across the side of the building opposite from the Hollywood Roosevelt, as we waited for over an hour. The passholders line was out of our view so we could only take the employee's word that we would probably get in. It was several minutes past 9 o'clock when the employees shot down our hopes by informing us there was no room left in Grauman's. She attempted to console us with the information that the screening of the Warren William precode Employees Entrance would be starting soon. "Have a good night!" she said. "Not anymore!" someone shouted back. I was really disappointed, as I had very much wanted to see Mel Brooks. But I had known that Blazing Saddles was probably going to be the most popular event at the festival and that our chances were slim - it wasn't until the employee outlined it for us in the numbers that I had really begun to think we were going to get in.

The beautiful interiors of the El Capitan.
The second day of the festival, we saw Maureen O'Hara at the El Capitan screening of the 1941 Best Picture winner, How Green Was my Valley. I was bowled over by the gorgeous interior of the El Capitan, the first real movie palace I'd ever been in. Then, Maureen O'Hara was wheeled out on to the stage and we all stood up and loudly applauded her. She waved her hands at us, gesturing for us to sit down, but we continued to clap for her. Seeing her made me a little teary eyed. I think she still looks lovely, and she is a sweetheart of a human being. Robert Osborne started off the interview by asking, "Now, tell us about John Ford" or something like that, and Maureen shot back, with a hint of her Irish brogue, "I thought we were going to talk about me." How could you not love her? Maureen's interview is online here, and I really recommend you watch it if you haven't already. We're so lucky to still have her. At the end of the interview, Robert Osborne told us Maureen would be at Club TCM the next day for a second chance to see her, and I thought that finally our matinee passes would come to some use, but it turned out he misspoke - she appeared in the lobby of the Hollywood Roosevelt (which was open to all festival attendees) while we were inside Club TCM anticipating her arrival. So, we missed her, but we did get to see a closeup look at her that day when her limo pulled up in front of the Hollywood Roosevelt. My dad and I just happened to be at the entrance as they assisted her into her wheelchair and led her inside. They wheeled her right past me as I heard someone tell her, "These are all your fans, wanting to see you." It was wonderful seeing her, but it still made me kind of sad.

Left: Maureen O'Hara with Robert O at El Capitan for Green Valley screening. 
Right: How close we got to her when watching her arrival at the Hollywood Roosevelt the next day.

Later that day, Kim Novak was to make an appearance at the Egyptian for the showing of Bell, Book, and Candle. Because it was to be at 6:15, we, once again, had to get into the standby line. Not wanting a repeat of the Blazing Saddles incident, we snuck out of El Capitan half an hour early to make our way to the Kim Novak standby line. We got tickets #11 and #12. The standby line for this was much shorter than Blazing Saddles, probably only fifty or so people. Jerry Lewis was going to be at The Nutty Professor at the same time, so I guess that drew away some of her crowd. We did get into this one. I wouldn't know for sure, but I figure that pretty much everyone in the standby line did. Anyways, not only did we get in, we managed to get front row seats! It was off to the left of center, but that was okay. Watching a movie from the front row can kind of give you a headache, no doubt, but we wanted those seats to get the best possible look at Kim. And we did - as she was led through the aisle on to the stage, she passed incredibly close to us. What she talked about has gotten some extra attention in the press recently (I saw a write-up about it on the Washington Post's website yesterday morning). She discussed the "elephant in the room", or her appearance at the Academy Awards. It appears that she got some "fat injections" done, and it did not exactly turn out that great. So, of course, when she appeared at the Oscars, people ripped her apart for the way she looked. At the festival, she talked quite bravely about how what happened to her was bullying, and how it must be stopped. She talked about how she had been nervous to appear at the Oscars, considering she had never won one or even been nominated for one. How she suffers from bipolar disorder and is always anxious about public appearances. In return, our audience sent her an outpouring of love, as someone shouted, "We love you Kim!" from the back of the theater. "I've got to confess, I feel at home with you," she told our audience. You can also watch her interview here, and I suggest you do. It's really important. Not only is it ridiculous for a society to expect an eighty-one year old to look the way she did in her twenties, it's even sadder to hear her talk about how much the criticism hurt her.

Kim Novak and Robert O at the Egyptian's Bell, Book, and Candle screening.

The last day of the festival was Sunday, with a far less crowded schedule than the days preceding it. We decided to make it for what we thought was going to be Maureen O'Hara's four o'clock appearance at Club TCM, and spent a little bit of the earlier part of the day in Beverly Hills. We drove down Roxbury Drive, so I could see where Lucy lived. Though her address has widely been reported as being 1000 North Roxbury Drive, the home at 1001 Roxbury looked more like the New England style, colonial home Lucy chose, so vastly different from the Spanish inspired architecture southern California is famous for. Tour buses that drove by pointed towards 1001 Roxbury. However, I read online that the new owners did massive reconstruction (hmph), so who knows for sure which side of the street she lived on. It was exciting to just kind of be in that vicinity, I guess.

When we went back to the Roosevelt Hotel, I went to the bathroom. I was washing my hands when I looked over to the left of me, where a passholder was talking to an elder lady wearing a loud outfit and a lot of jewelry. I mused silently to myself that the woman kind of looked like Margaret O'Brien. She was making appearances at the festival and I had wanted to see her at the screening of Meet Me in St. Louis, one of my favorite films, but we'd opted to see Ask Robert instead. So we had missed her. I figured that there was no way Margaret O'Brien was using the same bathroom as the rest of us, but as I dried my hands behind the two women, I heard the passholder compliment her on how she "spoke with such charisma." It hit me then: this was Margaret O'Brien! She had, after all, been at the festival for the Mickey Rooney tribute that day. I stood behind them for about a minute, a little smile on my face, completely starstruck by having "run into" Margaret O'Brien in the restroom of the Hollywood Roosevelt! My dad was waiting outside for me and I told him of the incident. We stood there, waiting, until she came out and passed by us, and I pointed her out to my dad. I saw pictures of her at the event and later confirmed that that had, indeed, been her. I really wish I had said something, but I couldn't even think of what to say. What an incredibly unique experience, though! And I love that she's sporting a nose piercing these days (I did a double take on that).

At  the Hollywood Museum.
After missing Maureen O'Hara that day, we went to the Hollywood Museum, where there was about half an hour left before closing. The two best things about this museum were seeing Lucy's Emmys and the Max Factor "For Redheads Only" room, which is basically a shrine to Lucy with a little bit of Rita Hayworth here and there. As we were visiting family for dinner, we didn't have time to stick around for the festival's evening events. We stayed one more day in Hollywood, in which we took the Paramount Tour. It was great to see Lucy's dressing room and the park in Paramount named after her, but I was really upset that the tour guide told us exaggerations or misinformation (I totally picked out the ones about Lucy, and it made me question everything else she said). We also visited Universal, which my dad wanted to see. I don't really care for rides and the famous studio tram tour puts a lot of focus on more recent movies and tv shows, though, of course, it was great to see the Psycho House.

This was my second visit to California - I had been there once, about a decade ago, before I was a classic film fan. I love it out there, and am really missing it a lot now that I'm back home. There were also some things we didn't get to see that I wish we had time for, like the UCLA and Margaret Herrick archives. I guess it's always good to leave something for next time, though. The only thing that could keep me from visiting the film festival again next year is the timing. See, I was very lucky this year because the dates coincided with my spring break, so I only had to miss one day of school. Because the major audience for this film festival are adults who don't have spring break, TCM doesn't necessarily try to arrange the festival to align with spring break. I've got my fingers crossed that next year I'll be lucky again, because I had an absolutely wonderful time and I would love to go again.

Monday, January 6, 2014

Fashion in film: The Graduate

As of the moment, I've been going through a major Anne Bancroft obsession (expect a long winded post on this soon). So, I downloaded The Graduate (1967), which has been a favorite of mine for a couple of years, for a rewatching. I thought I would write a little blog on something that stuck out to me this time I watched: the fashion.

Mike Nichols put effort into nearly every meticulous detail of The Graduate (1967), from his innovative editing (who can forget the incredible cut of Dustin Hoffman jumping onto his raft and landing, instead, on a naked Anne Bancroft) to the sympathetic Simon & Garfunkel soundtrack ("hello darkness, my old friend.") Just as much effort is put into the selection of wardrobe in The Graduate. Anne Bancroft and Katharine Ross don't just wear pretty clothes - their clothes are a reflection of their sentiments.

Consistently throughout the movie, Mrs. Robinson wears some kind of an animal print. Nowadays, the media refers to women who date men their junior as "cougars", and Mrs. Robinson is perhaps the genesis of this woman: she was one before the term was coined. Mrs. Robinson was outfitted in animal print to create the effect of a carnivorous animal seeking to pounce on her prey (Benjamin). In fact, the first shot of Mrs. Robinson is in the Braddocks' crowded living room. As scores of party guests clamor around Benjamin - to the point of his obvious discomfort - and congratulate him on his recent graduation from college, Mrs. Robinson remains lounging in a chair. Smoking her cigarette, she eyes Benjamin from a distance but does not yet approach him.

In this opening scene, Mrs. Robinson wears a shift style cocktail dress covered in black lace. The lace is reminiscent of lingerie and underneath is a zebra print. This outfit, the first she wears in the whole film, really tells us a lot about Mrs. Robinson that we will learn later: her predatory nature and her sensuality. 

After Ben decides to take her up on her offer ("I am sexually available to you, Benjamin"), Mrs. Robinson shows up at the infamous Taft Hotel in a large cheetah print coat. And both times we see Mrs. Robinson in her slip, it is once again an animal print. When Ben comes to the house to pick up Elaine for their date, Mrs. Robinson sits by the bar, angry, smoking, covered in an animal print blanket. Even at Elaine's wedding, she sports a suit trimmed with her signature print and a matching hat.

Anne Bancroft is brilliant as Mrs. Robinson because of her multidimensional portrayal: Anne plays her not as a tawdry seductress but rather, beneath her cool veneer, we find a very tragic middle aged housewife who after becoming pregnant in college was denied the opportunity to follow her dreams. (In an interview she gave in 2000, Anne said that she imagined that Mrs. Robinson had perhaps been a great artist.) The animal print, like a coat of armor, is a physical representation of her cunning exterior. Only when she is stripped of it, we are exposed to the vulnerability she hides inside. This is depicted beautifully by Anne in the scene where Dustin Hoffman attempts to make pillow talk - they are in bed and so she is naked. "What was your major subject in college?" he asks her. "Art," she says with sad eyes, expressing more there than most actors can in a whole monologue.

Elaine Robinson's wardrobe is far more conservative than her mother's. While Mrs. Robinson opts for clothes that are sexy or show off her legs, we often see college coed Elaine in turtlenecks, sweaters, and jackets. The pastel pink dress that Elaine wears on her first date with Ben gives way to her virginal, demure personality. The contrast between the two wardrobes is a tangible tribute to the clash between mother and daughter.

The distinctive wardrobe elements of The Graduate are yet another detail that adds to this film being the masterpiece that it is. While many movies have beautiful wardrobes, few films use clothes to their advantage as well as The Graduate does.

(PS: Follow me on twitter and you get a cookie.)

Thursday, January 2, 2014


New Year's Resolution? I'm going to try - real hard - to get back to blogging this year. It's not that I've lost any love for old Hollywood (in fact, I'd like to think that more so in the last year I ventured out of my comfort zone in terms of films), it really is my lack of time. My log is filled with drafts and drafts and drafts; uncompleted thoughts, posts I really wanted to finish, but I am going to take this start of 2014 as an opportunity to get back on the blogging train. And, I'd like to thank you loyal followers (all 131 of you!) for sticking around this blog even though I've very nearly abandoned it. My posting became sparse in the fall of 2012, but in 2013 I gained about thirty followers even though I wrote only five measly blogs - I really, really appreciate all your follows. I also want to say that even though I was terribly lazy about commenting last year, I take a quick glance at my blogger dashboard every day to read the fantastic things that you all are writing.

I'll see you all again soon - I mean it - with an actual post. 

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Happy birthday to the Lucy I love

The sun never sets on Lucille Ball. All over this worried world tonight, nations of untold million are watching reruns they also watched the first time around. Joy requires no translation. God wanted the world to laugh, and he invented you. Many are called, but you were chosen. All of the funny hats, the baggy pants, the mustaches and the wigs, and the pratfalls and the blacked out teeth - they didn't fool us one minute. We saw through all the disguises, and what we found inside is more than we deserve. - Sammy Davis, Jr

Though I have been doing a less than decent job of it lately, I have, actually, been keeping this blog for two full years now. And in this time we've spent together, I think I've made it clear on numerous occasions just how much I love Lucille Ball. Hell, I even wrote a letter to her last fall. She's not just my favorite actress, she's my favorite person and one of my biggest inspirations.

So, on the occasion of her one hundred and second birthday, I don't really know what I could tell you about her that I haven't already said. Or how I could thank her in some new, special way for all she's given me - laughter and otherwise. Thus, this isn't going to be some incredibly long or wonderful post that I'm particularly proud of. But I hope it gets the message across.

People fall in love with Lucy Ricardo. Lucille Ball wasn't much like Lucy Ricardo at all, and this comes as a disappointment to some. I love Lucy Ricardo as much as the next person, but it's Lucille Ball I'm enamored with. I hear a lot about the tragic lives of the Marilyn Monroes, their sometimes eccentric behavior excused by the ordeals inflicted upon them. Lucille Ball suffered, in many ways, just as much and was never given that pass or exemption for her emotions. Perhaps it was because Lucy had a persistence in her to not fall into patches of vulnerability. And following her divorce from Desi, she built a shield of armor around herself.

I've said this before, but I'll say it again: the piece of film that I feel displays the true, human Lucy is not I Love Lucy or any of the television shows that followed it; it's not any of her movie work. It's her home movies. Though she loved her fans and gave them more due respect than, perhaps, almost any other star (except maybe Joan Crawford), stardom always seemed to make her a bit uncomfortable. Robert Osborne became friends with her in the 1960s and once shared an anecdote that I feel is very telling. Around the time of her divorce from Desi, she was an emotional wreck, and needed to get away from their home and the memories that haunted her there. So she would come to Osborne's house and lie on his couch for hours and sob. From his apartment, you could see the lights of Los Angeles twinkling below, and Osborne made a comment to her that he hoped would raise her spirits. "It's a wonderful feeling to know that every one of those lights out there, you just have to say the word 'Lucy' - you don't even have to say the last name, and they know it's you," he told her. But this frightened her. She said in response, "Oh God, don't say something like that! That's terrifying."

In the home movies, she is in her element. Most of them were shot by Desi, to whom she revealed herself to more than anyone else. Lucie Arnaz said in later years: "He knew her in a way that I don't think anyone else ever could." And that's apparent in the clips. Though she herself has attested to being happiest when she was working, the home movies show a side to her that even her best work (aka I Love Lucy) couldn't reveal. Her playfulness, her cuddling with her dogs and her cats, her quietness, her fears, naked and on display. She was an incredibly complex woman. But perhaps more than anything, the home movies shows all these facets in a raw light.

And that's the Lucy I love, the Lucy I look to each day for inspiration.

I'm not really sure what else to say. She means so very much to me, and I don't think, at this point, even words could express that. I'm not being sappy. It's the truth. I love you, Lucy. What's one hundred and two years? She's timeless.