The Short List: Carol Haney

On the list of musicals I don't like, The Pajama Game ranks pretty high. Almost nothing in it appeals to me and some of it, like the Once a Year number at the company picnic, seems almost too cute to stomach. I can't deny the talent and likability of John Raitt and Doris Day (even if Day seems a little half-hearted) but there's still very little here to inspire me or catch my interest.

Except Carol Haney.

She has the supporting role as Gladys Hotchkiss, a role created from two separate characters for her after impressing the director with her talents. She went on to win the Tony for Best Supporting Actress in a Musical and then reprised her role for the film (she had small parts in a few other films but this was her one major role). And thank god she did because she carries the whole damn thing and does it without missing a beat. Her incredible charisma and "playing to the rafters" style clearly caught the eye of everyone involved in the original Broadway production because she's the lead dancer and singer of every important/good number in the show/movie: Hernando's Hideaway, Steam Heat and, hell, even that Once a Year number I don't like has its moments: the moments when Carol Haney's the main dancer on screen.

She's also an effective comedian, even if her delivery style is B-I-G with a capitol every-damn-letter. But that's the thing; The Pajama Game, about pajama factory union workers trying for more pay while finding love on the job, is pretty dull storytelling that only benefits from the electric style of a Haney. In fact, in as far as it does entertain, it entertains mainly because it has some engaging numbers and those numbers are only engaging because 1) Bob Fosse choreographs them and 2) Carol Haney performs them. Had those two not been involved I don't think this would have ever made it out of previews (well, okay, it would've but it wouldn't have been the same). Sometimes the talents of a great choreographer and dancer can make a show, and this is one of those cases.

But Carol Haney did so much more. She assisted Gene Kelly with the choreography of every major film he did and went on to win three more Tony awards for her own choreography on Broadway. Sadly, Carol died at the age of 39 from pneumonia, made worse by diabetes. She was an immense talent and her one major film credit, The Pajama Game, shows her at her best. Thank goodness we have it.

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The Short List, so far, can be viewed here.

The Short List: Charles Grodin

A couple of weeks ago I did a post on supporting performances that stand out, a topic that could easily encompass most of movie history as the character actors, as they're so often known, so regularly outshine the stars in so many movies. I think the reason for that may well be that they're not the star and so, perhaps, they feel freer and looser in their portrayals, knowing they don't have to carry the movie. Whatever the reason, I decided whenever I watched or rewatched a movie or a scene of a supporting player making the most of their allotted screen time, I'd write it up to keep a running tally of such performances. While I'm keeping the official banner headline, The Short List, obviously it won't be very short at all if I keep doing this for the next ten years. And, whenever possible, I'd like to keep my choices to performances not already showered in awards and kudos, but instead choose performances overlooked, usually due to the film in which they appear not having the proper pedigree for the awards show mindset.

All this is to say that the other night I was once again reminded how talented Charles Grodin is when watching the 1976 remake of King Kong. Most people would point to Heaven Can Wait or Midnight Run, and they wouldn't be wrong for doing so, but, for me, Grodin was never better at scene stealing than he was in Kong.

Grodin plays Fred Wilson, a Petrox Oil Company suit who thinks he's on to the biggest discovery in untapped petroleum in the modern age only to discover it's all just a bunch of worthless goop. But, there is this big gorilla on the island...

We all know the story, or at least the basics of which this version is a mild variation. What's brilliant about the creation of Fred Wilson is that, unlike the Carl Denham of the 1933 and 2005 versions, he has no artistic veneer to cover up his pure, unadulterated grab for the cash. But there's more to it than just that: Grodin infuses him with an overwhelming sense of insecurity hiding inside a smug blowhard. Watching Grodin's scenes from this movie are always a pleasure because he let's Fred Wilson look so vulnerable. Seriously, his Fred Wilson gets more pies in the face than a society matron at a Three Stooges dessert buffet.

Here's the thing: Fred Wilson is proven wrong, a lot, but every time he thinks he's right he's still, despite all past experience, as giddy as a tweener at a Justin Bieber concert. And then someone shoots him down and he doesn't even attempt to hide the look of utter confusion and defeat until it's already obvious to everyone.

He'd bet everything there's oil on the island! Jack tells him no. Huh? Whaa?

There is oil, and it's going to be great! Nope, it's worthless. Huh? Whaa?

Don't worry folks, his feet are still chained! Squish.

Really, this guy fails at everything which makes him probably the most sympathetic villain a movie has ever had. Not that Fred Wilson is the villain of the movie but he's as close as it gets and Grodin pulls off the feat of playing him smug, insecure, arrogant and needy all at once. For that, Grodin makes the short list.

The Short List: The Entertainers

If I had to make a short list of supporting parts that entertain me more than everything else in the movie combined (so it's got to be really entertaining) I just may have to put Raymond Walburn at the top for Riding High. If you've never seen it, it's a Bing Crosby vehicle directed by Frank Capra on his way down Hollywood's "What have you done for me, lately" ladder. Bing's got a horse but not the money to get it into the proper races and Ray Walburn is Professor Pettigrew, a bumbling half-wit con man who's trying to help out with the cause. Problem is, he's inept. So inept he literally cons himself out of money at one point in the movie ("Bilked! By my own chicanery!"). He's amazing and should've been nominated for Best Supporting Actor but wasn't. Of course, another short-lister, George Sanders won that very year for All About Eve so no real complaints here.

Or how about Elsa Lanchester in The Big Clock? With but a few minutes of screen time she steals the whole show as the flighty, judgemental and needy painter, enlisted to identify the killer (falsely accused Ray Milland while really it's her real-life hubby, Charles Laughton).

Or Noel Coward in Bunny Lake is Missing?

Or Barry Fitzgerald in The Catered Affair?

Or Thelma Ritter in anything?

Or Bert Lahr in The Wizard of Oz?

Or Melvyn Douglas in Mr. Blandings Builds his Dream House?

Or Nina Foch in An American in Paris?

Or Glenda Farrell in Mystery of the Wax Museum?

Or Ernest Thesiger in Bride of Frankenstein?

Or Madeline Kahn in Paper Moon? Or Young Frankenstein?

And speaking of Young Frankenstein, how about Cloris Leachman, Marty Feldman and Kenneth Mars? Or, hell, Gene Hackman?

Or Gene Wilder in Bonnie and Clyde?

Or Richard Pryor in Silver Streak?

Or Dudley Moore in Foul Play?

Or Jeffrey Jones in Amadeus?

Or Elaine May in Small Time Crooks?

Oh hell, there's so many to list and so little time. Give me some more time and I could knock off the drama list just as easily. One spoiler for that one: Agnes Moorehead in The Magnificent Ambersons? Probably at the top.

Come All Without, Come All Within, You'll Not see Nothing like the Mighty Len

Regular readers of Cinema Styles have probably noticed I write about acting more than any other aspect of film. I even have an acting category on the sidebar for all my posts on it but none for directing, editing, writing, cinematography, etc. It's not that I don't love and appreciate those aspects of filmmaking but acting was my first love and it can take me in or out of a film faster than anything else. I am much more riveted by a mediocre film with a great performance than by a great film with a perfectly suitable performance. It's just how I roll with these things. And sometimes that can get in the way of a blogger's street cred. After all, we film bloggers are supposed to write about the classics, about Hawks and Hitchcock, Cagney and Stanwyck. We're supposed to serve up insightful posts about cult and camp classics, all manner of genre flicks and The Godfather. We're supposed to write about the latest big films and the discussions centered around them. We're supposed to write about the latest blockbusters and whether they're art or not. We're supposed to be academic and write about great foreign films and film structure and meaning. And without a doubt I love talking and writing about all those things. But we're not supposed to talk about The Four Seasons, written and directed by Alan Alda. That could result in a total loss of street cred. Well street cred be damned I'm talking about The Four Seasons, or more specifically, just how damn good Len Cariou is in the central role of Nick Callan. Like I said, good acting can rivet me.

Any student of the theatre knows Len Cariou. He originated the role of Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street and I was lucky enough years and years ago to see a videotaped performance of it with Cariou and Angela Lansbury. Johnny Depp will forever be associated with the role now but with all apologies to Johnny, Len is Sweeney Todd. End of story. He also originated the role of Fredrik Egerman, in another Stephen Sondheim Broadway smash, A Little Night Music. But movie fans most likely know him for either The Four Seasons or The Lady in White, and television viewers will recognize his face in an instant as he has guested on practically every successful television show of the last twenty years. But it's The Four Seasons I want to concentrate on.

The Four Seasons was Alan Alda's sophomore writing and freshman directing effort after the commercial and critical disappointment of The Seduction of Joe Tynan in 1978. The Four Seasons was considerably more successful with the public and the critics. It boasted a cast of seasoned performers (Carol Burnett, Rita Moreno, Jack Weston, Sandy Dennis) mainly going through the paces of a good natured and inspired if unchallenging relationship comedy. But then there was Len.

Len Cariou plays Nick Callan, the central figure to the plot. It is his decisions about his family and marriage that propel the plot along and give the other characters something to talk about. If directing really is 90 percent casting then Alda came up aces when he cast Cariou. Cariou carries the film on his shoulders and doesn't falter for a second.

Every performer in the film seems to have a moment of outburst. Carol Burnett in the hotel bedroom, Alan Alda in the ski lodge, Rita Moreno and Jack Weston (also in the hotel room), Bess Armstrong at the ski lodge. But not Len. Oh it may have been written that way but he doesn't take the bait. When he chews out Alda's character about invading his personal life he seethes, he tenses up, he represses. He doesn't explode. Know why? He's a damn fine actor that's why.

And then there's the way he effortlessly portrays that guy who's always got to be the macho man. You know, the older guy who was a friend of your parents and drank all his booze straight, had effortless charm and talked about that time he broke his collarbone at a frat party the night before the big game and still scored a touchdown the next day. And you can secretly see that your mother and her friends have a little bit of a crush on him. Nick Callan is that guy and dear lord does Len Cariou inhabit his spirit perfectly. It's a wonder to watch.

But Cariou does something else too. When he leaves his wife of twenty years for a younger model he makes you believe by the end of the movie that he really actually did it because he fell in love, not because his penis was getting restless. He may well have divorced her two years later but within the confines of the movie he makes you see his side, and you don't hate him for it.

Len Cariou was not nominated for either Best Actor or Best Supporting Actor for The Four Seasons. Too bad really, because it's one of the best performances of 1981. He did win a Canadian Oscar, the Etrog, for the film One Man, which I have not seen, in 1977 and has a list of theatre credits that is incredibly impressive. He has multiple Tony award nominations and finally won the Tony on his third nomination for his portrayal of Sweeney Todd. But he has no Oscar or Oscar nomination and I guess that's okay as he doesn't seem overly concerned with film acting anyway. The theatre appears to be his first love. But when he is on the screen, even in small roles like The Lady in White I sit up and take notice and by now you know why; I like good acting. There's something about a sturdy, reliable performer that's reassuring, even comforting. So even if a movie he's in doesn't have a lot to recommend it, even if everybody's in despair, every girl and boy, when Len the actor gets here, everybody's gonna jump for joy. You know the rest.