Showing posts with label Pretty in Pink. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pretty in Pink. Show all posts

20 September 2009

I lied about not posting any more about "Pretty in Pink"














One more Pretty in Pink posting, although this really has nothing to do with the movie. I was very pleasantly surprised to run across one of my all-time favorite actresses, Margaret Colin, as the teacher in PIP. Why didn't she become a bigger star?

Here are my five favorite famous (or else, of course, my wife jumps to the top of any list!) brunettes -- in alphabetical order.

1. Margaret Colin (seen above as Margot Hughes, with husband Tom -- how cool was he?--, from As The World Turns in the early-to-mid 1980s)
2. Dana Delaney (in the China Beach years, although she seems to have red hair here)
3. Ava Gardner (no introduction necessary)
4. Lauren Graham (best fictional mom ever!)
5. Christine Lahti (in the Whose Life is it Anyway? days)





19 September 2009

They should've just killed off Duckie

One last Pretty in Pink posting, I promise.

As my very-soon-to-be-fourteen-year-old noted during her first viewing of PIP, "This movie's more about Duckie (Jon Cryer) than anyone else." This observation, of course, is absolutely correct, which is why the original ending the filmmakers intended and really wanted, i.e., Andie's (Molly Ringwald) and Duckie's dancing together at the prom, made perfect sense to them. Duckie's the most compelling figure in the movie -- whether it's his lipsynching and dancing to "Try a Little Tenderness", fighting that evil James Spader character in the halls of the high school, proclaiming his love for Andie flat on his back alone on her bed, or smirking at the audience near film's end. (The Andie/Duckie ending, of course, made no sense to a teen audience who wanted true love with Blane, across the great economic divide, to win out. And the audience won, as is Hollywood's way.)

But, in essence, what John Hughes faced -- and failed to reconcile -- is precisely what Shakespeare did in Romeo and Juliet (and, believe me, this is the only time John Hughes's and Shakespeare's names should appear in the same sentence!): What to do with a character who's far more interesting than your romantic leads?

Mercutio is far more exciting and dynamic than Romeo and/or Juliet could ever even dream of becoming. So, what's a playwright to do? That's right, kill him off early -- before the writer and the audience can become too infatuated with him and make a mess of the arc of the love story. So Shakespeare does just that to the benefit of his play, while Hughes doesn't get rid of the trouble and ends up needing to produce a future-Buffy-the-Vampire-Slayer (but not the one everyone knows!) out of the blue for the Duckman.

17 September 2009

So, there's this great Hannah Montana song, the chorus of which goes...

If we were a movie
you'd be the right guy
and I'd be the best friend
you'd fall in love with;
in the end, we'd be laughing
watching the sun set
fade to black
show the names
play the happy song

Now, Frank Sinatra made a career, it's been quite well argued by Phil Furia and others, by exploiting the inherent vulnerability of singing Broadway songs originally written for women. While he changed all the obvious pronouns (for the heterosexual world that is the "Great American Songbook"), the basic longing and suffering that was meant for the female characters in these Porter/Gershwin/Kern/etc. musicals, remained in the songs -- which allowed Frank to mine a level of hurt previously unheard of in the popular singing performances by men.

I call this to mind because, as much as I love to join in on the Hannah Montana song quoted above, I can't just change "guy" to "gal" and sing along. Why? Because the best "guy" friend NEVER gets the "right girl" in the movies.

Frank doesn't end up with Kathryn Grayson in Anchors Aweigh (lost to Gene Kelly) or It Happened in Brooklyn (lost to Peter Lawford). (He might get her at the end of The Kissing Bandit, but, since I've never been able to make it to the end of that movie, it doesn't count...and I don't think he's anyone's best friend in it anyway.)

To be slightly more contemporary...let's face it, the Duckies (Jon Cryer) of the world NEVER get Andie (Molly Ringwald).

So, what to do?

I sing:

If we were a movie
you'd be the right girl
I'd be the best friend
who loses out to Andrew McCarthy
(or some such bland, waspish, rich kid who,
admittedly, is not as bad as James Spader,
the blander, waspier, richer kid,
who, since then, has really put on a lot of weight,
so now he's just kinda creepy)
fade to black
show the names
play the happy song

(repeat)