I think I've mentioned it here before that I really love melodrama. My enjoyment of it has mostly been limited to US melodrama, with a smattering of Fassbinder. I'm sure I could pluck out some other memories of non-US films if pressed but the point is my focus has been primarily on the BIG classics of the US, my favorite being All that Heaven Allows. I had seen that criterion put this edition out last year and, while judging a book by its cover is something one is explicitly taught not to do... I'd guess exceptions can be made when its as sick as the cover above.

The movies starts with some poor dancer (implied prostitute) returning to The Changoo cabaret to plead with her lover to take her and their baby. He quickly dismisses her and the child and wants nothing to do with her. (Knowing nothing about this movie in advance, the inciting plot element here was pretty shocking.) Anyhow, she begs him to take her back and claims she'll abandon the baby if he'll take her back. He's sort of like, "yeah ok, I guess" (clearly not that interested). So then she promptly goes outside to do just that. Even today this is a visually shocking moment.

Alternating moments with the familial disintigration scenes we are introduced to Violeta, the up and coming dancing sensation played by a really incredibly magentic Ninón Sevilla. We get a few choice numbers throughout the film but I'm partial to a call and response number where the crowd (knowing all the words) shout "I want clams, serve me some clams!" and she dances her heart out having a blast. There is also a great one where she kind of just dances in a circle with some tiny steps (potentially due to the tight dress) kicking and smiling and really going for it. She really looks like she's having fun. 

Violeta learns of the baby abandonment and runs out into the night and immediately finds him! Which always tickles me, when they find the thing right away (spoofed in The Jerk at the end... one of my favorites jokes... "How'd you find me?" "I dont' know. First place we looked.") She is down and out a bit, gets fired by the Don of the Changoo which then epically goes out of business because the other matron leaves as well. Right before this she has a wildly suggestive song all about 'dancing'. Good stuff.

Rodolfo (baby daddy) finds Violeta on a street and wants her to be with him. He sees the baby in the corner just chillin and tries to once again do away him him. :( Then he is equally bogus to Violeta but she is saved by the other "dancers" who are on her block. They take him to night court(!), or something, and he gets thrown in jail for six years.

Visually this film is also a wonder. All dark and smoggy. It seems that most was shot at a studio in Mexico City but there are some exteriors that are really striking. Especially by the La Machina Loca club where she later is installed as a "dancer" and then an actual dancer a bit later. She takes up with the owner of this club and he seems ok! and they are happy... for a while, even getting the child baptized. 

Fast forward six years and guess who is getting out of prison? From here it goes from bogus to bleak as hell. All in all a really great film.

I generally try to get the vintage copies of books, especially if the author is not around anymore. No need to give "The Big Five" more money. A quick Biblio, Abe (I know... I know who they are owned by... but at least the booksellers are just regular folks trying to get by), & Bookshop visit can give you vintage/used options if your normal go-to is Amazon. I've even made pen pals of a sort through buying from independent sellers. All around a better experience. 

Anyhow, older paperbacks of this particular novel are pretty cost prohibitive so I ended up with the more recent New York Review of Books edition from someone on Biblio. The George Pelecanos intro to this edition is ok. Short and sweet. He understood the assignment and what makes this a worthwhile read.

That said, I'm not sure that I have too much to say about this one. There is some great dialogue.

"Holy Cats," Jack said. "Did you see this shower? One sprayer up on top,

for on the sides. Man, they must stand in there and just plain go out of their minds. 

An the control aint two handles, it's one that goes from cold to hot."

Its bleak though. Bleak throughout, but the final quarter seems to exist just to hammer home how awful life can be for some people and rich people get everything they want. I could have done without that portion completely. The first bit, in Portland and environs is great though, especially if you are at all familiar with the area. Now that I'm thinking about it (writing about it)... its kind of 3 books or novellas in one. From hustling in the pool halls to prison to domestic(?) life and its trappings... 

It's worth a read if any of that sounds good.  For a much better summary and bio on Carpenter head over to this great substack post.. 

A few years back I went with two friends to see The Heartbreak Kid at the (completely packed) Music Box in Chicago. Caring about Chicago and Chicago history, as I do, I knew who Elaine May was. The Compass Players... Nichols and May... The Birdcage... Mikey and Nicky (which I should rewatch because all my friends love it and I didn't really like it the first time... 😬) etc. I knew of her but really didn't have an understanding the level at which she operated.... which is basically just higher than everyone else, effortlessly. Chicago comedy owes much of its success to her and Nichols.

In her first outing as a director, she cast Matthau as the bumbling rich person who never had to work. This is punctuated by a great scene of confusion with a banker, displaying just how little he understands money. There are some great jokes in the first third of the movie between Matthau and his butler, including a running gag about "Carbon on the valves..." Movies should really employ running gags more.

But once Elaine May shows up, the film is elevated beyond the typical bumbling male-centric comedy (No shade... sometimes those are great). May is adorably and clumsily introduced with a spill and a Matthau speech about the hosts rug perversions. Throughout May is hilarious with her subdued demeanor ("Heavens..") and physical comedy. Alone in my living room I laughed out loud when a waiter pulled a table back and she's covered in crumbs. Precursor to Charles Grodin disgusted by Jeannie Berlin eating in Heartbreak Kid. This gag is hilariously called back later in the movie when Walter Matthau declares "She has to be vacuumed every time we eat!". 

Matthau's scheme in the second half is pretty dark but the writing and repartee soften all of this... It is pretty easy to see how the film will resolve but knowing where it is headed takes nothing away from the journey of getting there. 

Gemma gave me this book for Christmas. A slim edition of collages married with short essays & poems reflecting upon, as far as I'm concerned, scenes from a life well lived. Or, if not "well lived" definitely LIVED. And it seems thats what stands out for me. Maybe it's a Chicago traint. Most people don't live well or even live at all... (maybe its easier to not want to?) Maybe I don't even. I think at forty four I'm starting to... 

Liesurely thumbing through the pages this past week, a faint recognition grew in the recesses of my memory of these collages; I have seen them, some of them here and there, over the 20ish years I've been in Chicago. The images, the essays, feel very strongly like the fog of early 2000s Chicago to me. The pre smart phone era, the pre dead internet era... before the bans lifted all the smoke from the bars which then settled over my youth in a haze. I never knew who Tony Fitzpatrick was. Though, I think anyone from Chicago, who was looking (or who has been here by choice for 10+ years) would recognize them.

A personal trait I've been trying to reconcile as I grow older is that I'm immediately anti and uninterested regarding books given to me. Given out of context anyways. Over the years I think I've partially connected this to really just being in love with the journey of discovery that comes with loving books and words... (Oddly I really LOVE giving folks books as gifts. The dichotomy is not lost on me.)

I can claim no ownership to any books, of course, but I do feel a sense of ownership and even attach a sense of myself to books. I know others do this, it is not unique. So when I give a book to a friend, family-member, colleague, acquaintance... it is showing them something of myself. It's an easy way to show "who I am" with a wink. Where I've landed on this whole situation is... when people give me books... its sort of like "this isn't me!".... simply because I have yet to read it so how could it be? Then I have a chip on my shoulder which often colors my reaction to the book, preemptively deciding no this is not for me. NICE TRY [friend or partner or coworker]!!

In this case, pass the knife and fork, I am most happily eating a bit of crow (an apt analogy as a third of the works in the book are about birds). 

It is an easy book to read and enjoy, to pick up and open to any page and find something good. I need more books like this. 

Tony Fitzpatrick passed away on October 11th of this year. He was honest in his writing. He looked for good in people but hated assholes and let you know it. A real Chicagoan gone, joining the ranks of Algren, Turkel, Bellows, Brooks, and Dreiser... and on and on.  I only just met him but I miss him. 

A few favorite passages. 

From Winter Cardinal:

In Tokyo, public greenas and parks are for solitude and reflection; you

won't see a gaggle of assholes throwing frisbees and drinking beer. 

From Chicago Winter Rail:

I try to get out to nature more now, to shut out the noise and find what is good. 

Movie club and book club ended up being back-to-back this month. It's been tough to find time to jot some notes down in this season of so many social obligations and so many beverages.

I Hadn't seen this one in many years (maybe since it came out!). Even if I do remember it fondly... I'm not sure 16 year old Nick could appreciate the craftsmanship. 

Seeing it now, after years of nurturing a love for cinema and literature, I am truly impressed at how well crafted this beautiful movie is. Each shot is gorgeous, revealing glimpses of the plot in a methodically blunt succession. Wonderful Christmas-time movie club choice on Mikes part.