Breakfast with Pandora

Netflix Follies: "The Third Man" and "The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill"

Netflix, ye giveth and ye taketh away.

Last night we were wracking our brains trying to figure out something that everyone, including stepson, could watch on Netflix instant streaming. Nothing was working. We finally settled on "The Man with One Red Shoe," an eighties remake of "The Tall Blonde Man with One Black Shoe," but stepson went on strike and retreated to his room.

He was right. "Red Shoe," an early Tom Hanks vehicle, didn't take us anywhere, and we stopped watching after about an hour.

Photo from here. Click and see a bunch of other similar photos. Enjoy!

I am happy to report, however, that two other movies I watched by myself this week were much finer fare: "The Third Man" and "The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill."

These movies resemble each other not at all: "The Third Man" is a British film noir based in post-World War II Vienna, starring Joseph Cotten, Orson Welles, and the excellent Trevor Howard. I won't give anything away about the plot, just that an American investigates the death of his best friend, and suspense ensues. It is a great story written by novelist Graham Greene, and an absolutely breathtaking piece of art, a window to a lost world. I forget how charismatic Orson Welles was-- even in the first shot we see of him halfway through the film, he's riveting.

Everyone in "Third Man" turns in a terrific performance, including the people of Vienna, many of whom are used in speaking parts and as extras in the movie. The city itself, devastated as it was by the war, also stars as a character brought to life by the eccentric, vivid cinematography that revels in the city's shadows, textures, and crazy geometry.

Loved that there is plenty of German in the film with no subtitles. It allowed me to test my understanding of the language and feel as if I had been transported to a different place. Don't worry: all the essentials are in English.

See it.

"The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill" is on the other side of the spectrum. It is a documentary about a flock of South American parrots-- origins not exactly known-- that lives in San Francisco and forages for food on the slopes of the famous hill that is also home to the iconic Coit Tower.

"Parrots" stars a number of birds that will steal your heart, as well as Mark Bittner, the school-of-hard-knocks caretaker of the birds who steals the heart of-- well, you should watch the movie to find out.

It is stepdaughter's firm statement that she likes pictures of birds better than actual birds, but "Parrots" may be the best of both worlds. The film lavishes its attention on close-ups of these gorgeous and very charming "cherry-crowned conures," neon red and green cuties described with loving gentleness by Bittner.

If you've never been to San Francisco or Telegraph Hill, you might be surprised to see the lush, jungle-like environment within San Francisco's concrete confines that the birds inhabit and where Bittner lives like some solo ornithologist in the trackless Amazon. The area is very small, however, as the filmmaker, Judy Irving, attempts to show with numerous shots of helicopter flybys. Still, when you are with Bittner feeding the birds, it seems as if the place is a world away.

A lovely film that will lower your blood pressure, unlike "The Third Man."

Movie still from here.

This is gorgeous

Take a look at this video and tell me in the comments, honestly now, if you saw this video as a commercial on TV or on the Internet, would you think it came from a self-publisher?

 

For those who can't click on the video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hUN_3AoyMcs 

And yet it does. UK imprint JJ Books is the property of one John Jackson, the 82-year old "chairman of a solicitor's firm" (chief partner in a law firm, for us in the States), according to his publicist Jonathan Knott. 

Having available a lifetime of earnings as an attorney, plus connections and friendships, must open a lot of doors in self-publishing.

• How much did it cost to have this video made? This isn't your average YouTuber on his webcam.
• The illustrator is superbly talented. I hope she did not come cheaply. 
• The blurbs have name recognition ("Times" of London, no doubt).
• Creating the book as an "app" for the iPad must have also cost.  

I love that there are beautiful children in the video enjoying the book almost as a toy rather than just as a book. A paper book doesn't read to you, doesn't have animation, doesn't have buttons to push. This is very appealing.

To be published on February 28 of this year, "Tales for Great Grandchilren"  is a free download, and one story is included. Each additional story costs 99 cents, and there are a total of 13 stories in the collection.

John Jackson clearly has a leg up on most of us in terms of resources. Will this book, "Tales for Great Grandchildren," be a sales success? Does John Jackson, who has accomplished so much in his life already, need for it to be a sales success? What is his goal?

In self- and e-publishing the goal may not be to make a million dollars and become a famous author. It may be simply to do what you want to do.

J.A. Konrath, self-publishing superstar, says the key to making money in self- and e-publishing is to have a lot of things to buy at a small cost. He was a traditionally published author with a large back list, and he makes tons because his old books sell well online. It reminds me of that once-popular get-rich-quick scheme of taking out tiny ads in magazines that say, "Best chili recipe ever, $2.95" and your address. If you have enough different recipes in enough magazines, you will eventually get 10,000 people to send away for your recipe. and make something like $20,000 from a piece of paper.

Such an approach to e-books is not conducive to high quality literature, but to each his own.

A beloved teacher of mine who is also an acclaimed novelist once said that she could not handle the tyranny of having to write books solely for money. The income she got from writing was always a supplement to her family income; she did not produce work frequently enough for it to be a breadwinner's share.

Self- and e-publishing allows everyone-- those after the big gold strikes, and those panning a small stake upstream-- to take writing and publishing at their own speed, and to invest in marketing at whatever level is comfortable. John Jackson's beautiful marketing video may not translate into big sales, but it is what he wanted to do and he went for it. That's gorgeous stuff.

Netflix Follies: "The Card"

My uncle, a beloved person, was a theater professional in England for a long time and once introduced me to a group of British actors.

Movie still from here; nice review, too.

"I love acting," I gushed. "Why?" they asked.

"Because it's so exciting to become someone else for a little while," I said. "It takes so much passion to get it right." I was about twenty, and had acted in two college productions.

They all exchanged glances. "I shouldn't expect so," one of them said. "Yes, it's just another job, isn't it?" another said. "What do you need passion for?" a third said. "All this method acting. It isn't necessary. Just do your job."

My uncle smiled. "You see the difference between American and British actors. It's very marked, isn't it?"

I thought of that exchange when I saw "The Card," a British comedy starring Alec Guinness, on Netflix this Thanksgiving. The film was made in 1952 when Guinness, known now to most Americans as Obi-Wan Kenobi, was just starting his career. It's a rags-to-riches story of the son of a washerwoman who rises to wealth through his wits, charm, guile, and opportunism (thus the title, a "card" being a one-of-a-kind person).

Guinness is aided considerably by a trio of stunningly beautiful actresses, Valerie Hobson, Glynis Johns, and Petula Clark, the latter going on to megastardom as a pop singer.

Image: My favorite of the three actresses.

The plot is not what captivated me, but the acting. It is not a spoiler to say this comedy is armor-plated against misfortune. Guinness as Denry Machin can do no wrong; you're just waiting to see what his next triumph will be.

So the delight, for me, is in how the actors navigate their roles, injecting humanity and humor that comes not from the situation or even, much of the time, the script, but in how each of them reacts to one another.

Maybe the most important of these scenes concerns one of the less stunningly beautiful players in the drama, Denry's washerwoman mother, played by Veronica Turleigh. After Denry has made a large fortune, he buys his mother a sealskin coat, which is as luxurious, it seems, as a fur stole. Turleigh, a proud, stoic commoner who doesn't go in for her son's ridiculous financial ambitions, tries to play off her happiness at receiving the coat. Clark, as the ingenue Nellie, gushes over it, and Guinness is perfect in his disappointment when Mother masters her wordly desires and decides to put it in mothballs.

Every gesture, tone and mannerism in this scene is spot on. In less accomplished hands, the scene would have just been cheesy. I dare say, many scenes like this one have aspired to such spot-onness and failed.

I wondered how much these actors just went to work on that day they did that scene, and "just did their job." Tremendous.

So see it if you haven't cancelled your Netflicky subscription.

One other thing relating to mythology and pop culture criticism, in the Breakfast with Pandora way: I found this comedy to be quite amazing for 1952, a time in the UK when the British were still recovering from the devastation of World War II. In its optimism the movie is downright American, and in its obliteration of class differences (a defining issue of the British ethos) it just seems extremely, extremely unlikely.

The movie is set in 1911, when class differences were even more marked in the UK than they are today. The beautiful period costumes and the attitudes of the people emphasize that there is a difference between commoners and the upper class, and that Denry, as a kind of trickster god, is magically making that all go away.

Indeed, all that Denry does has that feeling of fairy tale, a Puss-in-Boots type of story, but set in pre-World War I, the unreality of it all is even more marked.

Was it that the British public just needed that type of light, optimistic, magic realist type of story at a very bleak time in their history? If so, then Miss Hobson's last line, the last line of the film, would make perfect sense.

Is there a recurrence of this type of story through British cinema? And how optimistic are other genres of British film? In America, we love resurrection and happy endings, even in drama. Was it always the same in the UK? Or was this just a moment in time?

We continue on. Pass the tea cakes, Pandora.