Hopscotch, 1980

The other night I watched this movie, Hopscotch, 1980, starring Walter Matthau, Glenda Jackson, Ned Beatty, and Sam Waterston, but there are other recognizable characters in the film, like Herbert Lom, .  I loved it.  It opens in Munich in the heart of Oktoberfest.  The plot  

I initially linked to Wikipedia's summary of the plot, but after a brief search, I found Roger Ebert's review (of Gene Siskel & Roger Ebert's fame, "At the Movies"), which I think is much better.  

They, on the other hand, want to kill him. They are the CIA. Matthau plays a veteran field operative who breaks up a Soviet operation in Munich but fails to arrest the head of the KGB when he has him in the palm of his hand. Matthau's called back to Washington, where a new man (Ned Beatty) has taken over control of the department. Beatty is a veteran of the CIA's clandestine "dirty tricks" operation, and the movie hints that he was the guy behind sending the poisoned cigars to Castro, among other dumb stunts.

Anyway, Beatty yanks Matthau out of the field and assigns him to the filing department. Matthau doesn't like that. He destroys his own files, walks out of the agency, flies to Austria, and deliberately leads the CIA to believe that he has decided to cooperate with the Soviets. Then he has a rendezvous with an old love (Glenda Jackson), holes up in her chateau, and starts writing his memoirs. They include detailed revelations about CIA activities, and he mails each chapter to the world's leading spy agencies.

Gary Arnold of the Washington Post doesn't do a terrible job either.  

But what I loved about the movie was the luxurious pacing, colors, music, and settings for all the different scenes, starting with the Oktoberfest scene in Munich.  It was absolutely luxurious by today's standards.  I mean it would be a great film for anyone who has never been to Munich's Oktoberfest to actually see what one looks like and the kinds of activities done there besides consuming beer.  I loved it.   

 

From Mirage (1965) to Nanny and the Professor (1970)

Following the movie, Father Was A Fullback, 1949, starring Fred McMurray and Maureen O’Hara, the 1965 movie, Mirage, came on.  I’d never seen it before.  And what struck me were the number of stars from that era, starting with Gregory Peck, Diane Baker, with music by Qunicy Jones, Michael Jackson’s old producer.  I was delighted to see Walter Matthau.  God, I loved watching him on the screen growing up co-starring with Jack Lemon.  And there was George Kennedy, playing a hitman, maybe the best role I’d ever seen him in.  He’s a big boy.  

The editing of the film was interesting, the flashbacks that made up Peck's fragmented memory collecting in an effort to piece together a whole picture.  It was quite good.  Scenes from 1960s New York was also interesting for it still showed much of the midcentury architecture that made so many of the large cities of the U.S. interesting.   

At the 59:45 mark, Peck and Baker, running from a murder scene, find a child home alone waving the two of them into her apartment to abscond from the police.  That child actress is Eileen Baral, who co-starred in the 1970s sitcom, The Nanny and the Professor, which I watched and liked quite well as a kid and a show that I have completely forgotten about since until tonight after seeing her in Mirage with Gregory Peck. 

Wikipedia explains that 

The series starred Juliet Mills as Nanny Phoebe Figalilly, Richard Long as Professor Harold Everett, and in season 3 Elsa Lanchester in the recurring role of Aunt Henrietta. Figalilly was housekeeper for Professor Everett and nanny to his three children: Hal, the intellectual tinkerer, played by David Doremus; Butch, the middle child, played by Trent Lehman; and Prudence, the youngest, played by Kim Richards.^[2]

What I remember the most from that series was the little girl's name, Prudence.  But it looks like Eileen Baral played only a minor recurring role and not as a regular on the show.  Her character's name was Francine Fowler.  

TIGERS RESCUED DETROIT, 1968

 

Not always easy to give time up for a documentary, but I liked this one, mostly just to see footage of Denny McLain pitching.  The documentary was referenced in this article.  In 1968, he went 31-6 and was the only pitcher since 1934 [a reference to Dizzy Dean of the Cardinals] to win 30 games in a season.  As stellar a season 1968 was for McLain, he lost 2 games in the '68 World Series to none other than Bob Gibson, 22-9 that year with a cool ERA of 1.12.  Talk about dominance.  Whenever I read that Gibson and the Cardinals were coming to LA to play the Dodgers, it didn't matter which pitcher Alston put up against him--Drysdale or Sutton or Osteen--Gibson's dominance never failed to cause me dread.  It's not like I ever saw televised games of the Tigers; it was more that I tracked McLain and the Tigers in the LA Times and the Herald Examiner.  At school, the magazine we seized in the library and shelled out $.75 for at liquor stores was Sports Illustrated.  On Denver road trips, I often paired SI with Mad Magazine for the 1,000-mile journey.  Loved Sports Illustrated; used to do their crossword puzzles.  Anyway, in 1968, McLain was this adolescent's hero.  

Didn't hurt to hear in the documentary some of my other favorite names growing up either, guys like Mickey Lolich, Norm Cash, and Al Kaline along with Willie Horton, whose slugging percentage ranked second in the American League behind Frank Howard's.  Where McLain went 31-6 that year, Lolich, no slouch himself, went 17-9 with a 3.19 ERA.  

I recall Dick McAuliffe too, who "tied a Major League record by going the entire 1968 season without grounding into a double play."  Anyway, thought you might enjoy the documentary.  

Audrey & Garrett on Willow Drive, Glendale, CA

 

This is certainly not the best picture I have, or maybe any member of the family has, of Audrey and Garrett's beautiful Spanish style Moorish home at 1726 Willow Drive in Glendale.  Gary passed in September 1985 at age 82; a year later, Audrey passed in April 1986 at age 78.  Their home was sold a year later in 1987.  I'd left UPS in 1986 and returned to school, starting at PCC.  It is funny about life.  Once you're out of a town or out of a circle of people, people forget about you.  But once you're in a new town, plant yourself into a new circle of folks, people want to start up with you, even start a life with you.  It is interesting. 

I wanted to write something about Audrey and Gary and their gorgeous home in Glendale, and how each was a gracious host to my dad, mom, and siblings.  

So many things to love about Audrey & Gary's home on Willow.  One, there was a basketball hoop with backboard nailed to a telephone pole at the north end of her street, and Tom, Joe, and I would regularly go down to it and shoot hoops.  Another was Audrey's basement.  It was the only basement I knew until one year while in Denver we visited our Aunt Geraldine on Dahlia Street.  She had a basement.  But Audrey & Gary's was the first one that I'd known.  Or maybe not.  The Solana Beach beach house also had a basement with a shower where we'd shower each time we walked home from the beach and sand.  Besides the basement and the end-of-street hoop, we also played in the park behind Audrey's home, called Glorietta Tennis Park. 

I can't recall what Audrey's favorite drink was, but I believe that Gary's drink was gin and tonic.  But one indelible memory at Audrey's gorgeous home was that how she prepared a halibut dinner for everybody.  I will never forget the heavenly smell of baked halibut.  Halibut was my mom's favorite fish, and I found out why.  It was delicious.  With the tartar sauce, it was pure refinement at a young age.  

This was inspired by a post that my brother, Joe, put up on Facebook.  A question came up about our cousin, Dorothy, who was a beauty queen.  Here is a picture of her from 1936: 

One surprising response came from Larry Cusack, a cousin of ours.  He wrote 

Dorthey Mulligan was my Mother. John, Audrey, Bill, (Patricia's dad) Jim and Joe were her siblings. Margret and John Mulligan were her parents. She was the Queen of the Santa Fe Railroad float in the Rose Parade sometime during the middle 30's. All four of the brothers served in WWII. Bill got stuck in the Aleutians. John served on an oil tanker in the So. Pacific. Joe saw combat in the Philippines. While stationed in Kansas, Jim was hit by a bus coming out of a bar. He spent the duration of the war in traction and rehab. My Grand Mother said he was the only one she didn't have to worry about. She knew where he was and that he was being taken care of. 

I love this photo of Audrey and Dorothy, 1932:  

From immediate family members on November 4, 2020, I solicited their affectionate memories of Audrey and Gary's place on Willow.  Dan replied that very afternoon:

A few of my memories are:  The huge trees in the front and back yard that provided so much shade.  The one in front was the Christmas pine like the ones on Christmas Tree Lane in Altadena.  The one in the backyard was an avocado, I believe.  The old garage.

Watching baseball games, because that is what Gary liked to watch.  The layout of the "spanish style" house.  The steps on their back porch, which was how we usually entered their house.  Saying "hi" to Joe, whenever he was around.  Gathering with the Mulligan families - David, Patti, Larry and his 1st wife Judy, Danny and his Amber (? not sure), Dorothy and Clyde, Bill and Margaret.  Listening to Dad, Audrey and Gary (aka Gae Gae) chatter on about nothing of interest to us kids.  Dad and Audrey really seem to be best friends of all his cousins.  She was the easiest to engage in good conversation.  That is about all I can remember for now.  Dan 

Dan nailed a lot of the great memories of Audrey & Gary's home and their house.  One memory I will never forget, in part because Mom put such a positive stamp on it, was when Audrey placed a score of Van de Kamp's halibut fillets in the oven and the smell of battered halibut fillets infused her entire home with domestic comfort.  The idea of fish and tartar sauce, maybe chips, was one memory seared in my mind indelibly.  To this day, the associated comfort of her home was punctuated by the slow-cooked fragrance of baked fish without any unpleasant aroma.  

Mary replied shortly thereafter:

Yes, I do.  I was just thinking about them the other day. . . .  Thanks, this is a real treasure.  Mary. 

But it was by phone that Mary shared the details of her years at Audrey's.  

I recall the koi pond in the northeast corner of Audrey's backyard.  Audrey bought me 3 multi-colored, polka dot dresses when I was 12. Oh, and she bought me shiny black dress shoes. She poured on the blessings.  You know I had to go to church then.

One thing, among many things, that I liked about Gary was that he watched TV frequently in his den, where he kept TV trays to eat on while watching a ball game or a fight.  

In his den, he had a painting of wild horses running in a storm.  I don't know the name of the print or who painted it, which has made finding it online difficult.  The painting gave me such comfort.  

Gary had a recliner in the den in the southwest corner of that room.  He let me sit in it, while he sat on the love seat on the right side of the room.  I will never forget watching the Final Four of the NCAA Tournament game with Louisville's Jim Price, the highest-scoring guard on the team, where they played and lost to UCLA, 96-77.  I loved Louisville because of Jim Price.  Denny Crum, their head coach, had a good name, too, back then.  I'd forgotten that Wes Unseld, former Baltimore Bullets player, played his college ball at Louisville.  

The other thing that I loved about Audrey's place was the Formica bar top that folded down from the wall with small inlaid shelves.  On those shelves, she had tiny porcelain animal figurines, like turtledoves, playful cats with long, curling tails, and so forth.  Always nice to see someone add beauty wherever.  And who can forget her exclusive alcove with desk?  Wonderful.  

Griffin and Phoenix, 1976

There was a 1976 movie that I saw probably that same year on television that had a huge impact on me.  

The movie is called Griffin and Phoenix, and it is a love story between two strangers, who both have cancer and only about a year to live.  It is a tear-jerker, for sure.  The acting is excellent with Peter Falk and Jill Clayburgh, an actress whom I liked a lot in the 70s, a star whose gentle articulate style could command any scene.  It's a romantic comedy, but, boy, aren't there some heartbreaking scenes of the two breaking up, fighting, and reconvening.  It's exhausting and desperate.  She has leukemia, and Griffin has an inoperable form of melanoma.  They both smoked, so the movie sends that message but not flamboyantly.  When each of them finds out that the other has cancer, they're both resigned to die instead of finding out more about cancer treatments.  So the context of their love is forged by each one's pending death.  To pack as much thrill in his shortened life as possible, Griffin spontaneously plans daring events to get more life into his hours.  They sneak into a movie theater and get caught, but run out before the management can reprimand them.  Then while at an amusement park, Phoenix, or Sarah, sees Griffin from afar, hand writes a notes in all capital letters, and gets the note to Griffin via a couple of young blonde school boys.  Griffin opens the note to see the words, "DID YOU SNEAK IN HERE TOO?"  Sarah is besides herself with the combined grief.  Her condition worsens and she is hospitalized and succumbs to her illness.  The next scene is of Griffin visiting her grave site.  On her gravestone is written in all capital letters, a personal note to Griffin, "P.S. HI, GRIFFIN.  THOUGHT YOU'D PROBABLY DROP BY," revealing what each meant to the other in their short-lived relationship.  Griffin meanders back to his parked car, a Chevrolet Biscayne, on the boulevard that frames the cemetery to find that it has a flat.  Slightly exacerbated, he lumbers to the trunk to extract the tire iron, jack, and spare, when he suffers another bout of crippling pain.  And this bout, at this time crushes his spirit.  He recovers and begins to smash the windows on his own car with the jack and pounded several dents into the hood of his car.  Unquenched, he looks up to see the cars parked in front of him and begins to make a violent statement by smashing the windows of those cars too.  We get it.  He's grieving for himself and for Sarah in a seemingly heartless, self-centered world.   Both are 34 years old, so they have age on their sides.  Though they're in a relationship and even live together at one point, they each have their own pain that neither sees.  We see it.  He finally gets the kite up by exceeding previously limitations from the pain set free a bit by his love for Sarah.  I mention this film, in part, due to the ending scene where Griffin smashes car windows parked along the curb of a busy street.  The ending is of a cigar-smoking handyman in white overalls painting over romantic graffiti on a very tall water tower, where Griffin had painted a heart with an arrow through it with the words, "GRIFFIN LOVES PHOENIX," inside the heart.  The cutesy ending seemed to concede death to love, conflicting with the drama of their battle for love and life.

Clayburgh was married to David Rabe, an American playwright and screenwriter responsible for John Grisham's 1993 movie, The Firm, starring Tom Cruise, Gene Hackman, and Jeanne Tripplehorn.  So Rabe was no small-player in the arts.  Good for him; good for her.  

I shouldn't be too surprised by Peter Falk appearing in films with morose themes.  Along with Gena Rowland, he co-starred in the 1974 film, A Woman Under the Influence, directed by John Cassavetes, one of my all-time favorite actors.  

Mom Loved Geraniums

Mom loved geraniums.  She had planted a row of them in a ground-level planter on the eastside of the backyard on Elda. They are perennials, low-maintenance, durable, and beautiful.  I wasn't much of a fan of these plants.  I didn't like the velvety leaves, made so by the fine cilia on them.  In my young mind, the flower seemed a bit lackluster.  Mom may have liked them because they were (and are) popular in Denver.

Western Musical Motifs Up On the Plains

I do love the songs played on Denver's public radio station, 88.1. This song, "The Ludlows" from The Legends of the Fall is beautiful.  Though the song is beautiful I must admit I did not like the movie despite its very competent cast. I found the episode where the brother sleeps with his brother's wife horrible.  But the soundtrack to the movie was good as is evidenced here by this song.