Devoted to "...Them Movin' Pitchers!"... and the "Feast of Filmdom"!

Memoirs of a Geezer!

Reflections and Observations -- A Bright Passage from the Fantasies of Youth 

to Illuminations of Advanced Maturity!

This Episode:    ...Devoted to "...Them Movin' Pitchers!"...  and the "Feast of Filmdom"! 

My paternal grandfather had a way of using language that, as a boy, I often found amusing.  He referred to films -- "the movies" -- as "movin' pitchers," as though he'd known a mystic who could levitate solid objects.  I'm not belittling him; his syntax was perfectly understandable, and, like many of his generation, he had only the benefit of a 5th or 6th grade education.  My nuclear

Couldn't find a photo
of my grandfather, but
he loved Westerns so
this will have to suffice!
(And it's "Hoppy"!)

family's diction, two generations removed from that of the grandfather, is perhaps a bit more sophisticated, more "media-style," so to speak.  Why?  My mother was a teacher who corrected her children's language usage constantly; our male parent had an exceptional command of English, and used arcane words the hearing or memory of which still send me to a dictionary.  (I keep several in my office!)

My mother (she's NOT
pictured above!) was an
exceptional teacher, and
she loved good movies!
She taught her children to
appreciate language and art!

The opening paragraph intended essentially to titillate the reader (probably to no avail!), the aim of this month's writing is to celebrate and pay homage to the glorious Milwaukee Film Festival, and to motion pictures in general.  In my geezerhood, I've grown terribly fond of attending good films (an excellent pastime for an aging and more cerebral population).  In fact my wife and I belong to a "Film Group," in which eight members view selected movies, enjoy dinner and drinks, and then discuss and analyze the movie viewed, sometimes "half to death"!  Some in our group are quite scholarly on the subject and try to extrapolate profound meaning, while others simply wish to enjoy the film and talk just a bit about how it affected them.  Spirited discussions always prevail!

Good films, in my humble and simplistic viewpoint, can be superbly educative, edifying and stimulating.  They can also enhance our personal dialogue, provide useful "scripting" when appropriate occasions arise.  And movies can bolster our "sense of silly," providing a kind of lexicon or manuscript from which we can summon just the right words when circumstances warrant.  For example, in the Howard Hawks film, Bringing Up Baby -- one of our all time favorites! -- reacting to Dr. Huxley's extreme excitement over receiving a needed remaining dinosaur bone, the fictitious "intercostal clavicle" -- the delivery man says in a quiet deadpan, "This guy aint got all his buttons."  It's an expression my family and I use frequently, and isn't it kinder than, for instance, "What a complete buffoon," or "That joker musta dumped his brain cells when someone thumped his head!"?

When Katherine Hepburn's character announces that she intends to marry Dr. Huxley, her aunt, wonderfully played by May Robson, states vehemently, "Susan I forbid it!...  We have lunatics enough in this family!"  (A suitable line for many of us to borrow!)  Our children can practically recite the entire Bringing Up Baby film script verbatim.  (They've acquired such wonderful taste in film...  probably from the parents!)    

Here's another great moment in filmdom.  Henry Koster's Harvey features a number of memorable lines.  One of my favorites is spoken by Veta Simmons, sister of lead character, Elwood P. Dowd.  As she prepares to have Elwood committed to a sanitarium, she says absently to the facility's general factotum, the gruff Mr. Wilson, who asks Veta why she's tramping through the garden, plucking up flowers, "...Elwood is devoted to ranunculus."  He replies, thinking that she's the intended patient, "C'mon toots.  Let's go upstairs.  You can pick posies off the wallpaper."  (Here, I'm probably invoking the "privilege of paraphrase"...  I don't have the exact script at hand!)

If ever I encounter someone who actually owes me something, I love to do my best Walter Matthau imitation and ask with mock impatience and irritation, "Alright, Mrs. Voss, where's the money?"  We have a DVD of Charade.  I've watched it several times. 

A scene from the film,
Russian Woodpecker.  

Sweetheart (she's my wife!) and I are very fond of the Milwaukee Film Festival.  We bought tickets for several of its showings, and we enjoy the basic membership that affords us discounted tickets, and an even deeper discount for early purchases.  The festival's an absolute, international feast, and truly a "chef's dish of choice" for our fine city and its cultural menu.  Today, Thursday, September 24th, is the premiere date, Opening Night!  Though we won't be attending tonight's feature, tomorrow, Friday, we'll view, Russian Woodpecker, variously described as "conspiracy thriller...  (and)...  humorous documentary."  We can't wait!

The panoply of our upcoming "film feast" will prove to be an international delight, a breathtaking world tour, with visits not only to Russia, but to Sweden, Israel, Mexico, Iran, China and beyond, even into the heads and hearts of children from around the globe through Kids Shorts:  Size Medium!  ("...Shorts" is an annual tradition for our children and grandchildren!)

I suppose its pure cliche, but film is truly a transcendent experience, a means of opening pathways to understanding and acceptance, of developing empathy, when one has the capacity to allow such thoughts to penetrate the psyche.  Like actual travel and meeting native people of other countries -- not merely hotel clerks and restaurant servers! -- the movies can give us a kind of inexpensive passage to the extraordinary diversity of human experience, endeavor and achievement.  

And so I encourage with the utmost enthusiasm readers, friends, detractors, relatives, odd passers-by...  everyone!   Go see a film, one that tells a good story and makes you think, and not a pandering, formulaic and obtuse chaos of artificial violence.  Specifically, attend at least one (or more) showings at the superb Milwaukee Film Festival.  Take in a movie with subtitles.  After even a few frames, you won't even notice you're reading translated lines of French or Swedish or Hebrew or Russian...    

Travel via the magic of the movies to distant lands and experience the remarkable lives of people you'll likely never meet in another manner or medium.  Don't mean to sermonize; my aim is merely to help spread the wealth!  And verily, I believe one would always do well to heed the words of Harvey's Veta as she admonishes her daughter:  "Don't be didactic, Myrtle Mae, it isn't becoming in young girls" (or old boys, either!).

(Special Dedication:   The perpetrator of this Blog dedicates this writing to Bill and Cathy, Peg and Tony, Will and Ann, and to Sweetheart too, of course, my favorite film scholar and extrapolator!  May you all rejoice and regale in the resplendent delights of great motion pictures for many years, many festivals and many gatherings yet to come!) 

Humbly Submitted 09-24-15 -- Joel K.