The Filmatelist

The Curious Case of "Bringing Up Baby"

2012-01-09T12:10:00.000-08:00

Thanks to Hell On Frisco Bay for letting me guest blog on the upcoming PFA Howard Hawks retrospective and on the wonderful Bringing Up Baby (Hawks, 1938) in particular.

Here are a couple different Baby posters, both with the Hepburn FDC (Scott #4461) along with the Grant stamp (Scott #3692) and each with a different international stamp--a snow leopard from Afghanistan (c.1985) and a Zanzibar leopard from Tanzania (c.1984).

It's interesting that Grant looks like Clark Kent--though in a female's robe--in one of the poster's illustration, but in the opposite one, he's rendered like his more debonair self and nothing like how he appears in the film.

The back of the cards have Grant's FDC on one, and the FDC of the screenwriting stamp of the American Filmmaking series (Scott #3772a) on the other, with Grant piggybacking on that postmark. There's also an FDC of the Connecticut stamp (Scott #3702) from the Greetings from America series, the oldest of all the FDCs depicted here. Note also that the home Post Office for the Hepburn stamp is in Old Saybrook, CT, where Hepburn was raised and the state where the film takes place.

The Man in the Moon

2012-01-01T16:56:00.001-08:00

While I may be a film archivist by trade and by training, I was a film lover far earlier, so I'm torn by Martin Scorsese's new labor of love Hugo (2011). For while I appreciate the passion for film it engenders, its embracing of the medium in its earliest days, and its position on resurrecting and preserving the past for future generations to admire and adore, it finds its way to this magical reenactment by way of high tedium. For Hugo the orphan waif is the least interesting thing about Hugo the movie, and the mystery that unfolds about his past and the way his fate intersects with Georges Melies is not nearly as enchanting or engrossing as it needs to be to justify the wait. Call him Oliver Listless.

I think Scorsese has always had this problem with period films. The Age of Innocence goes beyond conveying oppressive social mores and is itself suffocating amidst unimpeachable production values. Gangs of New York is all posturing until the point when the feuding tribes get overwhelmed by the larger sweep of history, a tantalizing promise of something grander that goes largely unfulfilled (compare this with Ron Shelton's lean, underappreciated Dark Blue ). New York New York is insufferable because we're on a journey with a protagonist who constantly offends but never intrigues.

In each, the tone is just slightly off enough that the experience is never full immersive the way his best films are. Scorsese's style is never invisible, for Taxi Driver or Raging Bull are special because of his unique perspective and directorial flourishes. But it always feels organic to the temperament of the narrative, setting or characters. No one will argue that GoodFellas is a short or economical film, but it's got blood in its veins and a pulse that propels you forward on pure energy, style, and a perverse combination of warmth and anxiety. But like the gadgets and gears that Hugo obssesses over, Hugo is a clockwork orange--hopelessly trying to resemble something sweet and fleshy, but all empty (and poorly-calibrated) mechanics inside.

I will admit, though, that if the film does ignite renewed interest in early (pre-Griffith) cinema, that's always a good thing. Georges Melies understood the magical quality of cinema that had less to do with storytelling and more with showmanship. Camera movement, continuity, all the things we associate with cinematic "language" may have developed later, but he was never afraid to be as whimsical and fantastical as his imagination (and resources) allowed. And these moments of the artist at play are the best of the film, infusing real magic into the proceedings, because it's only at this point do we finally believe in what Scorsese is selling--not all the phoney-baloney 3D city-of-light trappings that proceed it (again, for a more luminous demonstration of the magic of Paris, just revisit Woody Allen's latest achievement, which finds that elusive balance of a grounded flight-of-fancy that such an amazing city deserves).

This French first day cover I own also represents the first filmmaker to ever get a postage stamp anywhere in the world (I'm not counting Edison or Will Rogers, who did get USPS issues pre-1961). The stamp itself depicts not only the legendary pioneer, but footage of the cannon that our intrepid lunar explorers use to reach their destination in the seminal Le Voyage dans la Lune (1902). But what everyone best remembers from the film is The Man in the Moon, irritated by the capsule that blinds one eye. Even a century later, it's still the most iconic cinematic image of that celestial body. The first time I remember hearing about the Man in the Moon was the nursery rhyme

"The man in the moon came down too soon,
and asked his way to Norwich.
He went by the south and burnt his mouth
By supping on cold plum porridge."

Little did I know that decades later, my love of film and the need to preserve it would take me to Norwich, but the image of the man irritated at his encounter with earthlings still lingered. In Scorsese's film, Melies (played by Ben Kingsley, the film's best performance) benefits by reconnecting with the real world. A new lease on life is possible once he lets other people in, and allows the past that haunts him to find its proper place, moving forward with his life instead of being crippled by grief or self-pity at past failures. And his legacy is reaffirmed as a result.

But this New Year's, I envy that Man in the Moon, so distant from human contact. For my failures are present and immediate, and my legacy far more dubious. And while the Man is usually perceived as observing remotely, separate and isolated, he still is the Moon and his orbital pull still affects the tides, despite his best efforts. The 1st is often a time for resolutions and the promise of renewal, and as far as new beginnings go, I've never faced so many or of such gravity as I do now. For me, 2012 will be about looking back (with nostalgia and regret) but still trying to move forward, step by step. Even if the destination feels as far away as the moon. And as lonely.

A View from the Bridge

2011-12-24T05:08:00.001-08:00

A holiday standard now, Frank Capra’s It’s a Wonderful Life (1946) is a film that’s easy to take for granted and even easier to underestimate. The idyllic small town life of Bedford Falls, the overly-cutesy courtship of George and Mary, the knee-jerk sentimentalism about human nature are what we’d come to expect from Capra. And while there are charming moments or marvelous little grace notes, it’s undeniable that he lays it on a bit thick, especially with Clarence’s running commentary.

But Jimmy Stewart may be America’s greatest actor, and Life is a film on the cusp of his career, since it revels in his effortless folksy charm, often parodied but never less-than-believable, but it also anticipates the darker Stewart who’d flourish in the 1950’s—the Stewart with disturbing pathologies (the Hitchcock films) or with the raw nerves of obsessive behavior (the brilliant Anthony Mann westerns). For it’s in the last half hour that Life really takes wing, with a fantasy element that submerges itself into unadulterated nightmare.

Much of Pottersville might seem pretty tame to us now. And I’ve known more than my fair share of librarians who laugh at Mary’s horrible fate without George (though it’s hard to imagine Donna Reed not ever landing another beau). But to have your world turned upside down in an instant, to have every memory and place and association called into question, to have your entire reality thoroughly upended (especially those things that you'd grown to love and cherish)—I can only imagine how horrible it must be. And Stewart sells it thoroughly. It's not a film I revisit often, but when I do, I am still surprised by the darkness at its center.

There are no shortage of Christmas stamps available, so when the Stewart release came out (Scott #4197), I tried to select some that had a very traditional feel to them and which matched the color scheme of the one-sheet pictured.

Angel (1965 – Scott #1276)
Virgin Mother (1972 – Scott #1471)
Poinsettia (1985 – Scott #2166)

As for the reverse side, I figured throwing some more Christmas stamps in would be fun, since I needed to add the Barrymores (Scott #2012; Lionel plays Mr. Potter) anyway.

Sleigh (1983 - Scott #1900)
Ornament (1987 – Scott #2368)
American Holly (1997 – Scott #3177)

This is in addition to the Tiomkin stamp (Scott #3340) that I piggybacked onto the First Day Cover of the American Filmmaking series (Screenwriting – Scott #3772a) back in 2003. Total face value of all the stamps pictured: $2.66 (and 2/10).

A film like Life invites one to examine the impact you’ve had on others’ lives—inadvertent or otherwise. How your actions cause ripples in the pond, ones that reverberate beyond your own awareness. George never made a name for himself outside of his town, never conquered the world. But his decency was profound, and so was his impact. He sometimes may feel trapped in his life, but he still has choices. He never embezzles money from the Building and Loan. He never cheats on Mary. He lives on his word, his integrity, and the community responds in kind when he needs them.

George could easily appear a plaster saint, a glib archetype of the Everyman Stewart is often best remembered for. But there are far worse things in this world than to be staid and boring and decent. Sometimes, the ripples you set off aren’t ripples, but waves that capsize the boats of others—not just in an alternate life, but in a real world nightmare of your own creation. To have a legacy where you know you’ve made someone’s life worse, not better—it’s a heavy, heavy thing.

Clarence tells George “No man is a failure who has friends.” I wish that were true. But like Zuzu’s petals, I have a buckeye in my pocket—one I’ve kept there for 15 years, reminding me often of those who mattered, but more recently of those I’ve damaged. Perhaps irreparably. For it was a wonderful life. But I’m no George Bailey. And while the future remains uncertain, it will be quite a while before those waves stop crashing.

A Very Special Day

2011-02-06T04:18:00.000-08:00

I apologize for the delay in getting new posts up--life, work, travel (and movies) still create a whirlwind of activity. But there will be more content soon. As New Year's resolutions go, this is one I truly want to stick with.

For now, though, it's a very special day (and not because of the Super Bowl). And I didn't want the day to slip by without acknowledging it as such.

Blessings to all of you. But one in particular.

Updates galore!

2010-10-20T11:36:00.000-07:00

Archived Updates
5/28/09: Once Upon a Time in the West
1/14/10: Avatar & 3D

Stay tuned for more, everyone--Vertigo, 2001: A Space Odyssey, King Kong, Indiana Jones, Do the Right Thing, The Wizard of Oz, and others, all on their way soon!

Gone, but Not Forgotten

2010-09-30T07:23:00.000-07:00

Even though I’m early by a few months to the exact date, 2010 is the 70th Anniversary of George Cukor’s The Philadelphia Story (1940) and another example where biding my time ended up paying off in a big way with my FDCs. I got this card after Cary Grant (Scott #3692) and Jimmy Stewart (Scott #4197) were already issued, so when the wedding set of ring and cake stamps came out (Scott #4397-8), I was tempted to try to squeeze the actors in as well. But while some stars may be Maybes when it comes to a future USPS release, I always knew that Katharine Hepburn was a Mortal Lock, so it seemed preferable to just wait and get all three lined up under one postmark eventually. Little did I suspect that her selection would happen so soon. And as you can see, the result is a real winner.

Many of the stamp designs in the Legends of Hollywood series have been serviceable at best, but I have to say that Hepburn’s is beautifully rendered and probably the most striking of not only the series, but of any USPS issue in recent memory. Aside from Hitchcock’s, it’s the only one in black and white, and the key light is very effective, creating an incandescent quality to an already terrific image. It’s an absolutely lovely tribute to a marvelous actress and to an era in Hollywood that is just a memory. I think it’s also interesting that, unlike Cary & Jimmy, she’s not looking at the camera, but upwards, as if pensively deciding which of the two to choose. Another nice touch is that the suit Stewart is wearing in the stamp is the exact same suit he’s wearing on the one-sheet! Got really lucky there.

I’ve always had mixed feelings about Philadelphia, its “classic” status notwithstanding. It's superbly acted, of course, but still never quite feels divorced (ha!) from its stage origins, and I still think it suffers a little when compared to either the magnificent His Girl Friday (also w/Grant) from the same year, or Bringing Up Baby or even Holiday, which Grant & Hepburn made together two years previously. Engaged to uptight fiancée George (John Howard) and pestered by her roguish ex, C.K. Dexter Haven (Grant), Tracy Lord (Hepburn) has, the day before her wedding, an encounter with visiting reporter Mike (Stewart)—one that’s brief but which still proves formative in allowing her to fully realize what she knows she wants deep in her heart.

Like my real life persona, this blog has never really been eager to share many personal revelations. I usually prefer to play things close to the vest. But today being my 40th birthday, I’m feeling unexpectedly wistful. For a long time, I was never quite convinced by this connection (for lack of a better word) between Tracy & Mike. Mike knows that he’s not right for her, but he still falls and falls hard. And as fate would have it, he is exactly what she needs at that moment, for the circumstances around their connection compel her to decide between Dexter, the man she was meant to be with, and the rigid and judgmental George. I’d always wondered if you could really spend less than 24 hours in someone’s company and still know that you wanted to share a lifetime with them. Romantic comedies are usually designed to sustain us with fantasies about fate and resolution, closure and kismet; whereas the truth was that in the real world, it was always more common for me to feel like a Ralph Bellamy than a Cary Grant.

Yet, fate sometimes has a funny way of completely subverting all your expectations. Because, for one incredible series of moments, I became a “Mike” myself (I was told once that Sept. 30 is a good day for Mikes). As the Dire Straits song from their album Making Movies goes:

Juliet, the dice was loaded from the start
And I bet, and you exploded into my heart
And I forget--I forget--the movie song
When you gonna realise it was just that the time was wrong?

Even now, watching The Philadelphia Story feels a little like picking an old scab--one that still feels fresh. Mike proposes to Tracy, out of chivalry but also out of love; acting as a trigger to her awakening allows him to recognize something new and exciting in him, also. And a lifetime with a smart, spunky, creative, charismatic beauty--who wouldn't want that for themselves? But we know better. And so does she; she belongs to Dex. But after Tracy & Dex find their happiness, I still wonder about Mike--both his legacy and his loss. And sometimes, this Mike still wonders if his Tracy/Juliet ended up with a George or a Dexter. I always hope the latter, though if he’s anything like most of us guys, he’s probably a bit of both. For things are rarely as clear and clean-cut as in the movies.

Remembering things, both personally and institutionally, is an impulse that we can rarely escape. Birthdays commemorate another year gone by. Stamps memorialize our history and our shared and varied culture. Movies so often act as a record of our dreams and idealizations. And for me, even the happiest of films in the most happy of times still evoke that low-lying poignancy, of being that Mike on the margin and the distant echoes of that singularly special Friend and Lover, dearly missed, gone but not forgotten.

I'm back!

2010-02-01T15:17:00.000-08:00

Well, in some ways, I was never really away--I've been drafting posts but never getting them online (primarily because I have a backlog of scanning to do). But I hope to be adding content more soon, including post-dating things that I wanted to include since I last was here (2 years ago--wow!). But for anyone who's visiting for the first time, there will be new stuff going up so thanks for the attention and keep me bookmarked!

Color Me Bor3d

2010-01-14T16:46:00.000-08:00

Well, Avatar is now the phenomenon of the season and 3D has found yet another foothold in the public’s consciousness, once again hoping to be more than a flavor-of-the-month attraction. As the postcard reminds us, 3D made its first serious cinematic splash in the 1950s, with the classic anaglyph image (faithfully reproduced on the stamp) that required the red/blue cardboard glasses. The stamp is from the Celebrate the Century series (Scott #3187o) and represents one of the middle-of-the-road novelty attractions in movies at the time—not as important as widescreen or stereophonic sound, but not as brazenly goofy as those used by William Castle (“Emergo”, “Percepto”, etc.)

But while the technical components of 3D have improved dramatically since then, I’m still not convinced that the Emperor is sporting more than a Navi loincloth. Think back to the introduction of sound or 3-strip Technicolor to the movies: within just a couple of years, film directors were already going beyond the gimmicky phase of those technologies and creating beautiful, provocative pieces with those new tools in their kit.

But 3D has been around for over 50 years, and the number of genuinely innovative, artistic, non-gimmicky uses of the device can still be counted on the fingers of one hand. Henry Selick's recent Coraline was so unusual, and satisfying, because it effectively used the technology to enhance the theme and tone of the film, exploiting the multiple visual planes to create an increased sense of disorientation between Coraline's real world and the creepy mirror world she visits. The feeling was an immersive one, not just for its own sake, but to put ourselves in her state-of-mind, going beyond a Cinema of Sensation and really mining emotional territory from the effect.

But that has not happened in any of the other examples I've seen recently (including Pixar's Up, which used the device so unobtrusively that there was hardly a point to the 3D in the first place). For something to have existed this long and to have made so few genuinely creative inroads into the medium after all this time, I still have to consider it a gimmick—just one with more bells & whistles (and studio money behind it) now.

Predictably, every game in town is revamping their production slates to shoehorn as much additional 3D as possible into their choice tentpole flicks this year—even after-the-fact if necessary. I’m skeptical. We’ll see what the tipping point is before a public backlash occurs. For while people will pay premium pricing for Cameron’s magnum opus (as tedious, predictable, and visually superficial as I personally thought it was), are they going to be willing to shell out those bucks for every 3D film that comes down the pipe? I think we’ll have a much better idea by the end of the year.

Meeting in the Middle

2009-05-28T16:58:00.000-07:00

This is the 30th Anniversary of the American release of Sergio Leone's epic Once Upon a Time in the West (1968). Ambitious and full of memorable setpieces, it has remarkable dramatic and cinematic flourishes, but I still prefer the leaner, meaner The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, perhaps largely because Claudia Cardinale and Charles Bronson don't really have the chops to breathe life into largely totemic parts; Leone always seems more comfortable exploring "Good" on a morally relative continuum, and while West succeeds in some of its broader brushstrokes, Jill & Harmonica are still plaster saints, making them dull compared to Frank & Cheyenne (Henry Fonda & Jason Robards, respectively). While the Dollars trilogy is driven by character complexity and shifting group dynamics, West feels overly reliant on the symbolic weight Leone invests in his heroes, forcing them to do the heavy lifting while the the villains succeed in evoking a greater range of emotions. The film's helped immeasurably by composer Ennio Morricone (who finally won a long overdue Honorary Oscar two years ago), who adds just the right amount of operatic sweep when the film needs it, bringing a sense of electricity and balance to what might otherwise seem ponderous or lop-sided. Overall, it's fun, reverent (perhaps to a fault), and the artistic highpoint of Leone's career.

The FDC here is Fonda's from 2005 (Scott #3911). Along with it is the 1944 stamp commemorating the transcontinental railroad (Scott #922), currently the oldest stamp I've included on the blog and a key plot point for the film (in fact, the film was released in the US almost 100 years to the day of the driving of the Golden Spike, completing the connection of the two ends of the line). This is also the last illustrated postmark for the Legends of Hollywood that doesn't involve the star's autograph (a three-year trend thus far which I suspect may be a permanent one). And given the largely international flavor of the rest of the cast and crew, it seems unlikely that I'll ever have any additional USPS stamps to add to this card later.

Yes We Can

2009-01-20T07:15:00.000-08:00

When Do the Right Thing came out 20 years ago this year, did Spike Lee have any idea that a day like this would happen as soon as it has? I doubt it.

In Lee's masterpiece, it's not the heat but the humanity that ignites a racial firestorm in a colorful Be-Stuy community one summer's day. The fashions may have changed, but the film is still as volcanic and mesmerizing as ever, from the opening credits of "Fight the Power" to that final image of the photo of the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., and Malcolm X, pinned to the wall of the burned-out Sal's pizzeria. And even though he may be more of an icon than a firebrand these days, I've enjoyed Lee's films since that Oscar-nominated effort--nowhere near as incendiary, but just as ballsy, opinionated, and unapologetic in its political and stylistic perspective.

Given that photo, positioning the stamps of King and Malcolm side-by-side was too irresistible for the postmark, though back in 1999, I was still cagey about using the front of the one-sheet postcards for the FDCs, which is why I used the back. The King stamp (Scott #3188a) was part of the Celebrate the Century series, and Malcolm X (Scott #3273) was issued the same year.

When the Vintage Black Cinema series came out in 2008, I used that opportunity to put some additional stamps up front--the original USPS MLK Jr. stamp (Scott #1771) from 1978, as well as one of him released by the People's Republic of Benin the same year. I've never seen The Sport of the Gods (Vernot, 1921) but it was the stamp that best matched the others so that's the one I used.

I don't think anybody believes the next four years will be easy. But it'll be nice to have a POTUS who will indeed (one hopes) Do the Right Thing.

Maximaphily and Me

2008-02-26T15:29:00.000-08:00

Recently, I got a correspondence from my favorite postcard vendor and he used a term that I hadn't heard in a while but which has crossed my stamp-collecting path periodically.

Maximum Card: a postcard with an enlarged picture of a commemorative postage stamp, with the stamp itself postmarked on the picture, usually the first day of issue.

I ran into this term a couple years ago, but it’s never been clear to me how pervasive it was (not to mention its assorted variations) in the philatelic community. It's always struck me as a niche that’s often relegated to an afterthought. Doing a little digging, though, I did unearth this.

In other words…Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Essentially, According-to-Hoyle restrictions on what does and doesn’t constitute a maximum card bore me. Here’s one I created that doesn’t “qualify” by FIP standards for a variety of reasons, but which I like—plus, it also brings up some additional attributes of my collection that haven’t been discussed yet.

First of all, although all my previous blog posts have dealt with postcards with various cinematic themes, this is actually the first stamp I’ve posted about that is film-related itself. This was part of the 10-stamp American Filmmaking series issued back in 2003, with an unexpected bonus that the illustrated postmark used the Academy Award statuette in the design. Dances with Wolves (Costner, 1990), of course, did win 7 Oscars back—including Best Sound (and most famously beating out Martin Scorsese’s GoodFellas for Picture and Director). Needless to say, I’ll eventually post examples of all 10 of the stamps from that series (which include Editing, Cinematography, Art Direction, and others).

Another distinctive element of this card is that it actually incorporates older stamps with a more contemporary issue and postmark (this is different from the multiple-FDCs I posted about earlier). In this particular case, the additional stamps are:

Crazy Horse (1982 – Scott #1855)
Red Cloud (1987 – Scott #2175)
Sitting Bull (1989 – Scott #2183)

The Scott # refers to the Scott Publishing Company and its specialized catalog, which is the philatelist’s bible in researching and referencing every postage stamp ever issued, both in the US and every other country on earth. The international catalog is a multi-volume series that is updated annually, but I just own a copy of the US catalog exactly for situations like this: sometimes, a card presents itself that invites the use of additional, previously-released stamps that dovetail nicely with the subject matter of the card I’m using.

Needless to say, I usually don't have these stamps just lying around, so they do constitute an additional investment, but for older stamps, they're usually pretty reasonably priced (for example, it would cost me $1.90 today to buy the 3 Native American stamps I just listed). That's the main reason I attend stamp shows like Westpex (only two months away!)

Here's another component to my collection--I'll also use the back of the postcards, not just the front, to assemble additional FDCs which may not (for space or aesthetic reasons) be suitable to use on the face. You see that on the back of this card, I also used previously issued stamps with a newer FDC—in this case, one from the 40-part Wonders of America series issued in 2006. The additional stamps are:

Wildlife - Buffalo (1969 – Scott #1392)
Buffalo (2000 – Scott #3468)

I really like using older stamps (in this case, even one issued before I was born), not only because of the variety of style and colors they add on an aesthetic level, but also because I think it provides interesting connective tissue with the past. US stamps in particular represent America’s political and cultural history, and I like incorporating that sense of history into the card assemblies I create. And interestingly enough, the older the stamp, the cheaper it often is to procure. Because the '69 stamp had an original face value of 6 cents, it can increase in value over 600% and still cost less than the 2000 stamp (obviously, once you start hitting the turn-of-the-previous-century, this general rule flies out the window).

Since WonderCon was this past weekend, I thought I would include an FDC from one of the DC Comic issues, since I've already included a few of the Marvel stamps that were released a year later. I haven't collected comics in over 20 years, but these shows also feature lots of movie memoribilia for sale, so it can be a good place to find some movie postcards, if the right vendor shows up. I may even have gotten this card at a previous convention. I have to say I have never actually seen Batwoman (Cardona, 1968), but I can't imagine it can be anywhere as cool as the one-sheet makes it appear.

Lots of film wrap-up catch-ups await, so keep coming back! B^)

Oscar Predix

2008-02-22T16:10:00.000-08:00

Would've liked to comment more on the Nods, but I'll do a fuller post-game analysis next week. In the meantime, here are my predictions as well as what would personally get my vote if I had a ballot...

PICTURE
Prediction: No Country for Old Men
My vote: There Will Be Blood

ACTOR
Prediction: Daniel Day-Lewis, There Will Be Blood
My vote: Daniel Day-Lewis, There Will Be Blood

ACTRESS
Prediction: Julie Christie, Away From Her
My vote: Julie Christie, Away From Her

SUPPORTING ACTOR
Prediction: Javier Bardem, No Country for Old Men
My vote: Javier Bardem, No Country for Old Men

SUPPORTING ACTRESS
Prediction: Tilda Swinton, Michael Clayton
My vote: Tilda Swinton, Michael Clayton

DIRECTOR
Prediction: Joel & Ethan Coen, No Country for Old Men
My vote: Joel & Ethan Coen, No Country for Old Men

ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY
Prediction: Juno
My vote: The Savages

ADAPTED SCREENPLAY
Prediction: No Country for Old Men
My vote: There Will Be Blood

CINEMATOGRAPHY
Prediction: There Will Be Blood
My vote: The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford

ART DIRECTION
Prediction: Sweeney Todd
My vote: There Will Be Blood

EDITING
Prediction: No Country for Old Men
My vote: Into the Wild

COSTUME DESIGN
Prediction: Atonement
My vote: Sweeney Todd

ORIGINAL SCORE
Prediction: Atonement
My vote: Michael Clayton

ORIGINAL SONG
Prediction: “Falling Slowly”, Once
My vote: “Falling Slowly”, Once

SOUND MIXING
Prediction: No Country for Old Men
My vote: No Country for Old Men

SOUND EDITING
Prediction: Transformers
My vote: There Will Be Blood

VISUAL EFFECTS
Prediction: Transformers
My vote: Transformers

MAKE UP
Prediction: La Vie en Rose
My vote: La Vie en Rose

FOREIGN LANGUAGE FILM
Prediction: The Counterfeiters

ANIMATED FEATURE
Prediction: Ratatouille
My vote: Persepolis

ANIMATED SHORT
Prediction: Peter and the Wolf
My vote: Peter and the Wolf

DOCUMENTARY FEATURE
Prediction: No End in Sight

DOCUMENTARY SHORT
Prediction: Freeheld

LIVE ACTION SHORT
Prediction: The Mozart of Pickpockets

Ask the Filmatelist - Part I

2008-02-11T15:57:00.000-08:00

For our first installment of a (hopefully) recurring feature, Ask The Filmatelist, we go to my friend Brian, who’s the host of, IMHO, the Best Bay Area Movie Blog around:

One question from a stamp ignoramus: why did you use three stamps for the "Fargo" postcard, instead of all four, or just one?

A good question, though I should address the “ignoramus” comment first—Believe me, I may be The Filmatelist, but my hobbying is truly Amateur Hour. I attend Westpex every year (more on that in a future post), and as much as I enjoy assembling this material, it is really just dabbling compared to what the old school philatelists commit themselves to. So I can’t speak as anything other than a stamp collecting fan, as opposed to a hardline purist in the field.

The conventional wisdom suggests that you’re probably right—it certainly seems to make more sense, particularly from an investment standpoint, to include all four stamps of the holiday issue together. There are a couple different reasons why I chose not to.

From an aesthetic standpoint, I didn’t want to include the fourth stamp (a knit snowman), because not only did the color of the stamp not quite balance with the colors of the postcard and the other three stamps, but also because I thought having stamps four-across would end up looking a little cluttered. As you’ll see in future posts, sometimes the sheer volume of stamps appropriate for a postcard trumps appearance or compositional concerns, but in this case, I thought it would look better without the fourth.

Another consideration, though, was that I had another use for that snowman stamp:

This is a postcard still from the Pixar short Knick-Knack (Lasseter, 1989), about a snowman trying to escape the snowglobe in which he’s encased. It’s probably my favorite of all the Pixar shorts, with a charming a cappella score by Bobby McFerrin, and I thought the snowman stamp would work better here. Although my emphasis has always been collecting the one-sheet movie advert postcards, I also occasionally will seek out other film-related postcards if I know I’ll be able to use them with an upcoming issue.

Similarly, if there’s a multi-stamp release that has some stamps I know I want to use, then I’ll make a concerted effort to find enough different postcards so I can use all the stamps from that issue—even ones that might not seem as obvious a candidate. Since my last post introduced both the Muppet and Marvel Comic stamp releases, here are two more one-sheets that use other stamps from those same issues:

Probably the most frustrating part of this hobby is knowing the perfect movie to match with a stamp, but not having the postcard for that film. That’s why having National Lampoon’s Animal House (Landis, 1978) was a particularly happy accident, Animal being my second favorite muppet as it is (just ahead of Beaker and behind the Swedish Chef).

Spider Woman’s inclusion in the Marvel Comics issue reeked of quota pandering (Spider Woman? over Thor? Daredevil?) But there was one unlikely film that she was perfect for: Kiss of the Spider Woman (Babenco, 1985). This postcard is actually a German one-sheet for the film. I would estimate maybe 10-15% of the postcards I have for American films are movie adverts from foreign countries, quite a few purchased in my international travels, though a majority still from American postcard companies licensing the images for domestic sale.

Hope that clarified things, and thanks for the question, Brian! To Ask The Filmatelist, you can e-mail me (Filmatelist@gmail.com) or just post your question in the comments field. See you soon…

Illustrated Postmarks and Multiple FDCs

2008-02-06T10:00:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was Tsunami Tuesday, so I thought Wag the Dog (Levinson, 1997) would be a good selection to introduce a couple more aspects to my First Day Cover collection.

The first is that the USPS often uses illustrated postmarks for their FDCs, but they won’t always apply them unless you specifically request it. Contrast the two illustrated postmarks from these Muppet and Marvel Comic issues to the plainer one used for the holiday stamps from my last FDC post.

The other component is getting multiple FDCs on a single card. As I mentioned before, sometimes the connections between stamp and card are obvious and sometimes a little more, uh, spurious. Few people would connect Jim Henson’s creations to a David Mamet political satire, but I thought Sam the Eagle and Rowlf the Dog made a good pairing with the title, figuratively and literally. And extending that patriotic meme, Captain America seemed another obvious choice when the opportunity presented itself two years later (and though I haven’t followed his adventures since high school—Welcome Back, Cap!).

Hollywood’s always been a tough nut for Mamet to crack. Wag is fun, but runs off the rails pretty quickly, and the methods of manipulation that overlap in politics and entertainment are only cursorily explored. Speed the Plow (which I just saw at ACT this past weekend), hardly fares better. More acerbic and rooted firmly in his comfort zone (estrogen-fearing male competitiveness), it still doesn’t tell us anything about the industry that Billy Wilder and Vincente Minnelli weren’t expressing back in the 50s. State and Main is the most successful, but it’s too content in playing things cozy, soft-pedaling even its harshest barbs. It’s like a snuggly Vermont B&B weekend, just not as memorable (except perhaps for giving us the one single non-irritating Rebecca Pidgeon performance).

Next week: Our first installment of Ask the Filmatelist!

Out of Ocala

2008-02-04T08:33:00.000-08:00

Alfre Woodard’s always been one of my favorite actresses, but the one film that earned her an Oscar nomination had always eluded me, so it was a treat exploring Cross Creek (Ritt, 1983), the lovely biopic of Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings. It’s interesting to remember that Out of Africa took home a boatload of Academy Awards just two years later, but the Ritt, with a similar arc, is a better film for concentrating on the writing process and not merely on the biographical trappings. In the Pollack film, Karen Blixen’s poems often seem incidental to her character’s development, serving more as a pretense to indulge in African nature-watching and a tedious Robert Redford romance. Rawling’s love life, however, is secondary to her search for her own authorial voice, and her immersion into the hardscrabble world of backwoods Bayou life serves as an interesting contrast to the post-imperialist plantation privileges Meryl Streep gets to enjoy. Ritt has always been highly sensitive to issues of class in American life without over-sentimentalizing the poor, which is always a harder sell than exotic animals and picture-postcard prettiness anyway.

The film’s still by-the-numbers in a typical Hollywood sense, and Leonard Rosenman's intrusive score distracts (especially compared to Taj Mahal’s authentic music coloring in Ritt’s Sounder from the previous decade), but Mary Steenburgen’s brittleness is used to good effect, and Rip Torn in particular is very funny and very touching (he was also nominated for an Oscar). Woodard brings in all the subtle colorings we’re used to seeing from her, but if anything, this film serves as an interesting trial run for her glorious work in John Sayles’ Passion Fish nine years later—a much better film that also exploits its own bayou locations (in Louisiana, as opposed to Florida) in marvelous ways.

Rawlings is getting a US postage stamp this month (though, alas, I don’t have any postcards for The Yearling, so it won’t impact my own collection at all).

What's a Filmatelist?

2008-01-31T13:17:00.000-08:00

phi·lat·e·list [fi-lat-l-ist]: one who collects stamps and other postal matter as a hobby or an investment

Since for as long as I can remember my passion has been movies, so it seemed quite natural to allow my interest in film to dovetail with my ongoing fascination with stamp collecting. For a while, this manifested itself in a broad, rather random variety of items I collected, but eventually, I found it easiest to narrow my emphasis to one specific area I enjoyed the most.

One Sheet: A 27"x41" poster, usually printed on paper stock and usually folded.
First Day Cover (FDC): An envelope with a new stamp and cancellation showing the date the stamp was issued.

Though I love movies, I've never really gotten into collecting memorabilia (though this had as much to do with the logistics and economics of maintaining such a collection as anything else). But I do have two vices: Original scores (on CD) and One Sheet film advertisements reproduced onto postcards. Whereas a single one sheet could put me back $20 or more (sometimes much, much more), a postcard would only cost me a buck. So I've managed to collect a few thousand of them over the years.

Independent of this, I started idly (even haphazardly) collecting movie stamps. Anything that related to movies or the film industry, domestic or international, was fair game. And this was fine for a while, but quickly became ungainly (more on that in a future post). So I decided to limit myself to FDCs. But while First Day Cover postmarks usually are found only on envelopes (usually with some pre-printed, mass-produced design element and called a cachet), I decided to utilize my postcard collection instead, creating a unique, and rather addictive, hybrid of the two pasttimes.

Probably the best way to illustrate this, however, is to simply show you. Here's a postcard I prepared and sent to the appropriate USPS postmaster last month, and just recently got back:

As you can see, the film is Fargo (Coen, 1996) and the stamps are 3 of the four Holiday stamps released October 25, 2007 (note the postmark). While sometimes I'll use a stamp that has a direct relationship to the movie I'm using, there are other times when I'll pick a postcard simply because of a thematic or visual relationship between the stamp and the film in question. This is a good example of the latter (though sticklers might argue that the poster is actually an example of cross-stitching, I'm not about to Knitpick the issue). The winter theme and the color schemes on both also complement each other, and it doesn't hurt that the movie itself is darkly humorous and the stamps, I think, reinforce the playfully ironic tone of the poster art itself.

Fargo is also notable because it has one of the best philatelic scenes committed to film (though we never see the actual stamp). In the final scene, Marge Gunderson (Frances McDormand) and her husband Norm (John Carroll Lynch) are in bed. The film has previously referred to a painting he's been working on for submission somewhere, and that arc neatly closes here:

Norm: They announced it.
Marge: They announced it?
Norm: Yeah.
Marge: So?
Norm: Three-cent stamp.
Marge: Your mallard?
Norm: Yeah.
Marge: Oh, that's terrific.
Norm: It's just a three-cent.
Marge: It's terrific.
Norm: Hautman's blue-winged teal got the 29-cent. People don't much use the three-cent.
Marge: Oh, for Pete's…. Of course they do. Whenever they raise the postage, people need the little stamps.
Norm: Yeah?
Marge: When they're stuck with a bunch of the old ones.
Norm: Yeah. I guess.
Marge: That's terrific. I'm so proud of you, Norm.

It's a lovely little moment, and Marge's law enforcement officer acts as an interesting contrast to Tommy Lee Jones' sheriff in the Coens' recent film No Country for Old Men. While both are able and compassionate, serving as the moral centers of their respective stories, Marge is resiliently optimistic, even when facing the malignancy of some men's casual indifference to anything beyond self-interest. But Ed Bell is worn down by the world, by the pervasiveness of evil and the ubiquity of violence that he sees around him. His resignation (both vocational and spiritual) is a poignant one, for it's a worldview that doesn't come easily for him. But he knows enough about himself to appreciate his limits—that his capacity to confront the banality of cruelty has eroded over time, and the more he observes, the more he yearns for some kind of moral stability or reason that he can no longer find. It's an unusually bitter ending for the Coens, but to these eyes, a perfectly calibrated one.

To this end, a lot of credit goes to Roger Deakins, who perfectly captured the bleakness of both the Minnesota snowscapes and the Texas desert in the two films. He's up for a Cinematography Oscar this year, not only for the Coens' film, but also for The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (which would get my vote). The last film by the Coens to get an Oscar was, of course, Fargo (for their screenwriting and for McDormand as lead actress), and it appears that the brothers are likely to pick up another set this year, with another actor (supporting nominee Javier Bardem) in tow.

So, in short, that's what this blog will be about--posting various fun, film-related FDCs that I've created myself, as well as provide some general ruminations on movies I see throughout the year. Thanks for reading, feel free to ask me any questions (about movies, stamps, or movie stamps), and talk to you soon.

The Filmatelist

A Hurried Welcome

2008-01-21T17:27:00.000-08:00

Well, I definitely started this a bit later than I'd planned, but thought I should post a quick note in anticipation of tomorrow morning's Oscar announcements. What is a Filmatelist? I'll deal with that more in my next post, but the prefix is self-evident: part of this blog will be about random film musings, screening logs, and other observations. As an opener, here's my Top 10 list for 2007:

1. There Will Be Blood
2. Into the Wild
3. Into Great Silence
4. No Country for Old Men
5. The Savages
6. Gone, Baby Gone
7. Away from Her
8. Black Book
9. Paprika
10. Dan in Real Life

Honorable Mentions: Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, Deep Water, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, Eastern Promises, The Host, The Lookout, Once, Superbad, This is England, Zodiac

And the worst: 300 (Dishonorable mentions: Atonement, Pirates 3)

So that's it for now, but I'll see you soon...

Movies, Stamps, and...uh...Movie Stamps!

2007-12-19T14:09:00.000-08:00

Coming Soon....