That's Dancing in Kiss Me Kate!

Kiss Me Kate (1953) boasts a Cole Porter score full of familiar tunes and was made by MGM during the era when the studio was known for its lavish musicals. And yet, it was considered a box office failure when first released and remains largely forgotten today. That's a shame because it features some truly spectacular musical numbers featuring the dancing of Ann Miller, Tommy Rall, Bobby Van, Bob Fosse, and Carol Haney. Some of those names may be unfamiliar if you're not a aficionado of great dancers. But their jaw-dropping talents make Kiss Me Kate worth your time despite a creaky, overly-familiar plot.

Howard Keel singing to Kathryn Grayson.

For the record, the story has producer/ star Fred Graham (Howard Keel) mounting a stage musical of The Taming of the Shrew starring his ex-wife Lilli (Kathryn Grayson) as Katherine and himself as Petruchio. Lilli is engaged to a Texan millionaire and Fred is interested in a pretty dancer, but it's clear that the divorced couple still harbor romantic feelings toward each other.

This unoriginal plot gets a boost from the side stories, especially one featuring a couple of thugs (wonderfully played by Keenan Wynn and James Whitmore) who believe Fred owes their gangster boss money. Fred convinces the duo that he can't pay if the musical shuts down and that Lilli is threatening to leave the production. Thus, the thugs have to ensure that Lilli remains with the show!

Soprano Kathryn Grayson signed with MGM in 1940 at the age of 18. She had appeared in a number of hit movies (e.g.,  Anchors Aweigh) before headlining the studio's highly successful remake of Showboat in 1951. Kiss Me Kate pairs her with Showboat co-star Howard Keel. Their duets on Porter classics like "So in Love" and "Wunderbar" are pleasant, but Grayson's finest hour is her no holds barred rendition of "I Hate Men." As she punctuates the lyrics, she repeatedly slams down a metal goblet to emphasize her point--and dramatically sweeps the surface of a table at the finish. 

Ann Miller.

Despite Grayson's triumph, the best parts of Kiss Me Kate are the dance numbers. Ann Miller kicks off the hoofing with an energetic "Too Darn Hot" (though it seems tossed into the plot at the last minute). Later, she and Tommy Rall dance an acrobatic duet to "Why Can't You Behave." However, the film's highlight is "From This Moment On." which features Miller, Rall, Bob Fosse, Carol Haney, Bobby Van, and Jeanne Coyne (ex-wife of both Gene Kelly and Stanley Donen). Fred Astaire's frequent collaborator, Hermes Pan, choreographed all of Kiss Me Kate's dances except for the Fosse-Haney duet near the end of "From This Moment On." It showcases what would become Fosse's trademarks and sizzles with sexuality and flair.

By the way, if you watch Kiss Me Kate and wonder why people and objects keep moving toward the camera, it's because the film was shot in 3D. It's a minor distraction, though. If you enjoy stylish, energetic dancing, then Kiss Me Kate is a must-watch. 

Here is the "From This Moment On" number, which we're currently featuring on the Cafe's YouTube channel:

The Conversation and Repeat Performance

Gene Hackman.

The Conversation (1974). Francis Ford Coppola directed this overlong, but engrossing look into the life of an intensely private surveillance expert (Gene Hackman) whose recording of a seemingly innocent conversation has tragic results. Hackman’s character strives to distance himself from his subjects (“I don’t care what they’re talking about.—all I want is a nice fat recording.”). But his latest assignment conjures up painful memories of a previous job where one of his recordings led to murder. Hackman perfectly captures the loneliness and paranoia of a man who intrudes on others’ privacy, while zealously guarding his own. The best scene: Hackman and surveillance rival Allen Garfield try to one up each other during a party with other experts in their field. A young Harrison Ford plays a menacing business executive and Cindy Williams (Shirley in in the 1970s hit sitcom “Laverne and Shirley”) plays one of the subjects in the title conversation. Hackman, Coppola, and the film all earned Oscar nominations; Coppola lost to himself (he won for The Godfather Part II). Hackman played a similar surveillance expert in 1998’s Will Smith thriller Enemy of the State.

Joan Leslie.

Repeat Performance (1948). I first saw Repeat Performance over the Christmas holidays when I was in high school. The timing was impeccable since the film’s opening takes place on New Year’s Eve. I suspect I watched it because the supporting cast included Richard Basehart (star of my first favorite TV series “Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea”) and Tom Conway (from The Falcon detective films). In any event, I found myself watching what amounted to an extended episode of “The Twilight Zone”—and, this case, that's a high compliment. Joan Leslie plays Sheila Page, a popular stage actress who kills her playwright husband at December 31st. Distraught over what she has done, Sheila goes to see her emotionally fragile friend, poet William Williams (Basehart). Sheila tells William that she wishes for a second chance—if she could live the year again, she would do things differently. When the clock strikes midnight, the year begins over again. Yet, no matter what Sheila does, fate intervenes and she seems powerless to alter the ultimate course of destiny. Released by budget-minded Eagle Lion, Repeat Performance was regarded as a minor “B” film when first released. It has gained a little fame over the years, having been remade as the 1989 made-for-TV movie Turn Back the Clock with Connie Selleca (and featuring Joan Leslie in a cameo). In the late 1990s, it began to pop up at film noir conventions, sometimes with Leslie in attendance. Incidentally, the supporting also features a young Natalie Schafer—Mrs. Howell from “Gilligan’s Island.”

All That Heavens Allows and Come September

Rock and Jane in front of the picture window.

All That Heaven Allows (1955). My second favorite Douglas Sirk film (after Imitation of Life with Lana Turner) stars Jane Wyman as Cary Scott, a wealthy widow in a New England town who falls in love with Ron Kirby (Rock Hudson), a younger man who works as a gardener. Their romance faces the disapproval of Cary’s snobbish children and her country club friends, who think Ron is beneath her. Cary must choose between following her heart or conforming to society’s expectations. All That Heaven Allows is not a nuanced film. Indeed, most of the characters are drawn too broadly: Cary's children are shallow and her friends, except perhaps for one played by Agnes Moorehead, are snooty; in contrast, Ron's friends are warm and inviting. However, Sirk imbues this story with an elegant simplicity and paints it with vivid colors. The opening scenes, set during autumn, pop with visual splendor. Later scenes set in front of a picture window in Ron's mill-turned-home look like Paul Gaugin's Winter Landscape come to life. It's clear that Rock Hudson, who also teamed with Jane Wyman in the previous year's inferior Magnificent Obsession, was still honing his craft as an actor. However, he projects his character's earnestness and confidence well and plays off effectively opposite veteran star Wyman. Todd Haynes' 2002 drama Far from Heaven is an affectionate homage to All That Heaven Allows. It also concerns a "forbidden love affair" and Haynes copies Sirk's color palette skillfully. 

Gina Lollobrigida and Rock Hudson.

Come September (1961). Rock Hudson's comedic follow-up to Pillow Talk (1959) is a modestly amusing outing with enough plot for two or three movies. Rock plays Robert Talbot, a wealthy American businessman, who owns a villa in Italy where he spends every September with his Italian girlfriend, Lisa (Gina Lollobrigida).  However, he arrives early one year and finds out that Lisa is about to marry another man, his villa has been turned into a hotel by his concierge, and a group of young American girls are staying there. He tries to romance Lisa, chaperone the girls, and deal with a group of boys interested in the young ladies. With Walter Slezak as the concierge and Brenda De Banzie as the girls' tour guide, Come September could have focused on the villa-as-a-hotel plot and been very funny. Unfortunately, the veteran supporting stars get cast aside for most of the movie in favor of teen star Sandra Dee (Gidget) and pop singer-turned-actor Bobby Darin. That's not to say that Dee and Darin aren't appealing. In real life, they fell in love on the set and got married; their mutual attraction shows up clearly on the screen. However, the overall result is that Come September is a bit of a disjointed mess, funnier in parts than as a whole. By the way, that's future Oscar winner Joel Grey (Cabaret) as Bobby Darin's best friend.

We Name the TV Characters...You Name the Series!

We thought we'd try out a new game this month! For each numbered item below, we have listed three characters from the same TV series. Your task is to name the TV series! Most of these are easy; we tried not to go for obscure characters (at least for this edition). Note that we may have listed a character's first name or last name.

As always, please answer no more than three questions per day so more people can play and have fun. Try not to research your answers as it'd be pretty easy to google the names and get a show's title. 

1. Troy, Hitchcock, Tully.

2. Sam, Howard, Emmett.

3. Sam, Hank, Ralph.

4. April, Mark, Waverly.

5. Tara, Mother, John.

6. Roy, Candy, Jamie.

7. Saunders, Hanley, Caje.

8. Mary Beth, Christine, Bert.

9. Chip, Lee, Harriman.

10. Ward, Colby, Erkskine.

11. Jimmy, Witchiepoo, Freddy.

12. Keller, Stone, Tanner.

13. Tate, McKenzie, Trampas.

14. Pete, Julie, Linc.

15. Larry, Gilbert, Clarence.

Ghost Story--The Film Adaptation Dilemma

Fred Astaire as a Chowder
Society member.

When I watch a film adaptation, I try to evaluate it on its own merits--as opposed to comparing the movie to its literary source. I am struggling with that, though, as I write this review of Ghost Story (1981), a simplified version of Peter Straub's engrossing 1979 bestseller. With its framing device and stories woven into a larger narrative, Ghost Story might have fared better as a miniseries. This 110-minute adaptation plays like a "greatest hits" version of the book. 

Fred Astaire, John Houseman, Melvyn Douglas, and Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. portray the four elderly friends who comprise the Chowder Society, a secret club of sorts in the rural upper-New York town of Milburn. The Society's members meet regularly to tell each other creepy stories, which may or may not be true. Things haven't been the same since a fifth member died suddenly a year earlier and the surviving friends began to experience vivid nightmares.

Craig Wasson as Don.

Tragedy strikes again when one of the four, Edward Wanderley (Fairbanks, Jr.), learns that his son David (Craig Wasson) has fallen to his death from his high-rise New York apartment. His other son, Don (Wasson again), returns home for the funeral, but the two struggle to comfort one another. One snowy morning, Edward, believing he has seen his dead son, wanders into the bitter cold and is found dead. Soon after, Don confronts the Chowder Society, revealing that he shares a dark secret with them.

Director John Irvin creates an unsettling ambience in the opening scenes. The isolated town, covered in a white sheet of snow and dark clouds, seems like the perfect breeding place for evil. And one couldn't ask for a more impressive quartet of actors to embody the Chowder Society. Indeed, Ghost Story appears set up to succeed--until it doesn't. When Don tells his story to the group, the narrative goes off-course with an expanded flashback set in sunny Florida. It sucks the wind out of the movie and robs it of its most promising characters.

Later, there's yet another long flashback in which we learn what happened to the Chowder Society members when they were younger. Their horrible secret turns out to be underwhelming after the build-up (though generally faithful to the novel). The casting of the younger Chowder Society members is interesting--I never would have thought Ken Olin (thirtysomething) would turn into John Houseman as he grew older! 

A major problem is that the movie's length cannot support the novel's structure. We don't spend enough time with any of the characters to get to know them. It helps that many roles are played by well-known actors in familiar roles (e.g., Houseman is blustery, Astaire is likable). However, I never really cared what happened to these people.

Even worse, the film's ending totally deviates from the novel. I'll avoid plot spoilers, but suffice to say that the novel involved a nasty supernatural creature that did not go easily into the night. In contrast, the film version of Ghost Story features nothing more than a vengeful ghost.

I was afraid of this. I've spent most of this review comparing book and movie. That's unfair to the cinematic Ghost Story, but I still stand by my assessment is that's no more than an adequate motion picture. There's still a good Ghost Story miniseries just waiting to be made.

(You can currently stream Ghost Story for free by clicking here.)

Roadgames: A Little Bit of Rear Window, a Dash of Duel

Quid (Stacy Keach) with his harmonica.

Directed by Hitchcock admirer Richard Franklin, Roadgames (1981) follows truck driver Patrick Quid (Stacy Keach) as he traverses the desolate highways of rural Australia after witnessing what may have been the aftermath of a murder. You see, there's a serial killer on the loose and Quid suspects it's the mysterious man driving a green van.

Released when slasher films like Halloween (1978) and Friday the 13th (1980) were in vogue, Roadgames is an oddity. It sounds like a slasher film, but--as its PG rating suggests--it's more of a throwback to suspense films like The Hitch-Hiker (1953). 

Thematically, Roadgames mirrors Hitchcock's Rear Window with its exploration of voyeurism and the paranoia that comes with it. Just as James Stewart’s character in Rear Window is confined to his apartment, Keach’s Quid is largely confined to his truck, observing the world through his windshield. The film also echoes Steven Spielberg's Duel (1971) with its intense, road-bound cat-and-mouse game, where the vast, empty landscapes heighten the sense of isolation and danger.

Stacy Keach delivers a standout performance as Quid, a trucker with a penchant for poetry and a sharp wit. His character’s quirky charm and intelligence add depth to the film, making him a compelling protagonist. On the other hand, Jamie Lee Curtis has limited screen time and is mired in an underwritten role as a hitch-hiker (again...she also played one in The Fog).* Aussie actress Marion Edward fares better as a stranded wife picked by Quid--and who fears that he may be the killer.

Shades of Hitchock's Rear Window.

Director Franklin makes exceptional use of the rural Australian settings, capturing the stark beauty and eerie emptiness of the outback. This backdrop heightens the film’s tension and sense of isolation, making one wonder why Franklin chose to stage the climax in an urban setting. It's a clunky ending altogether that negates some of the goodwill that Roadgames has established along the way.

Thus, if you watch Roadgames, watch it for the ride. In that context, it delivers modest thrills and a likable quirkiness. The best example of both is a scene in which Quid believes he has the killer trapped in a bathroom stall--and isn't quite sure what to do.

Though it was not a box office success in the U.S., Roadgames attracted enough attention to get Richard Franklin a plum directing assignment. His next movie, Psycho II (1983), was a belated sequel to one of his idol's most famous films.

* Richard Franklin has stated that Actors Equity of Sydney was displeased that an American actress was cast in the role, instead of an Australian performer. Avco Embassy, who provided some of the film's financing, insisted on a "name star" that American audiences would recognize. That led to the casting of Jamie Lee Curtis, who had previously starred in Halloween and The Fog.

We Name the Cast...You Name the Movie!

This is our second edition of this new game. Please let us if you enjoy playing it. For each movie below, we have listed three performers that appeared in it (not necessarily as a star). Your task is to name the movie! As always, please answer no more than three questions per day so more people can play and have fun. Try not to research your answers as it'd be pretty easy to google the cast and get a film's title. We avoided really obscure movies and lesser-known actors and actresses. 

1. Peter Graves, Shelley Winters, Kathy Garver.

2. James Mason, Deborah Kerr, Jane Greer.

3. Rock Hudson, Tony Curtis, Shelley Winters.

4. Leslie Nielsen, Arthur O’Connell, Red Buttons.

5. Art Carney, Ingrid Bergman, Wally Cox.

6. Tony Curtis, Gavin McLeod, Marion Ross.

7. Myrna Loy, Jean Hersholt, Boris Karloff.

8. Edmund O'Brien, Neville Brand, Telly Savalas.

9. Stefanie Powers, Harry Morgan, Peter Lawford.

10. Lee J. Cobb, Anthony Perkins, Audrey Hepburn.

11. Clint Walker, Paul Lynde, Tony Randall.

12. Jack Weston, Tuesday Weld, Rip Torn.

13. Walter Pidgeon, Peter Lorre, Barbara Eden.

14. Sterling Hayden, Janet Leigh, Victor McLaglen.

15. Dorothy McGuire, Bert Convy, Natalie Schaefer.

Dick Powell Transforms His Career with Murder, My Sweet

Dick Powell as Marlowe.

My favorite fictional detectives are the erudite, snobbish Philo Vance and the sarcastic, sly Philip Marlowe. Both have been the subject of numerous films, but with middling results. Marlowe has been played by an unusual assortment of actors that includes Humphrey Bogart, Robert Montgomery, George Montgomery, James Garner, Elliott Gould, Robert Mitchum, and Liam Neeson. Bogart captured Marlowe’s toughness. Garner projected the right amount of sarcasm. Mitchum exhibited the requisite amount of world-weariness. But none of them could compare to the cinema’s first Philip Marlowe, as portrayed by Dick Powell in Edward Dmytryk’s smashing film noir Murder, My Sweet.

Powell's performance is all the more impressive when one considers his previous films were lighthearted musicals. Indeed, Powell’s early success as a crooner stifled his acting career. (By the way, he had a pleasant voice; my Mom had several of his records.)  But Powell’s career star status was dimming when RKO signed him to a contract. He still had enough clout to pick his own films and his first RKO effort was Murder,  My Sweet. It was based on the second Marlowe novel Farewell, My Lovely—which was my father's favorite book in the series (my second fave to The Lady in Lake).

Like all of Raymond Chandler’s novels, the colorful characters and seedy, neon-lit atmosphere of 1940s Los Angeles overpower the complex plotting which intertwines two mysteries. In the first, a big homicidal lug named Moose Malloy hires Marlowe to find Velma, his former girlfriend. He hasn’t seen her for eight years and it’s been six since she wrote. Of course, Moose spent most of that time in prison--but he still pines for his sweet, little Velma and desperately wants to be with her.

Marlowe’s second case seems even more straightforward. A well-dressed ne’er-do-well named Lindsay Marriott wants Marlowe to accompany him on a midnight rendezvous to buy back a lady friend’s stolen jade necklace. Unfortunately, the plan goes awry when Marlowe is knocked unconscious and awakes to find a pummeled dead body.

Dick Powell and Claire Trevor.

Powell’s dynamic performance anchors the film, but he also benefits from some classic Chandler dialogue (often spoken in voiceover as Marlowe recounts his story to the police). When Marlowe finds a dead body, he quips: “He was just snapped—the way a pretty girl would snap a stalk of celery.” Velma’s sleazy former employer is described as “a charming, middle-aged lady with a face like a bucket of mud.”

Edward Dmytryk was a promising director with a thin resume when he made Murder, My Sweet and he put his all into the film. The pacing is swift, the atmosphere is appropriately sordid, and the visuals are stylish (e.g., when Marlowe is knocked unconscious, a black pool swallows up the frame). I met Dmytryk when he gave a guest lecture at Indiana University in the late 1970s. He wouldn’t have mentioned Murder, My Sweet if I hadn’t asked a question about it. Most of his lecture centered on the years he was blacklisted  during the McCarthy era.

Murder, My Sweet holds up remarkably well as a classic film noir. It also marked a turning point in Powell’s career. He followed it with the compelling, brutal Cornered and established himself as a dramatic actor. He went on to be become a successful film director and a television pioneer when he co-founded Four Star Studios in the 1950s.

For the record, while Murder, My Sweet was the first Marlowe movie, the novel Farewell, My Lovely was adapted earlier as the "B" picture The Falcon Takes Over (1942). Philip Marlowe was nowhere in sight in this version. Instead, George Sanders starred as the debonair Gay Lawrence, who takes on Moose Malloy's case.

Mandy and A Boy Ten Feet Tall

Mandy Miller as Mandy.

Mandy (aka Crash of Silence) (1952). The lives of Christine and Harry Garland are thrown into turmoil when they discover that their young daughter, Mandy, is congenitally deaf. The parents grapple with their own misconceptions and differing views on how to best support Mandy. Should she be kept at home for private tutoring, as her grandparents suggest, or placed in a school with other deaf children? The tension between the parents, fueled by suspicions of an affair, add emotional weight to the narrative. The first-rate British cast shines all around. Phyllis Calvert and Terence Morgan capture the parents’ emotional struggles as they try to determine if their actions reflect what they want or what their daughter Mandy needs. Jack Hawkins shines as an instructor at the deaf school, whose intense focus on his students puts him at odds with an influential member of the school's board. Finally, there is the young actress Mandy Miller (who was not deaf in real life), who plays Mandy. With very limited dialogue, she expresses the young girl's loneliness, confusion, and frustration, especially when placed in the boarding school and separated from her family. (Incidentally, that's Jane Asher--Paul McCartney's one-time girlfriend--as Mandy's eventual friend at school.) Director Alexander Mackendrick, best known for his Ealing comedies and the noirish Sweet Smell of Success (1957), deserves praise for sensitively portraying Mandy’s world. Through her eyes, we witness the challenges of communication, isolation, and the desire to connect with others. (You can stream Mandy for free on the Million Dollar Movie Classics channel.)

Fergus McClelland and Edward G. Robinson.

A Boy Ten Feet Tall (aka Sammy Going South) (1963).  Another Alexander Mackendrick film with a young protagonist, A Boy Ten Feet Tall focuses on ten-year-old Sammy Hartland. After his parents are killed during the Suez Crisis in 1956, Sammy embarks on an epic journey from Egypt to South Africa. Armed with only a toy compass and the knowledge that his goal to is to travel south, Sammy sets out to find his aunt in Durban. He encounters a variety of characters along the way, including: a Syrian nomad who hopes to profit off Sammy; a well-meaning American tourist; and a kind-hearted diamond smuggler. Despite the immense challenges he faces, including the loss of his parents and the daunting task of traveling across a continent, Sammy remains determined and resourceful. His character evolves from a vulnerable child into a strong and independent young boy, showcasing his inner strength and adaptability. Newcomer Fergus McClelland makes a likable lead, but Edward G. Robinson delivers the film's standout performance as Cocky Wainwright, the diamond smuggler who temporarily becomes Sammy’s surrogate father. Robinson brings warmth and subtle compassion to the role, creating a character that is both gruff and endearing.  Director Mackendrick masterfully allows the audience to see the events through Sammy’s eyes, much as he did with the young protagonist in Mandy. This perspective ensures that the film remains focused on Sammy’s emotional journey, making it a poignant and engaging--if episodic--adventure. The mostly on-location shooting brings a raw, realistic quality to the film, highlighting the vastness and beauty of the African continent. This review is based on the 118-minute cut of A Boy Ten Feet Tall, which you can view stream for free on the Million Dollar Movie Classics channel. The original 129-minute version is believed to be lost. An 88-minute version was released to theaters in the U.S. in the 1960s.

Picnic and Written on the Wind

Kim Novak and William Holden.

Picnic (1955). Joshua Logan, who directed the stage version William Inge's Pulitzer Prize-winning play, also directed this screen adaptation. Set in a small Kansas town, the story revolves around Hal Carter (William Holden), a charming drifter who arrives in town seeking employment and a fresh start. He reconnects with his old fraternity friend, Alan Benson (Clift Robertson), the son of a wealthy businessman. At the town's annual Labor Day picnic, he attracts the attention of Madge Owens (Kim Novak), the local beauty queen and Alan's girlfriend. As Hal and Madge's attraction grows, it causes tension and reveals the hidden desires and frustrations of several townsfolk. At age 37, Holden was perhaps a little old for the role of Hal, but he projects weariness and vulnerability masked by Hal's bravado. Holden and Novak sizzle in their scenes together, particularly a dance at the picnic. As they draw closer to one another, their fingers interlocking momentarily, the music (the 1933 standard "Moonglow") merges into composer George Duning's exquisite Picnic love theme. It's a magical movie moment that lingers long after Picnic ends. Rosalind Russell and a teenaged Susan Strasberg get the best scenes among the supporting cast. Russell is almost too overpowering as a spinster teacher desperate for marriage. However, her outburst toward Hal at the picnic--in which she unleashes her sexual frustrations--shows Russell at her best. In contrast, Strasberg delivers a beautifully understated performance as Madge's bookish younger sister, who surprisingly understands her sibling better than anyone else. Picnic was adapted as a TV movie in 2000 with Josh Brolin and Gretchen Mol as Hal and Madge. It's pleasant enough, but lacks the urgency and sexual tension of the 1955 version.

Rock Hudson and Dorothy Malone.

Written on the Wind (1956). Alcoholic, millionaire playboy Kyle Hadley (Robert Stack) seems to have found meaning in life after falling in love with and marrying secretary Lucy (Lauren Bacall). However, jealousies are simmering beneath the surface. You see, Kyle's best friend Mitch (Rock Hudson) is already smitten with Lucy and Kyle's sister Marylee (Dorothy Malone), who loves Mitch, resents her brother's bride mightily. Based on a novel by Robert Wilder (Flamingo Road), Written on the Wind is a melodramatic big-screen soap that exemplifies director Douglas Sirk's signature stylistic flourishes. It is filled with bright colors, exaggerated sets that don't hide their artificiality, and over-the-top performances courtesy of Stack and Malone (who won a Supporting Actress Oscar). In contrast to their co-stars, Rock Hudson and Lauren Bacall take a low-key approach. That works well for Hudson, but not Lauren Bacall, whose character fades into the background after a promising introduction. Sirk's fans contend that he wanted to subvert American postwar materialism through his films. I prefer to view his work as character-driven stories told on a broad, bright canvas. Written on the Wind lacks the polish of Sirk's best dramas (All That Heaven Allows, Imitation of Life), but I do love the opening (and closing) scene where dead leaves blow into Stack's house through an open door. Incidentally, Wilder's novel was loosely based on the R.J. Reynolds family and dealt with the tobacco industry in North Carolina. For the film adaptation, the setting was changed to Texas and the family business to oil.

We Name the Cast...You Name the Movie!

This month, we're hosting a different game at the Café! For each movie below, we have listed three performers that appeared in it (not necessarily as a star). Your task is to name the movie! As always, please answer no more than questions per day so more people can play and have fun. Try not to research your answers as it'd be pretty easy to google the cast and get a film's title. We avoided really obscure movies and lesser-known actors and actresses. 

1. Walter Matthau, Victoria Principal, Lloyd Nolan.

2. Strother Martin, Robert Duvall, John Fiedler.

3. Strother Martin, Heather Menzies Urich, Dirk Benedict (spelling counts on this one!).

4. George Kennedy, Lois Nettleton, Jack Elam.

5. Shelley Winters, Ray Collins, Edmund O'Brien.

6. Elizabeth Taylor, Edmund Gwenn, Martin Milner.

7. Dana Andrews, Richard Basehart, Anne Francis.

8. Donald Crisp, Barry Fitzgerald, Roddy McDowall.

9. Anne Francis, Walter Pidgeon, Lee Marvin.

10. Jessica Tandy, George Sanders, Cornel Wilde.

11. Janet Leigh, Mary Astor, Ellen Corby.

12. Janet Leigh, DeForest Kelly, Rory Calhoun.

13. Glynis Johns, Marlene Dietrich, James Stewart.

14. Gloria Grahame, Keenan Wynn, Dean Stockwell.

15. Brock Peters, Chuck Connors, Edward G. Robinson.

The All-American and Yankee Pasha

Publicity still with Mamie Van Doren & Tony Curtis.

All American (1953). Tony Curtis headlines as Nick Bonelli, a star quarterback who transfers to a different university to pursue his interest in architecture after his parents die in a car crash. He faces various challenges and conflicts at his new school, both academically and romantically, and eventually decides to play football again--much to the delight of his new school. All American (aka The Winning Way) is a typical 1950s sports drama, with a predictable plot and stereotypical characters. That doesn't mean it's not an entertaining way to spend 83 minutes. It was clearly intended to provide acting experience for its young cast. Although Tony Curtis is the only one that became a big star, his fellow players include such familiar faces as Lori Nelson (Revenge of the Creature), Mamie Van Doren, Stuart Whitman, and Richard Long (who comes as close to playing an unlikable character as he ever did). Van Doren fares best as a bar waitress who is secretly involved with rich college student Long. It's nice to see her in an appealing role, as opposed to the sexpot types she later played (she also appeared with Tony Curtis in the earlier Forbidden). Sports fans may also spot cameos from real-life football stars Frank Gifford, Tom Harmon (Marks' father), and Jim Sears.

Yankee Pasha (1954). Set in New England in 1800, Yankee Pasha stars Jeff Chandler as Jason Starbuck, a fur trapper who falls in love with the beautiful Roxana (Rhonda Fleming). When Roxana sails to France to escape an unwanted marriage to another man, her ship is captured by pirates and she is sold as a slave in Morocco. Jason follows her across the ocean and infiltrates the royal palace, where he becomes a valued advisor to the sultan--all the while plotting to rescue Roxana. Based on Edison Marshall's 1947 novel, Yankee Pasha is a colorful, if modestly budgeted, adventure with a dash of humor. Chandler and Fleming are agreeable, photogenic leads who let their supporting stars deliver all the good lines. Lee J. Cobb seems to be having fun as the sultan, while Mamie Van Doren shows off her comedic skills as the only member of Starbuck's harem. The film's first two-thirds zip along nicely, but then it inexplicitly lumbers to its conclusion with a conventional, boring rescue. By then, though, Yankee Pasha has built enough goodwill so that you'll overlook its ending and remember it fondly. (You can watch Yankee Pasha for free on the Western Film Classics channel by clicking here.)

The Case for Anatomy of a Murder

Stewart as Biegler pleads his case.

Anatomy of a Murder is the best courtroom drama ever made.

Otto Preminger’s enthralling motion picture requires multiple viewings to be fully appreciated. When I first saw it, I focused on the riveting story, which treats the viewer much like the jury. We listen to testimonies, watch the lawyers try to manipulate our emotions, and struggle to make sense of the evidence. When I saw Anatomy of a Murder a second time, I knew the case’s outcome and was to able to concentrate on the splendid performances. James Stewart, Arthur O’Connell, and George C. Scott earned Oscar nominations, but the rest of the cast is also exceptionally strong. In subsequent viewings, I’ve come to appreciate the film’s well-preserved details, from the small town upper-Michigan atmosphere to Preminger’s brilliant direction (e.g., in one shot, as Scott's prosecutor cross-examines a witness in close-up, Stewart—the defending lawyer—is framed between them in the background).

Lee Remick and George C. Scott.

The opening scenes quickly establish Stewart’s shrewd lawyer. After ten years as Iron City’s public prosecutor, Paul Biegler has lost his office and gone into private practice. He’s also lost his passion for the law—he spends most of his time fishing, playing the piano, smoking Italian cigars, and reading old cases with his elderly, alcoholic friend Parnell Emmett McCarthy (O’Connell). His life takes a dramatic turn when he eventually agrees to defend Lieutenant Frederick Manion (Ben Gazzara), who is being tried for the murder of a man who may have raped Manion’s wife Laura (Lee Remick). Manion doesn’t deny killing the man, whom he shot five times. His lack of remorse, his wife Laura’s open sexuality, and the couple’s coldness toward one another tip the scales against them from the start.

Perhaps, it’s those very drawbacks that attract Biegler to the case. With a newly sober McCarthy assisting him, Biegler builds his defense around an old Michigan case in which a man was acquitted of murder because he acted out of “irresistible impulse.” As a psychiatrist (Orson Bean in a great bit part )  explains on the stand, it didn’t matter if Manion knew the difference between right and wrong. He was compelled to act (in the words of another witness, he was a “like a mailman delivering the mail”).

Saul Bass's opening credits as justly famous.

Once the drama shifts to the courtroom, an already-engrossing story seems to shift into a higher gear. The sparring between Stewart and Scott, as an ambitious assistant state attorney, is played to perfection. Remick has a splendid scene as Scott interrogates her on the witness stand. Joseph Welch provides welcome dry humor as the judge, who seems more like a referee trying to keep two fighters from killing each other. Interestingly, Welch was a former Army lawyer who participated in the McCarthy hearings; his real-life wife also appears in Anatomy as one of the jurors.

At the time of its release, Anatomy of a Murder was quite controversial, much of it stemming from the frank discussion of the crime. Preminger seemed to relish in breaking barriers on film content. His sex comedy The Moon Is Blue (1953) shocked audiences with its plot about older men (David Niven and William Holden) pursuing a young virgin. Preminger’s The Man With the Golden Arm (1955) was one of the first mainstream films about drug addiction.

Our favorite Preminger works are the film noir classic Laura (1944), Bunny Lake Is Missing (1965), and, of course, this one. You may disagree with me on whether it's the finest courtroom drama, but I'm not alone in my assessment. Back in 2021, I interviewed Michael Asimow, a professor at the Santa Clara Law School and co-author of Real to Reel: Truth and Trickery in Courtroom Movies. When I asked him what film did the best job of presenting a case realistically, he replied: "Our all-time favorite is Anatomy of a Murder. Almost all of it is a gripping murder trial, with two great lawyers going after each other, full of twists and turns and with an ambiguous ending. Watch this movie—you’ll be amazed at how good it is."

The Alternate Movie Title Game (James Stewart Edition)

Here are the rules: We will provide an "alternate title" for a James Stewart film and ask you to name the actual film. Most of these are pretty easy. Please answer no more than three questions per day so others can play. You may have an answer other than the intended one--just be able to defend it!

1. The Andersons.

2. Me and My Pooka.

3. The Manion Case.

4. The Killer Clown.

5. The Man With One Eye.

6. The Reindeer.

7. Bell on the Saddle.

8. I Spy, You Spy.

9. Matuschek and Company.

10. Desert Wings.

11. The Pollster.

12. Cat and Mouse (this one might be difficult).

13. Teenager Troubles.

14. Vindicator.

15. Trapped Beneath the Waves.

The High and the Mighty and Skyjacked

John Wayne as "Whistling" Dan Roman.

The High and the Mighty (1954). When a passenger airliner en route from Honolulu to Los Angeles experiences engine problems, the pilot faces a critical decision: Does he attempt a dangerous landing in the ocean and hope the Coast Guard can rescue the passengers? Or does he try to make it to the closest airport in San Francisco—even as the plane starts leaking fuel? Directed by former fighter pilot William A. Wellman, The High and the Mighty is considered the granddaddy of the modern disaster film. The now familiar formula augments the tense scenes with a menagerie of characters with background stories of varying interest. Their tales range from a newlywed couple facing the realities of married life to an armed husband who thinks his wife is cheating on him with another passenger. The airplane's crew has its challenges, too, with the lead pilot (Robert Stack) coping with aviation fatigue. There's even the proverbial child on the plane--though, unlike future young passengers--he seems pretty healthy! Bolstered by Dimitri Tiomkin's Oscar-winning score and John Wayne's steady, low-key performance, The High and the Mighty overcomes its weaker characters and subplots (e.g., a gun fired in-flight is quickly forgotten). The result is an engaging film that overstays its welcome at a bloated running time of almost two-and-a-half hours. Here's some interesting trivia: Tiomkin also earned an Oscar nomination for Best Song, though the lyrics are only heard briefly at the end. The tune, with different words, became a pop hit.

Yvette Mimieux and Charlton Heston.

Skyjacked (1972). The first theatrical film inspired by the 1970 blockbuster Airport was not, surprisingly, one of the three Airport sequels. Instead, it was Skyjacked, an satisfactory all-star disaster film based on a David Harper novel. The "all-stars" aren't of the same caliber as Airport, with Charlton Heston on-hand as the only big name star. Still, the best part of Skyjacked is its mix of familiar faces (Yvette Mimeux, Claude Akins, Mariette Hartley), TV stars (Susan Dey, James Brolin), and classic film icons (Walter Pidgeon, Jeanne Crain). The plot concerns a potential bomb aboard a commercial jet flying to Minneapolis. The hijacker, whose identity remains a mystery for the film's first half, wants the flight diverted to Alaska--and then on to the Soviet Union. The film might have been more fun if the hijacker's identity was a surprise, but it's obvious from the beginning. John Guillermin, who would go on to direct the disaster movie megahit The Towering Inferno (1975), keeps the pacing tight for much of the film. However, it lags toward the end, with a flashback romantic subplot involving Heston's pilot and Mimieux's flight attendant adding nothing to the story. Still, Skyjacked makes an interesting pairing with Airport 1975Airport 1975, in which Heston plays a pilot-turned-instructor that gets involved in the rescue of a jet damaged in flight.

12 Great World War II Movies of the 1960s...and How to Watch Them for Free

Lee Marvin in The Dirty Dozen.

Last year, I asked my 27,000 (awesome) Twitter followers to rate eleven of the finest World War II films of the 1960s. I wanted to keep my survey to a reasonable length, but it was tough to cut off the list at eleven. In fact, I initially tried to keep it at ten, but I just couldn't do it!

The reason is simple: The 1960s was an amazing decade for first-rate films set during World War II. Although Hollywood produced war movies during the 1940s and the 1950s, the number of major war movies exploded in the 1960s. There were films with big budgets and all-star casts (The Longest Day) as well as intimate pictures with rising stars (Hell Is for Heroes). There were fact-based movies (Battle of the Bulge) and espionage thrillers (36 Hours). Some films focused on daring escapes (Von Ryan's Express, The Great Escape), while others focused on daring missions (The Guns of Navarone, The Dirty Dozen, Where Eagles Dare). There were films about the U.S. Army, the U.S. Navy (In Harm's Way), and the British Royal Air Force (Battle of Britain).

Steve McQueen in The Great Escape.

Interestingly, actors from The Magnificent Seven appeared in a bunch of 1960s war films: Steve McQueen, James Coburn, and Charles Bronson in The Great Escape; McQueen and Coburn in Hell Is for Heroes; McQueen in The War Lover; Coburn in What Did You Do in the War, Daddy?; Bronson in The Dirty Dozen and Battle of the Bulge; Brad Dexter in Von Ryan's Express and None But the Brave; Robert Vaughn in The Bridge at Remagen; and Yul Brynner in The Battle of Neretva, Triple Cross, and Morituri.

Now, without further ado, here's my list of the 11 Best World War II Films of the 1960s, as ranked by the smartest film buffs on Twitter. I have also included a twelfth film, The Train with Burt Lancaster, because it was mentioned frequently in the responses to my original tweet. Twitter movie guru @CED_LD_Guy secured the rights to make these movies available on his channel on Rumble (which is similar to YouTube). I've added the links for you, so just click on a title below to watch the movie without ads for free! To view a film on your television, you'll need to add the Rumble app to your streaming device or smart TV and subscribe the channel (which is also free). If you want more information on how to do that, leave a comment below.

The Great Escape (1963) - Prisoners of war tunnel their way to freedom in this blockbuster starring James Garner, Steve McQueen, Charles Bronson, David McCallum, Donald Pleasance, Richard Attenborough, and James Coburn.

The Dirty Dozen (1967) - An Army major (Lee Marvin) has to train 12 military convicts for a deadly mission behind enemy lines.

The Longest Day (1962) - Daryl F. Zanuck produced this all-star epic about the D-Day landings at Normandy on June 6, 1944.

The Guns of Navarone (1961) - A team of commandos go undercover to destroy two large German cannons positioned strategically on Navarone Island. Based on an Alistair MacLean novel.

Where Eagles Dare (1968) - Another Alistair MacLean thriller provides the basis for this exciting tale about commandos tasked with rescuing a captured U.S. general from a mountain-top stronghold--but all is not as it seems.

Von Ryan's Express (1965) - Prisoners of war escape and hijack a train, racing through occupied Italy to their freedom in Switzerland. Check out my review.

Battle of the Bulge (1965) - This all-star epic is loosely based on the title battle, which lasted for several weeks near the end of World War II. The cast includes Henry Fonda, Robert Shaw, Robert Ryan, and Telly Savalas.

Battle of Britain (1969) - The Royal Air Force and the German Luftwaffe fight for control of the skies over Great Britain in this all-star picture starring Michael Caine, Trevor Howard, Laurence Olivier, Ralph Richardson, Michael Redgrave, Christopher Plummer and many more.

In Harms Way (1965) - Otto Preminger explores the lives of naval officers and their wives stationed in Hawaii in the months following the attack on Pearl Harbor.

Hell Is for Heroes (1962) - A small squad of U.S. soldiers must hold off an advancing German company until reinforcements can arrive. The cast includes McQueen, Coburn, Fess Parker, Bobby Darin, and Bob Newhart.

36 Hours (1964) - On the eve of the Normandy invasion, an American intelligence officer (James Garner) gets thunked on the head during a clandestine rendezvous with a spy. He awakes in an Allied military hospital five years later and is told he has been suffering bouts of amnesia. Or is he? Check out my review.

The Train (1964) - The French Resistance seeks to stop a train loaded with art treasures stolen by the Nazis.

The Alternate Movie Title Game (Sci Fi Edition)

Here are the rules: We will provide an "alternate title" for a film and ask you to name the actual film. Most of these are pretty easy. Please answer no more than three questions per day so others can play. You may have an answer other than the intended one--just be able to defend it!

1. They’re Here Already!

2. Robby & Timmie.

3. The Computer That Ruled the World.

4. Eloi Ahoy!

5. Code Name: Wildfire. 

6. Escape from Metaluna. 

7. Talleah of Venus. 

8. The Mysterious Adam Hart.

9. Dewey, Huey, and Louie.

10. The Sky Is on Fire.

11. I Am a Book.

12. We Are the Martians!

13. The Mirror Earth.

14. The Teleporter Disaster.

15. A City of Three People.

Love Is a Ball and A Big Hand for the Little Lady

Love Is a Ball (1963).  I thought I had seen every 1960s romantic comedy until the blandly-titled Love Is a Ball popped up on the cable channel Screenpix. It stars Charles Boyer as Etienne Pimm, a matchmaker who is part Pygmalion and part con artist. He specializes in pairing titled, but financially poor, European aristocrats with wealthy potential spouses. The catch is that the latter have no idea that they're the "target" of a matchmaking scheme. Pimm's latest client is Duke Gaspard Ducluzeau (Ricardo Montalbán), who not only lacks wealth...he also lacks sophistication. To address Gaspard's deficiencies, Pim hires three men to teach Gaspard how to speak properly, how to drive fast cars and play polo, and how to eat fine food. Problems arise, though, when heiress Millie Mehaffey (Hope Lange) becomes attracted to one of Gaspard's teachers, former race car driver John Davis (Glenn Ford). The first half of Love Is a Ball moves along at a merry pace--and who knew that Ricardo Montalbán could be so funny? Inevitably, the focus shifts to the romance between Millie and John, who are the film's least interesting characters (and seem like a poor match to boot). Shot mostly on-location on the French Riveria, Love Is a Ball is a mildly pleasant romcom that overstays its welcome and mostly wastes the fine performances of Boyer, Montalbán, and Telly Savalas. Director and co-writer David Swift fared better at Disney where he made Pollyanna (1960) and The Parent Trap (1961). In Paul Mayersberg's book Hollywood, the Haunted House, Swift stated that Glenn Ford "approaches his craft like a twelve-year-old temperamental child." Needless to say, they never worked together again.

A Big Hand for the Little Lady (1966).  Well, this is one of those movies that you can discuss with a "spoiler alert" warning. Or, one can tread very carefully when describing the plot. I will opt for the latter in discussing this deceiving Western about an annual high-stakes poker game involving the five richest men in Laredo. Even though the whole town knows about the big event, no one else is allowed to participate, watch it, or even stay informed about the current standings. That changes when a farming family passes through town and is forced to spend the night after a wagon wheel breaks. Meredith, the family patriarch, is a recovering gambling addict with a hefty bankroll--to be used on a purchasing a farm. However, he succeeds in getting a seat at the poker table and proceeds to bet his family's nest egg on what he claims is to a sure-fire winning hand. There is a lot of gamesmanship going on in Big Hand for the Little Lady and your enjoyment of the movie will hinge on your acceptance of the ending. I was pleasantly surprised on my first viewing many years ago, but the plot struggled to hold my interest in subsequent viewings. The cast almost overpowers the premise with solid work from Joanne Woodward, Henry Fonda, Jason Robards, Kevin McCarthy, and a slew of familiar faces. (I recognized the young actor that plays Meredith's son from Samuel Fuller's fascinating The Naked Kiss.) Director Fielder Cook and screenwriter Sidney Carroll based on A Big Hand for the Little Lady on "Big Deal in Laredo," a 1962 episode of the one-hour TV series anthology The DuPont Show of the Week. It starred Walter Matthau and Teresa Wright in the Fonda and Woodward roles. I haven't seen it, but wonder if the shorter running time might have strengthened the premise.

Dean Jones, Walt Disney, and a Quartet of Monkeys (or rather, Chimps)

Yvette Mimieux with one of the chimps.

We've been on a Disney movie run at the Cafe, revisiting some of the studio’s lesser-known live action films. There have been some pleasant surprises (Emil and the Detectives) and a few major disappointments (Dick Van Dyke wasted in Never a Dull Moment). The incorrectly-titled Monkeys, Go Home! falls somewhere in the middle.

The title tune, a breezy piece featuring lush strings, sounds more like a romantic comedy than a family film. And despite the presence of some playful chimpanzees, that's just what Monkeys, Go Home is.

Dean Jones stars as Hank Dussard, an American who has inherited an olive farm in a small French provincial town. He actually knows very little about harvesting olives, so he's surprised when the local priest informs him that the olives fall from the trees and have to be picked up from the ground by children or women because of their light touch (I'm still researching whether this is true).

Maurice Chevalier in his final role.

Father Sylvain (Maurice Chevalier) recommends that Hank get married and have lots of children. Of course, that strategy doesn't account for the fact that the children won't be old enough to pick olives for several years! It also makes Hank, who is already leery about marriage, initially distant when a pretty local woman (Yvette Mimieux) takes an interest in him.

Instead, Hank hatches on to an unconventional plan. He buys four female chimpanzees that he trained for NASA space missions. He figures if they can learn to become astronauts, they can learn how to pick olives.

I saw Monkeys, Go Home! at the theater when I was probably 10 years old. It'd be intriguing to go back in time and ask my younger self what I thought of it. Except for a handful of scenes with the cavorting chimps, I can't imagine any kid being entertained for long.

Dean Jones as Hank.

As a 1960s romantic comedy, Monkeys might have worked better with a different star. I like Dean Jones, but he comes across as a little cold and pragmatic as Hank. A lead with more inner warmth might have worked better, say, James Garner.

Yvette Mimeux isn't required to do much, but look adorable (which she does) and act sweet (ditto!). If you want to see a good example of her acting chops, you'll have to track down the very un-Disney Jackson County Jail (which garnered recognition, too, for her young co-star Tommy Lee Jones).

As you may have noticed, the title of the film is quite misleading. Chimpanzees are not monkeys; they are great apes and related to gorillas and orangutans. Apparently, the Disney executives just didn't understand the difference. Their earlier comedy, The Monkey's Uncle, also featured a chimp. Hey, no one would call Lancelot Link a monkey!

The Alternate Movie Title Game (April 2024)

Here are the rules: We will provide an "alternate title" for a film and ask you to name the actual film. Most of these are pretty easy. Please answer no more than three questions per day so others can play. You may have an answer other than the intended one--just be able to defend it!

1. Running in the Sand.

2. The Man from Z.O.W.I.E.

3. A Man Called Harmonica.

4. Jo and Meg and Beth and Amy.

5. Music Shop Pen Pals.

6. The Town That Became Glad.

7. Eight Dozen and Five Dogs.

8. Looking for Moose's Girlfriend.

9. The Dancing Welder.

10. The Linen Wall of Jericho.

11. The Pie's Big Race.

12. I Saw a Big Bug in the Sewer.

13. Smithy Forgets.

14. The Tunnel King.

15. Car vs. Truck.

Klute and Tender Mercies

Donald Sutherland and Jane Fonda.

Klute (1971). When a businessman suddenly disappears and obscene letters are found among his work papers, the man's wife hires private detective John Klute to conduct an investigation. Klute (Donald Sutherland) quickly learns that the mystery centers around part-time NYC prostitute Bree Daniels (Jane Fonda), the intended recipient of the letters. Bree doesn't remember the missing man, but thinks he could have been a client that beat her up years earlier--and may be stalking her now. More character study than psychological thriller, Klute earned Jane Fonda a Best Actress Oscar for her performance and garnered a nomination for its screenplay. The decision to reveal the villain's identity barely 45 minutes into the movie is an interesting one. Unlike Hitchcock's Vertigo, that knowledge doesn't generate any tension. Rather, it robs Klute of its potential as a whodunit (though the villain's identity is obvious from the beginning, so perhaps that's irrelevant). Clearly, the writers and director Alan J. Pakula are more interested in exploring what makes Bree and Klute tick. In Bree's case, they take the direct approach by including her therapy sessions with her psychiatrist. These monologues provide an acting field day for Fonda, though the character insights are strictly Psychology 101 (e.g., Bree's "tricks" make her feel like she controls her interactions with men for a brief period). As a result, the more interesting character is the quiet and always watchful John Klute. Relentless in his investigation, the introspective detective shows his patience as he develops feelings towards Bree and eventually pierces her self-defensive veneer. Sutherland gives a compelling portrayal and it's a shame that his acting was not as widely recognized as Fonda's. She is very good, but Sutherland is the reason to watch Klute--after all, the movie was named after his character. 

Duvall as Mac Sledge.

Tender Mercies (1983).  After a night of heavy drinking, Mac Sledge (Robert Duvall), a washed-up, alcoholic country singer, wakes up at an isolated Texas roadside motel and gas station. The owner, a young widow named Rosa Lee (Tess Harper), allows him work in exchange for room and board. Mac slowly rebuilds his life, creating a family with Rosa Lee and her young son Sonny and even recording music again. Like its protagonist, Tender Mercies is a quiet, slow-moving film that finds emotional resonance in its simplicity. Director Bruce Beresford lovingly captures the rustic setting with the wind whistling gently across the plains. Robert Duvall delivers a low-key, natural performance that earned him a Best Actor Oscar (the motion picture, Beresford, and screenwriter Horton Foote were nominated as well). Although it's a film about redemption, writer Foote ensures that Tender Mercies avoids easy resolutions. Mac's relationship with his ex-wife remains full of friction and his efforts to reconnect with his adult daughter are hindered by tragedy. In the end, Mac finds an inner peace of sorts, but every day will still bring its own challenges so that one has to cherish each moment of contentment.