I’ll Bring the Kleenex

I hope you readers took the time to view the last YouTube clip in my “What a Dog” blog. It showed the ingénue, Cameron Diaz, in the role of a nightclub performer who dropped men’s jaws and induced howls and whistles. An actress only gets to be an ingénue once, and Cameron made the most of it. I tried to divert your attention from her clinging, shimmering gold sequined dress to the sexily dubbed singing voice, but once she let her fingers play down the right side of that dress, who could notice the voice? Perhaps ingénue is not the correct word as it implies naiveté and innocence more than newness to acting. Lauren Bacall, 50 years earlier, was a similarly sultry ingénue in her first role as Slim in “To Have and Have Not”. She even taught her man, Humphrey Bogart, how to whistle:

You know you don't have to act with me, Steve. You don't have to say anything, and you don't have to do anything. Not a thing. Oh, maybe just whistle. You know how to whistle, don't you, Steve? You just put your lips together and... blow.

Diaz and Miss Bacall had similar beginnings. Cameron left the beaches of Southern California at the age of 16, signed on with an agency and spent the next five years as an international model. Bacall began modeling in New York City at the age of 17. She appeared on the cover of Harper’s Bazaar, was noticed by director Howard Hawk’s wife Nancy, was invited to Hollywood for a screen test and the rest is history. Nancy Hawk helped her develop her style in clothes and her trademark seductively low voice. Miss Bacall lured Humphrey Bogart from his wife all on her own.

Cameron went from temptress in The Mask to angel in the Charlie’s Angels movies. She played a ditzy blond on screen and began to play the potty mouthed bad girl off screen and in the Tabloids. I’m sure for her it seemed the right move, but can a woman who used Ben Stiller’s semen as hair mousse (Something About Mary) ever be taken as a serious actress? To her credit, when she doesn’t have to appear in a film, she does a great job. She is a perfect Princess Fiona in the Shrek movies. Sweetness with an edge, and a tolerance for us donkeys.

In my house, Cameron Diaz is best known for one of her lines from Charlie’s Angels, “I love tickets”, which she delivered in response to a potential suitor’s line, “I’ll get tickets”. Though endlessly repeating movie lines is a decidedly male annoyance, even the women in my family will almost smile when I respond, “I love tickets”. And I do, both repeat the line and love tickets. Have you noticed that many of my blogs make references to movies?

Some of my love of the movies is genetic. My father grew up in the pre-TV era and would spend all afternoon Saturdays at the movies for a quarter. The Brooklyn theaters would have serials, Flash Gordon and the like, newsreels, a double feature and contests with prizes for the kids. My maternal grandfather, Julius Davis, loved movies and would laugh and weep audibly, a strange sight for a ten year old me to witness in a public Manhattan theater. My grandmother Florence, who was a very controlling and in control woman, explained that he cried because he had strong emotions that just came out at the movies. Their's was an old world marriage. He practiced medicine, sat in his chair and read newspapers and journals. She managed the home, help, children, social calendar, vacations…basically everything and everyone else. She was always very protective of him. We had to be quiet during his daily nap. We couldn’t sit in his chair. My aunt Dorothy wouldn’t eat lox because my grandparents threatened to put locks on the door if she kept going into my grandfather’s office. After his second heart attack Florence stayed home with him for three months. When she finally thought he was well enough to be home without her, she went out to join her sisters for their weekly card game. He was not home when she returned. A panic followed. The police found him that night in a city hospital morgue. He had been found dead in the back row of a Broadway movie theater. We’ll never know the whole story. No doubt he took advantage of my grandmother’s afternoon out to take a walk on a beautiful summer day. One possible scenario: he developed chest pain and ducked into an air conditioned movie theater to sit down and rest. A second scenario: he liked movies but the one he chose was too much for his weak heart. Either way, he died in a place where his feelings could be freely and openly expressed. I express mine there too. Join me sometime. You can buy the popcorn. I’ll bring the Kleenex.