A frothy delight. Accidentally watched this because we were too lazy to change the channel. Even though we’ve seen it before, it still charms.
Doris Day capers around like a toy poodle in some delectable mid-sixties outfits. James Garner is a perfect leading man. The supporting cast is all aces. Aside from the children, I’m thinking John Astin is the only cast member still with us? May he live forever.
Just two acting powerhouses exercising their go-to skillsets: Joaquin Phoenix is an animalistic, wounded manchild. Philip Seymour Hoffman is a Wellesian, tightly-controlled powderkeg who may be so deeply closeted even he doesn’t know it. Watching them circle each other for 2:17 of period drama is genuinely thrilling.
Random thoughts:
—This was so good I didn’t hate Amy Adams
—“Jesse Plemons is too young to be PSH’s son” I thought, but then I looked it up, and the math mathed. Horrors…
Since this is my umpteenth Jonestown documentary (and that’s not even counting books read as well), I feel I have authority to tell you that this one is pretty flimsy. There is virtually no time spent on the history of Jim Jones, or on what the original ideology of the People’s Temple was and why it may have entranced so many believers. We aren’t even 15 minutes in before Congressman Ryan is getting on an airplane to Guyana. Without the…
In which Marc Bolan and his lupine teeth and Ringo Starr and his prodigious mullet caper about.
I will not go down one of my favorite rabbit holes of “what would Marc Bolan’s career have made of itself had he lived,” I will just remind you as always to keep a little Marc in your heart. 💜
