Me! On the radio! Talking about Casablanca!

If you advance to the 34:00 mark on this YouTube video, you'll see me chatting with genial host Craig Cohen on the HoustonMatters podcast about Casablanca — a movie that means a lot to me.

You see, one of the first movies my late wife Anne and I saw together was Casablanca — on the big screen, the way God intended us to see it — back in the 1970s, at a New Orleans rep house. We watched and rewatched it countless times over the course of our time together because, well, it was our favorite movie. Indeed, “I’m shocked – shocked! -- to find that gambling is going on in here!” became one of our private-joke movie quotes that we tossed at each other forever afterwards. Especially while we were watching newscasts, and some phony-baloney politician would appear on camera to claim they had little or no knowledge of misbehavior by underlings (or close relatives).

 So I can’t tell you how happy I am to share Casablanca it with the River Oaks 3 Theater audience – on the big screen! – August 27, just one day short of what should have been our 50th anniversary. Here’s looking at you, Anne!

The Dead is my favorite John Huston movie

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Why is The Dead my favorite John Huston film? Well, I could direct you to my original review of Huston's adaptation of the classic James Joyce story. Or I could just show you the final scene. Back in the day: I cried so hard at the end of this movie, two colleagues had to help me out of the theater. No kidding.

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Birthday Greetings to Billy Bob Thornton

 

Wishing a very happy birthday to the Landman himself, Billy Bob Thornton, whom I had the pleasure and privilege of interviewing last winter in Crockett, Texas — shortly before his Ritz Theatre concert with his band The Boxmasters.

“I can always tell the husbands who got dragged here by their wives,” Thornton told me with a mischievous grin. “They just sit there with their arms folded while their wives want to dance.” 

He laughed out loud when I told him he had a small role in one of the very first movies I ever reviewed for Variety — Chopper Chicks in Zombietown. But he laughed even harder when I asked him about appearing opposite Sam Elliott, who plays his father in Landman — despite being only 11 years older than Thornton. 

Elliott is “a friend and a mentor,” Thornton said. “But I have to say — sometimes we’ll be doing a scene where I don’t have much dialogue, and my attention drifts, and I’ll get obsessed with looking at Sam Elliott’s mustache or something. Like, I’ll just be staring and then all of a sudden they’ll say, ‘Your line. Your line.’ And I’m like, ‘Huh?’ And then I go, ‘Oh yeah, this is wonderful chicken-fried steak.’ Or whatever it is.” 

You can read my Cowboys & Indians Magazine interview with Thornton here. And here is my favorite song by The Boxmasters — “She Looks Like Betty Page.”

It Was 34 Years Ago Today: Unforgiven Premiered in Los Angeles

 

The retired gunfighter who must return to his bloody business one last time. The hotheaded youngster who must back up his bragging when push comes to shove. The small-town sheriff who must face down the hired killers riding his way. The brutally wronged woman who must rely on the firepower of a steely-eyed stranger.

Unforgiven —  which premiered at the Fox Bruin Theatre in Los Angeles on August 3, 1992 —  abounds in the time-honored archetypes that have been the staples of westerns since the heyday of Tom Mix. Which isn't at all surprising, considering the classic western — the last traditional western to win the Academy Award for Best Picture — came to us from Clint Eastwood, who played a major role in demythologizing many of these elements for the better part of four decades.

You can read my celebration of Unforgiven at Cowboys & Indians Magazine here.

Remebering my friend Bill Albright

 

Just got word this morning that Bill Albright, my best buddy from my old days at The Houston Post (1982-1995), passed away a couple days ago. For more than a decade, we sat literally face to face in the Arts & Entertainment area of the newsroom — he was the theater critic, I covered film — and I often joked that I saw more of him than most of my blood relatives (including my father) during this time. We swapped stories, made rude comments and shared gossip about various individuals (who always had it coming), and occasionally admitted to each other how ridiculously fortunate we were to get paid for doing what we loved.

After the Post shut down, we remained in touch, through sporadic lunches — though not nearly as many as I should have made time to share with him — and much more frequent emails. He was my go-to guy whenever I needed to ask a question about theater, opera and/or classical music, and would ask me about what movies he should check out on streaming platforms. He was a big guy, and could cast an intimidating glare that would shatter reinforced concrete, but he was a big ol’ softie at heart. In the last email I received from him, dated Feb. 17, he shared his response to the most recent film he had watched: “The old Wuthering Heights. Sniff.” I had no trouble at all imagining him getting teary-eyed as he watched the spirits of Heathcliff and Cathy reunite at last.

A week or two before that, he shared this comment: “Abraham Lincoln said watching Melania was the worst experience he’s ever had in a theater.” My response: “You bad.” His rejoinder: “And proud of it.”

My favorite Bill story: Way back when Operation Desert Shield was just about to escalate into Desert Storm, an editor a named Ernie Williamson (also gone but not forgotten) wandered over to our desks to talk about the situation, and his own Vietnam experiences. I admitted that I had managed to get a 4F exemption while I was in college — and I will tell you only enough of the story so that the punchline makes sense. While I was attending LSUNO (now known as University of New Orleans), a young woman I was casually dating at the time told me she was pregnant, and I was the father, so I helped her obtain a then-illegal abortion. I found out later that she had lied – my gun shoots blanks. At the time, though, I was still a reasonably good Catholic, and the experience shook me so badly that the campus shrink wrote a letter to the draft board stating I was in no mental shape to serve in the military.

I ended the story this way: “So I guess I’m the only person you’ll ever meet who dodged the draft by fucking.”

Beat.

“Well,” Bill noted dryly, “fucking a woman.”

Ernie nearly doubled over with laughter. I nearly fell out of my seat laughing. But Bill only flashed a wicked smile. Because, hey, he was a bad, bad boy.

It’s been way too long since Bill and I had lunch, and I was hoping to remedy that when I returned from SXSW later this month. You always think you’ll have enough time. But sometimes — too many times, really — you don’t.