Grand Bette, Outside Guignol

DATELINE: All-Star Schlock!

 Miss Bette Davis.

Harold Robbins is a name you don’t hear much anymore. He wrote some of the trashiest, sleaziest, soap-opera sex-scandal novels of the 1960s. And, one of his prize gems was Where Love Has Gone…There is no question mark after it.

Based on this flamboyant mess, love went to the dogs. You may bark out loud, or you may just hoot. The cast will gag you with its sheer perfection. The under-stars are notables and familiar faces that deliver exactly what they knew was needed.

Where do you begin…Whit Bissell as a college professor, DeForrest Kelley as a drama critic, Jane Greer as a social worker, George Macready as a snooty lawyer, Willis Bouchey as a judge: the faces are worth it. And they are mugs of the highest order.

The main cast features Susan Hayward as a version of Lana Turner, and Joey Heatherton as her daughter. The real Lana and daughter were involved in the murder of a mobster boyfriend: Harold Robbins takes the topic and runs with it. He puts cement shoes on Hayward, even as she careens through the hills of San Fran like Steve McQueen.

Bette Davis is grand. She had played a series of hags in the 1960s, and she was offered the role of a rich, aristocratic monster, in beautiful clothes and looking magnificent. She jumped at it, and she delivered lines like no one in the world! There is only one Miss Davis.

The movie is melodramatic stinker set in San Francisco with its Golden Gate everywhere. Mike Connors is a Medal of Honor winning war hero and architect, and Susan Hayward is a rich sculptor—and to see her in goggles trying to chisel is worth the entire movie price.

It’s so tawdry and over-sensational that you will not believe the dialogue or the portrait slashing performance of its star. If you are housebound with viral threats, you need escapism of this level. They don’t make’em like this anymore. What a pity!

 

 

 

 

Democrats Self-Destruct in Nevada

DATELINE: Debate of Loser Status

 Hands Up!

What did we learn at the Democrat Nevada debate? Well, we learned most of all that the new candidate is not even on the Nevada caucus ballot this week. So much for voter input.

Beyond that, we learned too too much in all likelihood about what unpleasant people are running for president.

We learned that these candidates are filled with animosity, if not outright hatred, of Mike Bloomberg. And, we learned that they are so petty and set in their ways that not one of them will defeat Donald Trump.

You can start with Warren who showed her true colors, that of an ambitious person so angry that she would likely geld most men in the nation.

We saw an aging, demented Sanders who chokes on the idea that he is a millionaire who pretends to be a socialist. He also hates anyone with more money than he. He also hides his medical records like he has Trump’s tax attorney.

We saw some smaller candidates like Mayor Pete and Amy who have no chance in hell of being taken seriously. And we watched Joe Biden continue to go down for the third time, about ten times.

What a small-minded and unpleasant bunch.

And, they are prepared to attack, like the conspirators of Cassius, the billionaire who might actually win. The other billionaire never took such heat—and Tom Steyer wasn’t even allowed on stage this week.

Apparently, the Democrats have one fixed rule: only one billionaire at a time.

What a fiasco.

 

Kissing Bugs in Sheep’s Clothing?

DATELINE: Creepy?

Creepy Touch

A generation of touchy/feely men are about to have their kind hearts executed at dawn by a bunch of “insulted” or “disgusted” people. Yup, it’s creepy and it’s kooky, and altogether spooky.

Potential presidential candidate and former Vice President Joe Biden shall remain nameless, but not guiltless in this regard.

Yes, there are those men who instantly and impulsively reach out to those around them, in moments of crisis, happiness, or sorrow, and hug, hold hands, or lay on a paternalistic  kiss.

They now have been given a bad rap, and the rap on the knuckles may sting as they pull back from showing any emotional reaction.

This is not to be confused with grabbing someone in a distinctly and disgustingly sexual manner. We all recall the famous bus-trip tapes of Trump’s manner to seduce women.

That is a different kettle to call black-face in metaphor.

No, we express wonder about impulsive men who deign to express their feelings in public. It looks like the late charges are being assessed in absentia, or after the statute of limitation has exceeded its grasp.

You may well ask how intimidating or harassing can it be to reach out and touch someone under the throes of media attention. What might have been construed as scratching the puppy behind the ears now takes on a sinister abusive nature, however latent. This is akin to an alcoholic drinking in public, or worse: playing patty-cakes.

It may be time to end the chest-bumps, the high-fives, the low-fives, pecks on the cheek, a man-hug, and tip-toe through the tulips from afar.

We were never demonstrative physically, thank heavens, and now feel pity for those poor souls who over the years felt compelled to demonstrate their affection and/or goodwill. It was always in bad taste, in our opinion. Now it appears to be the actions of a puppy who has wet the carpet.

 

 

 

 

Hillary Clinton’s Running Mate?

DATELINE:  Hot Tickets

 

Our dear friend and Home Health Aide is not an American citizen, but rather has been granted asylum and is legally living in the United States.

He has a strong belief in the American Dream—and, like many, wants America to be strong and to succeed. He follows politics in the U.S. with the keen eye of someone who loves the country.

He cannot vote until he achieves citizenship, but he takes a great interest in learning from debates and primaries. He disagrees with our choice to make America great again. He thinks Mr. Trump is “too fresh” to be POTUS, and we don’t think he is referring to vegetables in the fridge.

His choice is Hillary Clinton, which makes us smile in disagreement.

Today he came up with an idea he wishes he could tell Hillary about. He thinks she needs an equally “fresh” running mate to counter Donald Trump.

To that end, he has suggested something surprising and without historical precedent. Garry Matador, lately of the United States, but a homegrown product of Haiti, wants Secretary Clinton to choose Joe Biden to be her vice president.

In some ways, it makes sense and is downright brilliant. We have heard Hillary bark (indeed Trump is using it in his latest commercials). She needs a hound of the Baskervilles. There is no one more qualified than Joe Biden to be vice president. He has learned on the job during two administrations.

Fresh ideas often come from people new the country—and we promised him to pass this along to others who may find it equally compelling.

What a hot ticket my friend is.