Valentine's Day is almost here, and I thought that despite my usual disdain for the holiday, I could admit to having a few more romantic movie favorites (see previous post for the Black History Month edition). This is not a complete list, just more that came to mind.
1. Love Actually (2003)
Those who know my aversion to lovey-dovey film pablum may be surprised by my affection for this one. Somehow the film's anthology of romantic kerfuffles is improved by its British accent. A fat valentine of a movie, Love Actually weaves together several plotlines to demonstrate that love of all kinds is truly all around us. It zeroes in on guests at the wedding of Juliet (Keira Knightley) & Peter (Chiwetel Ejiofor), including four siblings: Emma Thompson, a stay-at-home mom who finds evidence that her ad exec husband, played by the late Alan Rickman, is having an affair with his sexy secretary, while his office mate, American Laura Linney, puts love with the art director on the back burner to care for her mentally ill sibling; brother Hugh Grant, England's newly elected bachelor prime minister, finds himself attracted to his bubbly new household manager; brother Liam Neeson, still grieving his wife's death, helps his young stepson capture the heart of an American classmate and re-ignites his joie de vivre; brother Colin Firth, after discovering his girlfriend cheating, decamps to Provence to write his next book and falls for the Portuguese housekeeper who speaks no English.
Dad: Aren't you a little young to fall in love? (Hee hee hee...) Son: No. (Dummy.)
Meanwhile, a couple of young actor body doubles (including The Hobbit's Martin Freeman) meet on-set while simulating a graphic sex scene and proceed to have a conventional romance; a loveless dork heads to America with unrealistic dreams of finding sexual fulfillment abroad that miraculously come true the moment he lands; new bride Juliet (Knightley) is perplexed by the unfriendly behavior of her groom's best man until he reveals his own love for her; and an aging rock star on the comeback trail, played to the raucous hilt by Bill Nighy, realizes that his favorite person in the world is actually his long-suffering manager.
It's a sweet, comical, yet thoughtful film with numerous "that would never happen in real life" moments of coincidence, melodrama and wishful thinking, but somehow the film floats on a sea of its own charm and conviction. And there are some serious moments delivered expertly by the top-notch cast, with tear-inducing performances by the heartsick Thompson, the conflicted Rickman, the lovelorn Linney, and by young Thomas Sangster as Neeson's son. Being British, the script can't help but take swipes at arrogant, entitled America through scenes with Billy Bob Thornton as a sneering U.S. President, but Americans will just have to let the medicine go down amid all the sugar. Set at Christmastime with gorgeous shots of a wintry, holiday-spangled London, Love, Actually has become one of my faves for holiday viewing as well.
2. The Bridges of Madison County (1995)
I am ashamed of myself for this one, but if I see it anywhere on cable, I have to watch to the bitter end. It was a ridiculously sappy, self-indulgent book, and the film would be a snore-worthy slog if not for one thing: Meryl Streep's performance. She plays an Italian war bride in 1965 whose husband and teen children go to the Iowa state fair for a week, leaving her blissfully alone. By chance she meets a recently arrived National Geographic photographer, played by Clint Eastwood, assigned to shoot the local covered bridges. Fascinated by his freewheeling lifestyle and expansive philosophy, sheltered Francesca can't help but fall in love. After a whirlwind affair of evening walks, candlelit dinners, dancing, and lovemaking, Francesca must make a heart-rending decision: leave for a nomadic life of passion with Robert Kincaid, or stay on the farm for a life of duty with the husband and children who need her.
Eastwood is a bit wooden in this role, but perhaps he wasn't as concerned with acting as he was busy directing this lushly photographed, beautifully staged drama featuring an evocative soundtrack of composed music and classic jazz gems (the Johnny Hartman tunes alone are swoon-worthy). It's Meryl Streep's movie, and the Queen of All Accents gets it exactly right. With her hair dyed dark, aproned and barefooted, utilizing European hand gestures, faded Italian accent in place, Streep gives us a woman stoically living with decisions made a long time before with no expectation of change. The dialog doesn't delve into her character's background, but during World War II, living in a country occupied by the U.S. army, Francesca married an American serviceman in exchange for what she believed would be a better life. She left her home, family, friends, and everything she knew to live in a brand new land to learn a new language and new customs, adjust to marriage to a foreign man, bear his children and work his farm. She was likely resigned to this life, and may have thrived in it, until boom! A beautiful stranger lands on the doorstep reeking of romance and excitement. All of this information lives within Streep's calibrated portrayal, which owes more than a bit to the mannerisms of Italian actress Anna Magnani, a towering inferno of '50s-'60s screen acting (see Wild Is The Wind, The Fugitive Kind, or The Rose Tattoo).
The moment I wait to see is when Francesca has packed a bag but still can't take the final step out the door. She clutches Robert in desperation and says, "You must decide for me." Well, she realizes that leaving would be folly and stays. But the next riveting moment comes in town when grocery shopping with her husband, and she sees Robert's truck about to leave forever. The pouring rain stands in for a torrent of inward tears -- hers and ours -- as Francesca has one last inward struggle. Still, she can't leave. But when Robert hangs the silver saint's medal she gave him from his rearview mirror before driving off, Francesca and the audience know that their love will never be forgotten.
The film has a framing device involving her grown children discovering the affair after her death that could easily have been jettisoned, and for some the movie is too long and slow. But for me, this leisurely stroll under the sun of an Iowa summer watching Meryl and Clint is sweet, indeed.
3. Moonrise Kingdom (2013)
And they called it puppy love, just because we're in our teens ...
I grew up fascinated by fairy tales, with their images of enchanted lands, mythological beings, and the impossible made possible through a glorious quest. Having once been a precocious, independent kid, I'm still partial to stories about precocious, independent kids. Thus my nostalgic fondness for Wes Anderson films: the highly stylized children's storybook sets, costumes, makeup, and shot framing; serious, quirky, wise-beyond-their-years youngsters facing off against ridiculous, childlike adults; and the whimsical, episodic adventures to attain love or liberty (Rushmore, The Royal Tenenbaums, The Fantastic Mr. Fox, The Grand Budapest Hotel). Moonrise Kingdom has all of these things. It's a coming of age love story along the lines of the delightful 1979 gem A Little Romance (in which 13-year-old Diane Lane falls in love and runs away from Paris with the 13-year-old son of a French taxi driver to kiss under the Bridge of Sighs in Venice), albeit with a serio-comic tone. Set in a 1965 that is worlds away from The Bridges Of Madison County, the film is like flipping through an album of faded Kodak vacation prints -- all smudged blues, browns, and greens, filmy corals and soft whites. The story concerns a smart but friendless orphan named Sam who meets Suzy, an introverted bookworm, at the annual summer pageant on the fictitious New England island of New Penzance.
After months of exchanging letters, the 12-year-olds meet the following summer on the island and run off together. The disappearance of the youngsters alarms the island's sherriff, played by Bruce Willis, as well as Sam's tightlipped social worker Tilda Swinton, his by-the-book scoutmaster Edward Norton, and his hooligan fellow scouts, not to mention Suzy's self-absorbed lawyer parents, played by Frances McDormand (who's been having an affair with the Willis character) and Anderson habitue Bill Murray. Sam, an expert outdoor survivalist, and Suzy, armed with sewing scissors, manage to evade a group of scouts and their dog after a violent run-in. The eccentric pubescents then have a few idyllic days sharing first kisses, cavorting in their undies, and spooning in a tent by a lagoon in perfect domestic and spiritual harmony before they are discovered and pulled apart by the adults. But it isn't long before Sam escapes his scoutmaster to rescue Suzy and seal their love with a symbolic marriage ceremony performed by a supportive scout captain (Jason Schwartzman) just before a hurricane strikes the island, foiling their getaway plan.
The core of the film is the natural, earnest performances Anderson elicits from young actors Kayra Hayward and Jared Gilman; while the action around them grows increasingly cartoonish and frenetic, the film never mocks nor questions the veracity of Sam and Suzy's feelings, despite their tender age. And neither do Sam and Suzy engage in sugary sentiments or cute banter; they simply interact as kindred spirits who commit their entire beings to each other, come what may. In the end, all of the adults -- including the audience -- are forced to accept Sam and Suzy's forever love as an incontrovertible fact. Director Anderson's style has been criticized as too precious or "twee," but it's still an enchanting and deeply romantic romp.
Honorary mentions to:
1. About Last Night (the 1986 Demi Moore/Rob Lowe original)
2. The Getaway (the 1972 Ali McGraw/Steve McQueen love-on-the-run original)
3. Dr. Zhivago (1965 Russian Revolution-set epic with Julie Christie & Omar Sharif)
4. Annie Hall (1977 Woody Allen & Diane Keaton classic)
5. Out Of Sight (1993 crime caper with heat from Jennifer Lopez & George Clooney)
6. An Officer & A Gentleman (1982, Debra Winger/Richard Gere)
7. Roxanne (yes, the 1987 Steve Martin/Daryl Hannah comedy is highly romantic)
8. True Romance (1993, Tarantino's love-on-the-run fantasia with Patricia Arquette & Christian Slater)
Movie talk from a fan perspective! Veteran entertainment journalist Janine Coveney posts film reviews plus podcast episodes and notes from The Words On Flicks Show.
Friday, February 12, 2016
Wednesday, February 10, 2016
Valentine's Viewing: Black History Month Edition
I have conflicting emotions regarding the holiday named for St. Valentine. A former boyfriend from my teenage years once remarked, "You know what you are? A romantic cynic." And that about sums up my attitude.
I reject as a matter of course the syrup-sodden, pink and red, cutesy-poo Cupidfest that has subsumed our national tribute to romantic love. During times without a significant other, the holiday makes a mockery of my singlehood. Still, even if I am "boo'ed up," I'm flummoxed by the Valentine's thing; the challenge is in how to mark the occasion at a level appropriate to where the relationship stands -- without tumbling over the Cliffs of Sentimentality into a hot cloying pool of Kissy Kitsch. My gag response is too easily triggered.
But underneath my crusty exterior, I'm a softie. A bouquet of posies from that certain someone acknowledging whatever warmth lies between us can definitely melt away this cynical exterior. A cleverly worded missive -- rarely found in the annals of Hallmark -- can make me smile. I too have launched a few of the heart-shaped cards at moving targets over a few Februarys. But my general policy is to carry on as though these public displays aren't necessary or even that practical.
I suffer from a similar gag response when it comes to romantic movies. Anything too stuffed with corn, dipped in schmaltz, or shot through with formulaic sugar is generally to be avoided. So my list of favorite romantic flicks is short. But I'm only human, so there are other films -- corny, schmaltzy, predictable and dripping in Hollywood cliche goo -- that still get under my skin. I'll address those in another post.
Being that February is Black History Month, I thought I'd name a few black romance classics appropriate for Valentine's Day viewing.
(Note: While I enjoyed The Best Man films, Why Did I Get Married, Just Wright, Love And Basketball, Brown Sugar, the About Last Night remake, Jumping The Broom, Something New, and the like, I wouldn't call them classics. At least, not yet.)
1. Love Jones(1997)
Nia Long and Larenz Tate get into a little sumthin' sumthin'
I don't think I've seen a movie before or since that captures contemporary black love in quite such an affecting way. Artsy young Chicago professionals Nina Mosley and Darius Lovejoy -- as played by Nia Long and Larenz Tate -- are great to look at and their chemistry is tangible. In their love scenes, you can feel the yearning, the sizzle, and the lust. The story allows us to see how their romance unfolds through events that we recognize -- the spoken word club, the friend's house party, the badly timed lingering exes, going dancing. It's the dialogue and inclusion of so much of African American culture sets the film apart. Much in the way that another Chicago-set romance that I'm fond of -- 1986's About Last Night with Rob Lowe and Demi Moore -- examines 20something love from every angle and includes a Greek chorus of negativity from those who would break up the lovers for their own selfish reasons, so do Nina and Darius face embittered people and setbacks that almost convince them that love "ain't shit." Doubt, distrust, jealousy, insecurity, missed signals, denial -- it's all there, set to a fantastic, evocative soundtrack melding alternative R&B and classic jazz. In the end, Darius realizes that that elusive joy that you create with that one special person is too precious to throw away, and we know that somehow Nina and Darius are going to work it out even as she leaves on the evening train for New York. Notable for great performances by Lisa Nicole Carson and Isaiah Washington as the respective best friends. Hard to believe the film is almost 20 years old.
2. Claudine (1973)
Diahann Carroll and James Earl Jones get that lovin' feelin'
Some would say that this film represents another kind of '70s blaxploitation, in that it exploits the trope of a black single mother on welfare in the hood who is cheating the system with a maid's job. But I don't care -- Claudine is a gem because it gets real. Hard to believe that movie makers at the time thought Diahann Carroll was a little too glamorous to carry off the title role, but Diahann -- who was raised in Harlem -- hits all the necessary notes as a mother of five who finds herself falling against her better judgment for a garbage man with a raft of problems of his own. Far from the Romeo & Juliet drama of young Harlem lovers like those portrayed by Kevin Hooks and Irene Cara in 1975's Aaron Loves Angela, directed by Gordon Parks Jr., Carroll's Claudine and James Earl Jones' Rupe are hampered by grown folks' problems: troubled and rebellious children, the grind of menial gigs, roach infested dwellings, and the government interference that poor people are sadly all too familiar with -- welfare in Claudine's case and child support in Rupe's. To consider marriage under these conditions would be to throw away everything Claudine has known, including the monthly welfare checks she depends on, and she isn't sure that Rupe will stand by her. But in the end, it's Carroll and Jones making eyes at each other and trying to make an unworkable situation work that convinces you that their love is worth the risk. Black love wins out -- neither the social worker nor the police will stop these two. Curtis Mayfield's soulful and thoughtful score, performed by Gladys Knight & the Pips, adds to the emotion of the film by voicing the thoughts of the characters. "Keep Away From Me, Mr. Welfare," "To Be Invisible," "The Makings Of You," and "Make Yours A Happy Home" are timeless classics.
3. Boomerang (1992)
Eddie Murphy as Marcus: What more would a woman need?
Not a typical romance, Boomerang is a clever, slickly-produced comedy about how complicated the road to love has become in the modern era. Directed by Reggie Hudlin, produced by brother Warrington Hudlin and stuffed with a who's who of African American talent -- Eddie Murphy, Robin Givens, Halle Berry, Eartha Kitt, Chris Rock, Geoffrey Holder, Grace Jones, Martin Lawrence, David Alan Grier, Tisha Campbell, Lela Rochon, John Witherspoon and Melvin Van Peebles -- this is the tale of a notorious Big Apple ladies' man who finally finds the girl who makes him hang up his playboy dancing shoes. The film is a testament to '90s upward mobility as the upscale characters explore dating, racism, the wages of celebrity, and the bonds of male friendship as Eddie Murphy's bad boy ad exec, Marcus, finally learns that it's no fun being on the receiving end of the deceptive seductions he's been doling out to most of the females at the ad agency where he works.
Robin Givens as Jacqueline: "God, Marcus. I was so tense when I got off the plane, but you really relaxed me. See ya."
Robin Givens is perfect as the conniving career woman determined to break Marcus down (I think her next best screen role was as Imabelle in A Rage In Harlem, a tour de force performance in which she is utterly convincing as a 1950s gold-stealing femme fatale who ultimately falls in love with the mild-mannered funeral home assistant played by Forest Whitaker). Eddie Murphy also gives the film some great quieter moments, as in his scenes with Berry and in chopping it up on the issues with his friends. There's a streak of feminism to the film in the way that Givens' Jacqueline and Halle Berry's Angela -- and though played for laughs. even Grace Jones' extreme character Strangé and Eartha Kitt's cosmetics company head Lady Heloise -- are all committed to owning their careers and their sexuality, albeit in very different ways, in a male- dominated world. The sets, costume designs, makeup and smooth soundtrack by Marcus Miller combine to give the flick a shiny immediacy, while the ace performers offer up countless golden moments of comedy that have become oft-repeated classics (some only need one word: "Marrrrrr-cus!" "Coooor-dinate!" "Strang-e!") While Marcus ultimately walks off into the Brooklyn sunset with the Halle Berry character, having professed his love, we're only 99 percent convinced that love really will bring him home the next time he's tempted.
4. For Love Of Ivy (1968)
Abbey Lincoln as Ivy: Ma'am, what part of "I'm leaving" did you not understand?
This romantic comedy is more than a bit dated, but it was a breakthrough coming just four years after the passage of the Civil Rights Act. A black romance that white people could accept, the lighthearted yarn centers on another maid, this time played by stunning vocalist Abbey Lincoln in one of her few screen turns, while the usually upright Sidney Poitier -- just past his Black Saint period in film -- plays a character with a couple of skeletons in his closet. Ivy Moore is the beautiful, dutiful and smart 20something live-in housekeeper for a Long Island businessman played by All In The Family's Carroll O'Connor and his family, including their "hip" 20something son, played by Beau Bridges. (Two years later, Bridges would portray the "hip" son of a rich New York family who buys a Brooklyn brownstone and embeds himself among his black tenants to disastrous results in the simultaneously hilarious and sobering film The Landlord, which also featured the late, great Diana Sands. He has also played the father of Tracee Ellis Ross' Rainbow character in an episode of TV's Blackish.) When Ivy decides that after nine years she's had enough of the maid game and plans to leave to attend secretarial school in New York, the family is sent into a tizzy, because, naturally, they consider her "family" and immediately plot ways to dissuade her. Despite this being a brazen attempt by whites to stop a black woman from liberating herself from servitude or gaining agency over her own future, their meddling is depicted as sweet, loving and in her own best interest. Beau's character decides that what Ivy needs is a suitor who will distract her but not whisk her off. Because, what else would keep a black woman from pursuing her dreams but a man? And a trifling one at that? The son blackmails playboy trucking magnate Jack Parks -- because he may be shady but he's black! -- who reluctantly agrees to take Ivy out on a date. They go but she's a sheltered Southern girl and he's a smooth big city slickster secretly running an illegal casino operation out of the back of his trucks, and it doesn't seem that things will work out. Still, Jack is captivated by Ivy's simple directness, modesty and beauty. For the love of Ivy, Jack is willing to give up his double life. And just in time: In order to take Ivy away with him to New York, Jack hands over the operation of the casino to a pal and is no longer connected when the casino is busted by the police. What saves the movie from complete corniness is the chemistry between Lincoln and Poitier; Lincoln's character may be sheltered, but she knows exactly who she is. While I love Abbey Lincoln's realness, she doesn't have the same easy comic timing as the rest of the performers so that makes the tone a bit uneven, but it's still a cream puff of a flick about black romance during the swinging '60s.
5. Black Orpheus (1959)
First time actors: Brazilian Breno Mello and American Marpessa Dawn the morning after
I cannot say enough about the total magic of this film, which earned the Oscar for Best Foreign Film in 1960. Shot entirely in the favela of Morro de Babilhonia and the city of Rio de Janeiro, the film adapts the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice to then-modern times. Combining the beauty of the Afro-Brazilian people, the traditions and music of Brazil, and a tragic and timeless love story, Black Orpheus is a delight to the senses. Beautiful Eurydice arrives by boat in Rio, where residents are busy preparing for Carnaval. On the streetcar she meets the conductor, Orfeu, a fledgling musician who has reluctantly committed to marry his outgoing girlfriend Mira. Orfeu guides Eurydice up the hill to the favela where she will stay with her cousin, who is awaiting the return of her sailor boyfriend. But Eurydice has a secret -- she left home to escape a specter in a death mask who is trying to kill her for reasons that are never revealed. Soon enough, Orfeu and Eurydice fall in love. They head to Carnaval to dance in the samba school competition in their costumes, trying to hide from both a jealous Mira and Death, who has appeared to claim Eurydice's life. When tragedy befalls his beloved, Orfeu -- still clad in his sexy sun god Carnaval gear -- embarks on a physical and spiritual journey across the city to reclaim her. What could be more romantic? Alas, the myth ends tragically. But when three small children greet the sunrise with music and dancing, hope springs eternal. And the music throughout -- by national treasures Luis Banfa and Antonio Carlos Jobim -- is sublime, as the soundtrack includes carnaval sambas, bossa nova, candomblé ritual music, and ballads. The film has detractors who say that it is French director Marcel Camus' attempt to exoticize people of color and romanticize their poverty and dysfunction (much in the same way that George Gershwin's Porgy & Bess, another classic black love story, has been reviled for being a white New Yorker's version of Southern black life, "Negro" dialect and all). Some viewers may be put off by subtitles, while others may be confused by the story's many moments of magical realism owing to its mythological roots. Watch anyway.
Honorable hearts & flowers mentions to:
- 2014's Beyond The Lights, reviewed here
- 1960's Carmen Jones, where Dorothy Dandridge and Harry Belafonte make beautiful operatic music together until murder gets in the way
- 1994's Jason's Lyric, where Allen Payne and Jada Pinkett Smith struggle to get out from - under family and gangland trauma in Houston to make a way together
- and 1972's Sounder, where Cicely Tyson's devotion to sharecropper husband Paul Winfield is palpable.
I reject as a matter of course the syrup-sodden, pink and red, cutesy-poo Cupidfest that has subsumed our national tribute to romantic love. During times without a significant other, the holiday makes a mockery of my singlehood. Still, even if I am "boo'ed up," I'm flummoxed by the Valentine's thing; the challenge is in how to mark the occasion at a level appropriate to where the relationship stands -- without tumbling over the Cliffs of Sentimentality into a hot cloying pool of Kissy Kitsch. My gag response is too easily triggered.
But underneath my crusty exterior, I'm a softie. A bouquet of posies from that certain someone acknowledging whatever warmth lies between us can definitely melt away this cynical exterior. A cleverly worded missive -- rarely found in the annals of Hallmark -- can make me smile. I too have launched a few of the heart-shaped cards at moving targets over a few Februarys. But my general policy is to carry on as though these public displays aren't necessary or even that practical.
I suffer from a similar gag response when it comes to romantic movies. Anything too stuffed with corn, dipped in schmaltz, or shot through with formulaic sugar is generally to be avoided. So my list of favorite romantic flicks is short. But I'm only human, so there are other films -- corny, schmaltzy, predictable and dripping in Hollywood cliche goo -- that still get under my skin. I'll address those in another post.
Being that February is Black History Month, I thought I'd name a few black romance classics appropriate for Valentine's Day viewing.
(Note: While I enjoyed The Best Man films, Why Did I Get Married, Just Wright, Love And Basketball, Brown Sugar, the About Last Night remake, Jumping The Broom, Something New, and the like, I wouldn't call them classics. At least, not yet.)
1. Love Jones(1997)
Nia Long and Larenz Tate get into a little sumthin' sumthin'
I don't think I've seen a movie before or since that captures contemporary black love in quite such an affecting way. Artsy young Chicago professionals Nina Mosley and Darius Lovejoy -- as played by Nia Long and Larenz Tate -- are great to look at and their chemistry is tangible. In their love scenes, you can feel the yearning, the sizzle, and the lust. The story allows us to see how their romance unfolds through events that we recognize -- the spoken word club, the friend's house party, the badly timed lingering exes, going dancing. It's the dialogue and inclusion of so much of African American culture sets the film apart. Much in the way that another Chicago-set romance that I'm fond of -- 1986's About Last Night with Rob Lowe and Demi Moore -- examines 20something love from every angle and includes a Greek chorus of negativity from those who would break up the lovers for their own selfish reasons, so do Nina and Darius face embittered people and setbacks that almost convince them that love "ain't shit." Doubt, distrust, jealousy, insecurity, missed signals, denial -- it's all there, set to a fantastic, evocative soundtrack melding alternative R&B and classic jazz. In the end, Darius realizes that that elusive joy that you create with that one special person is too precious to throw away, and we know that somehow Nina and Darius are going to work it out even as she leaves on the evening train for New York. Notable for great performances by Lisa Nicole Carson and Isaiah Washington as the respective best friends. Hard to believe the film is almost 20 years old.
2. Claudine (1973)
Diahann Carroll and James Earl Jones get that lovin' feelin'
Some would say that this film represents another kind of '70s blaxploitation, in that it exploits the trope of a black single mother on welfare in the hood who is cheating the system with a maid's job. But I don't care -- Claudine is a gem because it gets real. Hard to believe that movie makers at the time thought Diahann Carroll was a little too glamorous to carry off the title role, but Diahann -- who was raised in Harlem -- hits all the necessary notes as a mother of five who finds herself falling against her better judgment for a garbage man with a raft of problems of his own. Far from the Romeo & Juliet drama of young Harlem lovers like those portrayed by Kevin Hooks and Irene Cara in 1975's Aaron Loves Angela, directed by Gordon Parks Jr., Carroll's Claudine and James Earl Jones' Rupe are hampered by grown folks' problems: troubled and rebellious children, the grind of menial gigs, roach infested dwellings, and the government interference that poor people are sadly all too familiar with -- welfare in Claudine's case and child support in Rupe's. To consider marriage under these conditions would be to throw away everything Claudine has known, including the monthly welfare checks she depends on, and she isn't sure that Rupe will stand by her. But in the end, it's Carroll and Jones making eyes at each other and trying to make an unworkable situation work that convinces you that their love is worth the risk. Black love wins out -- neither the social worker nor the police will stop these two. Curtis Mayfield's soulful and thoughtful score, performed by Gladys Knight & the Pips, adds to the emotion of the film by voicing the thoughts of the characters. "Keep Away From Me, Mr. Welfare," "To Be Invisible," "The Makings Of You," and "Make Yours A Happy Home" are timeless classics.
3. Boomerang (1992)
Eddie Murphy as Marcus: What more would a woman need?
Not a typical romance, Boomerang is a clever, slickly-produced comedy about how complicated the road to love has become in the modern era. Directed by Reggie Hudlin, produced by brother Warrington Hudlin and stuffed with a who's who of African American talent -- Eddie Murphy, Robin Givens, Halle Berry, Eartha Kitt, Chris Rock, Geoffrey Holder, Grace Jones, Martin Lawrence, David Alan Grier, Tisha Campbell, Lela Rochon, John Witherspoon and Melvin Van Peebles -- this is the tale of a notorious Big Apple ladies' man who finally finds the girl who makes him hang up his playboy dancing shoes. The film is a testament to '90s upward mobility as the upscale characters explore dating, racism, the wages of celebrity, and the bonds of male friendship as Eddie Murphy's bad boy ad exec, Marcus, finally learns that it's no fun being on the receiving end of the deceptive seductions he's been doling out to most of the females at the ad agency where he works.
Robin Givens as Jacqueline: "God, Marcus. I was so tense when I got off the plane, but you really relaxed me. See ya."
Robin Givens is perfect as the conniving career woman determined to break Marcus down (I think her next best screen role was as Imabelle in A Rage In Harlem, a tour de force performance in which she is utterly convincing as a 1950s gold-stealing femme fatale who ultimately falls in love with the mild-mannered funeral home assistant played by Forest Whitaker). Eddie Murphy also gives the film some great quieter moments, as in his scenes with Berry and in chopping it up on the issues with his friends. There's a streak of feminism to the film in the way that Givens' Jacqueline and Halle Berry's Angela -- and though played for laughs. even Grace Jones' extreme character Strangé and Eartha Kitt's cosmetics company head Lady Heloise -- are all committed to owning their careers and their sexuality, albeit in very different ways, in a male- dominated world. The sets, costume designs, makeup and smooth soundtrack by Marcus Miller combine to give the flick a shiny immediacy, while the ace performers offer up countless golden moments of comedy that have become oft-repeated classics (some only need one word: "Marrrrrr-cus!" "Coooor-dinate!" "Strang-e!") While Marcus ultimately walks off into the Brooklyn sunset with the Halle Berry character, having professed his love, we're only 99 percent convinced that love really will bring him home the next time he's tempted.
4. For Love Of Ivy (1968)
Abbey Lincoln as Ivy: Ma'am, what part of "I'm leaving" did you not understand?
This romantic comedy is more than a bit dated, but it was a breakthrough coming just four years after the passage of the Civil Rights Act. A black romance that white people could accept, the lighthearted yarn centers on another maid, this time played by stunning vocalist Abbey Lincoln in one of her few screen turns, while the usually upright Sidney Poitier -- just past his Black Saint period in film -- plays a character with a couple of skeletons in his closet. Ivy Moore is the beautiful, dutiful and smart 20something live-in housekeeper for a Long Island businessman played by All In The Family's Carroll O'Connor and his family, including their "hip" 20something son, played by Beau Bridges. (Two years later, Bridges would portray the "hip" son of a rich New York family who buys a Brooklyn brownstone and embeds himself among his black tenants to disastrous results in the simultaneously hilarious and sobering film The Landlord, which also featured the late, great Diana Sands. He has also played the father of Tracee Ellis Ross' Rainbow character in an episode of TV's Blackish.) When Ivy decides that after nine years she's had enough of the maid game and plans to leave to attend secretarial school in New York, the family is sent into a tizzy, because, naturally, they consider her "family" and immediately plot ways to dissuade her. Despite this being a brazen attempt by whites to stop a black woman from liberating herself from servitude or gaining agency over her own future, their meddling is depicted as sweet, loving and in her own best interest. Beau's character decides that what Ivy needs is a suitor who will distract her but not whisk her off. Because, what else would keep a black woman from pursuing her dreams but a man? And a trifling one at that? The son blackmails playboy trucking magnate Jack Parks -- because he may be shady but he's black! -- who reluctantly agrees to take Ivy out on a date. They go but she's a sheltered Southern girl and he's a smooth big city slickster secretly running an illegal casino operation out of the back of his trucks, and it doesn't seem that things will work out. Still, Jack is captivated by Ivy's simple directness, modesty and beauty. For the love of Ivy, Jack is willing to give up his double life. And just in time: In order to take Ivy away with him to New York, Jack hands over the operation of the casino to a pal and is no longer connected when the casino is busted by the police. What saves the movie from complete corniness is the chemistry between Lincoln and Poitier; Lincoln's character may be sheltered, but she knows exactly who she is. While I love Abbey Lincoln's realness, she doesn't have the same easy comic timing as the rest of the performers so that makes the tone a bit uneven, but it's still a cream puff of a flick about black romance during the swinging '60s.
5. Black Orpheus (1959)
First time actors: Brazilian Breno Mello and American Marpessa Dawn the morning after
I cannot say enough about the total magic of this film, which earned the Oscar for Best Foreign Film in 1960. Shot entirely in the favela of Morro de Babilhonia and the city of Rio de Janeiro, the film adapts the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice to then-modern times. Combining the beauty of the Afro-Brazilian people, the traditions and music of Brazil, and a tragic and timeless love story, Black Orpheus is a delight to the senses. Beautiful Eurydice arrives by boat in Rio, where residents are busy preparing for Carnaval. On the streetcar she meets the conductor, Orfeu, a fledgling musician who has reluctantly committed to marry his outgoing girlfriend Mira. Orfeu guides Eurydice up the hill to the favela where she will stay with her cousin, who is awaiting the return of her sailor boyfriend. But Eurydice has a secret -- she left home to escape a specter in a death mask who is trying to kill her for reasons that are never revealed. Soon enough, Orfeu and Eurydice fall in love. They head to Carnaval to dance in the samba school competition in their costumes, trying to hide from both a jealous Mira and Death, who has appeared to claim Eurydice's life. When tragedy befalls his beloved, Orfeu -- still clad in his sexy sun god Carnaval gear -- embarks on a physical and spiritual journey across the city to reclaim her. What could be more romantic? Alas, the myth ends tragically. But when three small children greet the sunrise with music and dancing, hope springs eternal. And the music throughout -- by national treasures Luis Banfa and Antonio Carlos Jobim -- is sublime, as the soundtrack includes carnaval sambas, bossa nova, candomblé ritual music, and ballads. The film has detractors who say that it is French director Marcel Camus' attempt to exoticize people of color and romanticize their poverty and dysfunction (much in the same way that George Gershwin's Porgy & Bess, another classic black love story, has been reviled for being a white New Yorker's version of Southern black life, "Negro" dialect and all). Some viewers may be put off by subtitles, while others may be confused by the story's many moments of magical realism owing to its mythological roots. Watch anyway.
Honorable hearts & flowers mentions to:
- 2014's Beyond The Lights, reviewed here
- 1960's Carmen Jones, where Dorothy Dandridge and Harry Belafonte make beautiful operatic music together until murder gets in the way
- 1994's Jason's Lyric, where Allen Payne and Jada Pinkett Smith struggle to get out from - under family and gangland trauma in Houston to make a way together
- and 1972's Sounder, where Cicely Tyson's devotion to sharecropper husband Paul Winfield is palpable.
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