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[personal profile] muckefuck
As per usual, [livejournal.com profile] monshu and I had several invitations for Oscar Parties tonight and, as per usual, we turned them down in favour of a quiet night at home. Neither of us really has the stomach for the bloated mishegoss the Academy Awards have become; we haven't seen any of the nominated films--we don't even know who half the young stars are any more--and fashion-snarking just isn't our bag. Instead, we popped in a past award-winner: Best Picture 1960 The Apartment, directed by Billy Wilder (Best Director) and starring Jack Lemmon (who lost out to Burt Lancaster) and Shirley Maclaine (who lost out to Elizabeth Taylor).

OH. MY. GOD. That just might be the creepiest rom-com I've ever seen. Lemmon stalks a girl at work (using his position to access and memorise her personal records), keeps her locked and isolated in his apartment over Christmas after a suicide attempt (forbidding her to contact her worried family), and then unilaterally decides he's going to "take her off the hands" of her current paramour. And he's the good guy. What he is is a Nice Guy of the first order. (Quoth the Old Man: "I never realised what a slimy character he is.") With these kinds of role models, it's no wonder so many men have difficulty distinguishing "romance" from criminal activity.

Dinner was an aggressively simple preparation of the smoked pork butt I brought back from Paulina Meat Market on Monday. In fact, it was essentially identical to traditional Irish bacon and cabbage, despite the "Eastern European" pedigree of the recipe the GWO used. The only difference I noted was the addition of some brown sugar to the boiling liquid. Apparently, there's a linked recipe that uses this for a sweet sauerkraut soup, which attracted his eye since we've still got three pounds of kraut left over from my stab at dinner.

I was dubious when I saw the head of white cabbage, since I remember absolutely loathing boiled cabbage as a child. I don't know if it's a matter of my taste buds weakening, the effect of the added sugar, or what, but I found it all very palatable. Enough to consider having it again--provided we can once again get our hands on a nice hunk of smoked meat. A cheaper cut would have too much brine, making for a saltier broth that wouldn't be much use afterwards.
Date: 2012-02-27 05:34 pm (UTC)

From: [identity profile] muckefuck.livejournal.com
Clearly you're encouraged to identify and sympathise with him. At first, he's presented as a poor honest zhlub being taken advantage of by selfish hectoring executives. It's only when MacMurray calls him into his office that you begin to realise what a slimy little schemer he really is.

But Wilder did a lot of noir as well, and I find it likely that he had some notion of the dark side to Mr Baxter. It would be interesting to see what he had to say about the film in interviews.
Date: 2012-02-29 01:08 am (UTC)

From: [identity profile] lhn.livejournal.com
While there are some missing pages in the Google Books preview, it looks like Wilder really thought of Baxter as sympathetic, someone who stepped up when the moment came to be heroic. He's at least willing to go along with the idea that the theme is "Be a mensch" (even if he prefers "When you're in love with a married man, don't wear mascara."). He doesn't think they'll last, but primarily because of money friction (what with him and likely her being out of a job).

Aside: he also reports that Fred MacMurray was attacked on the street by a former fan who claimed that he'd ruined "My Three Sons" for her by acting in such a filthy movie. (Maybe she'd missed Double Indemnity?)

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