Five Classic Holiday Films

By classic, I mean going back to the days of black & white.

Some of these you’ve no doubt heard of, others may be new to you. If you’re a classic movie fan, you’ve seen each one a dozen times or more, watching and re-watching every holiday season.

I’ve reviewed each of these on my other blog, Classic for a Reason, and I’ve conveniently linked to those reviews (click on the title).

Miracle on 34th Street
Edmund Gwenn, Natalie Wood
Edmund Gwenn and Natalie Wood bond in Miracle on 34th Street

This classic stands out as one of the best holiday films ever. The cast is clearly as charmed by the story as the audience, and it reminds us that maybe–just maybe–there really is a Santa Claus.

Macy’s employee Doris Walker, a single mother who doesn’t believe in fairy tales, is in charge of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade. Much to her chagrin, the man playing Santa Claus shows up drunk. She enlists a reluctant bystander to replace him, a man who turns her whole life upside down, for he claims–with utter sincerity–to be the real Kris Kringle.

Maureen O’Hara and John Payne remained proud of their connection to this film for the rest of their lives, with Payne going so far as to write a never-published sequel. Their pride was justified.

Holiday Affair
Robert Mitchum and Janet Leigh in Holiday Affair
Robert Mitchum and Janet Leigh surprise us in this sweet story.

This one will catch some of you off guard. Not because of a remarkable storyline–rather, it’s pretty formula–but because of the cast. Robert Mitchum stars in one of his few romantic comedies, with a very young Janet Leigh as the object of his affection. Despite the predictable nature of this film, it’s a pleasure to watch, in large part because of the performances of Mitchum and Leigh.

She’s a secret shopper scoping out the competition; he’s the salesperson who recognizes what she’s up to, but doesn’t report it as required. When he loses his job because of his inaction, the two meet up and start getting closer in a manner that soon disrupts the comfortable relationship she has with her would-be fiancé. They’re not the only ones with a stake in what happens — she has a son from her previous marriage to a soldier who died in combat.

As I said, a formula plot, but a charming movie. Mitchum’s brooding loner persona translates well to this light romantic comedy, and Leigh’s youth and gentle spirit is a welcome contrast.

Christmas in Connecticut
Dennis Morgan, Barbara Stanwyck in Christmas in Connecticut
Dennis Morgan and Barbara Stanwyck are falling for each other, but a tiny lie stands in their way.

A movie for the times it was made. War hero Jefferson Jones (Dennis Morgan) longs for a home-cooked meal. In a publicity stunt, magazine publisher Alexander Yardley (Sydney Greenstreet) arranges for such a meal, a holiday meal, no less, with his popular writer, Martha Stewart-like Elizabeth Lane (Barbara Stanwyck). Elizabeth exemplifies the perfect wife of her time with her culinary and creative skills in the home. Problem is, she is lying with every word she writes. She not only isn’t a wife and mother, she can’t cook, sew or change a diaper.

The world was changing when this film was released. With so many men off to war, women were joining the work force in larger numbers than ever before. There are some who say Elizabeth’s career exemplifies one of the few socially acceptable options for a working woman at the time–make a good living as a housewife.

The rest of us say, phooey.  Don’t analyze it.  This is a fun movie with a creative twist on the standard comedy formula of confused identity. If it reflects the standards of the times, then consider how films of today might be viewed in fifty years, and enjoy the fun.

The Bishop’s Wife
Cary Grant, Loretta Young in The Bishop's Wife
Cary Grant helps David Niven and Loretta Young find joy together again.

Cary Grant is Dudley, the debonair angel who visits Bishop David Niven and his wife, Loretta Young. Sent to set the floundering couple’s marriage right and steer the Bishop back on course with his life’s work, Dudley starts up a romance of sorts (but not quite) between himself and the lonely woman.

How the Bishop comes to see the truth about his life, as well as the poignant struggle his wife faces with her lot, makes for a heartwarming tale. This film moves a little slower, and includes some beautiful performances by a boy’s choir, as well as a moving sermon near the end of the story. But it’s not a religious tale — it’s a love story.

The Shop Around the Corner
The Shop Around the Corner starring Margaret Sullavan and James Stewart
Margaret Sullavan and James Stewart discuss why they could never fall in love.

A perfect blend of sentiment and sophistication, director Ernst Lubitsch later called this “the best movie he ever made,” which is saying a tremendous amount given his legacy. It’s no exaggeration, either, for this is one of the finest romantic comedies ever made.

James Stewart and Margaret Sullavan are sparring co-workers with one thing in common: each is corresponding with someone they believe to be their ideal mate, even though they’ve never met. It’s Stewart who realizes the truth first, and the gentle way he handles first hiding, then revealing, the truth to Sullavan is immensely satisfying.

It’s a simple story with so much more going on than what you see at first glance, and one you don’t have to wait until December to enjoy. But it is December.

My Lovely Moon

Go slowly, my lovely moon, go slowly.
― Khaled Hosseini, The Kite Runner

The moon outside my window tonight. It’s more beautiful than any image my humble camera could capture, but it is my lovely moon.

Lovely moon, from age to age, you continue to lit our dark path, to inspire our hearts, to reflect a greater glory.

Go slowly.


Age

 

The Giving Tree

I’ve found a way to keep the Christmas spirit all year around — even though the best evidence of that comes in December.

As many of you know, I’m an avid knitter. So avid, in fact, it caused tendonitis a year ago. I’ve been knitting since I was 19, and there are countless pieces out there I’ve created. Some I’ve even designed myself.

Giving Tree sm
The Giving Tree

Over the years I’ve used this gift  (and I truly consider knitting to be a gift) from time to time to make items for charitable giving. My current endeavor is hats for those who come to my church’s food bank. Every year we have the Giving Tree, and people hang cold weather items such as hats, scarves, mittens on it during December.

Those items are available for a group of people in need, some homeless, some struggling to keep a roof over their heads. All struggling to get enough food for themselves and their families.

The year-round aspect of this is easy to figure out. I knit the hats throughout the year, and keep them in a basket until it’s time to give them away. Some of the yarn is leftover from other projects, some is purchased for this purpose and some is donated to me.

Giving Tree Hats
This year’s collection

I take pleasure in knowing a handful of people will have attractive, warm hats for the cold weather. Some say charitable giving is selfish, because you do it to make yourself feel better. I say, I don’t have to do this to feel good about life and myself. I do it because it’s the right thing to do.

Do you have a talent you share with others in need (whatever that need may be)? I know Judy shares her music and her growth from tragedy with others. Lois shared her kind heart and tough spirit with prisoners until health issues prevented her from doing so. And each month Kathy writes about how to keep the Christmas spirit alive year-round.

Most of you who read this have been given so much, even if it doesn’t always seem that way. For those who are struggling, I pray others reach out to you. I was lucky enough when, during my worst hours, kind people gave me a lift out of the abyss.

This is my thank you.


 

The Honor is All Mine

In honor of a former boyfriend’s birthday, I am telling the true story of the first of his birthdays we spent together, and a follow-up conversation we had after our breakup.

Honor is perhaps not the right word, unless you consider any honesty being honorable. I’m not giving real names.

Fotolia_93820319_XS

Dating Dan was a subtle seduction into becoming a verbal punching bag. The smile he initially greeted me with on our dates eventually became a disinterested glance, and I tried desperately to get us back to where we’d been. Until a pan of lasagna forced my eyes open.

It was Dan’s birthday, and I’d promised him the best lasagna he’d ever tasted. All afternoon I labored over boiling and simmering the sauce, cooking up the sausage, slicing the cheese and layering it all between the strips of pasta. I made breadsticks, watching the dough rise and twisting each piece into shape. When the cake cooled, I carefully decorated it. Add a vinaigrette dressing for the salad and a bottle of good wine. I surveyed what I had done, and was satisfied.

He arrived late, as usual, and I silently fretted that the breadsticks were no longer warm and the salad was looking a little limp. Still, my anticipation of his pleasure washed over me.

He took a bite of the lasagna, and grimaced. A few more bites were forced down.

Dinner

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“What is this meat?” he asked.

“Sausage.” Of course.

“Why would you put sausage in lasagna? You’re supposed to use hamburger.”

“Sausage is traditional in Italian cooking.”

“Who told you that? Why did you make this? Why didn’t you just go to the grocery store and buy some from the freezer?”

He continued to berate me and I stood there quietly. I was humiliated. I sought a response, but my mind went blank. Not that it mattered. Any words I could have found to defend myself would have stuck in my throat.

It didn’t stop that night. For the rest of the time we were dating, he never missed an opportunity to bring up the sausage (not hamburger) in the lasagna. Even after we broke up, on the sporadic occasions we saw each other, he continued, until one day it got out of control.

I’d taken care of his cat, Freddy, while he was on a business trip, something I was happy to do since I didn’t yet have a kitty of my own, and Freddy and I were good buds. Dan arrived home early, catching me still at his place, and almost immediately launched into a preposterous lasagna attack.

“Well, I had a free day, so I flew down to North Carolina to visit Tony,” he said, a little too casually.

I was on guard at once. “You had a free day on your business trip to New York, so you caught a flight to North Carolina?”

passenger plane

“Sure.”

“Isn’t that expensive?”

“Not if you travel roundtrip in one day. I got a special fare. It was a discount airline.”

Really. Who’s Tony?”

“Tony, my best friend from grade school. You’ve heard me talk about him.”

I knew all his friends from grade school, and none of them were named Tony.

“You’ve never mentioned him.”

“Yes, I have. Anyway, I probably never told you this, but Tony’s mom is a real famous chef in Italy. She’s from…” he paused, seeming to search his memory. “Sicily! You know, Sicily.”

“Yes, I know Sicily.”

chefs-hat-

“Anyway, she’s a real famous chef, she’s like, the Julia Child of Italy.”

“Really.” He didn’t catch the tone.

“Yeah, and she was there when I visited, and I told her…”

“Wait. Did Tony live with his dad or something? I mean, when you were kids.”

“No, he lived with his mom. And dad. Both of them.”

“In Minnesota.”

“Yeah, she took a break to raise him.”

“She took a break from being the Julia Child of Italy to raise her son in the public school system in Minnesota.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, go on.” This was a rare opportunity. Give a man enough rope, and he’ll hang himself.

“So I told her how you’d made the lasagna with sausage, and she couldn’t stop laughing. I mean, for hours. She said that was the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard, using sausage in Italian cooking.”

“The Julia Child of Italy has never heard of using sausage…” I shook my head.

Italian cooking

“She couldn’t stop laughing.”

“She lives in North Carolina?”

“No, she lives in Sicily. She was visiting Tony for the weekend.”

“The weekend?”

“The holiday weekend. It’s a holiday in Italy. Freedom Day or something.”

“You visited him the weekend his mother arrived from Italy? During her very short visit with her son?” He nodded. “Okay, go on.”

“She was like a second mother to me.” Chin up, challenging me to contradict him.

“What’s her name?”

“Uh, Maria, I think…but she goes by something else professionally. I forget what. Anyway, she couldn’t stop laughing. She laughed so hard and so long, she didn’t have any time to spend with Tony.”

“Or you, I’m guessing.”

“She didn’t have any time to spend with Tony.” He repeated with emphasis, and paused. “You ruined their weekend together with your lasagna.”

Now it was my turn to laugh, assuming any part of what Dan told me was true and Maria had, indeed, had uncontrollable fits of mirth at my expense. Dan was annoyed, which only made me laugh harder.

A mutual friend filled out the rest of the story for me. A year or so later, Dan starting dating an Italian woman, someone born in the U.S. of — you guessed it — Sicilian parents. She invited him to dinner and (do I need to tell the rest of the story?) when he found out her mother was serving lasagna, he jokingly asked if she’d used sausage, planning to launch into this story about his ignorant former girlfriend.

“Of course,” she replied stiffly, and the conversation went downhill from there. Dan would never tell me any part of the story himself, but I had imagined something just like it for so long, so I was pleased as punch to hear it from our friend.

But the sad thing is, I haven’t made lasagna since that birthday so long ago. And my lasagna was damn good.


One-Way

Image Credits: (Sicily Sign) gustavofrazao — stock.adobe.com; (Dinner Table) lyudinka — stock.adobe.com; (Italian Cooking stamp) squarelogo — stock.adobe.com; (Chef’s Hat) courtesy of Pixabay; (Airplane) GraphicStock

Celebrating Milton (It’s Caturday!)

Today we celebrate my mom’s cat Milton, a sweetheart with a difficult past who found his permanent place of residence a few years ago. Now he’s King of the Castle, reigning with benevolence and charm.

20171125_1029091336609722.jpg
Stop this darn picture taking and feed me!!

 

Pondering…pondering…

Image Credits–Header: (Cesar Cat) © Belinda Ostrowski; (Paws and Heart) © Bigstockphoto.com