Marlon Brando, In a Petticoat

This book. THIS book. Although the incidents are strung together in extremely random fashion, there are gems. For example:

Jack Nicholson is shooting a movie (The Missouri Breaks) in Montana. Marlon Brando plays the bad guy and dresses in a petticoat, which he keeps on even when the film is not shooting. It’s called: “staying in character.”

Harry Dean Stanton is in the movie as well. Just before Stanton’s climactic death scene , he is “taut with tension” (because he is a “Method actor”?). His character is wounded and staggers to a riverbank, where Marlon Brando’s mercenary is to deliver the coup de grace. The director of the movie, Arthur Penn, yells “Action.” Shooting begins. “Marlon dismounted from his mule, wagging, skipping, inventing snatches of dialogue, mugging through the death scene, which was meandering on. He was obviously having a whale of a time. Suddenly, Stanton . . . lurched to his feet in the muddy river and lunged at Marlon, bringing him facedown in the water. A brief skirmish followed, a lot of white water, kicking and petticoats, and finally” Stanton and Brando emerge, “soaked from bonnet to boots, laughing hysterically.”

“Seriously, he was taking too long,” Harry Dean explained.

OMG! Self did not stop laughing for at least 10 minutes.

No mention of the director’s reaction.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

A Break from Anjelica Huston Angst

Self is on yet another bus in Ireland. Heading back north.

In Watch Me, Anjelica Huston is bored out of her mind at a Lakers game.

As a break from Huston’s boredom, self turns to another book she’s brought with her all the way from California: Lydia’s Funeral Video, by Sam Chanse.

This book is fascinating and entertaining — sort of like a hip primer on being an American.

Which feels, actually, very deflating right now because OMG is Trump really going up against whoever and OMG what?

Never mind that.

In Lydia’s Funeral Video, which is about an unmarried 28-year-old American named Lydia, Lydia feels compelled to buy a pregnancy test:

And the pharmacist is explaining how this test works by checking for a hormone in the saliva or something, and she instructs me to listen for the three consecutive beeps before checking the color of the light– red for not pregnant, green for pregnant.

“You know, if you’re pregnant, green for go!” the pharmacist says — which I think they’re supposed to say to make pregnancy sound like happy fun time and encourage you to go ahead and have the kid . . .

Okay, sorry dear blog readers but typing this on a careening bus is making self dizzy.

(To be continued)

 

 

The Rich Are Awful

Still reading Watch Me.

Self has this theory that the rich are awful people. Why? Because they’re surrounded by enablers and sycophants.

Self is in no way letting poor folk off the hook. She’s met awful, poor people as well. Awfulness comes in every demographic! But right now, she’s reading about rich people. Because this is Anjelica Huston’s memoir of the rich and the beautiful.

In Watch Me (Chapter xx, self forgets), Huston’s in Cannes. She’s on a yacht owned by Sam Spiegel. Parties are fabulous, the yacht interiors are “tasteful beige and maritime navy blue,” and everyone throws tantrums. The “widow of Anatole Litvak” (Self has no idea who this is; should she care?) lights up a cigarette on the yacht, thereby making herself the focus of Spiegel’s wrath, while the male guests are allowed to puff merrily away “on cigars.”

Self would not last one minute in such a crowd.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

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