Sexual Armony and Disagreements, June Allyson & Dick Powell (Modern Screen)

Sexual disagreements in relationships are more strongly associated with women considering ending their relationships than men, according to a new study published in the Journal of Sex Research on November 14, 2023. This finding, emerging from an analysis of thousands of participants, challenges traditional notions about the impact of sexual harmony on relationship stability. "Based on traditional gender ideologies, we would expect that sexual disagreements are associated with instability more strongly among men than among women,” said study author Dominika Perdoch Sladká, a researcher and a PhD student at the Department of Sociology at Masaryk University. “Some previous studies found that men judge their relationships by the quality of their sexual life more often than women. We were interested in testing if the gendered relationship between sexual disagreements and union instability found in earlier studies from the United States still exists in the 21st century. Our study included both married and cohabiting partners.”

In comparison to those who never had such disagreements, women who frequently experienced sexual disagreements were 13.1 percentage points more likely to consider separation. In contrast, men with frequent sexual disagreements showed only a 5 percentage point increase in separation proneness compared to those with no disagreements. The researchers also found that, at every level of sexual disagreement, women were more inclined towards separation proneness than men. This difference was most stark among those with frequent disagreements, underscoring a notable gender disparity. The study, “Sexual Disagreements: Differences Between Men and Women in a Culturally Diverse Sample” was authored by Dominika Perdoch Sladká and Martin Kreidl. Source: https://www.tandfonline.com

June Allyson: Did you ever take a ride on the elevator of a skyscraper? Of course, well, you know how it feels when the elevator surges upward. . . phew, your head sinks to your toes—but soon, with a little effort everything returns to normal and you’re on a level keel again. And so it is with most stars, as they rise rapidly their heads swim but with a little effort the leveling off period is not far away. Sure, some stars never level off. I feel I am most fortunate being married to a man like Richard, my husband and loving critic. He has helped me to stay on that level keel, at least I’ve had my two feet on the ground. 

How do I get along with Richard? Fans write they hear rumors that I’m hypnotized, that I’m on strings, or that he’s a Svengali. Nothing could be further from the truth. So get your pencil and jot this down. When the lights are out at night, I lie in bed and thank God for my marital happiness with Richard. . . And I pray that my kids will find the happiness in his future marriages that I have found in mine. This all comes from my heart and I hope you realize that Richard is not twisting my arm. If this doesn’t kick the pins out from under the wagging tongues, well, then I’ll give up trying. Personally I couldn’t care less what gossips think and say . . . but since I have this opportunity to put it in the record—you’ve got it.

I truly wish that most husbands would be as considerate of their wives as mine is to me. Richard has a wonderful sense of humor. He knows how to make me laugh and does. He can always be expected to do the unexpected. He has no inhibitions and he exercises his prerogative as a husband to take the initiative, but always in good taste—he’s a man a girl can lean upon. Usually I lunch in my dressing room. This gives me a chance to slip into a robe and quietly relax. Here again I want to spike rumors that I’m aloof and don’t eat with the gang in the commissary. I love the gang, I love people, but I feel the picture comes first and that I must have a period of relaxation before starting the long afternoon. A little cat-nap does wonders, believe me. My favorite foods are steak and French fried onions, salads, Italian and Cantonese.

One evening in San Francisco we decided on an Italian dinner and were recommended to Vanessi’s. Well, “Uncle Joe” Vanessi, as he insisted we call him, ordered our dinner for us. It took three hours of eating our way through “Uncle Joe’s” hospitality before we could make our way out to our car. To me shopping in new places is the greatest. I always make the rounds of all the shops, see what everyone has to offer and then go back to where I saw something I liked. The trouble is, though, most of the time I forget where the shop is, or I don’t have the time to get back. Now, you asked me about traveling. We very often go to Palm Springs, about 100 miles south of Los Angeles. 

We spent a full week at Marion Davies Desert Inn, relaxing, playing tennis, golf and lying in the sun. Give us a hot day, a bottle of sun-tan oil and we’re in business. Sun-bathing is a bit mild for Richard, though; not enough action, he says. Later I went on a shopping tour with Richard. While I looked for clothes, Richard was looking at property. Yes, I love to travel. It’s fun to get away from the house but always twice as nice to return home. Who dresses me? By this I hope you mean who selects my clothes? But if you really mean “Who dresses me”—well, I’m a big girl now and I dress myself. The answer to the latter question is the same. I select my own clothes and I love to shop for myself. Richard has excellent taste in selecting clothes for me and loves nice things and likes to surprise me. I love tailored clothes, suits and lots of slacks and tops. And lots of full cottons for summer, and I adore evening gowns. It’s such fun getting dressed up for a party.

Sometimes I feel embarrassed when people stare at me in public. I jump when I hear my name spoken at nearby tables. I often wonder if other stars feel the same way, like a gold fish in a bowl—with no privacy. It seems to be a must in show business to maul and paw you with a greeting. To plant a big kiss on your cheek. I resent this when it’s done to me. I’m annoyed at over-demonstrative people. I’m sure it’s fun at home but I just don’t go for that bit . . . in public. I also resent some women being over-demonstrative with my husband and I don’t spare the horses in telling them off, I’ll tell you, I’m never annoyed by the same person twice. We see our friends and enjoy each other with small dinner parties at home. If a big group gets together, it becomes involved as to where to go, what to do and somehow, Richard always winds up as the social director. He automatically becomes the leader. It was funny when Jack Benny arrived one night with a whistle on a chain for Richard! Friends, fine friends, are where you find them. As the saying goes, “Show me your friends and I’ll know who you are.” Gosh, I’ve really been on a soap box, and here comes that man for his box, so I’ll step down. Sure, I’ll answer some more questions—some other time. —Modern Screen magazine, July 1956

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

"As long as we know in our hearts what Christmas ought to be, Christmas is." -Eric Sevareid (American author and journalist)

Fred MacMurray and Barbara Stanwyck in "Remember the Night" (1940) directed by Mitchell Leisen

From DeMille’s Irish postmistress at end of track to Clifford Odets’s worldweary “tramp from Newark,” Barbara Stanwyck was to play a seen-it-all, light-fingered jewel thief on trial in New York for shoplifting a blindingly sparkling bracelet. Mitchell Leisen, one of Paramount’s leading directors, was assigned the picture. Each of Leisen’s fourteen pictures had been a box-office success. Leisen was Paramount’s answer to George Cukor. Leisen wanted Barbara for the part of Lee Leander, jewel thief. He felt the part was written for her. Fred MacMurray was to be the hard-driving assistant district attorney prosecuting the case who, instead of sending her to jail, falls in love with her. Leisen thought MacMurray a goodlooking actor but he was quiet, genial, modest, and inexperienced. Though Preston Sturges came from the top and Barbara from the bottom—he from a European bohemian aristocracy and she from a showgirl street life—Barbara felt a great compatibility with Sturges. She thought him enormously talented and his script one of the best she’d ever read. “What’s on paper is on the screen,” she said. Sturges and Leisen were an interesting combination of sensibilities. Sturges wrote comedy with flashes of feeling and warmth; Leisen directed pictures that were warm with bursts of comedy.

The DA (Fred MacMurray) is getting ready to drive home to Wabash, Indiana, for the holidays to the family farm to see his mother and aunt. In the spirit of Christmas, he bails out the girl he’s about to prosecute so she won’t have to spend the holiday behind bars. The bondsman delivers her —with his compliments and a wink— to the DA’s apartment, the last thing he wants or expects (“What are you doing here?” he asks her. “I don’t know,” she says, “but I’ve got a rough idea”). Now he’s stuck with her; she’s been locked out of her hotel; she’s got nowhere to go, and she’s in his custody.

In the scene in which the family has gathered in the parlor around the Christmas tree, MacMurray plays the piano and sings “Swanee River,” and Barbara plays “A Perfect Day” on the piano as Willie (Sterling Holloway) sings. Leisen knew how to use visual business in a scene to create character, mood, story. His subtle eloquence and deftness was called the Leisen magic. Barbara teased MacMurray for being shy about filming love scenes. Barbara handled it by saying to the crew, “This is really going to be something, I am supposed to be kissed passionately by Fred.” She kidded Fred about it, as did the crew. When the day arrived, MacMurray gritted his teeth, determined to show them he wasn’t such a bad lover, and did the scene perfectly.

Barbara never looked more beautiful, more luminous, than she does in Remember the Night. In the end of Sturges’s script, “love reformed her and corrupted him, which gave us the finely balanced moral,” said Sturges, “that one man’s meat is another man’s poison, or caveat emptor.” In Remember the Night, Barbara is both classy and shopgirlish. Sturges was a loner, as Barbara had been before Bob Taylor came into her life. Barbara operates on many levels in 'Remember the Night': she is a believable crook; believably vulgar; believably sensitive and vulnerable; rebellious (in the scene with her mother, it is clear her defiance is bonded to her mother’s take on her). What Sturges gives Stanwyck is her longing for roots, her longing to go home for Christmas.

The combination of Barbara and MacMurray works: he is light and a good egg; she is breezy, grounded, larcenous, with a heart of gold and a yearning for home, like Sturges himself, who had such an uprooted childhood. “As it turned out,” said Sturges, “the picture had quite a lot of schmaltz, a good dose of schmerz and just enough schmutz to make it box office.” It was Leisen’s best picture to date and Barbara’s best performance. -"A Life of Barbara Stanwyck: Steel True (1907-1940)" by Victoria Wilson

They go out to eat and talk about their situation. “Sounds like a play, doesn’t it?” asks Lee, which is Sturges acknowledging the whole “movie pitch idea” of his basic screenplay, then mocking it when John replies, “Sounds like a flop.” In 'Remember the Night,' this exchange leads us directly into the most important scene in the film, where Lee tries to explain her concept of right and wrong to John. Mrs. Sargent, who knows the truth about her, gently warns Lee that she might spoil John’s career if they were to get married. Lee is standing in front of a mirror, and when Mrs. Sargent puts her hands on Lee’s shoulders, Stanwyck freezes, with her mouth wide open, one arm up holding a comb, a vision of complete Mouchette-style awkwardness. Mirrors always bring out Stanwyck’s deepest feelings. Leisen films the hushed parting between John and Lee with real tenderness, but the complexities of the early scenes get politely swept under the rug. In many ways, it was a kind of holiday movie for Stanwyck. She said that the atmosphere on a Capra set was “like a cathedral,” while on a Sturges set it was “a carnival.” -"Barbara Stanwyck: The Miracle Woman" (2012) by Dan Callahan

Saltburn (2023): Style vs Substance

One way to read Saltburn is, like Parasite, as a film focused on economic class disparities. Felix and the Catton family represent the top-end ultra-wealthy. While Oliver is the rest of us. Even though it’s set in 2006/2007, it’s about now. Specifically, about the pursuit of style over substance. Style at the cost of substance. Emerald Fennell’s Oliver Quick is like American Psycho’s Patrick Bateman. No humanity, no morality. Simply a yearning. The end of Saltburn begins in the aftermath of Oliver’s successful takeover of Saltburn through the systematic annihilation of the Catton family. We do have the brief bit where Oliver provides exposition to Elsbeth before removing her breathing tube. It’s a continuation of the film’s opening where Oliver ponders if he was in love with Felix. Oliver explains that he actually hated Felix. “I hated all of you.” Early in the Oxford portion of Saltburn, Oliver reads an essay to his professor. Both the professor and Farleigh try to hide their extreme boredom. But Farleigh eventually criticizes Oliver for using “thus” four times. To which Oliver responds that Farlegih’s attacking the style rather than the substance.

Viewed this way, Saltburn becomes a story about the pursuit of style. It’s less a commentary on class dynamics (Parasite) and more a cautionary tale about the kind of person who would sacrifice all his/her substance in order to appear a certain way. American Psycho (2001) was originally a reaction to the Wall Street culture of the late-80s. American Psycho opts for hyperbole. Patrick Bateman serves as a kind of mythologized final-form for someone who belongs to that culture. A warning sign. A line not to cross. In Saltburn we can also infer that conniving superficiality is a recipe for success. In politics, on social media, in business. So a lot of what’s going on at the end of Saltburn has this style versus substance dynamic at its core. In the Greek mythology, Theseus is a seemingly heroic figure who kills a rival in a maze, then ditches the person who had helped him, and inherits an entire kingdom because he tricks his father into suicide. 

Oliver Quick (a spectacular Barry Keoghan) is a seemingly likable guy who kills someone in a maze, then inherits an entire estate because he murders the people who had helped him. Likewise, in Nightcrawler (2014) Jake Gyllenhaal's character starts a small business, works hard to overcome fierce competition, and manages to maneuver his way to success. That’s the American dream, right? Except the character does this by lying, manipulating, and setting someone up to die. He’s actually despicable but thinks he’s a good guy. Nightcrawler makes the hero a villain and uses that to make a sharp criticism of modern capitalism and the kind of behavior and person it now rewards. The person who succeeds is no longer the one who does things the right way, the honest way. It’s the bad guy. Saltburn follows a similar pattern. It uses the Theseus myth but flips the hero into a villain. A broader commentary on the kind of person who is rising up in the world and how they’re getting there. Oliver presents himself as gentle and kind but is, behind the scenes, devious and irredeemable. 

Oliver Quick is a new kind of figure. A Theseus for the 21st century. With terrifying implications. When Oliver brings down the Catton family and takes Saltburn for himself, you can view this as kind of a revolutionary message, both culturally and politically. But not all revolutions are good, right? As we said in the ending discussion, Oliver echoes the story of Theseus. But instead of the heroic figure, he’s the villain. This brings us back to the comparison to The Social Network. That film wasn’t saying all Millennial Internet entrepreneurs will be anti-social creeps. Just that there’s a cultural archetype that has been forming lately and that we should be aware of it.

Likewise, Saltburn isn’t saying middle class people are like Oliver or that all Millennials are like him. Just that now it’s kind of easier than ever to be a grifter. And that con artists and superficiality seem to be winning a lot more than anyone should like. And we’re entering into a new era because of it. Being the superior film, American Psycho articulated the spiritual crisis much better: "My pain is constant and sharp, and I do not hope for a better world for anyone. In fact, I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no one to escape." Oliver Quick, like Patrick Bateman, has eradicated his individuality in order to fit in, but he lacks Bateman's self-awareness. Source: filmcolossus.com

The Killer by David Fincher: Critique of Capitalism

How to interpret The Killer by David Fincher? It's a story about the vacuous soul of the gig economy? Or a tale of violent class struggle in a post-capitalist society?

1. THE KILLER = THE WORKING CLASS

The “Killer” is a man seemingly stripped of any humanity, character or backstory. He is the embodiment of a worker – a tool, an agent defined by serving those who pay for his services. He serves “no God or country, I fly no flag”. The opening chapter is solely focussed on his “purely logistical” process, his craft. Where does the opening chapter take place? At a WeWork office. What does the working class do? We work. The Killer is shapeshifting and takes on the appearance of various working class roles/gig workers. He is a janitor, an Amazon delivery guy etc. The key idea put forward in the opening chapter is “the few exploiting the many”. This, I contest, is the central theme and conflict of the movie (this isn’t a concept that is owned by Marxian thought, but for fun) I am going to analyse the movie purely from a Marxist worldview). As the Killer explains, this is the “cornerstone of civilization” since the “beginning of history.”

2. MODERN CLASS STRUGGLE

We begin in Paris, home of the Paris Commune – the place of the very first Communist society in 1871. The Killer observes the life of a classic Parisian bourgeoisie neighbourhood in a voyeuristic, Rear Window style. This can be viewed as the inciting incident where he gains “class consciousness”. His murder gone wrong is the point at which the existing power structures turn against him and force him into a conflict against those that seek to oppress him. This sets the Killer on a path of overthrowing the capitalist superstructure which oppresses the working class. His obstacles (Leo, Hodges, the Brute, the Expert) challenge his proletariat identity in some way. Leo represents intra-class conflict – the way in which the lower classes are pitted against each other. Hodges represents how government and legal systems uphold a capitalist hierarchical structure. He is framed by a set of legal scales and he presents himself as acting in accordance with standard procedure. Hodges's secretary Dolores is a government bureaucrat simply doing her job. They are nevertheless complicit in the system which oppresses the working class. The Brute represents the use of violence (military power) to subjugate further the working classes. 

The Expert is a representation of the seduction of wealth to the working class. Finally, the Client (Claybourne) represents the very top of the capitalist hierarchy whom the other characters serve. He bargains his fate in transactional terms – offering cash, asking “what can I do for you?”. Being the “Client”, Claybourne serves nobody else. However, having used violence to upend the existing hierarchy, the Killer has placed himself above the Client. By the end of the film, the Killer has altered the balance of power against the Client and those that wish to harm him. He hasn’t tipped up the capitalist system, only changed his position within it – he has reconciled his identity as one of the many whilst securing his own position. The final lines of the film confirm his identity as a worker – “maybe you’re just like me, one of the many.”

3. CRITIQUE OF CAPITALISM IN 2023

The arc of The Killer reflects a transition from a worker merely existing in the dog-eat-dog capitalist paradigm to one that has gained class consciousness and upended the system he existed in. Guillermo del Toro wrote a twitter post about Fincher's The Killer saying: "The Killer is a movie as if penned by Sartre and filmed by Melville with the briskness of Siegel. I simply love when Fincher swings with a mean genre beat. Nimble and clockwork precise and fun. The breeziest film I have seen in a long time. It's great when you can see a film and a movie at the same time." Source: medium.com