Down the Rabbit Hole of Awesome

We saw Jack Gerber off to Joshua Tree yesterday morning, and then spent several hours flopped in a heap. It was fantastic to have Jack stay with us for the holidays, but we'd been in such complete host mode that we hadn't given any thought to what we'd do he left. After some laundry was put away and some Rice Krispie treats were made, I put one of our last Xmas movie rentals in and sat down with a gin and tonic to watch "The Last King of Scotland."

About an hour into it, MG announces that "Ball of Fire" is showing at the Aero at 7:30, in a double bill with "Twentieth Century." Good bye cozy night at home, hello brisk-if-somewhat-drunk walk to the Aero.

Over two years ago, I had a professor rave about "Ball of Fire," and I've been trying to see it ever since. There's a reason why it was hard to track down -- it came out on DVD this May, but before that, the last release was a VHS tape in 1998. And now that I've seen it, I can see why it is so fondly remembered.

Billy Wilder screenplay, Howard Hawks directs, Barbara Stanwyck shows some leg, Gary Cooper learns fisticuffs, Gene Krupa whips off two drum solos and a slew of old Hollwood contract players fill out the cast. (Henry Travers, the bulbous-nosed angel Clarence from "It's a Wonderful Life;"Oskar Homolka, the shifty husband from "Sabotage;" S.Z. Sakall, the plump, white-haired head waiter Carl from "Casablanca," as well as Leonid Kinskey, who was Sacha the bartender. And those are just the ones I recognized.)

The script itself is a model of hilarious elegance -- surprisingly so, considering it wasn't originally a stage play. The gold standard in this category would be "His Girl Friday," which clocks around with the efficiency of a Swiss watch. But my God, "Ball of Fire" takes this principle to an entirely new level, right down to the perfectly timed return of the garbage man. It has to be seen to be believed -- which is easily done, considering Amazon now has it on DVD for $14.99.

Less elegant but possibly even funnier (God, is that possible? Sure the fabric of space/time cannot contain more funniness?) was the second feature, "Twentieth Century." Are you sitting down? Okay. Howard Hawks directs; screenplay by Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur (as in "His Girl Friday") with uncredited punch up from Preston Sturges and Gene Fowler. Carole Lombard is hilarious and essentially topless for all but the first scene (the film opened in 1934, i.e., before the Hayes Code drained the filth and gratuitous nipple shots out of movies.) And? And? You want more? Yes, you do. And very wise you are, at that.

John Barrymore knocking it Out. Off. The. Park. It's a role that walks the razor's edge of self-parody, but Barrymore locks into character and does not come out for so much as a nanosecond of the entire film. Everything that hasn't worked in the last four Jim Carrey movies, the last eight Robin Williams movies, plus miscellaneous seconds of Adam Sandler and Billy Crystal's careers? Look ye to John Barrymore in "Twentieth Century" to find the solution.

How can a mortal man narrow his eyes and hiss "You... ameoba!" without imploding at the contained hilarity? I don't know. How can one human being deliver the line "The iron door is closed!" four times in one script and yet, somehow, make you laugh harder every time? The mind boggles.

The script, in all honesty, is more ramshackle than "Ball of Fire," but I don't mind, and I don't think you will either. It's another must own, and yes, Amazon.com has "Twentieth Century" too, for $12.99.

The WGA is still on strike, so I will point out that, of course, none of the guys I mentioned above -- Hecht, MacArthur, Sturges or Wilder -- gets dime one from these DVDs. But then, neither does any other writer whose work was produced before 1960. The WGA members sacrificed those payments in order to get the studios to pay residuals on all future projects. That's almost more astonishing that John Barrymore's performance in "Twentieth Century." Thousands of writers (and actors, and directors) giving up all right to compensation for past work, so other people could get paid in the future.