Ask Mick LaSalle:
What about all these warehouse doors slamming?
Dear Mick: I’ve noticed a ubiquitous sound effect in many films these days. It could be described as a “warehouse door slam.” What do you make of this? Kurt Huget, San Rafael
Dear Kurt: Perhaps the decline in American manufacturing has resulted in a lot of empty warehouses, which have been repurposed for entertainment purposes. I know exactly the sound you’re talking about, and that’s a good description.
Dear Mick: “Dunkirk” is better explained as a documentary. Mars Breslow, San Francisco
Dear Mars: True, but that’s also true about any real-life subject. “Dunkirk” is better experienced if you actually know something about what happened at Dunkirk, just as “Ray” is better if you’ve heard of Ray Charles. But is that a problem? Dunkirk was at least as big a deal as Ray Charles or Johnny Cash. To expect people to know something about what happened there isn’t unreasonable, and then once you know, you’ll be ready for the uncompromising, immersive experience that the movie provides.
Dearest Mick: Have you ever assessed the ability of an actor or actress based on their ability to shed real tears? Tom Hulsey, Walnut Creek
Dearest Tom: No. As the acting teacher Robert Lewis (1909-1997) once said, “If crying were the sole object of acting, my Aunt Rivka would have been Duse.” The thing is, as soon as you take an acting class, you realize that crying while acting is fairly easy, a kind of obvious default — just as it’s the easiest emotional default to laugh like an idiot while bantering on the local news. I used to wonder why people on the news always banter and giggle in a silly way — I used to think they were putting it on, until I started doing news segments myself and found myself doing it automatically, almost compulsively. Both examples are nervous reactions, or at least a channeling of nerves. I mean, sure, there are great crying scenes, but they’re tricky, because in real life, the last thing any of us wants to do is cry. It’s usually embarrassing, or inconvenient, or even humiliating. So if an actor’s crying scene has even a whiff of wanting to do it, it’s almost automatically no good.
Hey Mick: I found “Jules and Jim” tedious and irritating. When I look at critic reviews, they are very positive. So can I get your thoughts about the merits of this movie? Mike Sanders, Sea Ranch
Hey Mike: I saw “Jules and Jim” in a college film appreciation class, when I was 20, and I didn’t like it at all. But years later, I figured that I must have been wrong, especially as its creator, Francois Truffaut, became one of my all-time favorite filmmakers. So when Criterion put out this title a few years ago, I settled in for a good night of getting reacquainted with this masterpiece — and I lasted 40 minutes. I just don’t like it. I couldn’t get through it. It might be a great movie, but its appeal continues to elude me.
Dear Mick LaSalle: Of the great stage actresses who also appeared in the movies, who do you think were the most effective in film and why? Fred Henderson, Albany
Dear Fred Henderson: There are too many for me to identify one as the most effective, so I’ll just name two that I think were particularly great — Ann Harding (1902-1981) and Margaret Sullavan (1911-1960). Both were magnificent on camera. In terms of her acting, Harding was decades ahead of her time. In the old days, actors acted on the lines, and these days most actors act between the lines. Harding acted between the lines. You can see her thinking as she spoke. It’s a technique that’s ideal for cinema, though she was said to have been a great stage actress, too — praised by George Bernard Shaw, no less. And Margaret Sullavan had such a remarkable personality — there was just no one like her — a combination of the most delicate looks, a husky voice and a relentless will. Both actresses are miraculous — they’ll remain miraculous forever. Seek them out.