San Francisco Chronicle - (Sunday)
Ask Mick LaSalle: Don’t tell us that people in real life use untoward language. It can’t be true.
Dear Mick LaSalle: Concerning the f-word in “The Wife”: That’s how people talk? No, Mick. That’s not how people talk in real life. That’s how people talk in the movies.
Paul Sparrow, San Rafael Dear Paul Sparrow: If you had a dollar for every time the f-word was used in the United States over the course of one 24-hour period, you could buy an office building in downtown San Francisco. And maybe throw in a sports team. That is really how people talk, and it’s also how people talk when they’re under pressure. And the people in the movies? They are always under pressure. So, in one way, you have a point. Esteemed Mick LaSalle: A couple weeks back, when Doris Day died, I noticed you published a long, detailed tribute to her life and career. Since it was published only a day after her death, I assume you had put most of the work into that piece sometime earlier. I’m curious about the details of that writing process. Was Doris Day a particular favorite of yours?
Jim Inscore, Glen Park Esteemed Jim Inscore: OK, so imagine this: You’re walking down the street, minding your own business, when a cop comes up to you and says, “Hey, you. See the church over there? You have to go in and do the eulogy for Person X. Now!” As you’re being led off, unwillingly, you point out that you’ve never met the person, and that you are only loosely familiar with their work. No matter. There’s the church. There’s the lectern. There’s the congregation, staring up at you. So, what do you say? Well, you have three choices. You can be honest and say, “You want the truth? I barely liked their work, and I really don’t care that they’re dead! Sorry, folks, but doing this is just a big inconvenience!” Or you can be dishonest, but appropriate, and talk about how you loved everything the person ever did, and how brilliant they were. Or — the best choice — you can be honest in a different way and figure out what you actually liked about the person. Because usually, if the person was prominent, and you look inside, you can find something to say that’s both appropriate and true.
In the case of Doris Day, that obituary was written in 2014, and we had it online within an hour or two of her death being announced (with some factual additions from my editor about where the death happened, etc.). Doris Day is not a particular favorite of mine at all. If you go back and look, you’ll see that I don’t say a single positive thing about any of her movies. Everything I say about them is either neutral or negative. She made films in a period that I have little interest in and to an extent even dislike, the 1950s. But I always liked her — her positive personality, her resilience, her sense of self. I agree with the film critic Molly Haskell, that Doris Day was an unsung feminist. And I really liked her as a band singer. So, I used all that. All that was real. I didn’t have to say a single thing that I didn’t think was true, and I didn’t have to disappoint all those mourners who were staring at me, waiting for me to say something. Always, always, you can never write anything that’s any good unless you’re honest. You just have to figure out the right way to be honest.
Hail Darth Mick: I have been a huge movie person my whole life. I seem to have hit a wall with most popular actors. I don’t think I will ever enjoy, or want to see, a Meryl Streep movie again. Likewise, De Niro, Hanks, Julia Roberts, etc.
Zoe Corsi, Alameda Hail Darth Zoe: If they don’t spark joy, thank them for their service, and throw them away. Then branch out. Get into Javier Cámara (Spain), Ricardo Darin (Argentina), Giovanna Mezzogiorno (Italy), and everybody in France. To start, go on Netflix and watch “The Fury of a Patient Man” — a great Spanish film, never released in the United States.