The Life of Emile Zola

“You know that people don’t want to see the stark face of truth.  They would much prefer perfumed lights like these.  They ought to be burned like something unclean.”
“Why Paul that’s splendid!  Why didn’t you think of that before?  We shall have a fire!”
“We could sell them and—“
“What?  And expose others to their stinking hypocrisies?  No my friend.  We’ll burn them…and let their lying pages warm the bones of men of truth!”

--Paul Cezanne to Emile Zola, when Zola decides to burn their books, The Life of Emile Zola

It has been a whirlwind few weeks, and I'm sorry to say that my blogging has suffered because of it.  But never fear, I haven't abandoned my quest!  Again, I think it didn't help that this wasn't a movie I was in any way interested in.  And I have to say it is quite jarring to see an opening title card claiming that the biopic I am about to watch is not historically accurate. So despite an opportunity to witness one of Paul Muni’s remarkable performances, this biopic is overacted, lacking in plot, and, well…yawn…

The Plot

Cezanne and Zola in their attic

 It is 1862, and radical political writer Emile Zola, played by Paul Muni, and his childhood friend, painter Paul Cezanne, share a poorly insulated attic in Paris that they can’t afford.  Luckily, Zola’s mother and fiancé burst in and proclaim that they have finally found a job for Zola, working for a local printer.  Zola and Alexandrine, his fiancé, can finally be married while Zola makes some money and still has time for his writing.  But even with Alexandrine to support, Zola refuses to stop publishing his incendiary articles and books, finally causing him to lose his job.  He writes the truth, exposing both the government and various bureaucracies to ridicule.  But it is not until his story of a poor and heartbroken prostitute, Nana, hits the stands that he is finally able to make money off his writing.  Cue the obligatory montage of the famous novels of Zola.

Zola, Cezanne, and Nana evade the police

It is many years later and the film focuses on the “Dreyfus Affair.”  Commandant Esterhazy has been selling French military secrets to the Germans, and one of his letters is finally seized.  The military officials are unsure who to blame, and therefore with no evidence decide to focus on Jewish Captain Alfred Dreyfus, played by Joseph Schildkraut in an Oscar-winning performance.  With a mockery of a trial (which includes forged evidence) the French military officials rip Dreyfus away from his young family and send him into life imprisonment on Devil’s Island.  After a few years, new military intelligence chief, Colonel Picquart, reviews the evidence and declares it is Esterhazy, not Dreyfus, who is guilty.  But the other officials refuse to admit to a mistake, and while Esterhazy is tried, they do not convict the higher ranking official.  Picquart is bundled off to Africa where he can’t cause trouble.  Though no one will listen to her, Dreyfus’s wife, played by Gale Sondergaard, continues to fight on his behalf.

Dreyfus and his family

Meanwhile, Zola has grown old, rich, and respected.  Though Cezanne finally leaves him for the country, claiming he has grown too complacent, Zola is happy in his old age and about to be accepted as a member of the French Academy.  But when Dreyfus’s wife shows up at his door, he is unable, despite his reluctance, to ignore an injustice of this magnitude.  He publishes his most famous piece, an article called “J’accuse!” on the front page of a local newspaper.   In it he accuses both the President and high ranking military officials of corruption and anti-Semitism.  His article causes the French people to riot in the streets and the government to charge him with libel.

Cezanne tells Zola that all artists should stay poor

Despite an intelligent and impassioned plea from his lawyer, Zola is convicted in a long courtroom scene.  It is clear that the government and military are so corrupt, Zola and Dreyfus will never get a fair hearing.  He must go into hiding in England rather than be arrested.  Finally, however, new government officials reopen the case and pardon both Zola and Dreyfus.  Zola has a new lease on life, and is happily writing away when he passes out due to the carbon monoxide leaking from his chimney.  While Dreyfus is being given military awards and pardoned in public the next day, the word suddenly reaches him that Zola has just died.  The final scene of the film is a long, intense monologue that sums up the entire plot of the movie and the moral lesson of integrity we were supposed to learn at Zola's elaborate funeral.

Zola on trial

The History
Paul Muni told Jack Warner that he wanted to be Emile Zola.  So Warner put the film into motion for one of his highest grossing stars.  He hired William Dieterle, the director who had won Muni a “Best Actor” Oscar for his previous film, The Story of Louis Pasteur.  One more overblown, moralistic biopic later, and Warner had another hit on his hands.  The Life of Emile Zola was Warner Brothers' highest grossing film of the year. Time magazine called it “the outstanding prestige picture of the season” and the New York Film Critics awarded it both Best Picture and Best Actor awards.  It received the most Oscar nominations of that year (10) and won for “Best Picture,” “Best Supporting Actor,” and “Best Screenplay.”  Warner, thrilled with his first award for “Best Picture,” called the film “the masterpiece this industry has so highly honored.”  While the film has since been selected for preservation by the Library of Congress for being "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant," this film has largely faded into obscurity.  RottenTomatoes.com sums its legacy up the best: “Well-written, well-meaning and solidly acted, the film may ultimately be more earnest than interesting.”

Paul Muni as Emile Zola

As far as the Awards go, this year was the biggest year for Capra to make peace.  In the Academy’s new charter, they officially relinquished any interest in regulating labor disputes and proclaimed that anyone involved in an official guild could vote for the awards, causing the voting numbers to jump from 800 to 15,000, most of whom were extras.  The Awards had to be postponed a few weeks because of storms and flooding, but when they finally arrived there was as much as drama as ever.  Though not everyone went (including Muni, who declared that since he won the previous year, arriving again would just “embarrass everyone”) the biggest coup would come when Luise Rainer won again for “Best Actress,” the first to ever win twice in a row.  Rainer also gave birth to what has now become known as the “Oscar curse.”  After her double win, her studio didn’t feel the need to exert themselves and she never got another good part from Hollywood.  Dealing with a dissolving marriage and a society where she felt she just did not fit in, Rainer finally returned to Europe in 1938 for good.

Joseph Schildkraut as Captain Alfred Dreyfus

The Verdict?
Here is the single biggest thing that bothers me about this movie: the opening title card.  I can get past the outdated acting, the moralizing and the pontificating, even the strange meandering script.  But this?  This completely throws me for a loop.

This film is a historical biopic.  I know this because the title of the film claims it is the story of a famous French writer.  So why does the opening card tell me that this film is fiction?  I actually don’t even really know what this is trying to say: “With the exception of known historical characters, whose actual names are herein used, no identification with actual persons, living or dead, is intended or should be inferred.”  So, basically, everyone in this film who is named after a real person is real, but everyone else is fabricated.  And possibly others. What??

Its honesty should be refreshing.  As a lover of history, I can’t count the number of times I have yelled at the screen of a movie while watching it completely butcher history (looking at you, Elizabeth).  I understand that, given certain time constraints, it is difficult to come up with a completely accurate movie.  Unless you are looking to do a BBC miniseries, it is necessary to scale a picture back.  Sometimes altering or shortening history can benefit a film, and as long as the movie is good and doesn’t severely alter a beloved story, I can stick around to watch something that’s not quite true.  But even though I know the director is taking liberties with reality, I don’t want him to tell me before the movie starts!  This title card completely undermines the film.  If, other than the title character, this film is not based on fact, and the entire purpose of the film is the tell the story of a real person’s life, then what’s the point?  I spent the entire film attempting to ascertain what was real and what wasn’t, and wondering why I couldn’t just find another film that did tell me the truth about  Emile Zola.  Message to directors:  lie to me, I don’t want to know where you embroidered the facts until I go home and use Wikipedia.

Other than that jarring title card, this film plods along predictably enough.  What’s strange for me is the first half hour of the movie.  The film is 2 hours long, and only the first half hour isn’t about the “Dreyfus Affair.”  This is what Zola is remembered for, but if they had cut the first half hour and devoted the whole movie to the “Dreyfus Affair” I would have been much less confused.  A half hour in, Dreyfus has become famous, achieved his goals, written all his books, and is about to retire.  I found myself asking where the rest of the movie was headed.  They could have summed the beginning of the movie up in one good title card.  One that didn’t undermine the whole film.

Ultimately, I agree with RottenTomatoes.com.  Muni and Schildkraut give convincing performances, and the creators of this movie clearly want to show us how earnest and moral they are.  But pompous dialogue, a confusing script, and one very silly title card combine to make this film one of those better left in the past.

Help!  I'm drowning in overacted bravado!  Maybe I can count on Capra to pull me out of it?

A Real Artichoke--About as complex as a Ziegfeld show?

As the title suggests, this time around I decided to make artichokes, a vegetable that I've found few people I know have ever eaten whole.  Most people I know have only encountered the heart of the vegetable, and usually only as a topping on pizza or as a dip ingredient.  But artichokes on their own are delicious, and while slightly labor intensive, not impossible for the average person to make.  And it's not just because I'm Italian, both my dinner guests enjoyed them too.  Even if you think you don't like artichokes, eating them this way makes them taste very different.  So try it!

How to Prep an Artichoke:

There are numerous videos on this, just google how to prepare an artichoke if you're still unsure.  Here's how I do it, as taught by my grandmother.  I'm using miniature artichokes here, this may be easier your first time around.

You'll Need:
Scissors
Sharp knife
Melon baller/or spoon equivalent

Rinse off the artichoke and use the scissors to trim the stems.

 

Using the scissors, trim the tops of the leaves until you reach the final leaves in the center.

Place the artichoke sideways on a cutting board and slice off the top.

Use your fingers to stretch and separate the leaves until the center is more open. Watch out for the "choke," the spiky center leaves can hurt if you're not paying attention.

Using the melon baller or its equivalent, scoop out all the purple stuff in the center.  Again, watch your hands.

Where to go from here...

Apparently the French steam the artichokes upside down, without first digging out the purple center and opening the leaves.  They eat them dipped in melted butter as well, which is how I first had an artichoke.  But my grandmother's recipe involves stuffing them with homemade bread crumbs and I highly recommend this.

To make the bread crumbs you'll need:

About a loaf of fresh white bread (Ciabatta, Italian, baguette, etc)

3-4 large cloves of garlic (more depending on taste)

1/2-1 cup of freshly grated Parmesan cheese

3 Tbsps olive oil

1. Boil about1 1/2 inches of water in a large stockpot.
2. Rip up the bread into small pieces into a medium sized bowl.
3. Chop or press the garlic into small pieces and add it to the bread along with the olive oil and the cheese.  Toss everything together.
4. Stuff the bread crumbs into the artichoke's center and in between the leaves, filling as much as you can.
5. Place the artichoke stem side down in the pot, leaning again the side.
6. Cover the pot and let steam for at least 30 minutes, until the leaves are tender and dark green.

Last, but not least, is my section on how to eat an artichoke. Read carefully.

Pull one of the leaves out (it should easily break away if it is cooked right) and bite down on the end with the "meat."  This is the white fleshy part near the stem.  Hold onto the leaf and grip it using your teeth, before pulling the leaf back out of your mouth.  DO NOT EAT THE LEAF.  Apparently some people do, but you're really not supposed to.  It is gross and will seriously discompose your digestive system.  You want the white, meaty part of the artichoke.  You should be able to use your teeth to scrape off the white part.

 When you finish the artichoke, the center contains the "heart" probably the part you're most familiar with.  You can eat that, and it should taste all cheese-bread-garlic yummyness.  I also enjoy dipping the leaves in butter before eating  the white part.  Yet another example of how cheese and butter can make anything good.

If you're still confused, here is a helpful video on how to eat artichokes.  But again, don't eat the leaf.  According to family legend, my step-grandfather once went out to dinner with a co-worker he disliked.  They ordered artichokes, and the co-worker popped the leaves in his mouth, chewing and swallowing them.  "Hey, these are pretty tough!" he said.  And my grandfather didn't say anything, just gleefully laughed on the inside.  Don't make his mistake!

The Great Ziegfeld

"Do you realize you gave me five pounds?"
"Yes, I'm trying to lose weight."

--Hotel Doorman to Florenz Ziegfeld Jr, The Great Ziegfeld

Better than I expected, but considering my expectations were somewhat low, I don't necessarily know if that's a good thing.  This film is a biopic about famed Broadway producer, Florenz Ziegfeld Jr.  While it is entertaining, and Luise Rainer manages to completely steal the show, this film is way too long with its slavish devotion to replicating Ziegfeld's famed "Follies" sets.  From a historic perspective, it is great to see people like Fanny Brice and Ray Bolger, and to get a chance to see what going to "Ziegfeld's Follies" in the 1920s would have been like.  From a cinematic perspective, eh, not so much.

The Plot

Ziegfeld with Sandow, the strong-man

Florenz Ziegfeld Jr., played by William Powell, is the son of a respected music professor in Chicago.  While he is charming and intelligent, his strong-man show at the World's Fair struggles with its competition, Jack Billings's (played by Frank Morgan) "Little Egypt" show until he realizes that allowing women to feel the strong man's muscles will increase his attendance.  Suddenly the strong-man, Sandow, is famous and Ziegfeld is rich.  Ziegfeld, however, has a tendency to spend more than he has, and after he gambles away all his money, he follows Billings to London to book a new star, Anna Held, played by Luise Rainer.  Though Billings has almost signed her, Ziegfeld charms Anna into accompanying him to America though he hasn't a cent.  Anna is a highly strung, emotional French actress, but she soon begins to adore "Flo."

Luise Rainer as Anna Held

Anna's entrance onto the American stage is rocky, but with Ziegfeld's savy PR skills, he makes her into a star, as well as his wife.  Anna is passionately devoted to him, but while he showers her with diamonds, his attention begins to move elsewhere.  He decides to throw all of his money into a new show, one replete with beautiful girls, elaborate costumes, and complicated dance numbers.  He calls it "Ziegfeld's Follies," and while at first he is broke, he later makes his "Follies" the most popular show on Broadway.  This trend continues, but his passion for beautiful things makes his life difficult.  His beautiful mistress upsets his beautiful wife, while his taste for beautiful objects continually causes him to be broke.  Anna finally divorces him in an attempt to get his attention and reel him back while his mistress, who has devolved into a drunk, leaves him and his shows.  It is then that he meets Billie Burke, played by Myrna Loy.

Anna and her new jewelry while Zeigfeld's mistress Audrey looks on 

Billie Burke, a famous new starlet, arrives at a party on the arm of Billings, but Ziegfeld snatches her away.  She refuses to fall for his consider charm, and this makes him fall even harder for her.  He confesses his love, and they marry.  Anna's plan has backfired spectacularly, but even though her heart is broken, she graciously calls and congratulates him on his marriage in a scene that would later win her an Oscar.

Billie Burke and Ziegfeld have a daughter, Patricia, but Ziegfeld's shows are having trouble competing with the emerging popularity of motion pictures and a shift in entertainment tastes.  He is broke again, but while he is in a barber shop, he overhears strangers discussing how he has lost his edge.  In a rage he leaves and swears he will have four hits on Broadway--all at once.  His wife volunteers all her jewelry and money and professes her faith in him.  Ziegfeld ends up having four hits at once, and invites these men to see them all.  In his moment of triumph, Ziegfeld calls to check on the stocks he has bought with all his profits.  But the stock market has crashed and Ziegfeld is again broke.  The shows close and Ziegfeld falls deathly ill.

Ziegfeld and Billie Burke

Billie must go back to work as an actress, but she calls to check in with her beloved husband.  Billings goes to visit Ziegfeld and inspires him to rise up, and make his next show.  Ziegfeld is seized with enthusiastic vigor, and pushes open his curtains to see his theater.  Back in his chair he visualizes his elaborate sets and wants stairs that are higher, grander, better...until he slumps, his eyes go glassy, and he dies all alone.

Elaborate set of "Ziegfeld's Follies"

The History

This film was made a mere three years after Florenz Ziegfeld's death in 1932.  Universal originally bought the rights to the film from Ziegfeld's widow, who had returned to acting to pay off her husband's substantial debts.  William Powell was engaged to play Ziegfeld, and Burke would play herself.  Fanny Brice, Judy Garland, Eddie Cantor and Ray Bolger were all hired to play themselves, as all had previously been in a Ziegfeld show.  But the picture was proving expensive, so Universal sold it to MGM and decided to make Show Boat instead.  Only Powell, Brice, and Bolger made it to the final film.  The longest musical sequence, "A Pretty Girl is Like a Melody," pictured above, took $220,000, 180 performers, 4,300 yards of rayon silk, and several weeks to reach its final cut.  The film would eventually cost MGM $2 million dollars, but would make over $40 million.

Burke in real life (left), Myrna Loy as Burke (right)

Though Burke was instrumental in writing the script and preserving her husband's good name (note the noticeable pairing down of his infidelities), she was not a huge fan of the final film.  While the film is considered to give a good, overall view of his life, there are many inaccuracies.  It did, however, win Academy Awards for "Best Picture," "Best Actress," and "Best Dance Direction."  It was nominated for awards in directing, art direction, film editing, and original screenplay.  On Rotten Tomatoes, the film has received only a 60% fresh rating, and it is considered today to be largely dated and forgotten.  But even in 1936, the picture's win raised eyebrows and a Hollywood Citizen-News journalist wrote"an atrocious production...a picture false in biography, a glittering avalanche of legs and tinsel...a truer demonstration of the stupidity and rank barbarism of these times had never been more ably given."  Louis B. Mayer's response? He threw a party for the film weeks later, where women came out of a cake dressed as "Follies" girls, Billie Burke got a new brooch, and everyone got miniature Oscar replicas.  Florenz Ziegfeld would have been proud.

Irving G. Thalberg Award

The animosity towards the Academy was dying down, and Frank Capra decided to keep the ball rolling.  As Academy President that year, he revamped the voting procedures and added new categories, including "Best Supporting Actor" and "Best Supporting Actress."  He also upped the ticket prices to augment the Academy's dwindling funds: tickets were $5 for members, $10 for guests, and $25 for everyone else.  People complained, but all 1,150 seats for dinner sold out.  Most importantly, however, that year marked the sudden and unexpected death of "Boy Wonder" producer, Irving Thalberg, from pneumonia at age 37.  Responsible for nearly all of MGM's hit films to date, many Award winning, his death was a major blow to both Hollywood and his young wife, Norma Shearer.  In his honor, Capra created the Irving G. Thalberg Award, given to the producer with the most distinguished body of work in that year.  "It is to encourage," Capra claimed, "the pride, the fortitude, the good taste and tolerance that Thalberg put into pictures."

The Verdict?
I've decided that overall, I liked this movie, although I think I'd place my emotions at lukewarm.  This movie is most interesting for its ability to show historical evidence of what "Ziegfeld's Follies" would have been like.  The film was made just a few years after his death, and the height of popularity for "Ziegfeld's Follies" would have been only a decade previous.  That means that while not completely accurate, this film manages to portray just what it would have been like to attend a show in that era.  In addition, the film also includes several leading performers who actually were once in  "Ziegfeld's Follies."  Fannie Brice, better known as the person the movie Funny Girl is based on, is actually in the film as herself.  This film is a fascinating historical look into 1920s American theater.  If that is where your interest lies, I highly suggest this film.

Ziegfeld gives Fanny Brice a mink coat

Otherwise, my advise would be to skip it.  An important point to make before reaching An American in Paris:  most musicals made between 1930-1970 have at least one gratuitous musical sequence.  Singing in the Rain, Oklahoma, Anchors Away, and White Christmas are only a few of 100s of musicals that have at least one of these scenes.  Usually they begin as a dream sequence, a rehearsal, or even a show within a show, as in The Great Ziegfeld.  They have no real reference to the plot and sometimes go on for as long as eighteen minutes, as is the case with An American in Paris.  Usually theses scenes are to showcase the singing and dancing abilities of a certain star (Gene Kelly) but are only interesting as artistic pieces.  For The Great Ziegfeld, these scenes were interspersed between the plot, the longest and most lavish being the "A Pretty Girl is Like a Melody" sequence.  It's an incredible scene, but also ever so slightly boring.  The film is three hours long.  The whole plot is probably a little less than two hours of the film.  Next time, a little less show = a lot more entertaining. The best part of the movie?  Luise Rainer's performance as Anna Held.  Watch the video, you can't take your eyes away from her.

Ziegfeld removes Anna's stocking

On a completely unrelated note, I'd like to briefly point out the strange connections this film has to The Wizard of Oz.  Frank Morgan would go on to play the Wizard; Ray Bolger would be later cast as the Scarecrow.  Ray Bolger's dance scene looked familiar in The Great Ziegfeld, I later realized it was almost identical to the Scarecrow's opening number.  Billie Burke and Judy Garland, both original cast members for the movie, would later go on to play Glinda and Dorothy, respectively.  No idea why...weird coincidence?

Mutiny with Bananas

Well, it was destined to happen eventually.  Complete and abject failure.  Because Mutiny on the Bounty takes place in Tahiti, I thought it would be a nice idea to try something Tahitian.  I thought first to do something with breadfruit, as that plant figures so prominently in the film, but do you have any idea how difficult it is to find breadfruit in Boston?  After giving up that route, I found a recipe called a Po'e, a traditional Tahitian bread pudding.  The instructions were pretty easy, and I happily put my pudding in the oven, expecting exotic results.  I'll provide the instructions, should you feel intrepid.

Tahitians presumably making Po'e in Mutiny on the Bounty

Traditional Po'e

You'll need:
Ripe bananas, peeled and cut into chunks, 6-8
1 papaya
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 cup cornstarch
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup coconut cream

1. Preheat oven to 375°F. Puree the bananas and papaya in a blender or food processor. There should be enough puree to make 4 cups.
2. Mix together the brown sugar and cornstarch. Add this mixture and the vanilla to the bananas and process well. There should not be any lumps of starch. Adjust sugar to taste.
3. Butter a 2-quart baking dish and pour in the puree. Bake for 30-45 minutes, or until the pudding is firm and bubbling. Remove from oven and allow to cool. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate until well chilled.
4. Cut into cubes and place into a large serving bowl or in individual bowls. Top with a dollop of coconut cream, a little more brown sugar and serve.

Po'e pre-oven...you don't want to see the after...

What resulted was a kind of brown rubber hockey puck, vaguely tasting of bananas and glue.  I think I might have added too much cornstarch.  Picture a bananay cake thing that looks and tastes like an the inside of an old Fig Newton.  Fail.  I take it it does not taste this way when Tahitians bake it in banana leaves.  So much for being exotic.

So after throwing a temper tantrum, I made my own pudding dessert.  Screw the Tahitians.  But I added bananas because, well, at least it's a little tropical.

My Improvised Far-Cooler-Than-The-Po'e Pudding Pie
You'll Need:
1 1/2 cups heavy whipping cream
2 tbsps sugar
1 ready-made graham cracker crust, or Pillsbury regular crust
1 packages of instant chocolate pudding, pie filler
2 cups milk
Some graham crackers
A few bananas
A bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips

1. If you are using a Pillsbury crust, like I did, put the crust in a pie tin and bake for approximately 10 minutes.  Cool completely.
2. Follow the instructions on the pudding box and make it using the milk.
3. Usually some kind of electric mixer, whisk the heavy cream and sugar until it forms stiff peaks, making whipped cream.
4. Mix some of the whipped cream with the pudding to make it more mousse-like, about 1/2-1 cup.
5. Pour the pudding mixture into the crust.
6. Cover the top with the rest of the whipped cream.
7. Crush up some graham crackers and sprinkle them over the top.  Slice up the bananas and add them as well.
8. Melt the chocolate chips and drizzle that over the pie as desired.  Refrigerate at least an hour, until firm.

This recipe, or some variation of it, is my go-to dessert if I'm ever in a pinch.  It is easy, cheap, and quick to make.  Often, if I'm trying a new dessert for a party, I'll have a back-up dessert handy (like this one).  More than once, I've slaved all day making some extremely complicated torte or souffle, only to have it fall or crumble.  This is why it's always good to have a back-up dessert that is easy, quick and that everyone loves.  Who doesn't like chocolate pudding pie?  No one.  This way, you can still say you worked hard and made a dessert from scratch (kind of).  So once again, my pudding pie has saved the day.  Take that, Tahitians.

 PS-  If you're wondering why there are only bananas on half the pie, it's not because I'm trying some advanced pie aesthetic, it's because my roommate hates bananas and I didn't want to eat the whole thing myself. :-)