Back in 2017, I posted what is considered the best "making of" documentary about a Broadway show cast album.  It was called Original Cast Album: Company, about the making of Stephen Sondheim's musical Company.  The film was directed by acclaimed documentarian D.A. Pennebaker, and what made it stand out was that it was not made as a feel-good promotional vehicle for the musical, but showed how the album was made, warts and all.  It's most famous sequence was when Elaine Stritch, wearing her sailor's cap throughout, was not able to get her showstopping number, The Ladies Who Lunch, right -- and kept getting more frustrated and upset as the clock ticked to morning.  And they finally had to send everyone home, to try and get it the next day.

If you haven't seen it, you can watch it here.  And I highly recommend that, not just because it's so good...but also it will make today's video all the better. 

There's a wonderful series on the IFC Channel, Documentary Now!, which is a parody of documentary series on PBS.  The show has a strong Saturday Night Live pedigree, being created by Fred Armisen, Bill Hader, Seth Meyers, and Rhys Thomas. And they often get very well-known actors to take part, including Cate Blanchett (who's been in three), Owen Wilson, Michael Keaton, Jack Black, Anne Hathaway, Faye Dunaway, Kenny Loggins, Haim and more -- sometimes in a leading role, sometimes as "talking heads."  In fact, the authoritative, serious host who introduces each half-hour film is Helen Mirren.

Back in 2019, they did one of my favorites -- a parody of that Pennebaker documentary about a musical called Co-Op.  It was written by Seth Meyers and John Mulaney (which confirms my suspicion that it's been Mulaney who writes all the musical parodies whenever he guest hosts SNL.)  It's meticulous in its detail, down to an Elaine Stritch-like character wearing a little sailor-like cap throughout.  And happily, I was able to track the production down online.

The Documentary Now! film, which they properly call "Original Cast Album: Co-Op" is funny on its own, though I think it goes to another level if you watch the Pennebaker film first.

But however you choose to fly, here it is. 

On this week’s episode of 3rd and Fairfax, the official podcast of the Writers Guild of America, the guests are screenwriters Karen McCullah & Kirsten ‘Kiwi” Smith, who wrote the films 10 Things I Hate About You and The Ugly Truth.  They talk about writing the comedy Legally Blonde, which was named one of the “WGA’s 101 Greatest Screenplays of the 21st Century (*so far).”

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​Yesterday, I posted this article and video.  It showed up fine, but then disappeared.  I'm posted it again this morning, hoping it would post properly.  It did -- and then disappeared after I posted the "Writers Talk" piece with HTML code in it.  So, here's a third attempt, after which I will try to remember not to post anything with HTML code so that things stay posted.  That will mean a lot of things don't get posted as did before, but at least what's here will stay here -- hopefully.  From time to time, I may test HTML code again, but we'll see..

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It is not shocking to say that of course I think Laurel & Hardy’s The Music Box is hilarious.  It's even so great that it won Laurel & Hardy their only Oscar, getting the Academy Award in 1932 for Best Short Subject, Comedy.

What is boggling, though, is that all my life – as much as I love the movie – I thought it was only about them pushing the piano up the stairs.  That’s all I ever have seen.  I had no idea that that was only half the movie.  Honest.  It was always described as a “short,” so I figured, okay, it’s 15 minutes, that’s a short.  That’s all it is.  And for all I know, some of you may have thought that, as well, and most people.  Or not. 

The other day, however, it was listed on the Movies! Channel, and I saw it was scheduled for an hour.  I knew that they have commercials, but not that many.  So, I was intrigued and put it on – and finally saw the whole 30-minute thing!  Twice as long as I'd always thought.  And it’s absolutely tremendous.  The second-half part, after the famous stairs sequence, takes place up at the house, where they're trying to deliver the piano.  And the second half inside the house is hilarious.  How they keep coming up with wonderful comic non-stop business there is amazing.  In fact, what impressed me was that if that was all the movie had been, just the 15-minutes at the house, it still would have been great on its own and would likely be remembered as among their best work for a short.  (The little patriotic dance they do with the player piano is almost as funny as their legendary “At the Ball, That’s All” dance in Way Out West.)  When you then add the classic stairs sequence on top of it, the full perspective of The Music Box is a total, unabashed joy.

While I stand by my explanation that, knowing it won the Oscar as a short, that's why I accepted the 15-minute stair sequence as the whole thing -- it is still beyond me that have no idea how I never knew there was another half of the movie.  But…better later than never.  Now, after having finally seen the whole movie, as much as I loved The Music Box before, it’s just remarkable.
 
And what’s so remarkable about it is that even without the classic, legendary first half on the stairs, the second half is still utterly hilarious all on its own.  But with the stair sequence, it transcends “utterly hilarious.”  I thought it was a masterpiece before, and that was only seeing half of it.  I haven't figured out the proper adjective for the whole thing.  Though "masterpiece" will have to do -- and fits just fine.

This is a fascinating and funny video -- most especially if you’ve seen the movie Catch Me If You Can.  It’s from the Tonight Show in 1978 -- an interview between Johnny Carson and the real-life Frank Abagnale.  Yes, that Frank Abagnale, the imposter con man who Leonardo DiCapprio played in the 2002 movie, chased by Tom Hanks (and directed by Stephen Spielberg).
 
What it also is…is 18 minutes long, so they get into a great deal, and it’s a very nice job of interviewing by a  clearly-engrossed Johnny Carson (just look at his expression in the freeze-frame below...), knowing that it's best to rarely interrupt Abignale in order to let him tell his stories. 
 
Those stories include a few that later made their way into the movie, and so we get the fully accurate versions.  For instance, he tells about posing as an airline pilot, which is one of last cons in the movie, but here he says it was his first.  And there’s his story about being with the famous model who worked as a prostitute (played in the movie by Jennifer Garner) -- though what he explains here has a great deal more information than in the film and some hilarious twists. 

One thing that I especially liked is that at the beginning of the interview Johnny Carson mentions that Abagnale’s life story is similar to that of Ferdinand Waldo Demara about who the movie, The Great Imposter was made with Tony Curtis – that I wrote about here in 2017.  

It looks like the two other guests are actors Jill Ireland and George Peppard who become so intrigued by it all that they even jump in with questions.  By the way, at one point Carson gets bleeped.  I suspect that – without giving away what his joke is -- the word that got bleeped was “screwed.”

This is only 19 seconds, but it may be my favorite exchange in all movies.  It's a famous clip, so I'm sure many, if not most people here have seen it.  But it's so wonderful that sometimes you just want post brilliance for the pure joy of it.  Such things make life seem better.

The movie in question is Dinner at Eight, made all the way back in 1933.  But in the 89 years since, through all the following years, the exchange remains a gem.

It's not just great for it's famous payoff -- both the line and delivery -- but the pure physicality of Marie Dressler's double-take at the beginning, in response to nothing more than a simple comment, is in competition as the best-ever in movies and for my taste if the scene ended right there, after just four seconds, this still might be my favorite movie exchange.  That it has a topper to even that great joke makes it legendary.  And Jean Harlow's matter-of-fact performance allows the scene to transcend from just a dumb blonde joke.

And then, yes, there's that classic payoff punchline, set up with comic timing from Dressler that is a Master Class.  All beautifully written with a screenplay by Frances Marion and Herman J. Mankiewicz, based on the play by George S. Kaufman and Edna Ferber.  Directed by George Cukor.

I know that one shouldn't overpraise things because it's hard to live up to.  I'm okay with heavy praise for the scene.  Indeed, it's how the movie ends.  This is 19 seconds of filmmaking that shows the joy and majesty of simplicity and wit.