Jacynda Johnson
I sat in my living room curled up on the couch with a fleece blanket tucked under my feet and a cup of apple cider resting nearby on the coffee table. My eyes were glued to the TV screen as Ilsa Lund and Rick Blaine said their goodbyes before Ilsa boarded the plane to Lisbon. I held my breath as Rick said, “Here’s looking at you kid,” and Ilsa tearfully turned away with Laslo. It was the perfect love story.
From that time on, I have been obsessed with classic movies. It didn’t help that my parents were firm believers in wholesome movies. Our movie collection was complete with Cary Grant, Joan Crawford, John Wayne, Gary Cooper, Ginger Rogers, and many more. I once asked my mom what constituted as a wholesome movie. She said, with conviction, it was a movie that did not, in her words, “dumb down America.” Any movie or television show that remotely suggests stupidity, dirty humor, or a senseless plot was not allowed in the house. So I enjoyed my old movies with my parents laughing right alongside me.
In high school, I discovered quickly that most of my peers did not grow up with these wholesome movies. "Did you see this movie?" became one of the most frustrating questions to answer. The answer was usually no. I didn’t watch South Park or the Simpsons or most of the popular releases that became the topic of school conversation. As I moved through the halls of my school, I slowly discovered that those funny jokes and random one-liners originated from a movie and not from my friend as I had thought. When I sensed a movie joke starting, I zoned out from the conversation because I had no clue what they were talking about. It was easier to do that rather than ruin the joke as they tried to explain the situation to me—if they even attempted to explain it—which many did not.
While I couldn’t stand the humor of Napoleon Dynamite, I laughed after Audrey Hepburn asked Cary Grant if there was a Mrs. Joshua, in Charade—it was the third time he changed his name in the movie and each time she inquired about his marital status. Scenes like this—a little line, a phrase, an inflection of someone’s voice—would bring me back to different scenes of Rear Window, Vertigo, Gaslight, or To Catch a Thief. I could sit all day watching James Stewart and John Wayne drawl their way through a western. I would read up on the lives of Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall and then watch the movies they made together. I was definitely obsessed.
In many ways, I felt that I had missed out in life; I felt as if I had been born in the wrong era. Although I have no appreciation for dresses or skirts, to this day, I felt I should have been parading around with scarves tied around my hair and driving in a 1950's Chevrolet with sleek fins curving off the back. I imagined that my mother was the persona of June Cleaver from Leave it to Beaver and that life consisted of sleek dresses, high heels, heavily hair-sprayed hair-dos, and the fashion statements of Audrey Hepburn. But I lived in the 2000’s, not the 1950’s. Instead, I could only watch and wish from an era of technology, Lady Gaga, and cheap versions of the styles of the 60’s, 70’s, and 80’s.
It wasn't until I went to college that I found a kindred spirit with the same love for old movies and Studio Era celebrities. My roommate Alisa had an even larger collection of classic movies than I did. We would spend our weekends at her house and enjoy the antics of Bing Crosby, Katherine Hepburn, Sidney Poitier, and Clark Gable. We laughed and giggled and critiqued each movie. We declared our never-ending love for our favorite actors and defended them when the other unjustly criticized their performance. We were filled with laughter for the rest of the night and would bring up our favorite lines over and over, laughing harder each time.
The enjoyment that we shared over our beloved old movies never transitioned to a newer film. While Alisa and I watched the X-Men series and The Last Song, we weren’t as excited as we talked about them later. These were good movies in their own way, but we didn’t experience the bouts of laughter as we did watching Cary Grant’s priceless expressions in Arsenic and Old Lace as he dealt with two harmless old aunts who had murdered thirteen men as a means of helping them out of their misery.
Although I watch films made today, I can never enjoy them as much as I do a classic movie. The plots, the humor, the characters—they’re all different today. Studio Era films are innocent while today's movies are intertwined with rash emotions, sexual content, violence, and language. The humor and wit of Lauren Bacall, Jimmy Stewart, Cary Grant, and Ingrid Bergman are missing from today’s comedies. Instead, we are fed slapstick, senseless humor. There is no more battle of the sexes through the wits but rather through gender wars. Women depict tough cops or battered victims of sordid acts who compete with their male counterparts to prove who is better. The popular TV shows of today, like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Law and Order, True Blood, NCIS, render loveless marriages, vampires, promiscuity, unspeakable crimes, and content not appropriate for families. I’ll stick to I Love Lucy.
Even today’s acting is second-rate. CSI: Miami’s characters fade out from the screen with the clichéd Grim Expression; rarely does the viewer see any elation or joy in these TV shows. But I sit through Notorious, directed by Alfred Hitchcock, and try to pick up every expression, every emotion, and every hint of the plot from the actors. The subtle hints intrigue me far more than the blatant acting of Julia Roberts or Will Ferrell. As I watch Gaslight and Wait Until Dark, I can see the thoughts of Audrey Hepburn and Ingrid Bergman as they discover how they’ve been tricked. Bergman’s portrayal of a woman driven to insanity by her husband is a priceless performance and a fascinating psychological study.
I’ll always prize my classic movies over today’s hits. The superior acting, the intelligent humor, and the wholesome plots appeal to my desire for the good ol’ days. I can sit through an old classic movie, smile the whole way through, and leave satisfied.
