What I did yesterday afternoon, before I went to see Company: I went to the movies at Old Town Music Hall in El Segundo. Going to the movies at Old Town Music Hall in El Segundo, Dear Readers, involves a great deal more than just watching a film.
First, a word about the burg of El Segundo, California. The name itself translates as "The Second." I think it has to do with the fact that the city contains Chevron's second oil refinery in the state, or something like that. In any event, the city, which is in the southwestern coastal part of Los Angeles County, promotes itself as an ideal small town environment that is close to a big city. Of course, this would-be Mayberry is bordered on the north by Los Angeles International Airport, on the south by its namesake oil refinery, and on the west, between the city proper and the beach, by an enormous sewage treatment plant. Tres charmant, n'est-ce pas?
Old Town Music Hall is a small theatre in the center of El Segundo's charming business district. (I know, with the buildup I've given the town, that's hard to believe, but it is a charming village.) One enters a small lobby with a pressed tin ceiling and then passes through velvet drapes to a small auditorium illuminated with crystal chandeliers. In the front of the auditorium--in the stage area--are the exposed workings of a Mighty Wurlitzer organ. The organ's console sits front and center.
Events at the Old Town Music Hall come in two parts. Part one consists of a brief concert on the Mighty Wurlitzer, with music connected to the feature film in one way or another, followed by a community sing-along (accompanied by the Mighty Wurlitzer.) After the sing-along, a smallish screen drops from the ceiling and a two-reel comedy (usually Laurel and Hardy or Little Rascals or some other film of that ilk) is run. Following the comedy is an intermission, and then part two of the experience, the screening of the feature film.
The film repertoire at the Old Town Music Hall is an eclectic mix of old and classic (sometimes not one and the same) pictures, some of them silent and accompanied by, yes, you guessed it, the Mighty Wurlitzer.
Yesterday's feature film was Night and Day. With De-Lovely being released soon, I thought I would catch up with this film--"Based on the career of Cole Porter," according to the opening titles--which I had never seen before.
I know I am not the first to say this, but a more ludicrous biopic I have never seen before. To say that the facts were handled with a considerable degree of elasticity understates matters considerably.
My favorite risible moment in the film: Mr. Porter, as a soldier in the army during WW I, in some muddy camp somewhere, hearing the music being pounded out by the natives (the scene must take place in the jungles of France), being inspired to write "Begin the Beguine," the title of which he had already written across the top of the paper on which he had just begun to mark the musical notes.
Mr. Cary Grant makes for a rather long in the tooth Yalie, and poor Miss Alexis Smith doesn't even get a chance to belt out one of Mr. Porter's fine ditties. Mr. Monty Wooley (As himself? Or not? One can't tell, which is indicative of what kind of picture this is) is given far too much screen time.
Still, the film is a hoot to watch (fictional though it may be), filled as it is with Mr. Porter's music and a string of fun cameo appearances by folks like Miss Eve Arden and Miss Mary Martin.
