"the-big-sleep"

Film scholars may differ on the top Bogart-Bacall outing, but for me it’s their second film, “The Big Sleep” (1946), directed by the inimitable Howard Hawks. It is, first and foremost, the quintessential private eye picture, along with the earlier Bogart classic, “The Maltese Falcon” (1941). The film succeeds in spite of the fact that its dense, twisty plot leaves most viewers slightly bewildered at the closing credits.

I am a professional plot hole detective. It can be a tedious job, but I guess I was born for it. Movies, after all, are all about suspension of disbelief. The stories they tell in sight, sound, and motion are like delicate threads that can be cut anytime something happens that’s not credible or even explainable. Then the spell is broken, and you’re no longer transported by the narrative. Instead, you’re looking at a movie with a stupid plot and wondering what the offending studio was thinking when they released it.    Sometimes, plot holes even happen in top-notch movies, but they are usually minor and easily overlooked or forgiven. They never break the spell, and most can be explained with a close re-watching of the film. So don’t let a supposed gap in logic taint your enjoyment of an otherwise classic movie. Below, I take some of the most well-known plot holes and lovingly fill them in for you.

Part of the thrill of film is the costumes that dress up the screen. But there's a clear distinction between standard costume pictures where clothes simply help evoke a period, and those indelible outings in which great clothes not only draw our eye to their design, but also inform character.  It is, in fact, more accurate to say “wardrobe” than costumes, and, as with our own wardrobes, there are standouts that we return to again and again. These are pieces that are stars in their own right: Edith Head’s dresses for Grace Kelly in “Rear Window”; Cecil Beaton’s black and white dress for Audrey Hepburn, worn to Ascot in “My Fair Lady”; Lauren Bacall’s check suit in “The Big Sleep”; and countless bias-cut crepe gowns, Technicolor satins, wide hats, snug corsets, and acres of rhinestones, beads, and feathers. When paired with crackling dialogue, powerful stories, and flattering cinematography, these signature looks create the models for our own evolution in style.  Why not slip into our own look at some of the movies’ most memorable fashion moments...

Dick Powell: always underrated, and today, perhaps even unknown. While any movie buff worth their salt will certainly remember him, for most anyone else not holding an AARP card, the mention of his name will likely elicit a questioning look.

One of the more fascinating aspects of cinema history lies in identifying those films (and filmmakers) whose true quality and contribution only get recognized well after the fact.

From the outset, Bogie seemed an unlikely candidate for success. He was thrown out of most schools he attended for bad grades, bad behavior, or both. He fell into acting, a disreputable profession for the upper classes in those days, because he had few other options.

The 1930’s saw the full flowering of hard-boiled detective fiction, with three authors heading the list: Dashiell Hammett, Raymond Chandler, and James M. Cain. It’s worth noting that two of these three men would be instrumental in bringing “Double Indemnity,” one of our first and greatest noirs, to the screen.

Keep all those “Zoolander” jokes to yourself, because being a model in a movie doesn’t necessarily mean a pretty face (or body) catwalking across the screen for mere amusement or titillation, or because the director needed a hot date for the Screen Actors Guild awards. Underneath the high cheekbones and sculpted abs often lie the makings of a great actor. Here are some of the folks who made astonishingly smooth moves from still photography to motion pictures.

Lauren Bacall will be remembered as a larger than life Hollywood figure, but film lovers might be surprised to learn that she appeared in less than 50 features. In a business where one dreads being forgotten, Bacall took her time when it came to taking roles, confident that the public would still be there when she returned. During her heyday, Bacall rarely worked more than once a year. Later, she was known to take long breaks in between projects, something few actresses did in those days. The result is a filmography that is more tastefully cultivated than most, with very few bombs or stinkers. Even a movie like “The Fan” (1981), a gaudy thriller which some felt was beneath her, has endured as a kind of cult object. When that one wrapped, Bacall did another of her disappearing acts, this time for seven years. Of course, the dismantling of the old studio system may have had something to do with her dwindling appearances; she always preferred that more orderly way of making pictures.