TIS THE SEASON...

The Los Angeles Film Critics Association’s annual awards dinner is one of the highpoints of my year.  It’s a rare opportunity to rub shoulders with people we genuinely admire—actors, writers, directors, producers, cinematographers, composers, animators.  What’s even more

Two of America's finest actors were happy to share some time together at the L.A. Film Critics dinner: Jack Nicholson and Julianne Moore.

rewarding is realizing that we all share the same enthusiasm for movies.

As our President Jean Oppenheimer pointed out, critics and filmmakers are not adversaries, certainly not on an evening dedicated to celebrating the best achievements of the past year.

  The proof is in the pudding:  at the end of the ceremonies, no one rushed off.  In fact, Jack Nicholson, Daniel Day-Lewis, and other notably reclusive actors stayed to chat, meet people, and share the good feelings in the air. 

Awards are not merely handed out. Each one is presented by a member of LAFCA who gives a speech about the reasons for honoring each individual.  It gives real meaning to the citations, and the recipients are genuinely appreciative.

They are also happy to be surrounded by their peers.  Who wouldn’t be thrilled to meet Elmer Bernstein, who wrote such an ideal score for Far from Heaven, after fifty years of outstanding work.  Who could fail to be impressed by the beautiful and gifted Julianne Moore, who gave not one but two heart-rending performances this year, in Far from Heaven and The Hours.  In his acceptance speech, Daniel Day-Lewis acknowledged his Best Actor co-winner Jack Nicholson as someone who was surely an honorary hooligan in the Five Points gang; later, Nicholson remembered their last encounter at a new year’s celebration in Dublin. 

Anne Bancroft helped present our Career Achievement award to Arthur Penn, who directed

Two fine filmmakers and mutual admirers, a generation apart: Arthur Penn with the director and co-writer of this year's Best Picture, About Schmidt, Alexander Payne

her so memorably in The Miracle Worker, on stage and screen, as well as the Broadway production of Two for the Seesaw.  As she headed toward the podium, her husband, Mel Brooks, shouted, “Mention me!” 

Penn gave a long, thoughtful, and amusing speech about his career, and I think everyone in the room felt privileged to be in his presence.  If he had made no contribution to film aside from the ground-breaking Bonnie and Clyde it would have been enough.  When he mentioned The Missouri Breaks, he pointed happily to its costar, Jack Nicholson, seated just below the podium.  Nicholson later recalled, with a wry smile, that Marlon Brando, whom Penn called “devilish,” treated the director terribly.

In citing one of the main reasons he enjoyed the evening so much, Nicholson echoed the sentiments of many of us in attendance:  no television cameras.  TV crews are invited to shoot the first ten minutes of the ceremony, and then asked to leave.  This gives the remainder of the event an intimacy—and opportunity for candor—that otherwise wouldn’t exist.  It was the kind of evening I hate to see come to an end.
 

The next day, I attended a luncheon given by the American Film Institute to honor the winners of its second annual film and television honors.  When the AFI entered the awards derby last year with a network television special, many people questioned its rationale:  did the world really need another award show?   

This year, the AFI had a quiet lunch instead, and won points with everyone in the Hollywood community by keeping television outside the room.  Thus, the guests didn’t have to worry about their appearance, or the prying eyes of cameras as they greeted friends and colleagues and enjoyed each other’s company. 

I was asked to serve on the AFI’s movie panel this year, and I to my surprise I found it a stimulating and enjoyable experience.  The thirteen-member group included filmmakers, production executives, academics, and critics, and the day-long discussion was stimulating, to say the least.

The lunch was on another plane, because the room was filled with so many prominent and talented people.  To be able to shmooze with everyone from Martin Scorsese to Nicole Kidman to Matt Groening was delightful—and heady stuff indeed. 

Anna Lee holds court at her 90th birthday party...but not alone.

Another recent event may not have been as prominent on Hollywood’s radar screens, but it was notable just the same:  the 90^th birthday party of actress Anna Lee.  Surrounded by children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, colleagues, and friends, Anna looked regal as ever, and willingly shared the spotlight with her beloved Pekingese.

Here is the tastiest resume I've ever encountered: Anna Lee's birthday cake, decorated with her credits

Her son, Jeffrey Byron, proudly showed me the cake he had ordered for the occasion, a multi-tiered masterpiece bearing the names of his mother’s most famous films and television series, from How Green Was My Valley and The Sound of Music to General Hospital.  And we had the pleasure of meeting Anna’s daughter, actress-turned-producer Venetia Stevenson, who is now happily retired from the movie business. 

Here is a woman who was part of movie history and remains vital, and beautiful, at the outset of her tenth decade.  God bless her.

Oddly enough, that same day, a memorial was held for the late Mary Brian at her residence in Studio City, California.  Her godson Stuart Erwin, Jr. and his wife Diane carried out her last wishes, following a private burial with a celebration at her longtime home, where her life was happily recalled by friends and surrogate

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family.

My favorite story:  Mary’s dear friend, film historian Tony Slide, recounted how she expressed a desire to see Boogie Nights several years ago, because it was written and directed by Paul Thomas Anderson, who grew up right across the street and spent a fair amount of time in Mary’s house.  Tony’s protests were in vain; she wanted to see the film, so he took her to an Academy screening, where a number of old friends expressed considerable surprise at seeing her.  When the R-rated film about the pornographic film business concluded, there was a moment of silence; then Mary shook her head and said, “Paul’s father must be turning over in his grave!”  Mary Brian didn’t live in the past, but she wasn’t quite ready for Boogie Nights.

Everyone there agreed that their lives were richer for knowing this bright, charming, utterly endearing woman.