While most people around much of the world and in the United States, except for Arizona and Hawaii, got an extra hour of sleep last night, I was up at 5 a.m. Or was it 4?
Scooter, my 16-year-old dachshund (wiener dog to most) had to, uh, dash for the backdoor to do some serious business in the backyard.
Scootie, lovable, funny and loyal, knew exactly what time it was, and it had nothing to do with a clock.
But what about us humans?
What a busy, crazy-good week at Camp Movie Memories last week.
Tuesday: "A Salute to the Great War Movies" at The Preston of the Park Cities.
Thursday: "'Casablanca' -- Hollywood's Classic Happy Accident" at the Southwest Women's Club meeting in Duncanville with Suellen offering a great assist (resulting in a 5-star review on Thumbtack.com).
Friday: "Hollywood's Hot Movie Scandals" before a large, enthusiastic crowd at the Canyon Creek North Garden Club in Plano.
My heartfelt thanks go out to legendary San Antonio-based radio personality and good friend Sonny Melendrez, the nicest guy I know and one of the finest keynote speakers in the U.S., for having me on his radio show Sunday morning.
I had the honor of serving as sidekick and movie guy on Sonny's top-rated San Antonio radio show a few years back. Now Sonny is back on the air with the all new "Sonny Melendrez Show" Sundays at 11 a.m. on San Antonio's 930 AM The Answer. You can listen live by going to the station's website.
Sonny and I had a great time on his new show Sunday morning. It was like old times, but fresh and new.
What, you missed it? What if I said you didn't, not really?
Sonny, always on the cutting edge of radio and technology, archives his weekly shows as podcasts. If you're in the mood to have some fun and find out how yours truly slowly morphed from a shy guy afraid to even raise his hand in class in high school to a nationally known film critic, public speaker and comedian, click on this link to hear the podcast.
With apologies to the Beatles:
It was 50 years ago today
Professor Mercer taught the band to play-by-play
Two days have passed, and I still can't get over the fact that legendary sportscaster Bill Mercer sent an invite to join him for lunch to me and about 20 others from his 35-plus-year University of North Texas (UNT) broadcasting and sportscasting teaching span.
Mercer is famous in the sports world for wrapping his feet with plastic wrap in an attempt to stay warm enough to call the famous “Ice Bowl” NFL championship game between the Dallas Cowboys and Green Bay Packers in 1967, not to mention the Cowboys first two Super Bowl appearances. He was in the booth when the Texas Rangers set up shop in Arlington and those slightly long of tooth will recall Mercer at the mic when "Studio Wrestling," taken seriously by many back in the 1960s or so, was taped before a small audience in the KRLD-TV (now KDFW) studios.
His credits are too numerous to mention. Suffice it to say that the Texas Pro Baseball Hall of Fame, Texas Radio Hall of Fame and Dallas Press Club “Living Legend of North Texas Journalism” member who shared the broadcast booth with Don Drysdale when the Texas Rangers first hit the field was/is larger than life.
I have very little interest in scampering out and back on every branch of the family tree to discover if I might be a direct descendant of royalty, a great writer from centuries past or, gasp!, rodents (the name Ratliff, you see). I'm much more interested in getting to the root of my love and appreciation for movies.
It's deep-seated, but where did it come from?
I only have to look back one generation to find out all I need to know. My mom and dad both loved movies. I can remember my dad telling the story (over and over, actually) about falling asleep in the Hico (Texas) Theater and waking up in the dark to two startling discoveries: The movie had ended some time ago and everyone was long gone and that he was locked in.
Continue reading "Cinematic genealogy: Popcorn in the family tree" »
See, this is what happens when you trust Bonnie and Clyde to hand out the Best Picture award at the Academy Awards.
The only thing I can think of that would have been more bizarre would be if Warren Beatty, looking totally confused and lost (for good reason, it turns out) had said, "We're Bonnie and Clyde. We rob ballots!"
In case you missed it, the 89th Academy Awards telecast was putt-putting along fairly smoothly Sunday night until, of all things, the all-important finale.
“A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.”
– Oscar Wilde
I had a wild dream last night; one of those where you wake up fretting and sweating a little and the tangled covers serve as evidence of much tossing and turning.
The late iconic film critic Roger Ebert was standing at the podium at some grand hall. Roger was introducing me as recipient of the Golden Globes Lifetime Achievement Award for my long list of film criticism awards and accomplishments.
OK, let's take a break. Rule No. 1: Please remember, this was a dream. No. 2: No giggling.
I can't help it, I still miss David Letterman.
Don't get me wrong. If the Forever King of Late-night TV, in my not-so-humble opinion, wants to keep it semi-private and spend his days growing and explaining why he's grown that weird beard, I'm happy for him.
I just still miss the late-night guy, the clean-shaven one who, first on NBC, then on CBS, was a long-distance friend and as much a part of our evening routine as brushing my teeth. Actually, full disclosure, I probably missed brushing my teeth more than we skipped "Letterman," as we called his shows.
So what does a film critic, humorist, public speaker and author who likes to kid around a bit know about presidential politics?
Not much, really, and what I do know I prefer to keep to myself. It's not that I'm that private. I'm also not the dumbest dangling chad in the pile of discarded ballots. I'm in business here and just don't choose to alienate half of my potential speaking audience by hopping up on a personal political soapbox.
So why am I even writing this?
I was honored to speak to a group in Dallas last week about movies shot in and around Dallas.
I always come away from The Movie Memories presentation "Lights, Camera, Dallas!" with the music from Bonnie and Clyde bouncing around in my head. Arthur Penn's 1967 action-crime thriller showcased Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway as the notorious outlaw duo that terrorized North Texas and surrounding states in the early 1930s.
I've always admired the work of excellent character actor and sometimes leading man John Goodman.
Although I've gone out of my way for about 35 years to never act like a movie fan boy, especially while in the presence of film stars I was interviewing, I've always felt a fondness for Goodman, and the reason goes back decades.
Think about it for a second.
Someone points a finger at you and requests/hopes/demands that you be funny right now.
Not just a little funny, but world-class funny.
Gene Wilder, who we lost in the past few days, and Peter Boyle, gone 10 years in December, were two of the funniest humans of their generation. If you think that's easy, try it.
I make no apologies for star-spangled banter when it comes to Independence Day.
So, proudly fly the U.S. flag, thump an ice-cold watermelon, crank some homemade ice cream and get the family together, it's the Fourth of July weekend, time to celebrate this great country of ours.
Continue reading "Flags of our great grandfathers and grandmothers" »
You would agree, I suppose, that when alternate universes collide, it should be duly noted.
The incident I'm entering into the public record occurred May 20, 2016 from about 9:30 p.m. to 10:15 p.m. Central Daylight Time.
Rejoice, Pee-wee Herman fans, the effervescent adult pixie in a gray suit and red bow tie is back and Austin's South-by-Southwest joyous collision of film, music, tech and congealed frenzied humanity better known as SXSW has him.
SXSW kicks off today (March 11) and runs through March 20. Paul Reubens, aka Pee-wee, debuts Pee-wee's Big Holiday, his big-screen comeback as his signature giggly character on March 17.
Attention all website owners and bloggers: When your spouse tells you it's way past time to change the post on your website, it's way past time to change the post on your website.
Suellen is right, but I do have an excuse. Does that help? OK, didn't think so.
The fact is that LarryRatliff.com, home of everything Movie Memories, is undergoing a major overhaul, and we've been planning and building something we think is eye-popping special.
It's a little premature to give too much away, so let's just say that very soon you will be looking at a state-of-the-art Movie Memories and Larry Ratliff website home that, hopefully, will take your breath away (But only temporarily, we hope; safety first).
But wait, there's more!
We are also excited about being very close to announcing that Larry will be digging out his old TV makeup kit for a new movie critic position on a nationally syndicated television show.
As they say on TV, stay tuned.
And as they also say, we'll be right back: Bigger and better than ever.
I'm Larry Ratliff, and I approved this message (right after I wrote it).
There's really just one reason I'll bother to watch the Golden Globes Sunday night:
It's a free snack zone. That's why. Why else would humans anywhere near being in their right minds plop down in front of a TV to vegetate, wasting three or four hours of valuable time watching filthy rich celebrities pat each other and, more disgustingly, themselves on the back?
I mean, who knows how much time we have left with looming disasters like terrorism, the possible crash of the stock market and American Idol back on TV?
So, I'm doing it for the snacks. Fritos and Ranch dip to begin, perhaps a little chardonnay once the Globes begin to drag and, of course, a mini-mountain of Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla nectar of the gods as the evening wears on and on and on.
Oh, there is one more reason I'll be watching. Ricky Gervais will return as host of the Golden Globes this year (Sunday night at 7 Central on NBC) for the fourth time after a three-year hiatus. Gervais vowed never to return after hosting in 2012. In fact, the fearless comedian has been quoted comparing hosting chores of the movie and TV love-fest to a parachute jump.
"You can only really enjoy it in retrospect when you realize you didn’t die and it was quite an amazing thing to do,” he said.
Look for Gervais to have his fangs and one-liners sharpened and ready to pounce. He packs the caustic, comic kill-shot punch of Don Rickles. The witty Brit, who co-created the mockumentary TV series The Office across the Atlantic pond, then stares down the audience with the impeccable silence that Jack Benny mastered a generation (or two? I lose count) before him, almost daring audience members not to laugh at him, which in reality, means laughing at themselves.
So that's what I'll be doing Sunday night. Please don't call between the hours of 5 p.m. and midnight (allowing for the pre-Gervais monologue tailgate party and headache and unsettled stomach of the odd combination of snacks and the aftermath of the drudgery sure to follow).
There is one exception. Go ahead and ring us up if you're a Powerball official saying there was a mistake in Saturday's announced winning numbers and you have $700 million and change waiting for us.
If that's the case, we'll host the Golden Globes next year at our house, which will be known by then as the former Beverly Hilton Hotel in Los Angeles.
Don't get me wrong. I love Amy Poehler. Ditto for Tina Fey.
And when they're together, as they are in the new movie comedy "Sisters" and for the past few years cutting up as co-hosts of the Golden Globes telecasts, well, it's special.
For my money, though, the perfect Golden Globes host is acerbic playful rascal Ricky Gervais. As the promo photo boasts, "Hold on to your globes," Ricky's back as host of the 2016 Golden Globes, which will air on NBC Jan. 10.
According to a post on the people.com website, Mr. Gervais is not about to tap the brakes on his brilliant (There, I said it) brand of caustic comedy.
"'I think if you make it fun for yourself, I think that filters through without being ridiculously self-indulgent,' says Gervais, who previously hosted the film and television awards show from 2010 through 2012. 'I think if you do things that excite you – that you think is original ... Sometimes when I write a joke I get an adrenaline rush. I'm excited about how good I think it is. But it's that unknown. It could go the wrong way,'" Gervais told People.
By the way, the Golden Globes were announced in Hollywood this morning before the sun came up. Click here for a complete list of nominees.
Congrats to all the nominees. I'll be tuning in mostly to see Gervais wield his hilarious verbal scalpel.
From the Hey, We Haven't Brought This One Back And Called It Good Looking Yet Department:
It looks like your favorite video streaming service, Netflix, is about to roll the dice on a Lost In Space reboot.
According to stories posted on the Entertainment Weekly website (and other sources), Netflix is remaking the cult 1960s series that was set in "futuristic" 1997.
Call it Back to the Past Future or Wow, How High Can Gasoline Prices Go?
"Executive producer Kevin Burns confirmed to EW. (The) legendary TV’s remake, which has yet to garner a straight-to-series order, is being written by Matt Sazama and Burk Sharpless (Dracula Untold) and produced by Game of Thrones vet Neil Marshall, who’s in line to direct," the EW article states.
Burns, who has another project to dive into, is thrilled, of course.
“'We’ve obviously been developing Lost in Space for a long time, and we’ve had a couple of false starts. Just speaking for myself, we really felt that we had learned a lot from not only what we did, but what other people did and did wrong.
"'The original series, which lasted three seasons and 83 episodes, is set in a futuristic 1997 and follows the Robinson family’s space exploration. After the villainous Dr. Smith (Jonathan Harris) sabotages the navigation system, they become helpless and, yes, lost,'" Burns told Entertainment Weekly.
Danger, Will Robinson. I don't see a Star Wars like frenzy building for this Lost cause, which got a ho-hum big-screen do-over in 1998.
Is there a movement afoot to, ahem, keep Jane Austen weird?
There must be because come February, the undead will meet the coyishly cool in late 18th century England in what promises to be a grisly little action-horror-romance ditty titled Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.
I suppose it was bound to come (way, way) down to this in a time and marketplace where no entertainment icon, cinematic or literary, is sacred anymore.
I mean, come on. We've already witnessed the out-of-sync wackiness of Harrison Ford and Daniel "Beg-Me-To-Stay-On-As-James Bond" Craig lassoing space aliens in Cowboys & Aliens in 2011, Sherlock Holmes sniffing out leads in modern-day New York City on TV in Elementary and the Republican debates.
So maybe we shouldn't be surprised when Jane Austen-ish ladies go for the jugular with bared fangs and not just verbal jabs.
I suppose if they still sip their afternoon tea with pinkies properly extended, we shouldn't raise too much of a fuss when they go all zombie and start ripping each other to shreds.
Although I guess we won't hear much dialogue about saving face.
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies is scheduled to open (or slither out from under the door) Feb. 5 at one of the fine cinematic emporiums near you.
Consider this a jot-it-down-moment or a warning, depending on where you stand on the issue of co-mingling the prim and proper work of one of the most esteemed authors of the late 18th and early 19th century with bloodthirsty zombies with what I'm guessing will be deplorable table manners.
"Mary, mind your manners! I told you to keep your elbows off the dining table. And that goes for the elbows on those arms you're gnawing on as well. And must you moan so?"
