Bombs, bawdy bimbos and Bob
It has been almost five years since I left Hollister and wrote
my last entertainment column for The Pinnacle. Our move to
Hollywood has been to a movie lover what John Kerry means to the
Republican Party.
Bombs, bawdy bimbos and Bob
It has been almost five years since I left Hollister and wrote my last entertainment column for The Pinnacle. Our move to Hollywood has been to a movie lover what John Kerry means to the Republican Party.
For those of you new to the area and planning to visit Hollywood you can spot me at Clint Eastwood’s table at Shelly’s on Hollywood Boulevard. I’m the one who resembles a mature George Clooney. For those of you who know me, I still look like a bald Queen Elizabeth with a beard and body like Nacho Libre, except that I didn’t “libre” too many nachos. Aye chee waa waa.
The movies so far this year have been mostly remakes of bad television shows or in the case of the highly anticipated “All the King’s Men,” flopping further than a braless Dick Cheney. Studio heads cannot figure out why. It had Academy Award winner Sean Penn heading a great cast with a budget even the Hollister City Council couldn’t fritter away. And while they scratched their collective Oscars I had the answer even though I can’t remember why my Oscar needs scratching.
The director changed the Depression Era setting to the 1950s. Any three-bit politician during a Depression could easily rally the poor and hungry against their government whose only promise is a chicken in every pot. Maybe they should have promised some pot in every chicken. But in the “I like Ike” post-war years with a booming economy and promises of two cars in every garage you couldn’t pry the populace from their front rooms as they watched Milton Berle in drag on their new giant 12-inch black-and-white DuMont or telly from Madman Muntz. Muntz even gave away free turkeys with every television to go along with the turkeys on the radio with pictures. Even Bob Barker thought the price was right.
Best you rent the original 1949 version with Broderick Crawford in his Oscar-winning role with Mercedes McCambridge also winning an Oscar for her first movie role. Robert Penn Warren’s Pulitzer Prize-winning novel also won Best Picture and is one of my top 1 all-time favorite films. Can you name the only other Pulitzer Prize-winning novel to go on to win a Best Picture Oscar?
By the way, another actress with a Hollister connection won an Oscar nomination for her first film.
When I was a teenager Teresa Wright was living in Hollister with her Academy Award-nominated writer husband, Niven Busch, who also happened to write one of my favorite Western films, “Duel in the Sun.” Teresa went to Hollywood and wrote back that she won an Oscar nomination for her first film. Next year she wrote home to let them know she made another film and received an Oscar nomination. Ho hum. And yes, she won an Oscar for “Mrs. Miniver.”
While Sean Penn will not have to worry about taking his tux to the cleaners after he took his studio to the cleaners, Clint Eastwood should never take his off.
The only problem with Eastwood’s “Flags of Our Fathers” is that one might think that the flag raisings on Iwo Jima ended World War II. I remember two atomic bombs playing a role.
The real gift from Eastwood’s “Flags of Our Fathers” will be the release next year of his companion piece to “Flags” already in the can, which shows the battle for Iwo Jima from the Japanese perspective. It will be in Japanese with English sub-titles. Hopefully, like “Tora Tora Tora,” which also featured both sides of a battle, this will get Eastwood another Oscar.
Speaking of roles and bombs, did anyone see Robin Williams in “RV”? Road trip pictures with the family in tow have been a Hollywood staple since Chevy Chase first took his family to Wally World and none better. None, that is, until this year’s best picture so far. “Little Miss Sunshine” is everything most road trip movies retread but not a flat in any line of dialogue. Alas, comedies seldom win despite the fact that every actor agrees it is harder to do comedy than drama. Year after year the Oscar goes to an actor portraying a drunk, druggie, sexual pervert … and some not even about the Congress or Paris Hilton.
Speaking of Paris, I saw her up close on Hollywood Boulevard two weeks ago and she is about as sexy and healthy looking as the Olsen twins. Combined! I happen to live in the Paris Hilton Triangle. Not as sensual as it sounds. Our apartment is in the exact center of the blocks where she was arrested for drunken driving, the Hollywood police station and In ‘n’ Out Burger where she was headed. After seeing her infamous home video, I can see why she prefers In ‘n’ Out.
While Paris never gave me a second glance I did have a famous actress tell me I was beautiful while she stroked me. Of course, she is in her 80s now, but hey, I’ll take a compliment from Esther Williams any day, including Passover. Who is Esther Williams? Ask your parents. Okay, ask your grandparents. Esther Williams is old Hollywood in more ways than one. While a crowd was hoping to get autographs from some flavor of the week younger stars only to be snubbed, someone recognized a real star – Esther Williams. They called to her and she came over to greet us. That’s when she stroked me and told me I was beautiful. After she stroked my beard and told me I was beautiful her seeing-eye dog nudged her on her way.
Prediction: Dan Craig will make you forget there were ever any other actors playing James Bond.
Despite a little name dropping, you will all be happy to know that I have not gone Hollywood. Unlike Madonna I have not adopted a Third World baby. But like Madonna I still do on Hollywood Boulevard every Friday night what I used to do on Fourth and San Benito Streets in Hollister.
I put on my cone-shaped bra over my outer tank top, slip on my orthopedic stiletto heels and squeeze into my to-kill-for miniskirt with just enough material to cover my Depends, and not my dependable.
Bob Valenzuela owned and operated a video store in Hollister for many years. He now lives in Hollywood, and the rest is history.
