'Stead of treated, we get tricked

[sovay]

1. And now, our special late-breaking edition of Dawn Over Marblehead brings you this important bulletin:

THAT WAS BERNADETTE PETERS IN THE MOVIE MUSICAL OF ANNIE I MEAN I KNEW ABOUT TIM CURRY AND CAROL BURNETT WHO DOESN'T AND I'VE ALWAYS BEEN WILLING TO TAKE MY MOTHER'S WORD FOR IT THAT THE BALD GUY WAS ALBERT FINNEY BUT I AM FOR SOME REASON SURPRISED BY WAIT A MINUTE ANN REINKING WAS ALSO IN THIS THING LOOK I DON'T EVEN HAVE THAT MUCH NOSTALGIA ATTACHED TO THIS MOVIE BUT WHY AM I NOT WATCHING AT LEAST THE MUSICAL NUMBERS RIGHT NOW?

(The Onion A.V. Club caused me to think about latter-day movie musicals. I find it difficult to believe Little Shop of Horrors (1986) was the last classical example of the form, but I agree that Chicago (2002) was not even slightly it.)

2. In slightly less shouty news, I am planning to spend tonight at the Anti-Morris on Vinal Avenue and then at Nosferatu (1922) at the Brattle if I can work out tickets, considering their online service seems to give my browser fits.

3. This would be the traditional mix.

Carbon Leaf, "Follow the Lady"

She assigned a witch to spell my heart and now I'm drawn to her
Siren song, draw the ships, orchestrate the eclipse of this amateur

Do Not Forsake Me Oh My Darling, "Episode 7: The Schizoid Man"

I see you at night
Swear I'm not dreaming
You're a ball of light
And I wake up screaming

The Pack a.d., "Haunt You"

I died
I'll haunt you

The Secret History, "Count Backwards (Rock 'n' Roll Never Dies)"

Bela Lugosi's dead and I don't feel so hot myself

Hans Conried, "Dressing Song (Do-Mi-Do Duds)"

So come and dress me in the blossoms of a million pink trees
Come on and dress me up in liverwurst and Camembert cheese
Come on and dress me up in pretzels—dress me up in bock beer suds

Happy Halloween.

P.S. Courtesy of selidor: this article.

Comments

[sovay]

We're safe so long as the Morris-men don't discover mime.

Here; I am afraid it comes in two parts, because it came from the internet in the long-ago days of obscure music piracy, but have Stan Roger's "The Idiot" and its Morris-baiting introduction.

"At any event, they get together at folk festivals, and they gather around in their little clot or mob, and they do their little dances. And there's nothing really alarming about this, except for the fact that every once in a while they will arm themselves with cudgels or bludgeons or some kind of blunt instrument like that, and, to the accompaniment of accordion and violin, they will rhythmically and ritually hit each other again and again and again—and this is considered to be entertainment, or some kind of British fertility ritual, or something."

"It works, too. We've played this song and impregnated whole audiences."