I watch a lot of classic films. I also dabble in a decent amount of literature. The goal which I set in Apple Books some time ago is 10 pages a day. Not a shockingly large amount, I know, but consistently taking in a little something to think about and come back to the following day. Sometimes I go far over and read 40 pages. Other times I get five pages into a thing and fall asleep or my attention is taken elsewhere. Tangentially, I love that it counts when I’ve listened to x-amount of pages worth of an audiobook that's being read to me. I find it funny when someone mentions reading a particular book and then, always at the end of this discussion, mentions it was an audiobook. Deciding whether or not this constitutes actual reading is subjective I suppose. It's also an extremely modern, iPhone Age phenomenon. On the other hand, you didn't look at anything! Isn't looking at letters a stipulation for reading? From everything I know and all that I've forgotten from my schooling, it would seem to me that seeing letters on a page, or nowadays on a screen, is fundamental to the task. On the other-other hand, when you read to yourself you do speak to yourself (even if it's in your own mind) in the same way that the reader reading the audiobook speaks to you, right?!
As you can see I'm not going to be able to pin down an opinion on this one without careening recklessly into a 1930's/1940's slapstick comedy routine so I'll just move on...
Watching old movies and reading isn't all I do, but it’s a decent portion of my weekly consumption of art, culture, media, technology, and so on.
In that vein, I’d like to celebrate a quirky set of intersections I've recently run into on this front by looking at two rather lovely films. Each with a literary bend. Each investigates the dynamics of being a writer and ideas of authorship. The differences between how a person relates to what they create when the creation moves from out of the privacy of the shadows and becomes public. These films involve writers who for one reason or another would like to remain undiscovered as the authors of their works. Both have shrouded themselves from recognition as authors of their titles by using pseudonyms. The spark that sets each story into motion is the threat of being unmasked; push out away from the comfort of anonymity. The fear for them is that others, the people they are closest to, the people they love, and yet have been lying to, will find out the truth.
Theodora Goes Wild (1936)
In Theodora Goes Wild, Irene Dunne plays the title character, Theodora Lynn. She is secretly the author of a salacious novel written under the pen name, Caroline Adams. She must hide her identity from the residents of her small, conservative Connecticut town. Their disapproval of the material in the book is fierce. When Theodora goes to New York to visit her publisher, she meets the book's cover artist, Michael Grant, played by Melvyn Douglas, who tries to convince her to reveal herself as the real author. When Theodora falls for Michael, she soon finds that he has secrets of his own.
The film is a raucous, slap-stickesque comedy that is never dull. I say "esque," because it doesn't too far into the ridiculous. It stays grounded. It has some real heart to it. Especially in the relationship between the two leads, but also with every family member, friend, and townsperson along the way. Some of those living in this small town though cast aspersions on this mystery writer unnecessarily. Their actions cause a lot of tension and grief and in the end, they must come face to face with their own hypocritical natures.
And, the second film is---
Footsteps in the Dark (1941)
In Footsteps In The Dark, Errol Flynn plays Francis Warren, an investment adviser who moonlights secretly as the author of detective novels. He writes under the pseudonym, F.X. Pettijohn. When a client who wants to cash in a stash of jewels is murdered, Francis believes that -- with his insight into the criminal world -- he can solve the case. His first suspect, however, meets a mysterious end. As the investigation grows more complicated than Francis imagined, he is unexpectedly accused of infidelity by his wife, Rita played by Brenda Marshall, and also suspected by the police.
This film is light, but not without its serious moments. Flynn is his usual suave, debonair self, with flourishes of boyish innocence and witty charm. It’s a whodunnit where the gifted amateur who shouldn't be the one trying to figure out this case is just as confused as we are throughout most of the investigation.
For ages writers, musicians, actors and performers of all kinds have used pen names. Did you know that Michael Caine’s real name is Maurice Joseph Micklewhite Jr.?...
Okay, okay Michael Caine it is! Gosh!
Sometimes for artists, it is a decision due to “the times,” like in the case of George Eliot, author of the 19th-century novel Middlemarch, better known to her friends as Mary Ann Evans. Other times, the name just sounds cool and who says you can't, right?! Whether it be to conceal a true identity for consideration of one's own reputation as the characters in these films do, or just to spice life up a bit, the truth is we cast judgments (positive or negative; fairly or unfairly) on the thing which represents a creative works existence. The name of the entity which penned the letters. That can be a very scary thing that every creative person must wrestle with in their work. The burden of ownership. But, that's what makes putting your name on it or giving a name to it so very interesting.
I myself find it quite exciting and I like to think up names from time to time in the hopes of just such an occasion coming along.
How about you?! What would your pen name be?
All and all these two films are splendid. They feature old Hollywood stars who I completely adore. They hit on themes that I am always interested in seeing onscreen and they cover topics that enrich my life. I can't recommend these films more highly. You won't regret a second you spend enjoying them. So what are you waiting for?! Go!