2005-11-30 - 10:28 a.m.
Somehow I've managed to get this far in life without ever having witnessed a Tallulah Bankhead performance. That all changed in the wee hours this morning when, struck with insomnia, I watched my latest Netflix offering, Lifeboat.
Now I understand what all the fuss is about. Obviously, "Connie Porter" is a well-written character, but TB's ferocious and tender performance is all personality-driven; you get the feeling that's Tallulah playing her own self.
And the sparks 'twixt her and heretofore unknown-to-me John Hodiak! Not to sound like my grandma here, but when it comes to movie romance, less is more, a little smolderin' is hotter than a raging fire, and they (and Alfred Hitchcock) really got that.
The greatest showbiz death ever: Bert Savoy. "Ain't Miss God cutting up something awful?"
I could listen to the new Boubacar Traoré album all the livelong day. It's a pleasing mesh of lilting guitar virtuosity and bluesiness.
If you have a reggae fan on your Xmas/Hanukah/Kwanzaa gift list, they will certainly go nuts for the Toots and the Maytals box set on Trojan. It's got 6 of their albums, each disc packaged in a miniature version of the original vinyl sleeve, like little Chu-Bops. I can't stop looking at it.
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