It was fitting, that opening scene in The African Queen, camera tracking throug that central African rainforest, tropical birds and monkeys screeching. The sun was still pounding through the window, the heat, oven like, was making my usually comfy and restful Futon Cinema an equitorial hothouse. I live in an old house, one that I've managed to insulate and keep to a comfortable level in the downstairs area, especially in the wintertime, but upstairs, in bedrooms pressed up against the roof in a thirties style "story and half" set-up, well, let's just say that when summer comes and delivers it's high eighty and ninety degree heat I would much rather be downstairs when it comes to bed time. Thank goodness for a high quality flying couch.
No matter, Punkin and I braved the heat and grooved on an old bleeding color VHS copy of the John Huston classic. To the credit of screenwriters, the romance between Bogart and Hepburn was believable and worthy of deep sighs. I have always cherished the scene when Hepburn, obviously in the throes of early love, offers Bogart that first cup of morning tea as the newly broken in lover. It was she gave him was more than classic, it was pure professionalism, one filled with admiration and a raw sort of authenticity, one that said, "yeah, man, well done. Look at what we're pulling off here in this hell hole of jungle setting, a "real life" romance for the ages." Never mind the fact that the set was deep in an equatorial African forest, that the animals, oh so threatening, were real, that Huston and company would take off on unscheduled safaris, that Bogie had his Bacall and that their love was still and would always be wildly on fire. All those much documented things made the timeless interplay between Charlie and Rosie that much more believeable and yet forever emblazoned in our minds as one of the great cinema romances of all time.
I was turned onto this movie as a boy and now I fulfilled my duty and passed along the torch to my girl. Toy Soldier Boy sat in at first, lasted just alittle while and then decamped to his video games, pity, as he missed the meat of that timeless adventure story. Maybe later on in life he'll find the time, or the right mindset, or a budding young romantically inclinded gal to groove to it with, find that place in his heart that's a little less jaded, a little less worldly than he is now, only in the way that a 13 year old boy can be. Heck, I am certain of that, for in our heart of hearts we'll always desire to have a winsome, handsome Rosie to go along with our rough cut inner Charlie, a sweet damsel worthy of our affections, one who is willing to give us hell, dump our booze, go over the falls with us and still see the wonder and glory that lies deep down inside us, the only true treasure we have to offer in this world filled with dangerous rapids, wild animals and timeless, everchanging cinema tastes and values.
No matter, Punkin and I braved the heat and grooved on an old bleeding color VHS copy of the John Huston classic. To the credit of screenwriters, the romance between Bogart and Hepburn was believable and worthy of deep sighs. I have always cherished the scene when Hepburn, obviously in the throes of early love, offers Bogart that first cup of morning tea as the newly broken in lover. It was she gave him was more than classic, it was pure professionalism, one filled with admiration and a raw sort of authenticity, one that said, "yeah, man, well done. Look at what we're pulling off here in this hell hole of jungle setting, a "real life" romance for the ages." Never mind the fact that the set was deep in an equatorial African forest, that the animals, oh so threatening, were real, that Huston and company would take off on unscheduled safaris, that Bogie had his Bacall and that their love was still and would always be wildly on fire. All those much documented things made the timeless interplay between Charlie and Rosie that much more believeable and yet forever emblazoned in our minds as one of the great cinema romances of all time.
I was turned onto this movie as a boy and now I fulfilled my duty and passed along the torch to my girl. Toy Soldier Boy sat in at first, lasted just alittle while and then decamped to his video games, pity, as he missed the meat of that timeless adventure story. Maybe later on in life he'll find the time, or the right mindset, or a budding young romantically inclinded gal to groove to it with, find that place in his heart that's a little less jaded, a little less worldly than he is now, only in the way that a 13 year old boy can be. Heck, I am certain of that, for in our heart of hearts we'll always desire to have a winsome, handsome Rosie to go along with our rough cut inner Charlie, a sweet damsel worthy of our affections, one who is willing to give us hell, dump our booze, go over the falls with us and still see the wonder and glory that lies deep down inside us, the only true treasure we have to offer in this world filled with dangerous rapids, wild animals and timeless, everchanging cinema tastes and values.
And when he does, I hope it's in a cooler, more hospitable movie house!
Action!
Action!
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