in which I am cynical about the possibility of love in a cold cold world

Back to the NWFF to see Busby Berkeley's The Gang's All Here. The opening shot was lifted for Zardoz, surely the only dystopian sci-fi to borrow its opening from Busby Berkeley and its closing from Buster Keaton. This was the third time I've seen Gang, first as a midnighter at the Broadway Market Cinemas, and second at the late lamented Pike Street Cinema's Berkeley series. No particular memory of either screening--the shock of that opening floating head and the even greater shock of the ending still get me as strongly as at the first viewing. One moment I really love is the crossfade between the fallen curtain at the end of "The Lady with the Tutti-Frutti Hat" and the scrim beneath the stairway leading from the stage. Love the way Little Miss Alice Faye raises one eyebrow at the callow lead--but about the lead: something about his mouth reminds me of Kubrick's favorite actor Joe Turkel. So he may not be quite so innocent. Love Charlotte Greenwood (oh, those long limbs!) and especially when she hears the phone ring and answers the cat. Laff? I thought I'd die! And of course Carmen Miranda: I'm nuts for those goofy dames.
Final shot: um, sort of a curtain call? It echoes the opening shot, so I guess I could put it in the repetition category.
Then stayed to see Russian Dolls. It's a sequel to a movie I haven't seen--attractive young people and their love problems, not my genre of choice. However, the first film that I saw from this director, When the Cat's Away, made a very favorable impression--it has the best vacation sequence I've ever seen. Russian Dolls is very charming, and the performers are appealing. The director indulges himself in too many Amélie-style fantasy sequences, which rarely work (I'm slightly partial to the Fellini shot of the hero dancing to the movement of his perfect model girlfriend walking sexily down a perfect street), but the majority of the story works well. And it has one of the best compositions I've seen in a while: backwards tracking shot of the red-haired girlfriend walking down the center of a St. Petersburg train platform, her jacket open to show her seafoam green shirt, but everything else around her shades of rust--devastating. I hadn't been sure what was on the character's mind during her speech right before this shot, but her expression and movement solidify everything. And I loved the protagonist's memory of the first time he held one ex's hand--a breathtaking shot of the backs of two hands brushing each other. The movie is convincing enough about the possibility of love that I found myself believing it for a second there. This is why movies are dangerous. Granted, I feel romantic longings after something as silly as The Gang's All Here, too, but the fact that people wouldn't appreciate it if I were to break into song on the street tempers the feeling somewhat...Another thing: The Paris sequences of The Devil Wears Prada begin, as do most Paris sequences in US movies, with a shot of the Eiffel Tower. I realize that I can't remember the last time I saw the Eiffel Tower in a French movie. Or even the Arc de Triomphe (shot #2 or #3 in Devil). Is this a French thing? Because the Americans will still stick the Empire State Building into every New York-shot film, even Spike Lee or Scorsese.
Final shot: protagonists walk off screen. It is also followed midway through the credits by another final shot, an altogether less satisfactory ending, as it tries for a fairy-tale promise that I don't think either of the two characters would agree with. That final shot is, I guess, a still life.