The "Zou Bisou Bisou" Tangent

I'm surprised that Lionsgate or AMC, in a fit of copyrighteousness, hasn't quashed this high-quality clip of Megan Draper (Jessica Paré) dancing to "Zou Bisou Bisou," which was a high point of Mad Men's season premiere in late March. Who knows, maybe they've figured out that clips like this will inspire people to seek out the entire episode. You know, as a kind of marketing.

Like most of the audience, I'd never heard of "Zou Bisou Bisou" before seeing the episode, not being as interested in mid-century French pop culture as Matthew Weiner seems to be. But it's a charming song, light and sweet as meringue. Also, it took me on a tangent. I'm often willing to be taken on tangents, which can be little trips from the routine of settled life. First, I went to the Gillian Hills version of the song, the video of which must have been made for the French Scopitones.

Proceeding from that, I learned that nearly 10 years later Gillian Hills was one of the girls with the ice lollies in A Clockwork Orange, and that her father was Denis Hills. They don't make 'em like him any more. Once I started reading about the elder Hills, I remembered where I'd heard of him before.

In 1975, he ran afoul of Idi Amin, who threatened to execute Hills for writing disparaging things about the Conqueror of the British Empire -- foolishly writing them, as Hills was still in Uganda at the time. A wrangle between the UK and Uganda followed, and eventually a message from Queen Elizabeth herself, which presumably stoked the dictator's vanity, persuaded Amin to spring Hills. All of this played out in news reports that year, which I remember hearing (that was also the year Franco died so slowly).

Item From the Past: The Bayeux Tapestry

Google News ran this tag line for an ABC News story this morning: "Shortly after making his first ever spacewalk, Bresnik, 42, experienced another first: His wife gave birth to a baby girl back in Texas while he orbited 200 feet above the earth."

I clicked through to the story itself, and of course the text read the correct "200 miles." But I had to laugh at the thought of the new dad astronaut floating by office buildings and over treetops. You'd think he could have come to Earth from only 200 feet to be with his wife at a time like this.

That's another thing. Regarding the capitalization of Earth, as in the planet Earth, the AP Style Guide says, "Capitalize earth only when using it in association with the names of other astronomical bodies that are capitalized," which seems to imply that if referring to the planet to by itself -- say, "Major Tom never came back to earth" -- lower case it. That's never made any sense to me. When talking about dirt, lower case. When talking about the orb on which we live, upper case, same as the continents, countries, states, cities, towns and streets on which we live. What do the other planets have to do with it?

Fifteen years ago we visited Bayeux, France, which I remember being a delightful little town. We went for three reasons: ultimately to catch a ferry across the Channel from Cherbourg, but before that to see D-Day beaches and other related sites, and to take a good look at the Bayeux Tapestry. I can't remember when I first heard of it. Maybe it was from Paul Freedman, formerly a professor at Vanderbilt, now one at
Yale, from whom I learned a great many things about medieval Europe, some of which I remember even now.

The Bayeux Tapestry is exhibited in a revamped 17th-century seminary, now a museum entirely devoted to it. Note the ticket refers to Queen Matilda's tapestry; Matilda, William the Conqueror's wife, is sometimes associated with its creation. No doubt school groups and the like show up from time to time to see the tapestry, along with some tourists in the summer, but on a weekday in November, I was the only one there besides a guard (Yuriko wanted to rest, and hadn't come). It's behind glass, or probably sturdy clear plastic, illuminated in a way that doesn't harm the fabric, I suppose, but which still makes it vividly easy to see. Bishop Odo himself probably didn't have such good lighting.

It's an astonishing, intricate piece of work -- actually an embroidery, despite the name -- made even more so for being a 900-year-old graphic novel. One that continues to inspire:

The link to the animated Bayeux Tapestry, for Facebook readers.

Do the Madison, Monsieur

Had an interesting interview with an enthusiastic Frenchman this morning -- enthusiastic about his retail business, which is expanding into the United States, recession or not, and about the United States itself. Anti-American sentiment gets more play, but clearly a vein of more favorable feelings also exists in France. Which would also be the case here in the United States regarding France. Not that French anti-Americanism bothers me much, anyway. You're not going to be much of a great nation if you don't piss off a fair number of people.

While I'm on a Franco-American theme, here's a fine cultural blend: a clip from Jean-Luc Goddard's Band à part (1964). Definitely French. You could hardly get more French than Goddard and the French New Wave. And yet the characters are doing the Madison. If French postings on You Tube mean anything, the French are still fond of the Madison. Stay to the end of the clip, and watch for the silly walks as well:

Just as entertaining, and also a cultural mash, is the Leningrad Cowboys (Finns) and the Red Army Choir (Russians) singing "Sweet Home Alabama."

Play It Again (on DVD)

It isn't enough just to watch a movie. Not for me, anyway. I have to read about it afterwards, which is no hard task.

In my readings, I learned that Madeleine LeBeau is the last surviving credited cast member of Casablanca. In her 80s now, she was in her early 20s when she played Yvonne, whose small part revealed a cavalier streak in Bogart's Rick Blaine early in the movie.

Yvonne: Where were you last night?

Rick: That's so long ago, I don't remember.

Yvonne: Will I see you tonight?

Rick: I never make plans that far ahead.

Discarded by Rick, she takes up with -- or is on the verge of taking up with -- a German officer, but in the famed scene in which "La Marseillaise" drowns out "Die Wacht am Rhein," she's conspicuous in her tearful embrace of the song: her heart belongs to France. As well it should, since LeBeau was a real refugee from the Nazis, like many of the cast.

Yvonne or no Yvonne, it's an astonishingly effective scene, even for someone never directly affected by the Nazi terror, nor particularly enamored with French national aspirations. It makes you (me) want to join in and cheer for France anyway.

My viewing of Casablanca last weekend was the fourth or fifth time for me, on a fine crisp DVD print with Japanese subtitles. Like most people my age, I'd probably seen pieces of it on TV over the years as a child, but it isn't for children. Lilly and Ann had the same experience during this viewing, watching bits of it, but mostly not.

It wasn't until film class, when I was 21, that I saw it all the way through. I liked it then, but even more now; it improves with my age. I vividly remember the class applauding and cheering at the line "Round up the usual suspects." That remains my own favorite line in a movie packed with so many good ones.

Le Chewing-Gum

A bag of various Wrigley products has been in the trunk of my car for a couple of months now, ever since I took a press tour of the new Wrigley R&D facility on Goose Island in Chicago in September, which I wrote about professionally, but not here. As a parting gift, the Wm. Wrigley Jr. Co. gave all us press mice a bag full of its products.

We examined the contents of the bag today, since I told Lilly I would give it to her for her birthday. What a variety it is. I had no idea. My idea of Wrigley gum is the standard three: yellow, white and green packs, the variety that my grandma always had around. But this is the 21st century. Wrigley’s locked toe-to-toe against Cadbury, and each is busy coming up with new products (hence the new R&D facility). In the bag I received, I found:

Juicy Fruit sours (New!), Juicy Fruit grapermelon (sic) (Longer Lasting!), Juicy Fruit strappleberry (sic, I’m beginning to see a pattern here).

Hubba Bubba Triple Treat, 6 feet of bubble gum, artificially flavored strawberry, watermelon and blueberry; Hubba Bubba sour double berry; and Hubba Bubba Max cherry-lemon.

Three kinds of Eclipse gum (powerfully crisp, surprisingly fresh, and uniquely soothing, respectively) and three kinds of Eclipse mints, which don’t have the adverb+adjective combos on the packs.

Eight kinds of Orbit gum, and four species of Extra gum, plus one companion mint variety for each of those two brands.

Big League Chew, “the ballplayers’ bubble gum.” New! Sour Cherry, and Swingin’ Sour Apple (I guess ballplayers like it sour out there on the field).

Big Red, artificially flavored cinnamon that you know is hot, because the package is red and has a little flame head as a mascot.

Winterfresh, “Icy cool breath that lasts,” with snow-covered mountain peaks to prove it.

Some of the gum varieties, made for export, have Chinese characters on them. But my favorite is a gum made in France, Wrigley’s sans sucre Freedent Professional. Avec Microgranules! On the back it says, copied here without proper diacriticals because I’m too lazy to add them, “Le chewing-gum developpe avec des experts en recherché dentaire qui vous procure le plaisir du gout et la sensation dents propres!”

Le Chewing-Gum? Quick, somebody call the Ministry of Culture or the L'Académie française or whoever’s in charge of stamping out anglicisms. We’ve got a violation here.