catching the repeat of Nip/Tuck with the steamy milonga scene with Joely Richardson and Bruno Campos and remembering being able to do some of those steps but not having anyone like Campos to do them with, which was sad because the tango is not just a dance, it’s a seduction, and if the chemistry’s not there you might as well be doing a square dance.
Night and Day on pay-per-view, watched with mom, who is entranced by Cole Porter’s music, while I think about kissing Cary Grant good night ’cause he was a much nicer (altho’ much more fictitious) Cole Porter than Kevin Kline was in DeLovely.
Fact and fiction aside, “Night and Day” is a movie with fantastic dance numbers interpreting Porter’s songs through modern dance, ballet, tap, Latin, and just about any other kind of dancing there is. Imagine Eve Arden with a French accent, Monty Woolley playing himself. I didn’t even recognize the very young Dorothy Malone and Jane Wyman, but I had no trouble recognizing the young Mary Martin, who played herself. No mistaking that smile, those eyes.
Whether it’s 1936 or 1946 or 2006 (well, almost), it’s all about passion, isn’t it?