Old Dude, Old Movies - "Middle of the Night"

This 1959 release is a good movie, but it hits me a bit too close to home. I've watched it a couple of times, and enjoyed it. But, it's not a feel-good movie. And, it's very much an artifact of its age.

The acclaimed actor Fredric March is "Jerry", a man in his mid-50s in a story set in the mid-50s. The son of immigrants, he clawed his way to the top of the garment industry in New York City. He owns his own clothing business, and business has been good for awhile. On the outside, he has the polish and bonhomie of a natural salesman.  At his core, he's a roughneck hiding in a well-tailored suit. He's also lonely - his wife died recently, and he tries to fill the void in his life with even more work.

Kim Novak is "Betty", a receptionist at Jerry's company. Betty's recently divorced from an itinerant musician, and she's trying to rebuild her life. She's moved back home to live with her mother (played by Glenda Farrell) and sister "Alice" (played by Jan Morris). Her mom's frustrated and coarse, ever since Betty's dad abandoned the family when the girls were small.

Jerry is more than twice Betty's age. Most of his friends have either already retired, moved to Florida or died off. His only lasting friend "Walter" (Albert Dekker) is cynical and a bit forlorn. He's unhappily married, and he worries about how his grown kids see their father. He should. Walter recklessly indulges in tawdry affairs with cheap women, trying in vain to convince himself that he's still vibrant and desirable. With a friend like this, it's no wonder Jerry is starting to wonder about his own future. Is Jerry destined to seek the same artificial solace in a series of empty liaisons? Jerry wants something deeper.

After a couple of post-work encounters, Jerry decides Betty is the woman he loves. He goes after Betty like he went after his career. At once, he's full of bluster and promises, while barely containing his insecurity at his increasing age and his decreasing vibrancy. He knows she's attractive enough and young enough to be a better fit to someone closer to her own age. He also feels that her presence makes him feel young again, even if it's for a moment. He'd do anything to keep that feeling in his life as the years wind down.

Betty doesn't feel the same way. She's flattered by the attention, since Jerry is everything Betty's husband never was: rich, attentive, determined, well-respected in the city. Jerry's lifestyle would be a quantum leap over the struggle Betty faces day after day. What cost is Betty willing to pay? Can she turn off her true feelings for the sake of material comfort?

After some time dealing with Jerry's relentless pursuit, Betty begrudgingly accepts Jerry's ardor. She tries to reciprocate, but it's difficult. Those in orbit around the couple loudly and frequently express their disapproval. Her mom and sister think Jerry is a disgusting cradle-robber. His daughter "Lillian" (Joan Copeland) thinks Betty's infantile and will soon dump Jerry for a younger lover. Only Lillian's husband "Jack" (Martin Balsam) thinks that Jerry should not be afraid to seek happiness or love.

When Jerry and Betty are together, they do a great job of showing the raw emotions they're trying to manage. This is not a beautiful, uplifting love story. It certainly wouldn't be considered a chick flick. Jerry is desperate to make his dream of love work, charging ahead with barely any regard to Betty's doubts. Betty sees Jerry as basically a sweet man who's a bit lost. She doesn't love him, but is trying to teach herself to do so, because she doesn't want to hurt him. She's losing a part of herself in trying to buoy this older man who's drowning in loneliness and despair.

Why it hits close to home is because I'm in a similar stage in life. In that baby boomer era, most men were taught that career success and that love for a lifetime were both worthy, achievable goals. We were taught that a truly successful man had both when he reached middle-age. We were taught those goals could be nurtured simultaneously. As the career wound down and ended, that lifetime of memories with the one you love would nourish one in the golden years.

In the present day, now many middle-aged men find themselves alone, looking back at successful careers in their respective pasts. But today, the career is going or gone, and that "forever love" is gone as well. Those men (and increasingly, women in that age group) find themselves alone, trying to find something to hold onto as sustenance as they enter the last years of their lives. Even though the movie is 50-plus years old, Jerry's dilemma resonates with so many persons today. If it applies to you, how do YOU deal with it?

The ending is typical of movies from that era, but it's not satisfying. Those who watch may suspect that all those family and friends on both sides may be right - that Jerry's insecurities and Betty's fears were stronger than any possible love they could muster for one another.

This movie was well-crafted and well-cast. The playwright Paddy Chayefsky wrote a powerful screenplay. Watching it won't have you humming love songs when it ends. But, the story will make you think. It may make you re-examine some of the choices you make in your middle-aged years. I liked it, and I wonder who else likes it.

In Dreams - I Met "Rachel", and She's Cool

Like some single folk, I have an idea in my head about the type of person I'd like to meet for romance. Not necessarily a hard-and-fast prioritized list, per se. It's more like certain qualities I'd like in a woman, qualities that catch my interest. Men and women alike have their individual ideas. They may be something like this (exaggerations for comedic effect):

For the ladies:
He's gotta look good. He's gotta have six-pack abs. He's gotta be confident. He's gotta have a respectful distance from his baby mommas. He's gotta be active in his kids' lives, but not slave to their every want. He's gotta have money and a nice car. He's gotta be a "gangsta with a heart of gold". He's gotta be tough enough to "knock a sucka out", but tender enough to cry in a manly way the first time he changes his baby's diaper. He's gotta be able to dance, but not dance better than the lady. He's gotta have a great sense of personal style. He's gotta be respectful of ladies, including his woman and his own momma. He's gotta be able to fix stuff, and look cool doing it.

For the guys:
She's gotta have a bangin' body (BOOM!). She's gotta have money. She's gotta like what I like.

(Yep, men and women are different. In other news, water is wet.)

So, wading through all that, I too have my ideas of the qualities I seek in a lady (hint: it's a bit more than the stereotype I listed). So, imagine my surprise when I saw those qualities in a dream.

I was at a fairly large college campus, there to buy a school t-shirt or other souvenir. Suddenly, I met her. Let's call her "Rachel" for sake of argument ("Why Rachel?" It's a pretty name.). We hit it off immediately. She was naturally funny, in an dry-humor way. She was sharp as a tack, and keenly observant of her surroundings. She was wearing navy blue slacks and a white shell top with blue trim. There were ruffles front/center of the top (which may or may not be in style today). She was maybe 5-foot-4 and athletically built, like a long-distance runner.

She worked at the college in some upper-level administrator capacity, which freed her up to get away from her desk and walk around a bit during the day. So, we found ourselves walking and talking. She was wearing work-quality pumps (maybe a two-inch heel), so she could walk for a while without hurting her feet. As we walked, we could see evidence that the semester was in full-swing. Students, faculty and visitors were everywhere. She was acquainted with most folk we encountered, and had a unique encouraging word for each of them.

As we talked, we realized we had a friend in common. This friend taught at the college, but he was also working on his doctorate at the same institution. He was taking an advanced literature class as part of his program, but not doing well. "Rachel" had an inkling he was about to fail the literature course. A large part of the failure would stem from a personality conflict - our mutual friend had a barely-controllable temper, and was maybe hours away from blowing his top on some relatively minor disagreement with his instructor.

"Rachel" had an idea to help our friend keep his cool and keep his place in the doctoral program. The idea involved us shredding a few reams of computer paper. We walked to her office, where we could get the paper in question.  Outside her office door, "Rachel" had this huge steampunk-style shredder. If Queen Victoria had a shredder back in the day, it might have looked like this, pipes and levers and gears all over. Even at rest, this beast was leaking oil, fuel and other substances. Anyway, "Rachel" fired up the machine, it belched diesel smoke, and we started shredding.

As we worked, we talked about our respective pasts. In my spirit, I could sense she was really sweet and genuine. She had a heart for people, and a real concern about the way the world was turning. She wasn't scarred by past hurts, but fired up about what her future could become. We talked about friends who had died at young ages, our respective parents, and future aspirations. It was a mellow time.

Funny thing was, as she shredded paper, she didn't get dirty at all. No bits of paper dust clung to her clothing. No shredder oil clung to her fingertips. Even when the shredder clogged from the top, and she took a knee to pull at the jam from the bottom of the shredder (which didn't make sense), she stayed clean.

Hanging out with "Rachel" was pleasant, the type of pleasant that seemed like it would never end.