Glasses on, glasses off

Summer of the Monkeys is one of those youth classics that I never got around to reading, mainly because Wilson Rawls’s other classic, Where the Red Fern Grows, devastated me. It was good, don’t get me wrong, but I remember lots and lots of crying over that book at a young age. Also, both books kind of remind me of the classic book and movie Old Yeller, which I can only think about through a haze of tears. Um, spoiler alert.

Anyways…. this Class III movie is set in the late 1800s/early 1900s and about a teenage boy, Jay (Corey Sevier), trying to earn money to buy a pony. And then his world gets turned upside down by a batch of circus monkeys who escaped during a train crash. The early part of this film focuses on the boy’s home life on the farm, and about 20 minutes in, Jay makes fun of his sister reading a book: “Talk to ME about tall tales. You and your stupid books. Everything I know, I learned by goin’ out and doin’ it.”

Yeah, we’ll see about that.

Turns out, Jay doesn’t know how to connect with those circus monkeys by just “going’ out and doin’ it.” Cue grandpa’s advice to check out the town library. Bless you, Wilford Brimley, you’re the best. ♥

So almost an hour in, we take a trip along with Quaker Oats grandpa and Jay to the Ridgewell town library (see right). This scenario reminded me a bit of the library scene in The Magic of Ordinary Days. The purpose of the scene is the same, as this small-town public library serves a vital function as a source of info for both its local and rural users.

And we get a lot of nice shots of the one-room library interior, which looks quite bright and cheery and welcoming. There’s a stove in the middle, a few chairs and tables, bookshelves along the back, oil paintings, all against a backdrop of off-white and green.

We also get nice close-ups of the reel librarian (Beverly Cooper). She’s blonde (again, kind of visually similar to the reel librarian in The Magic of Ordinary Days), middle-aged, and dressed in a period costume of puffed sleeves, high collar, long skirt, and cameo brooch. Her hair is pulled back in a bun, and of course, a pair of glasses complete her reel librarian uniform. I love the details of the quill pen and the large lamp on the Circulation desk. What I don’t love so much? The QUIET sign just inside the front door (see below).

Let’s listen in as Jay walks into the library for the first time.

Jay:  Howdy, ma’am.

Librarian:  Shh.

[Everybody looks up]

Jay (in a whisper):  I’d like to see all the books you have on monkeys.

Librarian:  Could you be more specific?

Jay:  Well, I’m trying to trap a bunch of ‘em. They’re from the train wreck a few weeks back. My grandpa thought that if I read up on ‘em, it’d help me out.

Librarian (taking off her glasses): Why don’t you have a seat? I’ll bring some material over to you.

Jay:  Thanks.

It’s interesting to note the librarian’s different facial expressions, which seem to change depending on whether or not she’s wearing glasses. Maybe she feels she has more authority when wearing spectacles? That she can’t smile unless the glasses are off?

Exhibit A, glasses on (click each image to view a larger version):

Exhibit B, glasses off:

So Jay sits down at a table beside a young girl (see below) and looks more than a little bit overwhelmed and out of his comfort zone. In the next shot, the librarian brings over a large stack of books, “This should get you started.” The boy looks up with big eyes and picks one up with a bewildered expression. There’s no explanation from the librarian about what’s in the books or how to use them. Sorry to say, this is an example of what NOT to do during a reference interview.

Glasses are off. That means I get to smile.

In the next shot, after some time has passed, we see a closeup of the materials all scattered on the desk, including a book entitled Young People’s Natural History (a real book! click here to view more info through WorldCat), plus a copy of a Ridgewell Chronicle news article about the train wreck. Obviously still overwhelmed, Jay turns to the young lady at his table — because she’s more approachable? — about how to pronounce some French words in the article. After they talk some more (the young lady is extremely helpful), the library bell dings, cutting to a disgruntled look from the librarian. The glasses are back on!

After the young lady leaves, the librarian steps back into frame, taking off her glasses.

Librarian: The library is closing, young man. You can leave the books where they are. (She starts clearing up, stacking books, putting lids on ink bottles, etc.)

Jay turns back and asks:  Ma’am? That young lady who was sitting across from me? She come here much?

Librarian:  I see her from time to time.

Jay:  Thank you very much.

Librarian:  Come back again.

Jay:  I believe I will.

The scene ends with a shot of the librarian hugging some books to her chest, smiling (see above, in Exhibit B). She looks pleased, and the scene ends on a positive note. Jay uses the info to locate the monkeys and return them to the circus. Sure, the librarian’s an Information Provider, but she really wasn’t all that helpful. It was the young lady who really helped the boy out. And it’s because of her, NOT the librarian, that Jay wants to return to the library.

After he climbs back in the buggy with his grandpa, Wilford Brimley, bless him, sums it all up for us.

Grandpa:  You say it was the young lady who helped you?

Jay:  Yeah.

Grandpa:  Oh.

Oh, indeed.


Your friendly local librarian

In The Magic of Ordinary Days (2005), a Hallmark Hall of Fame TV movie set during World War II, a beautiful young woman (Keri Russell) agrees to an arranged marriage with a lonely, good-hearted farmer (Skeet Ulrich) due to an unplanned pregnancy. The farmer’s not the father — they’d never met before the wedding — but he’s determined to do the best by her. This film is based on Ann Howard Creel’s novel of the same name.

The brief library scene happens early in the film. A little over 10 minutes in, as they’re settling in and getting to know each other, Livy (Russell) mentions to Ray (Ulrich) that she doesn’t know how to cook. She’s an intellectual from the city, obviously a fish out of water in this rural setting.

Livy: It [cooking] shouldn’t be that hard. I can get a book from the library.

… [long pause] …

Livy:  Is there a library?

Ray:  Oh yeah. In La Junta.

Livy:  That’s an hour away.

So a few minutes later, we see Ray driving her over to the La Junta, the nearest town. It’s pure Americana, with red brick buildings around a small town square. (Click here to visit the Woodruff Memorial Library, the current public library in La Junta, Colorado.) But Livy isn’t the one interested in checking out the library, after all — she’s too concerned with calling back home. Ray’s the one who mentions that he’ll be in the library, checking out some cookbooks for her.

'Getting Prepared for Baby' by Dr. James Graley

The next shot (see above) cuts to a close-up on two books:  Cooking is Easy by Otto Helmig, and Getting Prepared for Baby by Dr. James Graley.

Side note:  I wasn’t able to find any corresponding titles/authors in WorldCat, the largest online catalog of libraries worldwide. I wonder if they made up the titles and authors for this film. And yes, I also looked up the movie’s full cast and crew on IMDb.com, but didn’t find those names listed there, either.

You knew I was going to look all that up, right? ;)

So we go from the close-up of the books in Ray’s hands to the librarian’s hands. She looks up with a smile on her face, “Are you expecting a little one?” And after Ray confirms this, her response is a delighted, “Well, how wonderful!”

This friendly local librarian (Kira Bradley, see below) is quite young and attractive, with blonde hair pinned back in curls. Her dress (a grey, floral print dress and dark cardigan) and accessories (colorful stud earrings and beaded necklace) look conservative yet also fun and modern for the time period.

Hi, I'm your friendly local librarian

Because of this reel librarian’s warm and friendly demeanor, Ray feels confident enough to follow up with a question.

Ray:  Do you have any books on Heinrich Schliemann? [Note: Livy mentioned this name while talking about what she studied in graduate school]

Librarian [puzzled expression]:  Is that ‘sh’ or ‘sch’?

Ray:  Your guess is as good as mine. I think he was an archaeologist.

Librarian: Let me have a look.

The librarian is obviously able to find him some information on the subject. About 50 minutes into the TV movie, Ray brings up the subject at the dinner table in an effort to connect with Livy’s interests. Success! :)

During this very brief scene, which lasts less than a minute, we also get glimpses of wooden bookcases, shutters, red brick, desk lamps, and a flash of a card catalog on the main check-out counter. Despite the scene’s brevity, the bright lighting and setting of this library, combined with the warmth of this Information Provider, provide a very positive portrayal overall of librarians and libraries. This public library is a resource not only for its local population, but for its rural users, as well.

Love in the stacks

In this oddball of a film, I Love You to Death (1990), loyal Italian-American Rosalie (Tracey Ullman) blinds herself at first to the philandering ways of her husband, Joey (Kevin Kline). No spoiler alerts here, as the whole premise of the film is about how — and how many times — Rosalie tries to kill Joey after finding out about the cheating. I Love You to Death is one of those black comedies that hasn’t quite got the right balance of comedy and fearlessness necessary to pull the whole thing off. And it’s an ensemble with some really big names (River Phoenix, William Hurt, Keanu Reeves) in throwaway parts.

And how does Rosalie find out about Joey’s cheating? Ooh, boy, in the least expected place, of course: the library. Cue the violins.

About a half-hour into the film, Rosalie walks into a local public library branch with a stack of children’s books under her arm. After putting the books on the front counter, she says to the librarian on duty, “I’m returning these,” receiving a pleasant smile and standard response of “Ok, thanks.” The reel librarian, a young white female (Audrey Rapoport), is dressed conservatively, albeit colorfully, in a zipped-up red dress and pastel blue cardigan encrusted with flowers. Her brownish hair is pulled back, and her minimal jewelry consists of small pearl drop earrings and a ring.

There appears to be another reel librarian toward the back of the shot, talking to a couple of patrons. From the angle of the shot, she looks to be behind the counter, so I’m also including her as a reel librarian. This female (uncredited), also white but middle-aged, wears a cardigan/sweater (of course), along with a bright orange scarf. Two Information Providers in the Class IV category.

The camera quickly ditches the lumpy sweaters and follows Rosalie as she wanders through the library stacks. Soon enough, she overhears her husband’s distinctive voice (and terrible Italian accent) and spies the two soon-to-be-lovers kissing inbetween the rows of books.

Thank goodness she's not a reel librarian

Obviously, these two are NOT conducting the usual kind of reference interview.

Woman: “What am I doing in a library?”

Joey: “What’s that perfume? You smell so good. What?”

Woman: “Not here. They’re gonna throw us out.”

Joey:  ”Good. Get your book and let’s get out of here.”

Woman:  ”Where are we gonna go?”

Joey:  ”I say we go to your place, have a good time.”

Woman:  ”What about your wife?”

Joey:  ”No, she can’t come. All set? Come on. I gotta get back to work soon.”

Here is Rosalie’s devastated reaction:

As the camera reveals both the infidelity and the wife’s reaction through the rows of books, we, the audience, are voyeurs on both sides. We are participants in both the passion and the pain.

Poor Rosalie. She was just looking for books, but her husband was looking for love in all the wrong places.

Not your typical Last Supper

The Last Supper (1995) focuses on five liberal grad students, rooming together in a big Iowa farmhouse. Smugly proud of their forward-thinking ways, they nonetheless find themselves succumbing to murderous temptations when faced with extreme right-wing thinkers at their dinner table. Funny how those tomato plants in the backyard keep multiplying…

This little-known film pulls together threads of pitch-black comedy and morality puzzlers like in Hitchcock’s Rope. And for such a small-scale film, it boasts quite a number of star cameos, including Bill Paxton, Charles Durning, Mark Harmon, and Ron Perlman. Annabeth Gish was arguably the biggest “name” in the cast at the time the film was released, but it also stars Cameron Diaz and Courtney B. Vance in roles before they hit it big. Alas, the most interesting bits in the film are the opening (and ending) credits, which could illustrate an anthology of Flannery O’Connor‘s most disturbing short stories.

*SPOILER ALERT*

So how does the reel librarian, played by South African actress and award-winning playwright Pamela Gien, end up in this Class III film? Dead, of course, with a knife in her back. Thaaaaat’s gotta hurt.

But let me back up a bit. How does she end up dead? A little over 50 minutes into the film, this (gotta be) single white female finds herself at the head of the table. Although obviously quite young, her conservative dress; minimal, if any, makeup; and nondescript hairstyle age her considerably. Strike one.

Who, me? The 'Illiterate Librarian' in The Last Supper

This meek librarian’s mannerisms also convey her inner Puritan; she puts her hand across her chest and also uses it covers her mouth, almost as if to block any direct, or indirect, contact. Strike two.

And then she opens her mouth, speaking in a high-pitched, nervous voice:

Catcher in the Rye is supposed to be art? Thumbelina is art. Catcher in the Rye is just mean-spirited garbage littered with the “F” word.

Strike three!

They all laugh, and Luke (Courtney B. Vance) proclaims, “I’ve heard enough. How about a toast?” (FYI, they’d been killing people with poisoned wine.)

Interrupted by the doorbell, three of the wannabe philosophers leave the room. They come back to find the reel librarian draped over a chair, stabbed in the back. Why? Because she didn’t drink wine. (Of course! Strike four!)

That's gotta hurt

Although we actually do learn her name throughout the scene, Barbara Mensa, this Comic Relief librarian gets credited as “The Illiterate Librarian.” And she continues to inspire controversy after her demise.

Marc (Jonathan Penner): ”But look at her. She was just an illiterate. I mean, we’re getting out of hand.”

Paulie (Annabeth Gish): “They’re not people. They’re people who hate.”

Jude (Cameron Diaz):  ”What are you talking about? She just had bad taste.”

So there you have it. Fellow librarians, dissing Catcher in the Rye in public can lead to very bad things. I’ll be keeping my own opinions on that controversial classic to myself. ;)

Calling all the beautiful girls

I caught Beautiful Girls (1996) on Hulu recently. For a movie that explores different versions of masculine ambivalence on the eve of a high school reunion (a reunion in winter? huh?), it comes as no surprise that it’s hard to feel anything but ambivalence toward the movie itself. I had seen it once before, years ago, and it was memorable only in my memory for featuring a young Natalie Portman (albeit in a slightly creepy subplot). It’s the kind of movie that substitutes songs for character development.

So about a half hour into the film, hapless girlfriend Sharon (Mira Sorvino) commiserates with her girlfriends about her cheating boyfriend Tommy (Matt Dillon).

Her friend Gina (Rosie O’Donnell) cheers her up by painting this scenario:

You’re going to have to break up with him, and you’re going to have to break up with him now. Now getting over him, that’s going to be the hard part. I know. Believe me, I know. It’s true. At first, after the breakup, you’ll have these visions. Of you alone, 57, 58, walking around wearing a nightgown, your hair in a bun. Maybe you’re a librarian, heating up a can of soup for one and worrying about the cobwebs that are growing in your womb.

Again, the specter of the Spinster Librarian nightmare. Gee, thanks.

At this point, I thought, ok, it’s going to be a Class V film, one that mentions a librarian but doesn’t include an actual librarian. But I was wrong.

An hour and ten minutes in, right after another inspiring soliloquy, this one by actor Michael Rappaport about the allure of supermodels (“A beautiful girl can make you dizzy, like you’ve been drinking Jack and Coke all morning”) we cut to a scene in the public library, where Tommy is trying to end his affair with Darian (Lauren Hutton). Is it merely coincidence that a librarian — this time an actual one — provides the backdrop for yet another breakup scene? Methinks perhaps not.

The librarian in Beautiful Girls

The older female librarian (uncredited) is standing up behind the circulation desk, checking out books to a couple of young boys. Her grey bobbed hair and bangs match her grey blazer, and her glasses sit low on her nose. No lanyard or bun in sight, thank goodness. She sits down as the camera pans to the back of the library toward Tommy and Darian. The bit of the desk visible reveals the standard movie props for libraries:  stacks of books, a globe, a carousel of book stamps, a small card file, a bookstand, and in a nod to modern technology, a computer and scanner. Your average Information Provider, elevating the film into the Class IV category.

This scene was filmed at Franklin Library, a branch library of the Minneapolis Public Library system. This site provides a very thorough exploration of the filming location, plus more recent photos of this beautiful Carnegie library.