Monday, May 19, 2014

Nora Ephron's Birthday and my Lame Horizon.

Around noon today I learned that it was Nora Ephron's birthday.  Ever since, I've been wondering if it was sexist of me to not include her on the Mt. Rushmore of Screwball.

I don't know.  I don't think so.  Beyond the fact that she simply skews more rom-com than screwball, it's kind of a no-brainer that Wilder would fill the Teddy spot.

What I do know is that Nora was never my favorite.  And without a doubt that's due to pure, unbridled jealousy.  I wanted to be Nora, but Nora was already being Nora, and so I kind of hated her for it.  As much as I loved her.  It was pretty easy to cloak my envy with "objective criticism" because she actually was pretty uneven.  But, really, who isn't?  (Especially us creative-types).  When she was bad, she was indeed horrid, but most important and significant is that when she was good she was very good indeed.

I'm pretty sure that was sexist of me.  Would I have used a poem about a crying baby girl to describe Lubitsch?

Hmmm...  I wouldn't not do that, I don't think.
Actually, yes, I can see myself doing that.  For sure.

But that's less evidence against sexism and more an indictment of my lack of originality and bone-deep lame-ass-ness.  Longfellow?  Really?

Pfft.  Yes, really.  I mean, I write a blog about screwball comedies and rom-coms, my Lame Horizon is far and wide.

All that said, let's overlook me and spend a moment contemplating the very good Nora Ephron.