THE MIGHTY B.C.*

I swear sometimes this blog is like one long In Memoriam tribute, but I gotta acknowledge the passing of Bud Cort. 

I was 12 years old when I first caught Harold and Maude on TV, and it was exactly the right time in my life for that movie to find me. I was a shy, quirky kid just entering middle school, and while people are somewhat forgiving to shy, quirky, little kids, by the time you hit that pre-pubescent stage, you notice that you're suddenly expected to straighten up, blend in, and CONFORM. The halls of my middle school were filled with these mean, nasty little preppy clones who had not only gotten the memo, they enthusiastically embraced and celebrated their uniformity. It was all profoundly depressing, and I wondered if this was what life was going to be like for the rest of forever. 

Then I saw Harold and Maude, this wonderfully weird, darkly funny, big-hearted film that was unlike anything I'd ever encountered before. I remember thinking, "Someone gets it." And that brought me a great deal of comfort.         

Ruth Gordon was brilliant of course, but Bud Cort was a revelation.

Sometime later, I learned that BC was also the voice of the computer in Electric Dreams, a romantic comedy that I'd loved for years. I couldn't believe it--Harold was Edgar, and Edgar was Harold! It made me love him even more. (I still maintain that Electric Dreams is a darling movie, even though there seems to be lots of mixed opinions on it. And the new wave soundtrack totally rules--I wore it out on cassette tape as a youngster.)

BC with Virginia Madsen on the set of Electric Dreams.
How adorable are they?!?

I think I'm finally going to have to bite the bullet and check out Brewster McCloud. Even though I'm not an Altman fan, I'll do it for Bud.

I mean, just look at him with Shelley Duvall! 

I like to think they became besties after this.

In fact, BC actually made an appearance on an episode of Duvall's Faerie Tale Theatre years later. I have vague recollections of that show, and now I think I'm going to have to hunt that one down as well.

The most surprising place Bud Cort turned up was this outtake from Arnold Schwarzenegger's Pumping Iron, of all things. I had no idea this clip existed until recently, when I came across it among all the online tributes. I love how chill and down-to-earth Bud comes off in it. And dig his groovy leisure suit at the end!

Rest in peace, Bud. 

You made generations of oddball kids feel seen.

*A play on the title of this excellent tune by the late, great, doomed For Squirrels. If you want to disappear down a rabbit hole--and discover some good music--check 'em out.

 DAMMIT, NOT DIANE! 

I was texting with my friend Shelley about favorite films recently, and she asked a hypothetical question: if you were on your deathbed and you were able to pick ONE movie to watch, the last movie you'd see before shuffling off this mortal coil, what would it be?

For me? Annie Hall. No question.   

"Wonderful, then why don't you get William F. Buckley to kill the spider?"

Then I said, wait....what if it took me a while to kick off and I had some more time to kill (pun intended)? If that were the case, I'd have to add Manhattan. Shelley said that Manhattan was problematic because of the whole Mariel Hemingway thing. I said, well, it's my last day on earth, and unless Mia Farrow is standing at my bedside with a hypodermic full of bleach ready to inject into my jugular, I'm watching Manhattan, too. 

Also co-starring Diane Keaton. 

And I thought, hold on....if I'm watching Manhattan, I am absolutely watching Sleeper. Also with Diane Keaton. (This scene with the bad poetry is one of my favorites. She's brilliant.)

"DAMMIT! I always get that wrong!"

And if I'm throwing in Sleeper, I gotta throw in Love and Death to round it all out. Also? Diane.

Shelley pointed out that if I watched those movies in that order, Annie Hall wouldn't, in fact, be the last movie I ever saw. So I said, okay then, reverse it. I'll do Love and Death, Sleeper, Manhattan, and then Annie Hall.  

But I gotta end with Annie Hall, for sure. It's as close to perfect as a movie gets.

   

R.I.P. Diane. You were a real one, as the kids say.

KEITH OLSEN 

1945 - 2020

Last May I got the chance to hang out with Keith Olsen at his home in Genoa (Nevada, not Italy). My friend Pat was close with Keith and his wife, and I tagged along when she and her boyfriend Frank stopped by to see them one beautiful sunny afternoon. 

I was so fortunate to have the opportunity to meet Keith. I got to see his home recording studio that featured a wall of artists he's worked with: Rick Springfield (Keith produced "Jessie's Girl"), Fleetwood Mac, Journey, Pat Benatar, Foreigner, Heart, Ozzy Osbourne, Whitesnake, The Grateful Dead, and countless others. Anytime you tune into one of the classic rock stations on Sirius, you're almost guaranteed to hear something Keith produced.

The four of us hung out in his living room, drank some iced tea and listened to Keith reminisce. I was full of questions, of course, and Keith had some really amazing stories about his years in the music business. 

Just before we headed back to Tahoe, Keith called us all outside so we could help him feed the deer that had shown up at his property for their daily snacks. All these deer, just hanging out in his yard. He handed us some buckets of whatever he fed them (deer chow?) and about a dozen of these little cuties gathered around us, waiting patiently for their treats. 

It was a magical afternoon. 

Keith passed away at his home last month at the age of 74. Cardiac arrest. He is survived by his wife Janice, three children, and two grandchildren. You can read his NYT obit here.

Rest in peace, dude. You are a fucking legend.