Video Beaverhausen:Cobra Woman with the Divine Maria Montez

What divine hokum this is! Now officially on dvd from Universal Classics. It's a camp classic for sure.

Maria Montez is reported to have said, "Sometimes I look in the mirror and think I am the most beautiful woman I have ever seen!"

This Dominican's beauty and ego took her far in Hollywood's exotic South Seas mini-epics.

Cobra Woman is, in my opinion, one of the all-time great camp classics. I love it when Montez declares, "I am the rrrrrightful rrrrrrruler of dees island paradise!" or "Geef me da cobra jewells!"

Montez's Cobra Dance is a must see! What a klutzy dance it is as she hilariously strikes a pose, vogues and points out peasant women to be sacrificed to the volcano. Ah, yes, the volcano figures largely into the climax.

Jon Hall and Sabu co-star. When you see Montez walking through the L.A. Botanical Gardens as part of her tropical island, you're assured this is top-notch tacky!

Favorite dialogue:
Sabu: So you're the boss here?
Queen: No, I'm only the queen.

Even my straight brother commented on the outrageousness of all the headpieces in this flick!

Must be seen to be believed. I first saw this on tv, then at St Marks Cinemas on the screen in the '80s. Brilliant Technicolor!

Don't Go Near the Water

Like old flotsam and jetsam, sick jokes from the aftermath of Natalie Wood's 1981 drowning are resurfacing: "Why didn't Natalie Wood take a shower on the boat? Because she was going to wash up ashore." "What kind of wood doesn't float? Natalie." "What was the last thing Natalie Wood's mother said to her before she died? 'Natalie, honey, it's OK to have a few cocktails, but don't go overboard!'"

With that cold case now reheated, more than 30 years later, here come those jokes, in our faces like a gush of stagnant, salty water. Spinning out of the murky vortex off Catalina Island, here's Natalie Wood's drowning: the remix!

Dennis Davern, cap'n of the yacht, "Splendour," owned by Ms Wood and husband Robert Wagner, finally decided to make a few bucks by writing a tell-all account about the incident in 2009. It was entitled, "Goodbye Natalie, Goodbye Splendour," co-written with one Marti Rulli. Thanks for the blah-blah-blah, Cap, but looks like you may be in deep seawater yourself. In the book, the Cap'n said he believes Wood's death was a direct result of a fight with Wagner. In 2010, His Nibs said he believes the investigation of Wood's death was incompetent and suggested there was a cover-up. He added that he "regrets" misleading investigators by keeping quiet... at Robert Wagner's request.

Well, shiver me timbers! When asked if our fearless Cap'n could face charges for possibly lying to authorities during the 1981 investigation, the police lieutenant in charge of the re-opened investigation had this to say: "We'll probably end up talking to the captain sooner or later, and we'll assess what he has to say then and now."

All right, Caps, get yourself a lawyer. Now! 'Cause there's a storm brewin' on the horizon, I gotta tell you, lookin' out my crow's nest.

As a life-long non-swimmer (only one of many skills I've failed to master due to extreme but unexplainable lack of interest), I shudder with horror at the thought of death by drowning. Natalie Wood said, once, in a tv interview, that her greatest fear was of dark seawater. I can empathize, and shudder at the thought of that ever happening to me. Still, I took two separate swimming classes at the Y and flunked both!

Three-time Oscar nominee, Natalie, may have sung "I Feel Pretty" in the film version of West Side Story (ok, actually, she lip-synched to it if you wanna get technical) but, when her body was found floating in the water about a mile away from the yacht, she was wearing a long nightgown, socks and a down jacket.

Less-talented sibling, Lana Wood, took offense. "My sister... would never go to another boat or to shore dressed in a nightgown and socks!"

So many fashion faux pas when we die suddenly! Maria Montez was, no doubt, feeling pretty, too, when she drowned. In her own bathroom, yet! Maria could swim; I remember, from watching Cobra Woman, but that doesn't help in your bathtub. Foul play was expected, though the official cause of death was listed as "heart attack." Well, I mean, yeah; you drown, your heart stops, right?

So, don't go near the water! Look what happened to Isadora Duncan, just driving by it (at least in the movie version starring Vanessa Redgrave)! Isadora was no doubt feeling pretty when she grandly tossed that long, flowing scarf about her neck ... only to choke when it got caught in the open-spoked tire and rear axle of the automobile in which the dancing diva was but a blithe and carefree passenger. Don't you hate it when attempts at egomaniacal fabulousness go wrong!

Natalie may have found Splendor in the Grass but she should have stuck with terra firma, because the more firmer, the less terror! Never mind Splendour on the choppy water!

"It would be very satisfying to pin down an exact cause to Natalie Wood's death (and possibly who else was involved), but it doesn't seem like we'll be getting that luxury. Not yet, anyway," said E! On-line News last night with pronounced disappointment. "The Los Angeles Sheriff's Department confirmed to E! News that there has not been any evidence of foul play in the iconic Hollywood star's case and it is still being ruled as an accidental drowning. However, they also stress that the case 'is still being investigated and is still active.'"

Cap'n, I said get yourself a lawyer. Now!

My Fair Lady

I spent this weekend in the sunny, fresh air of Florida's southern Gulf Coast but under a personal dark cloud as my mother remains in critical condition in the hospital. I stayed two nights at her otherwise empty home and my brother stayed with me, overnight Saturday, keeping me from too much morbid reminiscing there. Obviously, we had a lot to discuss, mostly indoors but also, in the evening, under the constellations in the clear night, on the lawn, with the scent of jasmine and lavender surrounding us as we reenforced our fraternal bond over a few beers.

Pop music was such a big part of our upbringing. I remember, as a pre-schooler, graduating from my Little Golden Records when my mother bought me my first 45 rpm: "How Much Is That Doggie in the Window?" by Miss Patti Page. A few years later, when Mom took me to a downtown record shop, I chose the original London cast recording of My Fair Lady with Julie Andrews and Rex Harrison. It was a thing that made Mom go hmmm as the probably-gay salesclerk chirped, "He's so precocious!"

My brother and I settled on a double-feature, from Mom's collection of dvds, to end our night. First, we watched Cobra Woman (Universal, 1944) starring Maria Montez, the Queen of Technicolor and Icon of Camp Style, in her greatest role. Or should I say "roles" as Ms Montez portrays both good-girl Tollea and her evil twin, the seductive and cruel high priestess Naja. Her co-star is handsome Jon Hall who wears the same outfit, appropriate for cruising the Folsom Street Fair, throughout.

The action mostly takes place on a volcanic South Seas island with exterior shots that bear a suspicious resemblance to the L.A. Botanic Garden. You haven't lived until you see Maria do the Cobra Dance in front of a serpentine puppet, undulating and spinning in a klutzy frenzy as she points out maidens to be sacrificed to the volcano god.

With her thick Dominican accent, Ms Montez barks out lines like "I am da rrrightful rrruler of dis island!" and "Geef me da cobrrra joo-uls!" My brother noted the plethora of turbans and other ridiculous headdresses that overwhelm Cobra Woman in a manic display of tacky costume design. It was the unintentional laugh-fest we needed during this trying time.

The second feature was Warner Brothers' stark and gritty "Caged" (1950) starring Eleanor Parker who received an Oscar nomination for this. She portrays 19-year-old Marie Allen, an innocent sent to women's prison who, instead of being reformed, comes out a hardened criminal.

Hope Emerson's prototypical nasty matron, Evelyn Harper, was also Oscar nominated. The entire supporting cast is divine, especially Agnes Moorehead (as the warden seeking reform), Betty Garde and Lee Patrick (in thinly veiled Sapphic parts).

Reportedly, screenwriter Virginia Kellogg had herself incarcerated and weaved true stories she witnessed into her screenplay. With striking brilliance, this social critique of the penal system also presciently details paternalistic sexism (before the term was coined), ingrained misogyny and female bonding. The very powerful direction is by John Cromwell.

I went to sleep that night secretly thanking my mother for helping to mold and shape my tastes, for the music she bought me when I was a kid and for all the films she introduced or took me to. Not only could I obviously not be the individual I am today without her but, in terms of pop culture, I might be so much the poorer. The music and movies she led me to, in our working-class surroundings, buoyed me for a lifetime, Technicolored my world even when things got grey and brought joy to my life. Had she been home this weekend, no doubt we'd be watching newly discovered old film gems on Turner Classic Movies, our dialog a running commentary.

Does enchantment pour out of every door? Mom, it's just on the street where you live.