Nothing Is Too Much of a Stritch for Elaine

"Pretty sassy, idn’t? … Isn’t [she] divine?"

Autumn in New Yorkwas a Love Story directed by Joan Chen in 2000 that offered a May/December romance ala the Sabrina remake and As Good as It Gets from just a few years previously.  Richard Gere plays a womanizer and Ryder plays an old friend’s dying daughter.  This film was kind of gross, because how does a man really become better by falling in love with a woman over twenty years younger than him, who is going to die anyway—as if it was some kind of common occurrence?  (She’s always going to be young in his eyes; now, that's love!)  But, apparently, we must attribute his proclivities towards young women to unreconciled issues with his own slightly older daughter.  Much to the film’s credit, it, at the very least, perpetually acknowledges Will’s man-child complex.  The whole premise banked on the audience caring about watching Gere become a better person (funny how it takes such young women to accomplish this), as Ryder unsuccessfully tried to rehabilitate her image having shot so many commercial misfires in-a-row.  



Autumn would be yet another professional misstep from the quite unalert Winona Ryder as her career was beginning to slide into kleptomaniac oblivion.  Ryder was probably hoping for Pretty Woman, but she hadn't yet learned that box-office viability doesn’t come from playing downer characters (it’s all about balance).  At one point, there is some serious Lifetime channel love-making with, yes, Ryder’s hand pressed up against a cloudy glass partition, while Gere gives it to her from behind.  While she commits to the role and is better than I remember her, the awful quality of the script nullifies her contributions.  I actually paid money to see it in the cinema when it first opened. Also in the cast is Vera Farmiga, J.K. Simmons, Jill Hennessy, Anthony LaPaglia, Sherry Stringfield, Kali Rocha, and, as the almost unrecognizable gaytastic best friend, Sam Trammell (who now butches it up as Sam Merlotte on True Blood)—this was around the time the sassy gay best friends were becoming the norm, thanks to Will & Grace.  But, the reason why this movie matters most is that it introduced me (as well as I’m sure the few fellow clueless members left of my generation) to the wildly talented Elaine Stritch (who I probably saw on The Cosby Show, but didn’t have the good sense to remember).  The legendary theatrical actress gained wider-spread notoriety in the early 2000s, thanks to her one-woman show (winning her a Tony), as well as various television guest spots including her Emmy-winning reoccurring guest role as Jack Donaghy’s (Alec Baldwin) mother on the still airing 30 Rock. 

One of the harbingers of this Winter-career surge for Stritch was dubiously Autumn.  She first arrived in the frame of the film as Dolores “Dolly” Tallridge, commenting on Gere’s well-preserved visage.  Not recognizing her at first, he reaches in for an excited embrace, prompting Dolly to warn him,  “Careful of the cocktail!”  Priorities!  She further advises him to “Spare me the bullshit.”  She’s at his restaurant to celebrate her granddaughter Charlotte’s birthday (played by Ryder), who, along with all of her friends, including Sam Merlotte (who wouldn't mind a few rounds with Daddylicious Gere), go absolutely gaga over the suave silver-foxed restaurateur.  Additionally, they’re all wearing crazy hats made by Charlotte.  And, truth be told, if there is something this film (and the rest of the world) needs is more crazy hats from Charlotte Fielding.  STAT.

The next time we see Dolly, Will comes to visit Charlotte, and she receives him with a long string of “well’s” before inviting him in to her favorite hobby, “Care for a cock-a-tail … Scotch? … My kind of guy.”  The writing is pretty sub-par, but the seasoned pro Stritch knows how to give these boiled potatoes some much needed flavor.  She talks about time and how precious and discriminate it is before requesting Will leave her granddaughter alone.  Unsurprisingly, it turns out that, like Stritch, Dolly is an alcoholic.  The next time Stritch makes her way onscreen, she has to console the unsuspecting Charlotte over her mother’s unreciprocated love for Will.  The writing continues on its terrible trek, but Stritch knows just how to play up dull, as well as temper over-the-top.  Dolly explains how Will broke her daughter’s heart: “The next thing you knew, he was knocking up Millie-what’s-her-name-in-a-cabana.”  “Millie?” Charlotte restates the name in disbelief.  Mildly annoyed by her granddaughter not keeping up with the conversation (well, she's probably more miffed at Will's callousness), firmly retorts, “YOUR MOTHER’S DOUBLES PARTNER.”  After Charlotte informs Dolly that she could have told her that her mother had affections for her current lover, she delivers the line that made Autumn at all possible, “Yeah, I could of, but I didn’t.”  The scene ends in tears as Charlotte informs her grandmother in not so many words that she has failed as a guardian, leaving Dolly to soak her sorrows in scotch straight up. 

In a wordless scene much later in the movie, the concerned Dolly is shocked that her granddaughter has asked to see Will to her deathbed instead of her.  Again, with no lines, every major castmember waiting at the hospital, including Stritch with her mouth agape, gets a close-up as they watch the doctor approach them with the grim news.  For having very little to work with, as well as minimal screentime, Stritch manages to offer so much.  Feel free to check out her contributions on Netflix.  

[Image via Wikipedia]