Playing Favorites

We asked five otherwise sober, emotionally balanced journalists to tell us which movie stars they're nuts enough about to see in anything. And while they're at it, they tell us which stars they were addicted to back in their silly teen years.

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Geena Davis by Eve Golden

Here's proof that I will go to any movie Geena Davis is in: Quick Change. No force less than Geena could make me sit through a movie featuring Bill Murray.

My obsession with Geena Davis is really just as much masochism as admiration. I'm usually pretty happy with my looks--kinda Cher, kinda Connie Sellecca. But one look at Geena Davis and I feel like Daniel Day-Lewis in drag. "Oh my God, what a terrible movie," my date was muttering as we staggered out of Quick Change. I was already mentally pricing plastic surgeons.

And you know what makes it worse? She can act, damn her eyes. I'd love to dismiss her as another Daryl Hannah or Julia Roberts and say, well, yeah, she's pretty, but she's no Bernhardt. Well, okay, she is no Bernhardt. But--I know Geena's not gonna like this--she's one of the best screwball comediennes since Lombard or Colbert. Watch that timing, those reactions, in Earth Girls Are Easy and Beetlejuice. She hates being called "kooky," but there you are. "Kooky" is what she does best so Geena better learn to love it or shove it.

For about 10 years, ever since she debuted in her step-ins in Tootsie, I've been shelling out my $7.50 (New York prices) to sit in darkness and seethe in jealousy at her perfect figure, incredible cheekbones and terrific mouth. Not to mention that nose--she's the only person who doesn't look stupid with a little button nose.

So I sat through Fletch. I sat through Transylvania 6-5000. I sat through Hero. I actually enjoyed Earth Girls (I'm also a pushover for anything Julie Brown does), as well as Beetlejuice, A League of Their Own and Thelma & Louise (although I'm not generally a big fan of white-trash cinema). I even watched both her TV series (remember "Sara"? Didn't think so).

I read all Geena's interviews in the hope that she'd voice opinions so horrendous I'd never be able to stand the sight of her again (hey, worked with Mel Gibson). But Geena seems to be a really nice gal. Intelligent, feminist, humorous, glamorous--attributes I admire in anyone, male or female. Like Lombard or Colbert, Geena would be a great pal. I even forgave her for going blonde (she looks much better as a brunette), and for getting that tattoo. Looking into the mirror, I sigh loudly, then decide I'd be proud to play Ethel to Geena's Lucy.

The only other performer besides Geena Davis that ever unfailingly drew me into a theater was Lillian Gish. Lillian Gish only made a few films during my childhood--remember Follow Me, Boys!? The Comedians? But having been a silent-film fan since cradle days, and having seen everything I could that she was in, there I was in theaters, front-row center, for the late and less great part of her oeuvre. Not only that, I shall go to my grave proclaiming that The Whales of August was the best film of 1987.

Lillian Gish became a good friend of mine, and my model of aging gracefully--I'm looking at a photo of her at 91 that she gave me before she died. If I can't look like Geena Davis now, I'll more than settle for looking like Lillian Gish at 91.

Steve Martin by Martha Frankel

The way I see it, the world is divided into two groups. The first group (of which I am president!) believes that The Jerk, All of Me and My Blue Heaven are the most hysterical films ever committed to celluloid, and that their star, Steve Martin, is the comic genius of our time.

The second group is made up entirely of assholes.

When I was a teenager, I was gaga crazy for Steve McQueen and would watch his movies over and over again until my sister and parents wanted to throw up and/or have me committed. I loved the way Steve wore his hair (in the style of Julius Caesar). I loved the way he eyed the girls, from head to toe, without the slightest embarrassment. I loved the way he was always the good guy, even when he was doing something sleazy (_Bullitt_, The Thomas Crown Affair, The Getaway, Papillon and others). Quite simply, I thought Steve McQueen was the sexiest, smartest fellow around, and I spent my Saturday afternoons dreaming that one day I'd find a guy just like him.

Fortunately, I never did. I found a real, flesh-and-blood guy who would not, for a split second, think of sleeping with that tramp Ann-Margret, even if I were back on the farm visiting my parents, like in The Cincinnati Kid. The bonus is that his name is also Steve, which makes it less embarrassing when I moan, "Oh, Steve, oh Steve."

Steve McQueen was my last crush. I gave up on him right around the time he and Ali MacGraw did The Getaway. I hardly even noticed when he starred in The Towering Inferno. I cried when he died, the way you do when a favorite uncle dies and doesn't leave you any money.

A few years later, I saw Steve Martin in The Jerk and never looked back.

Where McQueen was all interior (brooding, thoughtful, laconic, sexy as hell), Martin is all on the outside. He's funny in his body, his thoughts, his words. He can dance, he can play the banjo, he can do sight gags. Even when he appeared on-screen with his real-life-lox-of-a-wife, Victoria Tennant, there was absolutely nothing sexy about him, but who cares? Sex you can get at home. At Steve Martin movies, you get fun.

In his mile-a-minute delivery, he can say so much that it takes dozens of viewings to get some of the subtler jokes. Like in The Man With Two Brains, when he tells someone his name. "A lot of people mispronounce it," he says, "but it sounds just the way it's spelled. H-F-U-H-R-U-H-U-R-R."

I admit he's had his clinkers. Nothing could have saved Three Amigos! or even The Muppet Movie. But Martin's role as the sadistic dentist in Little Shop of Horrors was the best thing in that film. Even Leap of Faith, which was trashed by the critics, shows his amazing range and talent. He can be dumb, as he is in The Jerk, but he'll still get you to think. He can be an overbearing mobster, in My Blue Heaven, and still get you to understand his plight. When Lily Tomlin's spirit enters his body in All of Me, Martin is at his very best. His face shows surprise and indignation; his body shows the struggle of a woman and a man fighting for control.

Steve Martin can do anything. Hell, he has done everything, from Cyrano de Bergerac (_Roxanne_) to playing the straight man (_Parenthood_). Sure, there are a lot of cute, brooding guys out there, but how many of them can really make you laugh?

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