A week or so back, my cable inadvertently turned on HBO and I taped a few things before they cut the feed. One was Hemingway & Gellhorn. I love Clive Owen, but I can't say that I have ever been a big fan of Nicole Kidman. When the movie started, I was pleasantly surprised that I like Kidman as the elderly Gellhorn.
Clive Owen played Hemingway in the irascible, horrible, pain-in-the-ass way that one expects he might have been, but frankly Clive Owen is no Hemingway. Every time someone called him "Papa" it made me laugh. Hemingway at his most filthy and uncouth still managed to get the girl, which I find interesting if not a bit odd. Clive Owen covered in sewage would always get the girl. On of the producers of this film was James Gandolfini. Gandolfini would have been a great "Papa" so why do they always cast the pretty boy? Kidman spent a lot of her time throwing her rucksack across her shoulder. It seemed to make Kidman uncomfortable, as this was probably the first time on 30 years that she ever carried her own luggage. I think Philip Kaufman is a great director and Henry & June is one of my favorite movies. It is too bad that Kaufman didn't cast Hemingway and Gellhorn with the same quirkiness he used in Henry & June. It might have been greatly improved.
There is a good bit of food in Hemingway's writing and historian Craig Boreth compiled many of those recipes in The Hemingway Cookbook. Long out of print and quite collectible, the book is getting a second shot this year when it is republished and launched again.
During one scene in the Hemingway & Gellhorn the couple is in the famous El Floridita.
|Hemingway at El Floridita with his arm around Spencer Tracy and his back to wife number four, Mary.|
There Hemingway makes his favorite drink, the Papa Doble. This recipe is based upon the Daiquirí recipe from El Floridita that Hemingway drinks with A. E. Hotchner in his book Papa Hemingway.
Here is another example of Boreth pulling a recipe from fact and fiction.
Clearly, there must have been something magical about Hemingway. Name the last dirty guy, covered in fish scales and reeking of peanut butter and onions that you would take home to mama?