And some born in the nineteenth century as well.

After all, the woman did live for ever and worked every day of her life. Think of it: when you studied composition with Fauré, organ with Guilmant and Vierne, have a sentimental, um, relationship with the Princesse de Polignac, argue analysis with Saint-Saëns, advised your student Piazzolla to ignore modernism and stick to tango, encouraged Bacharach in his métier, and lived to teach Jeremy Menuhin, you have time to teach a lot of folks.

And the fact that you have attended concerts of so many of them is to her credit, and yours.

I guess I am not OLD enough to have ever seen this before.

NYCO should stage it. Right away.

There’s also a shot of Ullman leading a line of kids down a mountain–perhaps it’s part of this same song sequence, all doing synchronized arm waves in the air and kind of dancing on the rocks. I saw a quick clip of it on TV once and thought it the triumph of kitsch.

Let’s give Burt B some credit – he was a student of Boulanger (believe it or not), and his music does show a sophisticated style of harmony and meter not common with pop composers of his era.

Best thing about this movie was cutie pie Bobby Van, taken too soon.

After derided preview screenings, Columbia Pictures re-cut the film, but to no avail. Critic John Simon remarked that it “must have arrived in garbage rather than in film cans”. The songs were written by Burt Bacharach and Hal David, whose long partnership hit rocky ground within months of this film’s release. The film was such a poor performer at the box office that it was nicknamed “Lost Investment.”

“A square is a rhomboid without a circumference and nobody knows what this simile means”

Everyone in this movie looks so chagrined: as well they should.

Not sure I get the Fleming connection, however. But then I’m old and easily confused.