The Sunday movie trilogy: Blondie & Martin & Lewis & Andy Hardy & Francis & Abbott & Costello

When I was a young lass, we lived in an apartment in Roxborough, Philadelphia, where I shared a room with my sister. We were permitted to have a TV in the room, THANK GOD, because otherwise, how would I have curled up on my bed on Sunday mornings and soaked in the Sunday movie trilogy of:

1. A Blondie movie, the series (about 10,000 sequels long, I think?) starring the perfectly cast Penny Singleton and Arthur Lake.
OR
An Andy Hardy movie, starring Mickey Rooney.

2. A Martin & Lewis movie (my all-time favorite is "Artists & Models")

3. An Abbott & Costello movie
OR
A Francis the Talking Mule movie, starring, uh, Francis (though I hear they dubbed his voice) and Donald O'Connor.

Perfect Sundays, all. I have a ridiculous affection for the actors in these movies, and a love for Jerry Lewis and Dean Martin that even Jerry Lewis and Dean Martin can't ruin. Donald O'Connor may be famous for "Singing in the Rain", but to me he was the better steadfast friend to a mule. (Francis was wise, though, and brave. He went to war, for god's sake.)

This is art, yes, but it's art that aims low and hits the mark. It's an uncomplicated, unquestioning kind of art that asserts a profound pull on a child: this is what adults are like, and they are just like you. They make mistakes. They are silly. They are confused about what to do, and they need each other's help. They are fun and they are funny. If idiots like this can figure out life, you can, too.

Maybe some or all of these actors (and writers and directors) were disappointed that their career highlights came in popular B-movies beloved of eight year olds. I hope not. We can feast on profundity and tragedy, but this kind of comedy is sustenance.