46. BUtterfield 8 (1960)

Directed by Daniel Mann
Written by Charles Schnee and John Michael Hayes
Starring Elizabeth Taylor, Laurence Harvey, and Eddie Fisher

Now that fall weather has finally come, the teens of Pennsport roam the neighborhood in groups of two and three. They smiled and talked as I jogged by, their bright eyes not yet dimmed by rebellion and irony. I had my first cigarette at thirteen, my first joint and hangover at fifteen. When will these kids first break the rules? Or have they already gotten into trouble? I know it’s problematic to assume a teleology of defiance; not every child is as bad as I was. Gloria is only bad because patriarchal norms say she is. I seriously can’t believe all these stories crediting Hugh Hefner with women’s sexual liberation. Skeet shooting is a marvelous opportunity to discuss conjugal strife with your semi-estranged wife. Taking your mistress to see your hometown is a nice enough gesture, I guess. At a diner with Liggett, Gloria asks for a refill of French fries. We should all be so bold. I’ve never brushed my teeth with liquor, but I’ve totally dug through ashtrays for half-smoked cigarettes. You get some strange looks when you do it at an artists’ colony and are also thirty. But I was too drunk to care. Steve might actually be a legit nice guy, not the aggrieved, why-won’t-she-fuck-me type. What was Liggett hoping to accomplish during that car chase with Gloria? Lying to your mother about your disreputable behavior is nothing new to me. When I was eighteen, my mom figured out that I would tell her anything at one in the morning, standing by the kitchen sink. Mostly I fretted about all the ways I had sabotaged my life, that I was a bad person and a failure. Things are better sixteen years later, though my current level of goodness isn’t really for me to decide. At least I’m sober now.