This one goes out to all the ladies in the house.
If you want to watch a brilliantly crafted film that makes you feel crazy-empowered deep down into your gritty New-York-City soul . . . then Gloria is your dame.
Above: Rowlands as Gloria, the ultimate Manhattan heroine, popping caps in her lavender satin suit, and running away from the bad guys with her antique tapestry satchel. Below: Gloria's amazing water-colored opening-credits, designed by Sam Shaw.
Cinematic dream-doll, Gena Rowlands, plays Gloria, a tough-as-nails ex-Mafia mistress, thrown into the initially un-wanted role of bodyguard to a six-year old Puerto Rican boy with hit-men on his tail (p.s., Little "Phil" is one of the slickest, grooviest kids ever to grace celluloid). So, when Gloria's fierce maternal love-vibes kick-in, you're in for one of the coolest, most bad-ass female actions films ever, starring a Film Noir-esque lioness, protecting her velvet bell-bottomed baby cub.
Above: Two epic things . . . first, Rowland's character wearing men's pajamas and a trench-coat to do errands around Harlem (why did I never try that?), and second, Gloria's gigantic walk-in closet-room, as big as a small dry-cleaners, and filled with hundreds of disco dresses in garment bags (talk about New York City dreams!).
Directed in 1980, by her husband, John Cassavetes, Rowlands is totally luminous . . . all Lauren Bacall curls and menthol smoke, suited in a chic wardrobe courtesy of Emmanuel Ungaro. It's a film guaranteed to make you wish Manhattan was still accessorized in graffiti, and that your nicest Carlos Falchi purse contained a loaded pistol.
Above: How much do you love her crimson kimono/leather shoulder bag combo? Also, the round honeymoon-style bed and Oriental rug tapestry = bitchin. Below: Don't mess with a woman (in a silk wrap-dress) scorned.