Look I probably should have told you this before but you see…
well…
insanity runs in my family…
By Benjamin Groff II GroffMedia© | benandsteve.com | ©2026
October 16, 2026
With a cast on my leg, I have been glued to my chair. Naturally, that has left me glued to the television while also glued to the screen of my Apple MacBook Pro, swiping through my iPhone, and tapping my Apple Watch to see what it has to tell me.
Usually, it tells me something the other two devices have already announced.
I have an entire electronic staff keeping me informed, and apparently none of them communicate well enough to realize the position has already been filled.
My watch reminds me to stand. My leg reminds me that we need to discuss that first.
Somewhere between notifications, I remember to change the television channel, arrange a trip to the bathroom, and remind Steve that dinner will eventually be necessary. He may prepare it or call it in. His choice. I am trying to be an agreeable patient.
You would have to ask him how that is going.
Meanwhile, Otis, our Jack Russell Terror—excuse me, Terrier—is tearing through the house with enough energy to power all these devices. Doppler radar would struggle to track him. By the time it registered his location, he would have completed another lap and accused somebody of sitting in his chair.
If you know, you know.
One unexpected benefit of this enforced sitting has been a fresh look at movies I have watched many times before.
During some of those earlier viewings, I rolled my eyes. I knew the dialogue, the entrances, the misunderstandings, and what was coming next. Quite often, I was watching alongside a sick relative during the final stretch of their life. Those familiar movies seemed to offer comfort, and we let them play.
At the time, I thought I was simply keeping somebody company.
Looking back, there was more to it. A familiar voice on the television. A story that asked very little of us. The quiet reassurance of another person sitting nearby.
Now Steve is beside me while I recover, and there is something familiar about that arrangement. Thankfully, I expect to get out of this chair eventually. Steve probably expects that even more enthusiastically.
For now, I have a cast on my leg and have developed a renewed appreciation for the cast on the screen.
Today’s selection was Arsenic and Old Lace, with Cary Grant, whom I have long admired. He was quite a catch then. As far as I am concerned, he would be quite a catch today.
Grant plays Mortimer Brewster, a drama critic whose outspoken objections to marriage have become somewhat inconvenient: he has just married Elaine, played by Priscilla Lane.
That should be enough excitement for one afternoon. Unfortunately, he has relatives.
His aunts, Abby and Martha, played by Josephine Hull and Jean Adair, are sweet, gracious, and devoted to making lonely gentlemen comfortable.
A little too permanently comfortable.
Their hospitality involves elderberry wine with ingredients you would not want included in the family cookbook.
Then there is Mortimer’s brother Teddy, played by John Alexander, who believes he is Theodore Roosevelt. Most families have somebody who dominates a gathering. The Brewsters have somebody prepared to lead a charge through it.
And just when Mortimer’s afternoon seems sufficiently complicated, his brother Jonathan arrives, played by Raymond Massey, accompanied by Peter Lorre as Dr. Einstein.
Jonathan is the sort of relative whose arrival makes you wish you had left for your honeymoon several hours earlier.
The whole thing is wonderfully frantic and ghoulishly delightful, especially this time of year. Cary Grant spends much of it trying to bring reason into a household where reason apparently moved out years ago.
Watching it again, I found myself enjoying the expressions, the timing, and the sheer absurdity of it all. Knowing what happens next gives you time to notice how beautifully they get you there.
Perhaps that is part of the pleasure of returning to an old movie. We bring a different day, a different mood, and a few more years of living to the same familiar story.
This time, I brought a cast, several opinionated Apple devices, a husband on dinner duty, and a dog traveling at the speed of poor judgment.
The Brewster household suddenly seemed almost manageable.
So pour yourself another cup, folks. There is still plenty of enjoyment to be found in an old picture and the company beside you.
But if somebody offers you homemade elderberry wine, you might ask to see the recipe.
I’ll stick with coffee.
The taglines as posted from reviews in newspapers in the 1940s read:
- She Passed Out On Cary ! No Wonder . . . She’s just discovered his favorite aunts have poisoned their 13th gentleman friend !
- I’ll knock your block off, you big stiff! You’re a bum!
- Strike. You’re out!
- WARNER SHOW OF THE YEAR! BEATS THE STAGE PLAY BY 500 LAUGHS AND 5000 SHIVERS! (Print Ad- New York Sun, ((New York, NY)) 31 August 1944)
- HERE IS A LAFF RIOT IF EVER THERE WAS ONE (Print Ad- Philadelphia Inquirer, ((Philadelphia, Penna.)) 28 January 1945)
- YOU Don’t SCREAM You Just ROAR! (Print Ad- Evening Recorder, ((Amsterdam, NY)) 1 December 1944)
- Something Screwy IS GOING ON! Cary and Priscilla are aghast when Aunts Abby and Martha prepare to slip arsenic into the wine of their 13th victim! (Print Ad-Warsaw Daily Union, ((Warsaw, Ind.)) 24 February 1945)
Now if reviews on my own content would just measure up!
