DVD-ul atasat Gazetei contine meciul integral din finala de la Sevilla 1986, disputata intre Steaua si Barcelona, cele doua reprize de prelungiri si loviturile de la 11 metri, dar si festivitatea de premiere, in comentariul original al lui Teoharie Coca Cosma.

This absolutely charming, wholly engaging romantic comedy is the hidden gem of the four collaborations of Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant. Most everyone's seen The Philadelphia Story, but few know of this unorthodox, hilarious comedy of life among the rich and privileged, though both were Broadway hits by playwright Philip Barry. Grant plays the happy-go-lucky Johnny Case, a self-made man with a dream in his heart of making just enough money to retire on and then traveling around the world. Johnny proposes to the lovely Julia (Doris Nolan) in Lake Placid, but it isn't until he comes to pay her a visit in New York that he discovers she's the daughter of a wealthy industrialist. Although his nonconformity ruffles the feathers of Julia's stuffy father, he's soon won over the whole family–most notably, Julia's rebellious sister Linda (Hepburn), who in becoming Johnny's greatest advocate finds herself irresistibly drawn to him. There's more going on here than a spiffy, surface romance, with Johnny's free-spirit determination going up against rock-hard establishment values, and director George Cukor plays up the social politics of the story just as well as the wonderful, exquisite romance. Hepburn and Grant, as always, are perfectly paired, and given able support by Lew Ayres as the black sheep of Hepburn's family, and Edward Everett Horton and Jean Dixon as Grant's longtime pals. Filmed previously in 1930; Hepburn understudied the role of Linda on Broadway and used a scene from the play in her first screen test.

Don Hewes (Fred Astaire) is devastated when his longtime dancing partner, Nadine Hale (Ann Miller), breaks up the team to set out on her own. Determined to prove that he can succeed without her, Astaire vows that he can pick any random chorus girl and make her a star. Fortunately for him, the chorus girl he picks happens to be one of the greatest entertainers of the 20th century, Judy Garland (playing Hannah Brown). Easter Parade turned out to be the first and only collaboration between the two screen legends. Garland made the 1948 film despite ongoing health problems then had to pull out of a planned follow-up, The Barkleys of Broadway (Ginger Rogers replaced her); Astaire had retired following Blue Skies in 1946 but was brought in for this film as an emergency replacement after Gene Kelly broke his ankle playing touch football. Fortunately, Easter Parade always feels like an Astaire film rather than a Kelly film, from its Pygmalion-esque plot (which helps explain the principals' 23-year age disparity) to its score of Irving Berlin standards (some new, some recycled from earlier films). The film capitalizes on the strengths of both stars, Astaire in dance solos, including "Drum Crazy" and "Steppin' Out with My Baby" (MGM's take on Astaire's earlier, persona-defining "Top Hat, White Tie, and Tails"), and Garland in vocal solos, including the torchy "Better Luck Next Time." The stars especially shine, however, when they perform together in their vaudeville numbers, most notably the persona-defying hobo routine "We're a Couple of Swells." Watch this classic every Easter.

Although it was never known for strict authenticity, the elegant 1953 production of Titanic holds just as much fascination as A Night to Remember and James Cameron's 1997 blockbuster. Its original screenplay deservedly won an Oscar® for its brilliant, dramatically involving creation of fictional characters–primarily a strained couple on the verge of divorce (Clifton Webb, Barbara Stanwyck)–whose lives are forever altered on that fateful morning of April 15, 1912. Director Jean Negulesco focuses on this human drama, lending a personal touch to the luxury liner's fatal collision with an iceberg; if the scale-model disaster (complete with motorized miniature lifeboat rowers) looks quaint by modern special-effects standards, it still captures the emotional impact of Titanic's ultimate fate. While Titanic's sinking is inaccurately depicted (here the ship is damaged on the port side, and sinks in one piece), the Webb/Stanwyck relationship is handled with sophistication, style, and well-earned redemption. As would happen with Cameron's Titanic 44 years later, fiction proved a perfect vehicle for tragic factual history.

"The love impulse in man," says a psychiatrist in Bringing Up Baby, "frequently reveals itself in terms of conflict." That's for sure. For a primer on the rules and regulations of the classic screwball comedy, which throws love and conflict into close proximity, look no further. A straight-laced paleontologist (Cary Grant) loses a dinosaur bone to a dog belonging to free-spirited heiress Katharine Hepburn. In trying to retrieve said bone, Grant is drawn into the vortex surrounding the delicious Hepburn, which becomes a flirtatious pas de deux that will transform both of them. Director Howard Hawks plays the complications as a breathless escalation of their "love impulse," yet the movie is nonetheless romantic for all its speed. (Hawks's His Girl Friday, also with Grant, goes even faster.) Grant and Hepburn are a match made in movie heaven, in sync with each other throughout. Not a great box-office success when first released, Bringing Up Baby has since taken its place as a high-water mark of the screwball form, and it was used as a model for Peter Bogdanovich's What's Up, Doc?

ALICE ADAMS is the film I'd heard about for years as one of Hepburn's best early films so when I had the chance to watch it recently on TCM I took advantage of it.
From a novel by Booth Tarkington, it concerns a young woman anxious to connect socially with the right people who manages to attract the attention of a handsome and well-to-do young man (Fred MacMurray) at a party. Hepburn shines in the title role, looking fresh and attractive, struggling to keep him interested in her–but unfortunately, with all of her trademark mannerisms not always held in check.