You May Now Kiss the Potato

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Is it June already? Soulless corporations of all shapes, sizes and sectors were in the marrying mood this week, from that very French, mistress-included arrangement between AOL, Netscape, and Sun Microsystems, to Exxon and Mobil, to Dennis Rodman and Carmen Electra (yes, they count as corporations). Since they canít all be made in heaven, here are three classic films in which the honeymoon was a rude awakening.

Suspicion (1941). Cary Grant is the upper crustís most eligible gold-digger Ė and maybe a murderer to boot. The Hitchcock classic throws Joan Fontaine into Caryís arms and watches the love turn to fear. If you donít like the ending, blame the studios for being overly protective of Grantís image.

Rebecca (1940). Another Hitchcock, with Fontaine again as the innocent. Lawrence Olivier marries a live beauty but longs for a dead one. A superb romantic haunter from the author of The Birds.

The Heiress (1949). A once-bitten, twice-shy Olivia De Havilland as the target of Montgomery Cliftís advances -- couldnít she tell from the mustache? William Wyler got a great turn from De Havilland and strikes a poignant blow for spinsters everywhere.

And as you settle in for a weekend of en memoriam turkey sandwiches, go ironic with Eraserhead (1976). Arm-stabbing, elevator humor and the best hair in independent cinema, all birthed, fully formed in black-and-white, from David Lynchís devilish little brain. Some scenes inappropriate for young carnivores.