Agreed
1 Like
Had to rewatch The Long Goodbye and Capricorn One now because Elliott Gould was so good in M.A.S.H.
3 Likes
I bought Capricorn One a few years ago, it was not since the eighties that I watched it on Dutch television, but it was still great again. There is a great scene with Gould driving his car and realising that someone has disassembled the brakes.
3 Likes
I’ve never seen that and have always wanted to. Annnnd now I see it’s free in full on YouTube.
4 Likes
The Odessa File. Much, much better than I remember it. Haven’t read the book so unsure how faithful it is, but in and of itself, most diverting.
5 Likes
Good to see love for Ronald Neame.
2 Likes
IIRC, it’s rather close to the novel, but it’s been ages since I last saw it. Maybe I should give it another try, as I didn’t like it very much. I found Jon Voight as miscast as Brosnan in The Odessa File, and also, I’ve never been Voight’s biggest fan…
On the other hand, apart from the original Jackal, I didn’t like any movie made from one of Forsyth’s books. Could have to do with the fact that Jackal is the only one of which I first saw the movie and then read the book. But it got me into reading more Forsyth novels, and I enjoyed them very much back in the day.
Unfortunately, I felt the need to separate my views on his work from my views on the man himself… 
4 Likes
Zinnemann helps.
5 Likes
Definitely 
2 Likes
Forsyth sadly is no interior decorator of his characters. But many of the themes of his stories have proven quite relevant and often ahead of their time.
That said, I rarely found his books really at the top of their respective themes. Clancy was working similar ground - but more detailed and with an authentic feel even in the more outlandish books. Le Carré and Deighton deliver interesting, relatable characters Forsyth often lacks. A theme like the Nazi rat lines was more engrossingly handled in some of Kerr’s Bernie Gunther books. And The Wild Geese is the superior mercenary novel to The Dogs of War.
Also, though I usually enjoyed Forsyth’s books, I found his habit to pack in a twist at the end a bit too predictable over the years. And I very rarely reread a Forsyth, though that need not be a bad thing.
3 Likes
Has anybody seen the 1972 Robert Mulligan film „The Other“?
I always wanted to see it, after having read about it being one of those forgotten great early 70‘s horror films, and the Jerry Goldsmith score is so wonderful.
4 Likes
I literally watched it for the first time ever on Monday of this week! It’s solid and genuinely creepy. It goes some places that even as it’s happening you’re questioning if it really will be a fake-out and pull its punch or not (it doesn’t). Really solid old school slow burner horror with a very early 70s film atmosphere. Its budget is much bigger but the general tone and slowly building dread reminded me of “Let’s Scare Jessica to Death,” another highly effective early 70s exercise in slow dread.
3 Likes
I bought the blu-ray now!
2 Likes
Please share your thoughts on the other side of watching it.
2 Likes
I watched Turks & Caicos today. It’s the follow-up to Page Eight. I would describe it as very slow boil (if it even reaches a boil) thriller. The movie is very mysterious and it takes a while to figure what is actually happening in terms of the plot but I thought it worked. Once again a great cast. Looking forward to seeing the third one ( Salting the Battlefield).
2 Likes
The Johnny Worricker Trilogy? I enjoyed it very much. It’s been years since I watched it and it’s not available to stream in my area now, but I do remember that it was good enough to watch repeatedly.
3 Likes
I happened upon Page Eight last year on Netflix. I kept seeing auto-trailer clip play a bunch of times as I scrolled through and finally decided to watch it. So glad I did. I was keen to watch the sequel but it was not available on any of my streaming services. Happily my public library had it but had to wait months for my turn after putting a hold. I think I should get the next one within the month. Love the library.
3 Likes
SINNERS (2025) in theater
Our recent discussion about theater etiquette was top-of-mind as I settled into my seat on the Upper West Side to watch Ryan Coogler’s SINNERS. The audience ranged from teenagers to older folks on a Sunday afternoon. I wondered/feared what was about to occur.
Was there noise? Yes. Talking? Yes. But it emerged from intense engagement with the film–that sweet involvement where viewers are apprehensive for what is about to happen to characters, and both frightened and delighted.
SINNERS is an old-fashioned, up-to-the-minute Hollywood film that merges/crosses/combines genres and styles with such abandon and command that a viewer is swept along a narrative that never loses its grip (or should I say its bite). Coogler has learned from Coppola how to open an epic film slowly–he introduces the audience to Clarksville, Mississippi (birthplace of the blues) on October 15, 1932 in careful/loving detail. By the time the Smokestack Brothers’ juke joint opens that evening, we are on intimate terms with the characters, rare for any movie, but almost non-existent in contemporary Hollywood films.
My South Carolina spouse loved how the film got the details of Southern life correct. The actors’ accents were spot-on, and, more importantly, they conveyed Black Southerness in their movements and looks. I could write a post five times as long as this one about the mythic/symbolic/metaphoric/sociological levels explored in the film, but you can discover those pleasures for yourself.
I will comment on just one extraordinary sequence where Preacher Boy Sammie plays and sings in the juke joint as Coogler unleashes the Steadicam shot of Steadicam shots. The camera circles and explores the juke joint as this blues song (written for the film) inspires everyone to dance, and in a moment of cinematic transport, Coogler shows us the musical past, present, and futures of all his revellers.
For this scene alone, I urge everyone to get to the largest/loudest screen that they can find. See SINNERS in IMAX or 70mm or plain old DCP, but see it with people, and be reminded of the heights cinema can scale when artistry of the highest order is on offer.
8 Likes
REVENGE OF THE SITH (2005) – in theatre
As you all know (probably much too well), I love Robin Wood’s concept of the incoherent text. Great films are sometimes the product of an artist having too much material, too many ideas/concepts, and too many aesthetic approaches, which overwhelm, in a good way, their effort at coherence.
To this concept, I want to add a sub-category–the “incoherent text struggling toward coherence,” of which ROTS is a stellar example. When I saw the film 20 years ago, it seemed the best of the Star Wars movies, and a vast improvement over the two previous entries in the prequel trilogy. My engagement since then has been minimal, but the movie retained a place in my mind as Lucas at his best.
ROTS starts in media res, with Anakin and Obi-Wan engaging in the Flash Gordon/Buck Rogers derring-do so beloved by Lucas. So far, so good, and so same. But then something strange/wonderful begins to happen. The story of Anakin’s shift to the dark side–the story Lucas has been wanting to tell–begins to emerge. The opening derring-do ends with Anakin decapitating Sith Lord Dooku (which is what a Jedi apprentice is supposed to do). But it is Palpatine’s egging on of Anakin (and Ian McDiarmid’s sly performance) that nods at where ROTS is headed toward–in fact, has to head toward, if the saga is to make sense. That Anakin becomes Darth Vader is the biggest non-spoiler in the history of cinema.
Now Lucas’ second narrative–about the journey to the dark side–kicks into gear. Flash and Buck are great heroes, but do they stand a chance against the lure of the dark side? In ROTS, the answer is a resounding no. Mace Windu, the film’s Flash/Buck stand-in is defeated by the Anakin/Palpatine pairing. Obi-Wan seems to deliver a definitive defeat to Anakin, but he forgoes a coup de grace (un-Jedi like?), allowing Anakin to be reborn/reconstituted as Darth Vader.
The film then carries on to its end, and I recognized this viewing that after the discussion at the conference table, the movie draws silently/gracefully to its conclusion. I was dazzled again by Lucas’ mise en scene and patterning (at heart, I think he is an experimental filmmaker), and still emotionally involved in Anakin’s fall. This time Anakin seemed more than ever the cause of Padme’s death–the vision he so feared coming about is almost totally the result of his actions and ignorance (my Buddhist side notes that Buddhism’s three poisons are greed, anger, and ignorance).
Viewers know how everything turns out (and bloats as IP marches on like a clone army). But for 140 minutes, there is beauty mixed with social insight, combined with old-fashioned razzle-dazzle that still thrills after all these years.
4 Likes
Marvelous review!
These are my favourite moments from the film:
3 Likes