Manual Benny Roone Detects

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The elements, shattered, re-form. Was make-up tried, and discarded? Did Pacino balk at shaving his head? Streep has been a conundrum since I first saw her in , in a small role in Julia. But often, the technique itself has carried the day, at least for me. Who can forget her, collapsed on the kitchen floor, her back to the oven, devastated by grief and trying desperately not to let her capacious heart overflow with it?

A new face in the royal palace

In Angels , Streep gets to show off her versatility and her facility for accents as a sly nonagenarian Rabbi, a wry Ethel Rosenberg and a complacent, angry Salt Lake City haufrau. Everything Streep does as Hannah feels right, spontaneous. This, too, is beyond acting.


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Hurt, angry, buoyant, defiantly nellie, incalculably brave, Kirk personifies every young gay man in America who woke one day in the s to find himself condemned, betrayed, marginalized, but, through his wit and fervor for life, never wholly defeated. Without recourse to keeping the plays open on my lap as I watched, and bearing in mind their sheer volubility and expanse, I cannot be sure precisely how close the HBO-produced movie is to the original plays. But it seems to me a textbook case of getting the transition correctly. Nichols is a variable movie talent, as apt to go crushingly wrong as he is to go triumphantly right.

Michael Redgrave as Uncle Vanya. Interestingly, while both Sonia and Dr. Astrov confess the latter frequently to having no hope, Vanya never does. Usually excellent, here she either settles for, as was directed by Olivier to embrace, melodramatic poses and airy line-readings, her eyes perpetually raised to some middle-distance beyond mere human ken, all of which make her both more ethereal than necessary and less condignly corporeal than required. Was he possibly, and in common with his protean contemporary Ralph Richardson, not conventionally handsome enough? The movies and other video items I watched or, in rare cases, went out to see during the year just passed.

BOLD : Denotes very good… or at least, better-than-average. Some people I know disliked the central premise. Craig also comes closest to resembling the Hoagy Carmichael Fleming prototype. On its own terms, the picture seemed to me exciting, thematically dark in a way that appeals to me, and stylishly and occasionally, beautifully made.

Close Encounters of the Third Kind.

Editorials

The Ghost and Mr. Some Like it Hot.

My favorite movie. I always see something new in it.

Full text of "The Duluth Herald"

New non-documentary movies viewed on a big theatre screen: None. From which you may draw your own conclusions. Revisited with pleasure F for Fake. Go on singing. What a difference 35 years of media consolidation and deepening personal taste can make! Those of us who cared about such things knew too many papers, magazines and broadcast stations were in the hands of too few usually conservative people.

But we had no idea then that, 15 years later, a Democrat would, with his Telecommunications Act, usher out the flawed but vitally important American free press and replace it, eventually, with a completely corporate, wholly right-wing, one. For this reason alone, the picture has interest.

Truth and Rumors: The Reality Behind TV's Most Famous Myths (The Praeger Television Collection)

Which is to say, barely at all. Black Sunday. Wag the Dog. The List of Adrian Messenger.

**WARNING**

The Third Man. Carol Reed directed it.


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Anton Karras performed the soon-to-be ubiquitous music. And Orson Welles had what was arguably his best role in a movie not also written by him. Hot Millions. I always think about that when I see the picture. Cotton Comes to Harlem. Mary Poppins. I know this because the movie was released in late August, and my sister and I were taken to it at a drive-in. I finally got to see it again when it was reissued in I liked it then, but love it now in a way few 12 year-olds, even movie-mad pubescents as I was becoming then, ever could.

The Great Race. Seeing this on television, even on a black-and-white set, in pan-and-scan format, interrupted by commercials and spread out over two consecutive Sunday evenings, delighted me and made me an instant Jack Lemmon freak.

The new BluRay edition is stunningly executed. French Connection II. The Front Page. Robin Hood.

Truth and Rumors: The Reality Behind TV's Most Famous Myths (The Praeger Television Collection)

Disney, I loved this when it opened. But then, at 12 I was much less critical. Death on the Nile. For a year old nascent gay-boy, seeing both Maggie Smith and Angela Lansbury on the big screen was close to Nirvana. The Seven-Ups. Two Mules for Sister Sarah. Shirley MacLaine and Clinton Eastwood would seem to be as mis-matched in life as their characters are here, but they make an awfully good team. Features superb photography by the redoubtable Gabriel Figueroa and a pleasing Morricone score.

The Jungle Book Disney, I was the perfect age when this one was released to embrace a new Disney animated feature — I had previously seen both Snow White and Cinderella in re-issue — and I went duly gaga over it. My poor parents. The Aristocats. Not to be confused with The Aristocrats …. The Cheyenne Social Club. Fraker and the effective score by Krzysztof Komeda dead, sadly, within months of its release, this depriving us of a distinctive new compositional voice in movies , combined with the performances by its largely elderly cast and a notably plangent one by the often-insufferable Mia Farrow, make this exercise in stylish, low-key horror among the finest in the genre.

A wasted opportunity.