The Great Gatsby is days away from public unveiling, but there's such a media storm around it I feel like I've already seen it. So I'm turning my attention to the anti-Gatsby. Which turns out also to have been written by F. Scott Fitzgerald.
When the director of Jaws, Close Encounters of the Third Kind and Raiders decided what to create next, he focused instead on a modestly budgeted film about a boy who befriends an alien. The result was the biggest hit of his career.
The late Deborah Kerr was the kind of star and personality we rarely see anymore: a lady first and foremost, who, even playing women of dubious virtue, projected an innate sense of class, dignity, even nobility.
There are plenty of films out there that make us hopeful about life and living. Film noir is a guilty pleasure where we witness the denizens of society's bottom rungs stamping on each other's feet for a higher, safer position.
Let Robert Mitchum tell you the story of left hand/right hand (or why he's got LOVE and HATE tattooed on his fingers) playing a mad preacher in Charles Laughton's creepy and terrifying Southern gothic classic.