Jesus, Mary and Joseph! I have never seen this until last night. What a fucking thing of beauty. I am nonplussed at the zen-like direction, and zeitgeisty anecdotal side occurrences that round out Kowalski's flashback laden journey from Denver to San Francisco. Nonplussed because it was unknown to me. I would have never watched it, probably, until Tony Franciosa made me a believer that TV detective/lawyer studs could actually ACT, via his performance in Across 110th Street. Y'see, Barry Newman in my mind was a real turnoff - I mean, Petrocelli- really. But he's able to capture the vibe one might get from an individual who has been betrayed by every institution he's ever embraced with any degree of loyalty. The camerawork takes the time to build atmosphere, and it's nihilistic antimotivator of a plot supports that need for atmosphere. A story told in sentence fragments. Antihero. Leaving only footprints. Yipe.
1 comment:
I love this movie so much. It's one I had seen countless times over the years, but I only recently actually bought me a copy of it.
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