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This morning, a ranting man on the downtown D train (“Does she think I’m crazy? I’m not taking any shit from that bitch!”) confirmed it: the 4th of July weekend had ended, as the madness and crowds returned to infuse Manhattan with its usual, challenging, atmosphere. But while it lasted, oh…
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Back from Greece and jet-lagged to beat the band. First stop was Santorini where J and I attended a wedding for our pals Nia and Mark. The island is a poem of sky and sea and volcanic mountains, and the perfect setting for the union of two beautiful people (and one of my oldest friends—Nia…
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“There’s Sydney Pollack—and there’s everybody else.” That thought came over me last April when I found myself sitting next to him at the Housing Works Used Books Café; we and a few others had been asked to read some selected work from the winners of the PEN Prison Writing program that night, and I remember…
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Law was a not-bad actor who, because of his drop-dead looks, probably didn’t get his true due. Though Barbarella etched him in the public’s consciousness, I remember him in Hurry Sundown, The Love Machine, The Sergeant (as the object of lust-repressed Rod Steiger’s affection) and, incredibly, Danger: Diabolik (as a heist-meister whose high-tech lair made…
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RIP Hazel Court, 1926-2008 (photo from The Masque of the Red Death)
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What a character—whenever he walked onto the screen, you could feel the temperature change. Loved that voice and those startled eyes, adept at conveying humor, panic or menace. Goodbye blonde tough guy, give ‘em hell in heaven…
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Or so I felt growing up. Ivan Dixon (1931-2008) was ever-present in the 60s and 70s, especially on television where his cool-as-a-cucumber bemusement enlivened a million guest spots. I believe the only reason my father watched Hogan’s Heroes was to catch a glimpse of Dixon so’s he could smile back at the television with pride. …
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You’ve gone too soon. For transporting me and making me laugh, for breaking my heart at the movies, thanks… Photo: Rankin
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His portrayal of the pimp Frank Ligourin in Klute was the first time I ever laid eyes on Roy Scheider, and even at a young, impressionable age I got why Jane Fonda’s Bree Daniels found it tough to leave him–and the life–behind. In the matter of Roy, you couldn’t look away–not in Klute or Jaws,…
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Omnipresent, imperturbable Is the life that death springs from Seamus Heaney
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