Movie Review: "American Sniper"

"American Sniper": B.  American Sniper was released in a few cities before year's end to qualify for Oscar consideration, and then had its nationwide release this month.  It has set the record for the largest grossing movie ever generally released in the month of January.  As of last count, the number was over $205 million.  It's apparent that eighty-four year old director Clint Eastwood has pushed the right buttons with the viewing public for this, the thirty-ninth film he has directed.

It didn't hurt any that Chris Kyle's book, also titled American Sniper, became a best seller immediately upon its release in early 2012.  Then former Minnesota Governor Jesse "The Body" Ventura gave it lots of free pub when he sued Kyle and his widow (technically, his estate), Taya, for defamation of character.  As one of the local scribes pointed out, if there was one public figure who you'd think would have a hard time convincing a jury that he was defamed, it would be The Body.  Nevertheless, the jury surprised us by voting for the plaintiff.

Notwithstanding the jury's verdict (which, by the way, is being appealed), the film is anything but a comedy; it is dead serious, no pun intended.  Bradley Cooper plays Kyle, a Navy Seal who was credited with 166 combat kills as a sniper in Iraq.  That makes him the "most lethal sniper in US military history," to borrow the subtitle of Kyle's memoirs.  Cooper put on forty pounds of muscle for the part, and the result is a very strong (again, no pun intended) likeness to the real life hero.  Sienna Miller is cast as Taya, a woman who transitions from a smart-alecky independent to a frustrated mother whose husband leaves her, and later their son, for four separate deployments to war zones on the other side of the globe.

Eastwood lays the groundwork for Kyle's marksmanship with flashbacks to his upbringing with his brother in a West Texas home headed by a no-nonsense father who teaches his sons how to hunt.  Except for those few flashbacks, the story goes back and forth between Kyle the Seal and Kyle the husband.  The former succeeds to a greater extent than the latter.

As a sniper, Kyle's main responsibilities are to scope out a combat zone from a rooftop perch with a broad overview, and to shoot anyone posing an imminent threat to his fellow soldiers below.  The job calls for split second decisions, as the modern enemy is not wearing a uniform; he (or she) often looks like an ordinary citizen.  Sometimes the human being in his scope is a child.  If the sniper makes a wrong decision by firing, possible murder charges and a court martial loom.  If he opts not to shoot, that once-intended target may end up killing dozens of Americans with artillery, a rocket, a grenade or a bomb.  There are many battles throughout, and they are expertly choreographed by Eastwood.

I wasn't that sold on the love story half of the movie.  Some acting pairs are obviously more successful than others in making us believe there is real chemistry.  I did not feel it between Cooper and Miller.  One reason could be attributable to the scene in which we're introduced to Taya.  She is drinking by herself, belly up to the bar, in a tavern patronized mostly by military guys.  Then she is offended when one of them hits on her.  What did she expect, an invitation to a bible study group?  Kyle draws up next to her moments later.  Run, Chris, run!  But no, he tries to leave but she beckons him back.

I would like to know how many of the things we see in the battle scenes were real, and how many were Eastwood fabrications.  For example, in the heat of combat, with bullets whizzing by and chaos all around, Kyle holds cell phone conversations with his wife back in Texas.  Really?  Do we permit our snipers to phone home while they are discharging their weapons.  It seems to me they should be just a little more focused on their military duty to provide cover for their comrades. In one scene, Kyle leaves his post as a sniper and decides to join the Marines in a high risk house-to-house search.  I can't believe our armed forces are so loosey goosey that such an occurrence would be permitted.  Not only that, I can't believe the Marines would consent to Kyle joining them.

And how about the final battle in Sadr City?  Two very unlikely things unfold.  First, the Americans drive several noisy vehicles to the building they have selected in the heart of the Taliban stronghold.  They stake their positions where they are under orders to hold their fire.  But Kyle, on the rooftop as usual, has a clear shot at the Taliban's leader, hiding on another rooftop a mile away.  Kyle ignores the order, firing a single shot at the enemy, the result of which is an awakening of all the bad guys within a four block radius.  So, they couldn't hear all those US trucks, but a single gunshot, from rooftop to rooftop, brings them out. That's what I would call "selective hearing."

The second Sadr City event, if accurately reflecting reality, casts doubt on the wisdom of our military brass.  Even though the senior officers knew exactly where Kyle and his group were going to be, the emergency backup helicopters were stationed twenty minutes away.  Twenty minutes!  Whoever decided that arrangement should face a military tribunal.

Should the U.S. have invaded Iraq?  What are the people like whom we were trying to save?  Was life during the reign of Saddam worse for them than it is now?  Is the positioning of snipers morally acceptable?  In addition to our combat troops killed and seriously injured physically, what is the cost for the soldiers (and their families) suffering post-traumatic psychological damage?  Not all these questions can be answered in a single film.  But with American troops having just finished their combat mission in the middle east, American Sniper is a good conversation starter as we revisit those issues.

Get A T.O., Baby!

We are now down to the season's final football game, the Cheaters' Bowl, aka Super Bowl.  That February 1 duel will be between the Patriots' head coach, Bill Belichick, who got caught cheating more than once in the NFL (plus new allegations regarding ball deflation last Sunday), versus the Seahawks' head coach, Pete Carroll, whose program at Southern Cal got caught cheating by the NCAA, which levied stiff penalties against the Trojans, causing Carroll to get out of Dodge before the posse arrived.

The wait between football season and baseball spring training is about four weeks.  I like hockey, but not enough to watch it on the tube.  It must be about time to write about basketball.

This post contains my observations about one of the key elements of the game, viz., time outs.  To be clear, I'm not referring to media time outs, but rather time outs charged to a team.  Since I follow college hoops more than any other level, this post mostly pertains to that game, although you are invited to extrapolate what I've written into the pro or high school game.  I have collected my thoughts into five tidbits.

1. The Initial Time Out.  One of the sublime satisfactions of coaching, playing or cheering for a team occurs when the opponent is forced to call the first time out of the game.  Of particular joy in a televised game is when the opposing coach feels the need to call that initial T.O. before the first media time out (which is scheduled to occur after the first whistle following the 16-minute mark).  "The wheels are coming off the wagon.  Help!"

When a coach uses that very early time out, it's tantamount to him admitting to his team that they're either not prepared (read: getting out-coached) or that they are not executing the game plan.  Waiting for the media time out may be too late to salvage things.  They need to huddle up NOW!

The coach most famous for espousing the theory of "forcing" the opponent to call an early time out was The Wizard Of Westwood, John Wooden of UCLA, commonly regarded as the greatest college coach of all time.  He almost never called the first time out of the game.  One of the rare times he did was against Notre Dame on January 19, 1974, when the Irish snapped the Bruins' record-setting eighty-eight game winning streak.  Irish Coach Digger Phelps told his team during that noteworthy T.O. that they were going to win the game; the great Wizard had caved.  The documentary Eight-eight And One includes recollections about that game by some of Wooden's players, like All American center Bill Walton.  According to Walton, when Wooden called time, his own players couldn't believe he'd done so, it was such a rarity.

Incidentally, in last Saturday's Gopher-Rutgers game, Rutgers head coach Eddie Jordan decided to call a time out at the 16:18 mark of the first half.  His team was off to a horrible start, trailing the Gophs 10 to 2.  He felt he couldn't wait for the fast-approaching media time out.  The fans in The Barn recognized the desperation, and cheered wildly.

2. The Second Time Out.   There is an old saying that you can't take time outs home with you.  In other words, if you have five time outs per game, you should use all of them, especially if you're losing, because you obviously can't carry them forward to your next game.  However, you can carry unused time outs from the first half into the second half.  Most coaches do not want to use more than one time out in the first half.  They want to go into the second half with four T.O.s in their pocket.  (The teams are already getting four media time outs per half, at the 16, 12, 8 and 4 minute marks.)  Using that second allotted charged time out before the half is usually a sign of weakness, desperation, unpreparedness, or a combination thereof.

Some coaches, both in hoops and in football, use the theory that they "only use the first half to get to the second half."  In other words, we are not looking for the blow out win right away.  We're not going to show all our cards in the first half.  Waiting until the second half to display new wrinkles makes it harder for the opponent to make adjustments.  Opponents' adjustments would then have to be made on the fly during the second half rather than having an entire half time (usually about twenty minutes) to do so.  All the more reason to save as many T.O.s as you can for the second half.

Only rarely are games won in the first half.  Coaches believe, "If we are at least close -- a deficit of less than double digits in basketball, or no more than a two-possession deficit in football -- there is no need to abandon the game plan." Using up a second charged time out in basketball during the first half would indicate an abandonment of the game plan.  No coach plans to burn two of his precious time outs in the first half.

3. The Final Time Out; End Game Strategy.  One of the great debates on basketball strategy is whether the coach should call a time out very near the end of the game, to go over with his players what he wants them to do in the final seconds.  I am in the camp of The General, Bobby Knight.  His ego, not to mention his skill as a coach, led him to this train of thought:  My team is better coached and better prepared than your team.  We have practiced end-game situations -- including with the lead, tie game and trailing scenarios -- countless times at every practice since Day One.  My kids know what to do without me calling time.  If I call a time out near the end of a tight game, that acts as something of an equalizer.  It gives you (the opposing coach) a chance to go over things with your team, a chance that my players don't need.  I have faith in my guys.

Of course, if you have a veteran (upperclassmen) team led by a savvy point guard, using Knight's approach is a lot easier to adopt.

In the January 6 game between the Gophers and Ohio State, the score was tied at 72 in overtime with 24.1 seconds to go.  Each team had one time out left.  The Buckeyes inbounded the ball at the far end.  OSU head coach Thad Motta chose not to use his time out, and was rewarded when forward Marc Loving  sank a nine foot jumper to put his team in the lead by two with 5.6 seconds to go.  Gopher coach Richard Pitino elected not to use his time out.  Instead, senior point guard DeAndre Mathieu came down the floor and proceeded to throw the ball away in the front court.  Game over.  A lot of the Minnesota faithful, and some media talking heads and scribes, took Pitino to task for not using a time out before the Gophers inbounded the ball.  I claim Pitino did the right thing, even though it did not work out.  Mathieu is a veteran point guard.  It's easier to attack a defense in transition instead of using a T.O., which would have given Motta time to scheme.  Them's the breaks.

In a bit of humorous irony, Dan Dakich, who was the ESPN television courtside analyst for the game, expressed great surprise that Pitino did not utilize a time out at the end.  What makes his comment ironic is that Dakich played four years for Knight at Indiana, and then was an assistant under Knight at IU for twelve seasons.  Apparently he and The General did not see eye-to-eye on end game strategy.

4. The Wasted Time Out.  How many times have we seen a player call a time out to avoid a turnover?  This happens often when the player with the ball is trapped, or is about to be tied up following a mad scramble with bodies strewn all over the hardwood.  My theory is this: Unless the situation occurs in a very close game with under five or six minutes to go in the second half, you are better off not using one of your precious T.O.s.  It's not the end of the world if your player gets tied up, especially outside of that five or six minute window.  Half of the time, your team is going to be able to retain possession of the ball anyway, because the possession arrow is in your favor.  If the arrow is going the other way, so be it.  I'd rather give up the ball that one time, play good D, and still have that T.O. to use later.  Any player who uses a time out to avoid a turnover in the first half should have to pick up towels in the locker room for a week.

5. Limiting End Game Time Outs.  Even basketball enthusiasts like my daughter, The Dolphin, think that games drag on needlessly at the end because each coach calls a series of time outs which they've been judiciously saving the entire game.  Here is my solution to the problem.  Change the rules so that after the last media time out (which, again, occurs at the first whistle following the four minute mark), each team is permitted a maximum of only two time outs, even if they have more than two left.  I would really prefer changing the rule to one (instead of two) time outs permitted during that period, but realistically, that is unlikely to happen in the current climate.  Even if each team used up all of their allotted T.O.s, under the proposed new rule at least they all wouldn't be bunched up at the end of the game.      

Movie Review: "Birdman"

"Birdman": B.   When you watch a few dozen movies a year, there are going to be three or four which you can't decide if you like or not.  Such is the case with Birdman.  Michael Keaton, reportedly the nominee favored to win the Best Actor Oscar, plays Riggan Thomson, a Hollywood has-been who gained stardom years ago as the action hero, Birdman.  Now Riggan has moved to New York and risked everything he owns to open a four character play on Broadway called What We Talk About When We Talk About Love, based on a short story by Raymond Chandler.   Riggan directs, and casts himself in the leading role.  But forty-eight hours before the initial preview he decides that the man he's picked for the other male part is not talented enough; to say that poor soul is summarily fired would be putting it mildly.  The day is saved when Mike Shiner (Edward Norton) agrees to fill in.  Shiner is a well-respected Broadway veteran who will immediately give credibility to Riggan's new project.

Director Alejandro Inarritu shows us what life is like backstage.  The drama there is palpable.  One of his techniques is the single-take continuous shot, sometimes referred to as a "long take," where the camera moves from one area to another without interruption.  Robert Altman made this method famous in his 1975 movie Nashville, but I've rarely seen it since, probably because not many directors have the ability to make it work.  Inarritu also deserves a tip of the hat for meeting the challenge of filming a story (Chandler's play) within a story (Birdman).  That challenge is the kind which historically has had a low success rate.

There are plenty of screw-ups during the two preview nights.  Props fall apart, lines are forgotten, the performers' timing is off.  Riggan's mercurial personality adds fuel to the flame, and Shiner does not back down from any of their several confrontations. In fact, he seems to enjoy them. Riggan wants to cancel the second preview but his right hand man, Jake (Zach Galifianakis), who functions as stage manager, accountant, lawyer and gopher, bluntly informs Riggan that cancellation, which would require ticket refunds, is not an option.  The second preview is sold out, mostly due to Shiner's last minute addition to the cast, and the fledgling production is under water financially.  The show must go on!

 

In addition to the strain of debuting his play, Thomson is pressured, if not tormented, by other concerns.  His daughter, Sam (Emma Stone), is fresh out of rehab.  Riggan has given her menial jobs to do around the theater, but she mostly exudes attitude which is not becoming.  She shows a softer side in her scenes with Shiner, but neither of them is very likable -- frankly, neither is anyone else in the film -- so we don't care too much where their relationship takes them.

 

Two other thorns in Riggan's side are his former wife, Sylvia (Amy Ryan), who may have good intentions but usually strikes a nerve with her ex, and Tabitha (Lindsay Duncan), a theater critic who promises Riggan, even before she sees it, that she'll "bury" his play.  She is appalled that a film star, and a former one at that, would have the nerve to think he could contribute to the pure art of theater.

 

Probably the "being" that agitates Riggan the most is his Birdman alter ego.  Riggan is prone to temper tantrums, usually the result of Birdman egging him on.   At first we only hear the voice; it reminded me of the devil's voice coming out of Linda Blair's mouth in 1973's The Exorcist.  Later in the film the voice has a body, that of a man in a bird costume, to go with it.  Combine all this with Riggan's telekinetic powers, and you have one surrealistic story.

 

There are two memorable scenes in the movie.  The first occurs on Shiner's first day on the set.  He and Riggan play off each other without the need of a script.  Admirably, the dialogue flows with a natural rhythm.  This informs the movie viewers in two ways: Shiner is a brilliant actor, and so is Norton.  The other scene of note is the searing, in-your-face monologue which Sam delivers to her father.  Among other things, she tells him that he is a nobody.  "You're not even on Facebook," she screams.  That one hit a little too close to home.      

Movie Review: "Selma"

"Selma": B+.  My favorite class during high school was Democracy, taught by Father Henry Schneider at Bishop Ryan my senior year, 1964-65.  The subject matter was approximately 25% civics, for which we had a text book, and 75% current events.  For that latter component, each student had to subscribe to Time Magazine, which in those days was the most respected nationwide purveyor of printed news in the country.  Every week Father Schneider assigned at least four sections of Time: on Mondays he quizzed us on the National section; on Tuesdays, the World section; on Wednesdays, the Business section, and any other section he deemed to be of particular interest; and on Thursdays, the cover story.  We had four Time-related quizzes a week, plus whatever test or quiz he threw at us for civics.  As a result, there has hardly been a time in my life when I was more up to speed in what was going on not only in the US, but worldwide.

And what a time of history it was.  The presidential elections were held near the beginning of the school year.  Although the results were lopsided -- incumbent Democrat Lyndon Baines Johnson captured 61% of the votes, while Republican Senator Barry Goldwater ("In your heart, you know he's right") won only five southern states plus his home state, Arizona -- our classroom informal discussions and formal debates were a highlight.  The Cold War was in a deep freeze, and the Viet Nam war was escalating.  "Red" China was a mysterious enemy, and a hot topic was whether that country under its new leadership should be admitted to the United Nations.  Although the US had already won the race to the moon, the Russian and American cosmonauts and astronauts were still making headlines.  But the constant news item which captivated many of us virtually every week was the civil rights movement.

Considering Minot's remote location in a conservative rural state, I found the general attitude of the Ryan students toward civil rights to be quite progressive and open-minded.  Ryan was not the most diverse of schools.  But the proximity of the Magic City to Minot Air Force Base contributed to a culture of hospitality.  New military families were regularly appearing, having been transferred to the tundra from all over the country.  As a class, the concept of ingrained hatred based on skin color was hard for us to fathom.  Time Magazine's pictures and text surrounding the Selma to Montgomery march in the spring of 1965 captivated us more than any other singular event.  Selma was roughly the same size as Minot.  How could the two communities be so different?

In 2006, I finally had a chance to visit Selma with Momma Cuan when we took our memorable Dixie Trip. (Some day I may post about it.)  Even though it was more than an hour in each direction out of our way, Selma was on my short "must see" list.   The sight of the iconic Edmund Pettus Bridge, which looked exactly the same as it did in the 1965 national news footage, sent a shiver through my bones.  (Only the experience of seeing the Texas School Book Depository in person had the same effect on me.)  It was here that the marchers, led by Dr. Martin Luther King, made history.  We spent a little time driving around the town, which revealed no hint of its turbulent past from four decades ago.  Before we left we also checked out the Brown Chapel (actually a good size church), six blocks from the bridge, where the marchers began their brave expeditions.

Given my personal interest in Selma dating back to my Democracy class, you can understand why I was very eager and curious to see the new movie Selma.

The movie simultaneously covers a battle and a war.  The "war," for which film critics and historians have accused the filmmakers of playing loose with the facts, concerns the civil rights movement and the face-to-face strategy debates between Dr. King (David Oyelowo) and President Johnson (Tom Wilkinson).  According to the film, Johnson wanted to hold back on the push for minority voting rights, deeming it wiser to concentrate more on eliminating other aspects of discrimination, such as inequality in education, employment and the judicial system, and access to public facilities.  King saw voting rights as the piece of the puzzle that could not wait.  For example, as he explained to the president, blacks were practically barred from receiving a constitutionally guaranteed right to be judged in court by a jury of their peers, because only registered voters were permitted to stock the jury pools.  Unfair state voter registration rules kept minorities out.  One reason why King's Southern Christian Leadership Conference picked Selma for action is because fifty percent of the town's residents were black, but only two percent were registered voters.

The "battle" was the march from Selma to the Alabama state capital, Montgomery, a distance of fifty-four miles.  As the movie displays, there were actually three attempts at such marches, each bearing drastically different outcomes.  The Edmund Pettus Bridge, spanning the wide Alabama River, is the ominous backdrop for each expedition.  These three mimi-chapters were the unquestioned highlights of the film.  Even for those who are familiar with the story, the large scale dramatization of those events is impressively shocking.  The two-fold purpose of the march was to call national attention to the plight of southern blacks, and to put pressure on Governor George Wallace (Tim Roth), with the urging of LBJ, to use state resources to give black Alabamans equal protection under the law.  Missions accomplished, although not without blood, sweat, tears and even murder.

I was afraid Selma would fall into the same rut that 2012's Lincoln (reviewed here on November 28, 2012; C+) did.  Both movies are about famous American leaders who were at the forefront of civil rights movements and who were gifted with tremendous oratory skills.  The newer film, directed by Ava DuVernay, has a few too many scenes featuring lengthly speeches, but unlike the older film, those "preachy" scenes are spaced more smartly, with other, action scenes interspersed.  One doesn't get the feeling that the story is only a series of speeches.  So, my caution regarding Selma was only partially (maybe "minimally" would be a better adverb) warranted.

Another shortcoming which those two films share is the number of characters who appear but who are not identified or explained.  For example, Andrew Young (Andre Holland) and Ralph Abernathy (Colman Domingo) are well known names even today, but in Selma they're relegated to such minor parts that we are unable to identify them on screen.  Malcom X (Nigel Thatch) appears on the screen for only a minute or two, apparently for the sole purpose of establishing who he is when we find out a little later that he's been killed offscreen.

Wilkinson proves once again that he is a versatile actor.  His LBJ is exactly how I remember the old Texan, with the weight of the world on his shoulders in the Oval Office.  Conversely, Dylan Baker's version of FBI Chief J. Edgar Hoover seems random and disconnected.  Roth's George Wallace falls somewhere in the middle; at least the greasy pompadour looked accurate.

I predict great things for newcomers Carmen Ejogo, who played Coretta Scott King, and Oyelowo.  Their speech and movements were obviously results of long hours of research and preparation for their respective roles.  The film contains innuendo of Martin's infidelity, a problem which, among other things, causes him to delay his participation in one of the marches.  The scene in which Coretta, wanting the truth, confronts her husband is a touching display of acting at its finest.

My parents lived in Texas for several months in 1942 after my dad enlisted in the Army Air Corps.  When I was a grade schooler growing up in Illinois, they once told me that, for many southerners, the Civil War was not over.  After watching Selma it would be hard for me to think my parents misspoke.  It's disheartening to think that Selma's historical events were "only" fifty years ago.  The need to carry on the battle for equality lives on today, and not just in Dixie.  Prejudice has not been eradicated, but were it not for the efforts of King and his supporters, America's twenty-first century racial chasm would be even wider.  That renders Selma an important movie.      

Quarterly Cinema Scan - Volume XVIII

My mother, Little Pook, used to be my cover for attending romantic comedies.  Anybody who saw me in the movie theater would surely think, "Oh what a nice guy.  He's enduring the pain of sitting through a rom-com so his mother can see it."  Little did they know I enjoyed that genre of film as much as she did.

My "cover" has now been gone for over four years -- Momma Cuan can take them or leave them -- so these days when I go to a rom-com I keep my fingers crossed that no one I know will recognize me.  The penalty of being discovered would call for me to surrender my man card.

While I don't make a point of seeing every rom-com that comes along, I have seen enough of them to be able to separate the wheat from the chaff.  I have not formulated a top ten list of my all-time favorite rom-coms, but I feel safe in saying that Walk, Don't Run from 1966 would comfortably find a spot on it, probably somewhere between numbers 4 and 7.

The setting is 1964 Tokyo, where the summer Olympics has caused an unsolvable shortage of hotel rooms.  English businessman Sir William Rutland (Cary Grant) has arrived in the city two days earlier than his reservations, and neither the hotel nor the British embassy is successful in helping him find lodging.  On his way out the embassy door he spots a bulletin board ad by Christine Eastman (cute Samantha Eggar, another Brit) seeking a roommate.  As soon as Christine sees him at her apartment door she realizes she forgot to specify she was seeking a female roomie, but it's too late.  Sir William, as only a Cary Grant character can do, sweet talks his way in, and before she can collect her thoughts he has become her tenant.

Shortly thereafter, Sir William strikes up a conversation with an American athlete, Steve Davis (Jim Hutton).  Like Sir William, Steve has also come to the city a couple of days earlier than his Olympic Village reservations, so that he can study Japanese architecture.  Although Sir William makes a meek effort to hide his own lodging arrangements, you know Steve is going to end up sharing a room with Sir William. (Conveniently, Christine's spare room happens to have two beds!)

Since this is a rom-com, it's just a matter of time before Christine and Steve's relationship becomes more than landlord-tenant.  Christine's engagement to local embassy underling Julius D. Haversack (nerdy John Standing) is a minor obstacle.  He is no match for Sir William, who delights in playing cupid for the benefit of his two new young friends.  Sir William's ploy to divert Haversack's attention away from Christine works like a charm.

The film has several other pleasing aspects: the unintentionally funny routine planned by Christine to give herself and her two tenants equal bathroom time in the morning, the two little kids who are spotted periodically sitting in the apartment building's stairwell, the frequent attempts by Sir William to comply with the Japanese protocol of bowing from the waist, and many references to the greatest mystery of all, viz., in what Olympic event is Steve participating?

***

Here are the movies I've seen on the small screen during the fourth quarter of 2014.

1. The Birds (1963 horror; Tippi Hedren decides to stay in fishing village Bodega Bay to fend off the birds with Rod Taylor, rather than simply getting back in her car immediately to head home to safe San Francisco.) C

2. Carnal Knowledge (1971 drama; Jack Nicholson and Art Garfunkel, roommates at Harvard and friends into their forties, have more than their share of self-inflicted frustrations with the women in their lives, including Candice Bergen and Ann-Margret.) B+

3. Hotel (1967 drama; Melvyn Douglas, the owner of the classic St. Gregory's Hotel in New Orleans, relies on general manager Rod Taylor to attend to all of the hotel's day-to-day problems, such as  key thief Karl Malden, hit-and-run culprit Merle Oberson, and sneaky potential buyer Kevin McCarthy.) C+

4. The Night Heaven Fell (1958 drama; Brigitte Bardot falls for Stephen Boyd, even though he is accused of killing her uncle.) C+

5. Out Of The Past (1947 drama; Robert Mitchum is a former gangster who gave up that life to run a rural gas station, but his ex-boss Kirk Douglas wants him to find Jane Greer who ran off to Mexico with forty thousand smackers of the chief's money.) B+

6. Psycho (1960 horror; Janet Leigh steals forty grand from her office, heads out of state, and then checks into the Bates Motel, where the proprietor is creepy Anthony Perkins.) A-

7. Walk, Don't Run (1966 rom-com; see the above mini-review.) A-