Widower's Tango

Living for half a century certainly makes me pause, if only to catch my breath. It isn't as if I have arrived at this mile marker at a s...

It might almost seem redundant for me to be reading Moritz Thomsen's "Peace Corps Chronicle" Living Poor here on a small isla...

Peter Medak's superb 1991 film, Let Him Have It dramatizes the case of a somewhat dim young man who becomes a petty criminal in 1950s E...

The final shootout in Sam Peckinpah's The Wild Bunch has been marvelled at for forty years. Peckinpah's singular use of slow-motion...

Somewhat miraculously still in the Philippines, I have had a tough time adjusting to being a resident rather than a tourist. It's easy b...

I've been using this blog as a pseudo-diary, so I may as well admit the latest event in my life at mid-way. I have transported myself fr...

The term cinephilia has always made me squirm. Though meant to denote a "love of cinema," it has uneasy sexual overtones. And it ...