In which Charles Willeford’s steamy Floridian art-noir is moved to Italy. Hm.
In which thoughts on director Alan J. Pakula and cinematographer Gordon Willis’s paranoid ’70s trilogy are thunk.
War is a madhouse, religion is a joke, and suicide is painless.
In which we travel to 1970s San Francisco and experience a profound and inescapable paranoia.
Three movies full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.