The Explanation
(for those who require one)

And, of course, that is what all of this is -- all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs -- that song, endlesly reincarnated -- born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 -- same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness."
-- Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather

Seminal Image #455

The Asphalt Jungle
(John Huston; 1950)


Vanwall said...

Poor Doc, done in by his fatal flaw. Nowadays, he could just rent some anime for the road, and save himself some trouble, or at least until he latched on to those Mexican girls.

Overall - What a movie! Very close to the book, in contrast to the usual H'wood treatment, and fairly adult for the period. Doc, Dix and the rest were totally believable, and the plot was not only well paced, it was much more realistic than many others of that genre. It had crackling dialogue, the heist was awesome in its portrayal of criminal professionalism, and the acting was top-notch - for many, it was their finest work, IMHO. Damn, I love this film!

And the icing - it has the Monroe I prefer to remember - she had an innocence then that was never captured quite like it again, and she was heartbreakingly stunning to behold. "Yipes!" said Angela.

Flickhead said...

There was a Village Voice column in which Andrew Sarris related the story of showing The Asphalt Jungle to his students.

Whenever Sterling Hayden's Dix barked, "Don't bone me," the class cracked up. Sarris had no idea of what they were laughing at.

Poor Andrew had to ask them to explain. Dix. Bone. It made me wonder how much other nuance sailed over his head all those years.