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 #819

Fourteen Hours
(Henry Hathaway; 1951)


Nick Zegarac said...

An utterly forgotten noir masterpiece that shouldn't be. Why hasn't Richard Baseheart received credit where credit is due. He's magnificent.

I also think he elevates The House on Telegraph Hill into an exemplary noir. Thanks, Tom for resurrecting the hard to find but much admired Barbara Bel Geddes too.

Vanwall said...

My favorite Basehart moment is when he's removing the bullet via self-surgery in "He Walked By Night" - excruciating to watch, and one of the finest pieces of acting ever.