I’ve just finished a long and depressing conversation with a close friend who attends Daf Yomi with yours truly. We were wondering (among other things) what has possessed Barack Hussein Obama to release five more ruthless Gitmo detainees?
All evidence, and common sense, suggests that these IslamoNazis will return to jihad and commit further rampages of murder, torture, rape, and plunder.
I suggested that Obama is a classic narcissist who will do what he wants regardless of the consequences. My friend asked, not unreasonably, if Obama does not heed his national security briefings? We went around and around the matter. But ultimately the question of Obama’s motivations are irrelevant. His actions are the only things that count. And this POTUS is guilty of dereliction of duty.
Okay. Got that out of the way.
We continue our survey of the twenty greatest movies of the 1950s.
For a complete listing of the greatest movies of the 20, 30s and 40s, click here.
13. Night of the Hunter, 1955
Night of the Hunter, more than any other movie I have ever seen, succeeds brilliantly in evoking the terrors of childhood.
Director Charles Laughton (Robert Mitchum is uncredited, but he directed the children) described it as “a nightmarish sort of Mother Goose tale.” Written by James Agee and Laughton, and based on a novel of the same name by Davis Grubb, Night of the Hunter is set in Depression-era West Virginia. Robert Mitchum plays Harry Powers, an ex-con who poses as a back-woods minister, marries widows for their money, and then murders them.
Mitchum’s Rev. Harry, silkily sinister with a voice like an oboe, has the word “love” tattooed on one set of knuckles, and “hate” on the other. Rarely has a film so elegantly and so chillingly announced its subject matter.
Ever since there were movie stars there have been star product endorsements.
Corporations and their advertising companies were quick to understand that those larger than life figures floating like angels on the silver screen were potent persuaders. Thus, the synergistic relationship between one product, the movie star, and a consumer product — cigarettes, perfume, makeup, whatever — was born, and continues with increasing power and sophistication to this very day.
The idea is simplicity itself: Buy me, be me.