"to-kill-a-mockingbird"

With the arrival of Spring and the sense of new beginnings, my contrarian spirit has me thinking about great endings. Great movie endings, to be precise.

Here’s a bold statement: Giving your children the chance to watch classic films can be just as vital as anything they learn in school. 

Watching Matthew Miele’s “Alan J. Pakula: Going For Truth” (2019), more a heartfelt memorial tribute than a standard doc, waves of nostalgia swept over me, not just for Alan J. Pakula’s best films from half a century ago, but for the bygone days when artists like him could thrive; when good, meaty scripts were still prized and Hollywood invested in them.

Why were so many of our very best actors born in April? It’s an unanswerable question, of course, but intriguing nonetheless. And in the rarefied world of movie stardom, the concentration of April birthdays is pretty remarkable.

With the gradual passing of opening movie credits, we also lost a vital element that distinguishes many so-called “classic” movies: the original music score, including a heroic, memorable opening theme. What’s the last film you remember that had a score you could hum while walking home from the theater — a piece of music you knew you'd always remember and associate with the film?

Born Eldred Gregory Peck in 1916, San Diego’s most glamorous native son evinced in life the very qualities that made his movie roles icons of strength and integrity.

Robert Duvall fully earns the hallowed term “actor’s actor.” He is superb in most anything he’s in. And at age 83, he’s still doing his thing. On a plane recently, I finally caught Tom Cruise’s diverting thriller “Jack Reacher” (2012), and there was octogenarian Duvall playing a gun dealer, stealing every scene he was in. Watching him ace this small but key supporting role made me feel it was time to pay tribute to a man who’s appeared in some of the greatest films of the past half-century.   Born to William Howard Duvall, a career military officer from Virginia, and his wife Mildred, an amateur actress and descendant of General Robert E. Lee, Duvall's childhood was peripatetic; his father was transferred frequently to various bases around the country.

Turning leaves, the appearance of tweed, and the visceral thrill of a cool nip in the air all evoke a seasonal tide turning. Autumn on film is one of the medium’s richest commodities, and a visual feast to mirror the one that rolls around every November.  Filmmakers can’t resist all that color or the movement of falling leaves, with deep nostalgia swiftly evoked in a few frames of swirling red and gold. Regardless of plot, cast or dialogue, the unsung hero of the autumnal movie is the cinematographer.  Fall on film seems to break into two categories: city and country; and that city is most often New York. It not only dresses the part, but the energy that arrives in town after Labor Day belongs to a law of physics. 

With the 91st Academy Awards upon us, the time feels right to recognize the crucial role that movies have played in our lives, particularly in troubled times.