TABLE OF CONTENTS

film

Charley Bubbles, Hour of the Wolf, Up the Junction

Charley Bubbles is the first movie about a cool sleek 1968 artistic success: an ennui-ridden, spoiled rotten writer who can hardly breathe from the fatigue of being an acclaimed artist. It is for the most part an irritatingly stinting film, even though the photography’s pleasant, the apple orchard color is cheery, and there are two fairly good female performances by Lisa Minelli, an extraordinarily willing no veneer actress, a gnomic, quaint, slight girl with enormous eyes, and Billy Whitelaw as Bubbles’ leathery ex wife.

It’s also a single-minded film. Bubbles, in Albert Finney’s puritanical, sucked-in, ungiving performance, is not so much a man as a particular stage when life has lost its zing and there are no more visible goals on the horizon. It’s a unique performance of a Bully who sullenly recedes: Finney keeping his acting technique below a dead flat surface, acting as a foil for

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