Lee Server's book is clearly the superior literary product; its words leap off the page in a playful way and contains a mind-boggling number of interviews including one that was prefaced with, "well who cares, everyone is dead now" (juicy, juicy stuff)! Server depicts Mitchum fondly but doesn't let him off the hook -- hey, his colleagues either loved or hated him, and even his wife described him as a bachelor at heart. What do you make of a guy whose ultimate pet projects end up as Thunder Road, a Southern trash movie about moonshine and muscle cars that "would foster a rabid underground following." Or what about the idea of becoming Calypso's "white hope" by cutting an LP titled Calypso - is like so... ?
Is like so... freaking hilarious
And then we have Henry, who upon returning from naval duty in the war showed his son Peter the medal he had earned. Within twenty minutes Peter had lost it forever somewhere in the long grass in the backyard. I can just picture the look on Fonda's face, which is usually also the best look in all his movies: a combination of contempt, moral superiority and silent rage. Henry Fonda can clear a saloon with one dirty look but I am glad he wasn't my dad. While seemingly polar opposites this might be the thread that connects these two dudes: rage. Cape Fear and Night of the Hunter: Mitchum's uncontrollable rage make both unforgettable. If Mitchum had been nothing but a lazy doobie-loving cat and if Henry Fonda had been just a starchy authority figure we probably would have forgotten both by now.
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