The Lighthouse Provides No Beacon

DATELINE: Masterpiece Emerges

 Dafoe v. Pattinson vs. Lighthouse

It was a dark and stormy movie.

If there are two actors making films for intelligent audiences, they are Willem Dafoe and Robert Pattinson. Now they have teamed up for a Robert Eggers film called The Lighthouse, and the result is electrifying. Set on a Maine island in the 1890s, it is an amazing setting for an unusual encounter.

Sold as a dark horror picture, that’s a simplification. This may be black and white and filled with atmosphere but this movie sends metaphointo a new realm, away from picturesque seaside imges. This lighthouse is perpetually gloomy and dark.

We have not seen a teaming of two actors in point-counterpoint performance since Peter O’Toole and Richard Burton. You may have had a few of those encounters in the 1960s when thoughtful scripts inspired brilliant actors. Well, we have it here.

The third performer in this weird triangle is the setting of the Maine lighthouse on a rocky, barren, unpleasant little island filled with squawking seagulls. They are, Dafoe tells us, the spirits of sailors lost at sea. To kill one is bad luck, to say the least.

Pattinson is the younger, but no means a lad, but he looks the part. Dafoe is grizzled and the boss who has power on the brain. What results is cabin fever that might make Charlie Chaplin eat his shoe.

With impending doom around every corner, it is hard to look away from Eggers camera. He has provided a compelling picture, nothing short of hypnotic and suspenseful. What we have here is “what?!” which is a scene that shows us an arrangement of derangement.  The dialogue is a battle of single word argument: “What.”  There is no shortage of seamen in this film.

In terms of overall impact, there is something akin to Kubrick’s Shining here, but the overall doom is far more reminiscent of Edgar Allen Poe. In any case, you will be watching a most unusual film.








Louis Hayward in & Out of Iron Mask

DATELINE: Musketeers Save a King 

 Two Faces of Louis Hayward

Forget the big budget Leonardo di Caprio version of Dumas’ classic novel, The Man in the Iron Mask.  In the 1939 version, you are seeing something completely different and refreshing.

Louis Hayward stars in the double role as the evil, ruthless king—and the twin brother he does not know, but uses as a body double. Was Hayward ever so young and good-looking? Yes, and in a double-your-fun role.

He manages to create two quite different personalities to the twins: the friend and ward of D’Artagnan is quite adventurous and plays off Joan Bennett as young Marie, his betrothed.

How could such an entertaining period drama be made in 1939? We can mention the director: the great James Whale, ending the decade he started with Invisible Manand Frankenstein. He was on the downslide in reputation, but could still put together a brilliant bit of folderol.

The iron mask does not actually show up for over half the movie—and watching Hayward play off his “twin” in great special effects scenes is a delight. His queen-in-waiting is Joan Bennett, positively glowing as she bounces between the impostor and the wicked king.

The diabolical mask is saved for a short period for Philippe, the good twin, and awaits a cruel fate for the king. Whale takes this story off-kilter, but no matter. If it looks like a Western at the end, it may be the foible of the times. And was that really Peter Cushing in a first-time role? And we barely recognized Albert Dekker as the father in his few moments.

Warren William is dashing as the older D’Artagnan—and the quartet have one of those rides into the clouds, so popular in the 1930s.


Project Blue Book, S2 Backtracks to Roswell

 DATELINE: More Malarkey! 

Since the veracity of the series means that the actual investigators of Project Blue Bookcame after Roswell by six years, there had to be a way to send them back.  Season 2 makes a start in that direction.


Aiden Gillen returns as the historical figure of Dr. Allen Hynek amid a bunch of fictional supporting names. Hynek was a major opponent of UFOs, but in this series he is the archangel of UFOlogists. Go figure.

Out of clever re-construction of history, however dubious in the entire science fiction genre, nothing is impossible. And, the impossible ties to the past are made. If you’re claiming a spaceship landed in Roswell, you can claim anything.

There is someone blackmailing the overzealous and fictional Gen. Harding (Neal McDonough in a bravura rotten villain role). He has made more enemies than a commie traitor facing the Un-American Activities Committee in the 1950s. The entire town of Roswell may be out to get him. His loyal aide, Captain Quinn (Michael Malarkey) is a ramrod cutie-pie who is starting to have doubts about his mission (not his sexuality).

Some kind of soap opera subplot continues with a Russian asset (or alien asset) now romancing Quinn on the side, after going after Dr. Hynek’s wife. Who said the 1950s were dull?

The show continues this season to be atmospheric and suggestive of the era: the names have been changed to protect someone. There is a great deal of cigarette smoking, swallows of whiskey straight, and pay phones on every corner.

The show suggests the government paid off many residents of Roswell with money, not necessarily with threats of death and maiming. We have again heroic Americans standing up to their corrupt government, however inaccurate that is.

In a two-part opener, we are back at Roswell where dead aliens may still lurk.







How to Become a Recluse

DATELINE: Social Isolation by Choice

You do not become a recluse overnight. If you are in the style of B. Traven, J.D. Salinger, Marlene Dietrich, Greta Garbo, or other celebrities, you have withdrawn from public scrutiny—because of public scrutiny.

Yet, there is at the base of these departures from social exposure a feeling of having suffered disrespect in your privacy and personal space. In order to guarantee it, the subjects removed themselves from easy access by all levels of society.

Imagine their horror today with social media, Internet intrusions, and tracking by advertisers. Whatever you research, whatever you question, however you reach out, it is saved by some little cookie somewhere. You can only cut so many cords to remain independent and isolated.

The last option is simply to withdraw from any public course of activity. It is easier than you might think.

You may go out on a shopping trip, though this too is less likely if you are willing to use Internet services for grocery delivery or Amazon products. You do not go out to theatre, movies, concerts, or the like after years of doing so. Your main interaction is with delivery service workers who likely drop off materials at your door—sending you an online notice. You open the door, grab your item, and shut it again.

You may go out once in a while to start your car, drive to the doctor, or go to the local service station for fuel. You may try to avoid credit cards, but it is difficult if you want to stay apart from society. You have to pay for upkeep of property with a crew of unreliable snow shoveling grass mowers. You could simply let the property deteriorate, but that may bring intrusions.

If you no longer work or work at home, you can increase your isolation. A writer is a perfect avocation in that regard, though you cannot meet readers in libraries, bookstores, or classes to whet their reading appetite. They see your author page, that is updated now and then.

You may limit your friends to phone calls, or now the more isolating text message. There is contact ongoing to an ever-decreasing number of people. As you grow old, you may even find your contacts decreased by infirmity and death, dementia and lack of response.

Family is easy to disregard if you are unmarried and have no children. Nephews and nieces prefer a distant, oddball relative who will one day out of the blue die and leave them money. No contact beyond that is required.

You may learn how uninvolved people are with your existence. Once separated, your distance becomes normal and your contacts are even more deeply absent for weeks, then months. Your well-being check-up is hardly a priority with anyone. Don’t worry about wellness checks.

If winter is long and cold, you may not step outside—and you have a legitimate excuse or explanation that neighbors accept. Good fences still make good neighbors—and those who are quiet and invisible are even better to the locals.

You may be seen going to the mailbox or putting out the trash, unless you do this at odd hours. Those actions then become mysterious and occur almost magically without anyone thinking twice. You are at long last a recluse.

Oak Island Turns Its Eye to Gary Drayton

 DATELINE: Oak Island Trifecta

  Lead Tag!

If you thought Gary Drayton changed the show since he came into his own, he made yet again another major discovery—as big as his Templar Cross of three years earlier. Curse of Oak Island is on the verge of a treasure trove of winning: a trifecta.

His insights, his luck, and his attitude, makes him a compelling figure. Gary went a long way to make Oak Island’s series the so-called #1 show on cable.

It is Gary who finds “bloody silver,” what the treasure hunters have always wanted: the most brazen evidence yet.

Three sites simultaneous digs meant to receive permits and going into the swamp foremost to dredge out water to show a 1200 AD structure.

They also now seem to have found the original Money Pit that was flooded first in 1805. That was not a factor in the 21stcentury where there is an arrogance that the flood tunnels can be shut off.

What this all means is that there could be three treasures on Oak island. It gels with the theories that different people, at different times, came to the island to do major excavation to hide mysterious historical treasures.

Metallurgist Dr. Christa Brousseau tells them that the tag is not silver, but it is impure lead. It was deliberately created possibly a thousand years ago.

Over in the swamp Dr. Ian Spooner is back, which is a sign that he is on hand for anticipation of something big.

Fred Nolan’s son believes they are looking at vindication of the surveyor’s lifelong hope.

Another metallurgist reveals in the War Room that this tag of impure lead is from an area well-known to the Knights Templar and may even be of similar origin.

The big payoff may be, however, undermined by Hurricane Dorian that is on the horizon.







Summit with Rat Pack

DATELINE: Ocean’s 11 History!

  Frank & Jack!

A bad, inconsequential movie seldom is a watershed of history. So, to find a film that provides a great context for politics, social life, entertainment, and cult of celebrity, you have to stand back and simply be agog at its temerity.

Ocean’s 11, the original 1960 movie, turned out to be seminal and a turning point in mindless fluff having serious impact. The Ocean 11 Story will surprise you.

This gang was called the Summit (and it’s a pinnacle of some lunacy). Frank Sinatra, Peter Lawford, Dean Martin, Joey Bishop, Sammy Davis Jr., were denizens of the Las Vegas show world. That was the descendant of vaudeville—taken a turn toward Godfather syndicate crime and gambling.

These entertainers brought thousands to the desert to pack five casinos along a neon strip. They created a world of entertainment unto itself.

And, the mob was beholden. Their pranks, self-deprecating humor, and interjecting in each other’s shows became an act itself. They soon were joining forces: “maybe” someone else would show up and liven up the audience. Tickets were prized.

Sinatra’s mob connections (notably played out in the Puzo tale, Godfather) made him royalty. His friends like Sam Giancanna could guarantee a Hollywood career however he wanted it.

Then, his hostility to Lawford ended when the actor married into the Kennedy family—and JFK ran for President with Franks support. It was the first time a pop star turned his hit song into a campaign rally tune.

Ties between Sinatra, beautiful Hollywood starlets, and a Kennedy president, became legend: Marilyn Monroe was in there too.

A double-edged mob could protect Kennedy—or kill him.

And, the Rat Pack lived it up, never sleeping, making a cheesy movie with the casino help. It was a movie about robbing the casinos—and the mob loved it.

You could have High Hopes and a Kind of Fool as these loose show-stoppers unloaded on screen and off. They moved off second-banana status with Sinatra’s Oscar coming from here and going to Eternity, Martin’s break from Lewis, and a black man on equal footing.

The Summit of talent heckled each other—and brought in tons of money and popularity. They would never do more than one take in their movie—which was merely an extension of their stage shenanigans. They lacked self-discipline, but who needed it?

They made Las Vegas, and they made Kennedy president. They loved the danger of the Mob, and no one dared cross them. It was a golden age of promiscuity and booze.

This hour documentary turns out to be highly significant about how silly inanity could dominate a century.



Thomas Crown: An Affair Not to Remember?

DATELINE: What Should Have Been?

 Stand-in graveyard?

In 1968, one of the ultra-cool movies that was meant to be an antidote to the growing counter-culture of long-hair and hippies, was Norman Jewison’s stylish caper film. Sexy cool, with dune buggy rides on Crane’s beach in Ipswich and rooftop brunch on a patio in the South End of Boston, this was your ultimate sophistication.

The Thomas Crown Affairwas meant to be a vehicle showing off a Brahmin Bostonian outsmarting a beautiful insurance agent at his hobby of “crime.”

It has all the looks of a film back in the late 1960s when Alfred Hitchcock wanted to drag Grace Kelly out of retirement with the promise of another Cary Grant co-star vehicle. It’sTo Catch a Thief in reverse. However, nothing panned out. The film settles for second-best.

Hitchcock also had Tippi Hedren under contract—and so they could not even bring her on as the beautiful insurance agent. Yet, Faye Dunaway is clearly wearing the designer outfits and living the life of a millionaire investigator meant for Grace or Tippi. She tangles with a guy in a Brooks Brothers suit who pretends to be a millionaire executive, but looks like a motorcyclist in posh dress.

No doubt that Steve McQueen looks dashing, but we never believed for a second that he could play polo or chess. Not only that, the film looks like it was supposed to play out in London, but they had to settle for Boston. McQueen reportedly could not master a Boston accent and gave up half-way through the film.

It’s the ultimate double-cross thriller that Hitch loved to do, but Jewison throws in modern elements like split-screen moments (all pointless) and Noel Harrison (not Rex) sings “Windmills of Your Mind.” It seems even Dusty Springfield turned them down.

The climax of the movie takes place at Cambridge City Cemetery, a stand-in for ritzy and prestigious Mount Auburn Cemetery across the street, no doubt. We were a tad shocked to see filming near my mother’s recent burial site back then, not far from her grandmother.

Some films you may remember for all the wrong reasons.






Pink at Heart for Grant Williams

DATELINE: In Romeo’s ‘do?

At least one Celtic player in the NBA wants his three teammates to be on the All-Star team.

There is some doubt that the Celtics will be able to muster Kemba Walker, Jayson Tatum, and Jaylen Brown, on the team. It seems a glut of wealth may be the Celtics counterweight.

There is a great disbelief that the Celtics will have enough support to see their three hot stars in the All-Star lineup. It seems especially so since Tacko Fall holds more votes than almost anyone else.

Much to our amusement, fellow Celtic, the intriguing Renaissance Man off the court, Grant Williams, is making an offer we can’t refuse. No, this is not the Incredible Shrinking Man: this is the incredible, smart Celtic.

Grant is quite a genius, in case you are wondering, with a nerdy photographic memory, the ability to speak several languages, and play several instruments of music. His specialty de la Maison is the piano, but we have yet to demand a duet with the other piano player on Celtics: Jalen Brown.

But we are ahead of ourselves: Grant made a deal that if fans vote the three starters on the All-Star team, he will dye his hair pink for one month. Now, this is not so earth-shattering and may not be much of a stretch for the non-traditional Grant. We’d like to see Grant with pink hair regardless of the all-star vote.

So, vote often for the trio of Celtics. We love Grant in Pink. No, not Cary, and not Ulysses. We mean #12.

Madman & Rebel: Dennis Hopper

DATELINE: Don’t Forget Drunkard!

 He’s Not in this Doc!

Dennis, Our Favorite Menace!










New England Legacy: Video Cheating?

DATELINE:  The All-Seeing Video Eyeball

Spygate crashers?










Boston Stars Join Police Lineup in California!

DATELINE: Wine Chaser?

Call it Selfie Destruction?











Short Hiatus Teases Us with New Insights!


 Poussin Painting

Curse of Oak Islandhas returned with big insights.

Has another discovery been made? They have found a structure that could be a booby trap design to send water into flood tunnels on the island. No historical record exists, but how did people go out under ten feet of water to build floodgate?

Creating a bump out has revealed a possible engineering marvel. Of course, Marty Lagina and son Alex are not there for this important stuff, which likely means they are out filming the Civil War Gold series in Michigan. Operative term is “away on business.”

All the second bananas are here for this one: Laird, Crowall, Henskee, Gary Drayton, Begley, Bill Gearhardt, Terry Matheson. Of course, Gary immediately finds cribbing spikes from the 1600 or 1700s. You may notice that Dave Blankenship, Dan’s son, has been further marginalized.

Another “expert” on French art shows up to show that secrets of Oak Island were recorded in oils during 17thcentury.

A French art expert claims a French painter named Poussin painted a map in his painting to show where the Ark of the Covenant could be buried on Oak Island. Why did he have secret knowledge? Guesswork connections.

We also go back into the swamp this week with Tony Sampson, the diver who has been on many times. They are looking for newer anomalies using GPR. It’s suddenly cold in the swamp and they are heavily insulated. They are looking for the point overlaid in the French painting.

Permits again are going to be required.

They also joke that Alex is going to have to get his hands dirty in Smith’s Cove. Every five minutes is a new most important discovery yet.

The word of the show –and day—is dendrochronology, or dating by tree rings. We are now in the exact time of 1795.

Patriots Receive Their Come-Uppance!

DATELINE: The Empire Collapses 



The Mighty Patriots have struck out.
Now they will feel Miami is on a roll.

Ghosts of Cannibal Islands!

DATELINE: Papua Horror!

 Killer Ostrich

No, it’s not what you think!  Someone gave this sober documentary a title right out of the worst tabloid movie horror. This is an hour-long episode about the Bismarck Archipelago in New Guinea.

However, the sensational title is not far off the mark. The masks made by the descendants of families of former cannibals are practically copyrighted. They are singular and unique horrific expressions of spiritual power. Ghosts of Cannibal Islands is a rather surprising little documentary.

The islands were under German control until after World War I, and many of their missionaries were eaten by the natives. The German hosts of the show are quick to explain the blond haired natives as not the result of the German influence, but some unknown group from the continent. Yeah, right.

However, that good German engineering is evident when they must drive over 100 year old wood bridges, built by the colonials. These marvels will last for another hundred years.

The islands are volcanic and still spewing from a major eruption 30 years ago. Little streams are boiling, and the ground is warm. If you go into caves, you will roast from the underground vents of heat.

The natives have abandoned the major city that is now under ash, and the dust makes the place look apocalyptic. Yet, there are still animals in the jungle.

One of the most dangerous is a form of ostrich that is a man killer, standing nearly as tall as a man, and with claws that are like spikes if you are kicked.

There is an isolated group of men who lived apart and are considered “taboo.”  Women are not allowed to look upon them when they sail past the community, and their lives are highly secret. Men can join if they want.

What we have here is a jaw-dropping look at a place where extinction seems around the corner, and the flora, fauna, and surviving creatures are something out of science fiction.

This film is utterly intriguing and mind-blowing.







Brady Leaves New England with No Sentiment

DATELINE:  Finger of Choice?

In case you were wondering about Tom Brady leaving his “home” of 20 years, he told us: “I’m not the nostalgic type.” Goodbye, Gillette. And rotsa ruck.

The sound you heard is Jim Morrison singing “This is the End,” from a vandalized cemetery in Paris. The cacophony of noise is the Flying Elvis fallen from Graceland.

Tom Brady is gone.

We keep wondering how Boston sports media can twist this heartless slam into something not negative. We know fans are imbeciles and won’t see the insult, but you do have to recognize that the media birds eat the crumbs left by the management of the Patriots and the NFL.  Bill Belichick has won: he will unload Brady and Krafty will let him. That kiss on the cheek is right out of the Judas Iscariot playbook.

They also have to make “friends” with those athletes who hate their guts to make it seem like it’s all a fun game. It isn’t. You hear it more nowadays: it’s a business.

And with that, Tom Brady basically told New England fans to go and shove it. He never was a Bostonian or a New Englander: this was the place he worked, and now that he may not work here any longer, he’s headed for a better place.

May he rest in peaceful retirement.

But we think he is returning to the circus of the West Coast where Hollywood is a leap-frog away—and his model wife can bask in the limelight with her billion dollars. He may finally earn enough in the next three or four years to buy the franchise of his dreams.

Tom Brady has no love for the Patriots anymore: the affair is over, and you likely can blame Belichick for making it a most unpleasant few years. Those six Super Bowl rings were never meant for New England. They are worn on his fingers—not yours.

He is leaving you only one finger. Pick-six indeed.