The idealized cotton candy world of the 50s, breaks free from that in the 60s, followed by the bleak reality check of the 70s, and then once again rise up in a glorious haze of yuppies, coke, and Miami Vice… of the 80s!

For yes, it is madness — asking that we endure long silences, wordless glares across barren landscapes, and a story that in lesser hands would whip by in 85 minutes, and is instead stretched out to a beautiful, impossibly breathless 165.

I’ve been selecting so many classic films lately, that I thought it fitting to make a change and endorse one of the greatest camp classics of modern times–William Castle’s Strait-Jacket.

Bob knows everybody in the slums of Montmartre, and everybody knows Bob (Roger Duchesne). With his five o’clock shadow and his rumpled trenchcoat, Bob Montagne is a gambler and hustler, going from hosting one backroom game of craps to the next blind pig.

After the ambitious, philosophical war movie Fear and Desire and the solid film noir Killer’s Kiss, Stanley Kubrick achieved his first true masterpiece with The Killing

“As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods, they kill us for their sport.”