A compassionate, pragmatic anti-sentimentality, or an attempt at one, serves as the through line for his examination of one the most mythologized of all screen actors.
I say this with love: My father is a master of rhetoric. He is a master of rhetoric without, by his own admission, ever having mastered anything to do with rhetoric.
Greven’s analysis is fluid and detailed, while excavating exhilarating thematic linkages between all filmmakers.
Where do collective memories come from? From faded photography, and skewed reviews?