jeżeli twoje dziecko najbardziej na świecie kocha filmy, a ty najbardziej na świecie kochasz swoje dziecko, to kup mu spekulacje o kinie, pozakulisowy apendyks:

Now Franklin Schaffner’s epic Papillon is a pretty iconic film for boys my age who saw it when it came out or later on television or in the eighties on video. The film is very involving. It contains maybe McQueen’s finest serious acting moment on film, when he sticks his head out of the solitary confinement door and is not only unrecognizable but completely deranged. And the film contains one of the most powerful time cuts I’ve ever seen in a motion picture.
The film’s also not a little pretentious, self consciously arty, unrelentingly grim, extremely grueling and except for Dustin Hoffman keeping a bankroll and an extra pair of spectacles up his ass, completely devoid of any entertainment value.

In a way, a grueling affair like Papillon being presented by its studio as a massive commercial epic encapsulates the era of seventies filmmaking better than any other example (I own Steve McQueen’s personal 35mm print of Papillon that includes twenty extra minutes. I joke it’s twenty extra minutes of Steve McQueen close-ups).