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By words that just hang in the air and stories that aren't going anywhere
I cannot say that I am going to town on the free channels of the Roku, because as of late I have been so exhausted that I am watching fewer movies than usual, but I am fascinated by TVTime because it gives me access to a remarkable number of British films which have been otherwise difficult to impossible to find—noirs, musical comedies, the aforementioned quota quickies—so long as I am willing to watch them at a quality that gives pirated media a bad name. It reminds me of the early days of Netflix and YouTube and I keep expecting to discover one evening that it's all been pulled on grounds of massive rights sketchiness, but in the meantime it's enabling me to pursue several avenues of exploration that until now had obliged me to wait on the hazards of Criterion and TCM and once upon a time the local arthouses. I am still out of luck on a couple of particular titles, of course, and I am dead out of luck when it comes to finding a couple of source novels in my local library, which would be less annoying if I could find them on my local internet. I'm not entirely sure what I'm researching and am not asking for suggestions, but I'll report back if it resolves into anything more complicated than comparative literature. If nothing else, I had never thought of John Mills as a noir-identified actor like Eric Portman or James Mason, but I've just seen him in a second example after The October Man (1947) and there's at least a third on my radar. I suppose when you are a national archetype, it's an unavoidable phase.
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I really like him. He was not one of the very first actors I followed when I began to pay attention to movies fifteen years ago, but he was close. In December,