Happy Halloween! Why 'The Shining' has become my favorite film

Since today is Halloween, this seems like an opportune time to write about how Stanley Kubrick's The Shining has gradually become my favorite film of all time. Since its polarizing initial release in 1980, this adaptation of Stephen King's best-selling novel has become appreciated as much more than a horror film. In fact, part of the reason I am borderline obsessed with this film is precisely because it can be so many things to viewers depending on how they chose to interpret.

Tim Burton's Batman still holds a very special place in my heart. It remains my favorite piece of pop movie entertainment, but my intense admiration for The Shining has to do with its artistry, complexity and still persistent secrets.

My re-evaluation of the movie began after seeing Room 237, one of my favorite documentaries of recent years, which indulges the mostly absurd conspiracy theories of Shining fans. Even if none of these concepts (such as the film being a metaphor for the Holocaust) are remotely close to Kubrick's intent, I was enthralled with the idea that a single film could inspire so much elaborate thought.

I started to revisit and re-watch the film, discovering new ideas and themes each time. 

It takes the simple elements of the original King story -- an emotionally damaged family of three, snowbound in a remote location -- and takes it to disturbing and yes, even delightful extremes. This is a dark film that also has lots of humor, terror and fantasy. 

The Kubrick film twists the Oedipus mythology in a compelling way -- this is a story about a father who hates his son for attracting the affection of his wife (who he also is relentlessly hostile to). Much was made when the film first came out (and among its detractors now) that the Nicholson performance telegraphs his eventual descent in the madness, but these viewers miss the point. He is supposed to be at the brink of insanity before he reaches the Overlook, it's just that circumstances push him over the edge.

As the story unfolds, there is trenchant commentary on abusive husband-wife relationships (and how they impact children), racism, the historic slaughter of Native Americans and sexuality as both a source of threat and desire. The film's glacial pace, ridiculed by critics in 1980, now creates a dreamlike trance -- when the credits re-emerge at the end it's almost startling because it reminds audiences that it's just a movie.

It's also one of the most visually arresting films of all time. Its use of the Steadicam is legendary but it's the angles and color scheme Kubrick uses too. His infamous meticulousness works wonders, virtually every moment on screen could be a beautiful photo or painting. Few movies have one or two iconic images in them -- this one is nothing but. Once you've seen "the twins" you will never ever forget them.

The performances are peerless. Jack Nicholson gives a movie star performance for the ages -- part James Cagney, party Wile E. Coyote. His energy and expressiveness have never been matched, this role inspired hundreds of bad imitations but has never been topped. And Shelley Duvall, always underrated, does a phenomenal portrait of a weak-willed woman hopelessly trapped in an abusive relationship.

And the movie is the rare work of art that turns its idiosyncrasies into strengths. There a lot of things that happen in the film that aren't logical and simply can't be explained. For instance, up until a certain point in the story you could argue that everything could really take place either in the mind of the protagonist, or in the "real world." But then something surreal happens (I'm talking about when Jack is let out of freezer by some unknown entity) and you go with it because the movie is just that engaging. Today, all of the movie's oddities (including what appears to be an image of fellatio being performed by a large man in a bear costume) provoke endless speculation but little resolution, which is part of what makes the movie so haunting.

In my living room I have a small framed version of the eerie 1921 photo that ends the film. I believe that image encapsulates everything special about The Shining. It's scary in a deeply unsettling way, it's funny in a cheeky, anachronistic sort of way and it is mysterious -- is Jack stuck in the past, or did he willfully go back in time? Is he a ghost now or was he always some sort of spirit being? I have no clue, but I can't stop watching to find out.

I watched all the 'Scream' movies so you don't have to

With '90s nostalgia all the rage these days, Halloween fast approaching and the first three Scream films being available on Instant Netflix (I had to rent the fourth), this seemed like as opportune a time as any to revisit arguably the most popular and successful horror franchise of the Clinton era.

I saw the first three Scream films shortly after they all came out, and the more recent fourth film for the first time this week. I've never found them to be particularly scary but they are wildly entertaining. These are not great films, in fact, with the last two they start to get a little too pleased with themselves, but I like that they tried to bring something new to the genre, by stepping outside of it a bit and by offering self referential commentary about its cliches, while more often than not indulging in them.

Basically when it comes to the Scream films there is a lot of good, bad and ugly to grapple with. They can be maddening to watch at times. Are they supposed to be scary or funny? Are they supposed to be campy or clever? Sometimes, when the films are clicking all cylinders, they are all this and more but I also feel they are more conventional than their creators would like to admit.

For example, from the first movie forward the series establishes three ostensible leads (played by Neve Campbell, Courtney Cox and David Arquette) who we come to understand will survive every Scream film (sorry for spoiling that) and so automatically the tension is diffused (and almost non-existent in later sequels) because we know our "heroes" will improbably survive in the end.

I think this was a fatal error in the series. I get having one character who you can relate to throughout the films, most great horror series do that, but without any real stakes there are next to no real scares.

And even if these movies are mostly meant as comedic-meta takes on the horror film, they would be more compelling if they were occasionally truly terrifying.

That said, they each have some very well staged sequences and pretty fun visual gags -- I just wish they took chances more (as they almost did in part four, but more on that in a minute).

My other huge complaint is about the endings, in even the first film (which is probably the best) the action is brought to a screeching halt by overwritten monologues by the villain(s), who are always revealing themselves callously in the last act (even after hatching absurdly intricate plans which usually defy the logic of time and space).

For all of these films' riffs on the rules and conventions of horror films, they too follow a pretty predictable formula. That recipe works for the most part for me until the ends which usually lean too much on gore and threatening speeches.

Scream (1996): Director Wes Craven was really having fun here, making fun of himself and his own peers. Right from the first scene with Drew Barrymore there's an in-joke about how he hated the sequels to his original Nightmare on Elm Street. Being self-referential is almost trite now but at the time it was fresh and the original film is well-paced and plotted, although the presence of Matthew Lillard was a constant irritant to me. As is the Dewey-Gail Weathers subplot which inexplicably grows in prominence with each subsequent Scream movie. Still, the first movie is great entertaiment, if not exactly psychologically complex.

Scream 2 (1997): A pretty solid sequel that tries to do what 22 Jump Street did to a certain extent by openly acknowledging the derivative nature of sequels. Besides the more flashy set pieces and extra-meta subplot of a movie within a movie, what struck me most about the second installment is how it's a yearbook of virtually every rising star of its era. There's Sarah Michelle Gellar and Timothy Olyphant and Patrick Dempsey and Omar Epps and Portia De Rossi and I could go on and on. There was still some gas in the tank here and I like how the Campbell character's backstory continues to be a motivation for the murders.


Scream 3 (2000): Ok, here's where things start to get a little too cute. I do really like how the movie utilizes the fictional Stab 3 movie set for scares but this film has way too many unsubstantiated plot twists and inexplicable story holes. This would have been a great opportunity to kill off someone we'd expect to be safe to play with our expectations but instead this movie goes the sitcom route. Dewey and Gail dominate the film, which is a bad thing, although I did really enjoy Parker Posey's loopy performance as the big screen version of the newswoman. The ending is a real cop-out though.

Scream 4 (2011): Coming out a full 11 years after the last Scream film, you'd think Craven and company would really shake up the formula, but besides adding a few more cellphones to substitute for landlines they don't really do anything new here. This sequel is a little gorier and starts to gain momentum towards the end, until it gives up on what would be a very cool and decidedly dark ending to provide the audience once again with a feel good finale. That's a shame because they were almost onto something. I hated the fake-out openings of this film, which feel incredibly dated even though it came out just four years ago.

Still, despite all their flaws, I will give all these movies this -- they are insanely watchable, even it's in a face-palm, talk-to-the-screen in disgust sort of situation. Do I wish the "Ghostface" voice was actually scary -- yeah -- but at least these films are full of energy instead of the dreary listlessness of say, Saw.

'SPECTRE', 'The Force Awakens' and the expectations game

The Force Awakens

Like most movie nerds I am beyond excited about the upcoming installments of the James Bond and Star Wars sagas. Both films boast phenomenal trailers and will likely be bulletproof at the box office. But I am also concerned that neither film can ever live up the hype that has preceded them.

This seems incredibly unfair. Both films -- SPECTRE and The Force Awakens -- deserve to be judged on their own terms, but considering the legacy of which they are a part of, that's nearly impossible.

Take a look at the early reviews of SPECTRE, and a backlash against that film has already begun. The reviews are solid, most critics consider the film to be a good, if not great, Bond film. And yet nearly every one, including the positive notices, feel the need to compare SPECTRE unfavorably to Skyfall.

This is frustrating because, as something of a Bond aficionado, I can attest to the fact that not every entry in the series can and should be a game changer. In fact, only once in the series' entire history did two virtually flawless entries come back-to-back (that would be From Russia With Love and Goldfinger at the height of Sean Connery's reign).

Skyfall was not just the most commercially successful 007 movie ever, it was also arguably the most critically acclaimed as well, with legitimate Oscar buzz. The film not only established a new M, Q and Moneypenny, but it also provided more depth and gravitas for the Bond character than any of the previous 20-something films. Another movie can't do that, because it's been done.

I'm hopeful that SPECTRE doesn't detract from what Skyfall accomplishes, and early indications are it doesn't. But if it takes a more escapist, or in other words traditional 007 turn, which the early reviews suggest it does, that's not necessarily a bad thing. It's not like Bond was broken and needed fixing, it just benefited for some new elements, which Daniel Craig and company have provided.

Now it's time for another adventure, it's just not going to be Skyfall Part II.

SPECTRE

Each trailer for the J.J. Abrams-directed Star Wars: Episode VII has been better than the last. The most recent clip (with the exception of the frustrating absence of Mark Hamill) is undeniably spectacular. There is tantalizing footage of the new leads and old favorites like Harrison Ford as Han Solo and Carrie Fisher and Princess Leia.

More of the plot appears to be emerging but not too much for there to be any real spoilers. In fact, the filmmakers have done an incredible job of keeping the entire story under wraps.

What remains promising is that the emphasis of the film clearly appears to be more on the characters than the effects, which was something that all of George Lucas' prequel films got wrong. And what CGI there is in the film seems to minimal and not the least bit distracting.


Abrams, not unlike what he did with his Star Trek reboot, has done what he can with practical sets and effects, and the look of this film bring back real memories of the original classic trilogy, which made us all fall in love with Star Wars in the first place.

But I do have one concern -- kind of a big one actually. The original trilogy was many things. and among those qualities were a terrific sense of humor. There were a lot of great running gags, off the cuff humor and even a few laugh out loud moments. That levity is entirely missing from the early footage from The Force Awakens.

Don't get me wrong, after the hapless attempts at humor in the prequels, I am excited for a more serious, adult take on the Star Wars universe, but I also don't want a brooding Dark Knight-esque version of the story. My favorite entry in the entire canon -- The Empire Strikes Back -- was the darkest but it also included this scene.

Here's hoping that The Force Awakens doesn't collapse under the weight of its own importance.

'Rock the Kasbah': Does Bill Murray need a career reboot?

Bill Murray in Rock the Kasbah

After his wonderfully droll performance in Wes Anderson's Rushmore, comedy icon Bill Murray enjoyed one of the great second acts in movie history. Most comic actors often don't age well on screen. But Murray broke the mold, finding new, more dramatic shades to his persona while maintaining his unpredictable edge.

There have been missteps to be sure in the last 18 years, but he has given performances that rank among his career best in films like Lost In Translation (2003) and Broken Flowers (2005).

For me, he's become someone whose work I will almost always pay to see, in part because of the good will and affection he's built up for me as a performer over the years but also because, despite the fact that Murray is now 65, I still think he has an all-time great performance left in him.

When I first saw trailers for Rock the Kasbah, I thought that it could potentially be that movie. It seems like a wild premise (Murray plays an aging rock promoter stranded in Afghanistan) that could spark some of that old antic Murray energy.

Unfortunately, Rock the Kasbah isn't that movie. It's not nearly as terrible as some of the early reviews would have you believe, but it's also not a game-changer for Murray. It's not as uproariously funny as his best work, the tone is jarringly inconsistent and although the film deserves praise for not vilifying its Afghan characters, it doesn't really have a compelling message for audiences either.

It's a real missed opportunity since the director, Barry Levinson, has made a terrific political satire in the past  -- Wag the Dog -- a movie that was both funny and compelling. It's not that Rock the Kasbah is an abomination, it just isn't up to Murray's standards.

This is the challenging issue for Murray. He's in icon territory now. He can kill it in a cameo in Zombieland or the new Ghostbusters, but when he puts his name above the title, his fans expect comedy classics. This is due in part because of his now legendary position that he doesn't have an agent and if filmmakers want to reach him they must try their luck with an 800 number that he periodically checks while at home.

Murray still has a hipness factor and box office appeal, so Hollywood is willing to jump through these hoops. But his taste doesn't seem to be discerning at times. This is a man who made not one but two animated Garfield movies. And yes, he made fun of those movies afterwards but how does he explain the critically reviled Aloha or the disappointing FDR film Hyde Park on Hudson.

What's promising is that Murray has shown a willingness to work with interesting filmmakers like Anderson, Sofia Coppola, Jim Jarmusch and recently, George Clooney. I would love to see him take on a role that is nothing like anything he's played before. Richie Lanz, the role he plays in Rock the Kasbah, is like an amalgam of self-centered goofballs he's played before. It would be fascinating to see him really bite into something that is genuinely out of character.

Because Hollywood's ageism doesn't effect male actors at all -- there's plenty of time. Robert Redford, Michael Keaton and a number of other great actors have totally rebooted their careers later in life after a series of forgettable roles.

Murray, of course, is nowhere near Nicolas Cage territory yet, but his fans probably deserve a little better.

'Room' is remarkable: My top 10 child actor performances

Jacob Tremblay and Brie Larson in Room

Room is a remarkable new film (based on a best-selling novel) about a woman held in captivity with her 5-year-old son. I wouldn't dare spoil the plot, because I want as many people as possible to see this deeply moving film, but I will say that it's one of the best movies I've seen this year and it very well will make my final top 10.

It's one of the most unabashedly emotional movies I've seen in quite a long time and it handles its sensationalistic premise with lots of care and nuance. The film's greatest strength is it's performances, chief among them Brie Larson as the mother -- who is virtually assured a best actress Oscar nomination (hopefully alongside Lily Tomlin for Grandma) and the brilliant Jacob Tremblay, who is only 9 years old.

Larson if obviously up-and-coming and a new critical favorite, but Tremblay who was presumable only 8 when he made Room is a revelation. He is just a naturally gifted actor, he doesn't even seem to be acting at all for much of the movie and yet he gives such a powerful and believable performance that he too may get nominated for Hollywood's highest honor.

I don't know if you can attribute this to the editing, directed or Tremblay himself but he wisely plays a child as a child, he doesn't try to imbue his character with wisdom and tics beyond his years like so many earnest child actors do. Here are ten more movies where "tykes" got it right (with the caveat that I've yet to see some highly regarded movies out there, like Christian Bale's acclaimed performance in 1987's Empire of the Sun).

The 400 Blows

Kramer vs. Kramer: The secret weapon in this Dustin Hoffman-Meryl Streep tearjerker about the dissolution of a marriage is the 8-year-old Justin Henry. He was nominated for an Oscar for giving one of the most natural and honest child performances I've ever seen. He is particularly an ideal scene partner for Hoffman, with whom he develops a quiet and endearing rapport. Justin Henry breaks your heart in this movie and gives the project its soul.

The Exorcist: At age 12, Linda Blair -- aided by make-up and special effects that still hold up -- pulled off an incredible physical performance as an innocent little girl who gets possessed by a demon.

Blair allegedly didn't fully understand some of the gruesome behavior she acted out, but she is a big reason why this 1973 is still considered one of the greatest horror movies of all time. Blair's vulnerability early in the film makes the terror more tragic.

Beasts of the Southern Wild: This surreal little 2012 indie made a household name out of the pint-sized Quvenzhane Wallis. At age 5, she projected so much inner strength and grace in the role of an impoverished little girl who has to, at times, take care of her ailing father. The film may have divided some audiences who didn't know what to make of its ramshackle narrative, but I thought it was a beautiful little story and Wallis was what made it work.

Taxi Driver: Jodie Foster has always seemed so grown up as an actress that it's hard to fathom that she was really just a child when she played a prostitute opposite Robert De Niro and Harvey Keitel in this Martin Scorsese masterpiece. Not only is this one of my favorite films of all time, it's one of the most fascinating to me -- in part because of the subplot involving Foster's naive and spaced out hooker. She was nominated for an Oscar and was never really perceived as a child star for the rest of her career.

The Sixth Sense: Now that this movie has been endlessly parodied, it's easy to discount what an impact Haley Joel Osment had when he played a sweet child who "sees dead people." Everyone sort of forgets that this was ostensibly a Bruce Willis movie, but it was really Osment who powered the narrative, which director M. Night Shyamalan never was able to quite surpass. Osment's almost eerie maturity worked for this movie and to a certain extent in A.I.: Artifical Intelligence.

E.T. The Extra Terrestrial: And speaking of Spielberg, I gotta give it up for the leading actor in his beloved box office hit E.T., Henry Thomas. This adorable and plucky little guy gives such a winning performance that is both heartwarming and comedic in this classic adventure. Thomas plays Elliott, something of a neglected outcast who forms an incredible friendship with an alien accidentally left behind on Earth by his family. This is Spielberg's picture first and foremost, but Thomas elevates the material instead of detracting from it.

Henry Thomas

Paper Moon: A spunky Tatum O'Neal, starring opposite her father Ryan O'Neal, won an Oscar for stealing this period, black and white comedy directed by Peter Bogdonovich during his incomparable early 1970s hot streak. It's a rare buddy comedy- road picture to feature a grown male lead and young woman that really succeeds as both an homage to classic Hollywood and a nod to the changing social statuses of the decade in which it was actually made. And Tatum O'Neal was damn funny in it too.

The Shining: Danny Lloyd was a child actor plucked from obscurity by director Stanley Kubrick in part because of his ability to stay focused during endless takes on a grueling shoot on what became, in my mind, the greatest horror movie ever made.

The Shining will always be remember first for Jack Nicholson's star turn and Kubrick's iconic camerawork, but Lloyd is the quiet center of the storm, creepy and haunting in equal doses.

The 400 Blows: This beautiful Francois Truffaut film is one of my favorite foreign movies of all time, and even though it takes place in France and was made in the late 1950s, it really resonated with me as a young person. The disaffected and lonely Antonie Doinel (played by a young Jean-Pierre Leaud) would be Truffaut's muse for three more films, but he was never more effecting than he was here -- especially in the movie's ambiguous final shot.

The Kid: One of Charlie Chaplin's most charming silent comedies features his iconic Tramp with a surrogate son played by Jackie Coogan, who makes an adept physical match for the master of slapstick with soul. This 1921 film firmly established Chaplin's status as the biggest star in movies and showcased that the most touching relationships on film are often between a child and an adult.

From the worst ideas ever dept: Thoughts on a 'Die Hard' reboot

I think I've made it pretty clear on this blog that by-and-large I'm vehemently opposed to reboots and re-imaginings of classic films. The only time they've been successful in my eyes is when its a long-running series in desperate need of new blood. And the best of these -- I'm thinking of the reboots of James Bond and Star Trek in particular -- work because they don't mess with the formula in any profound way. These are essentially homages to the films that proceeded them (which is what I am hoping the new Ghostbusters will be.)

And yet I still think they are almost always a money grab and evidence of the creative bankruptcy of Hollywood. They would rather bet big on a product that has established earning power, than try to take a risk on originality.

The most recent Jurassic Park film was the most egregious example of that. That film may go down as the least memorable monster hit film of all time. It added nothing to the mythology of the original films, if anything it only introduced dumber ideas, like the notion that raptors could be trained to defend human beings, but I digress.

I raise this point because I stumbled upon the news today (and perhaps this has been out there for a while) that in their infinite wisdom Hollywood is looking to do a "young John McClane movie." That's right, they're planning to reboot arguably the most beloved action film of all time; Die Hard.

There are so many things wrong with this idea I don't know where to start. First off, Bruce Willis has already buried this franchise with one sequel to many. The original three still hold up and will always be fan favorites and there is nothing there to be improved upon. Live Free or Die Hard ushered in the era of a superhuman McClane who somehow became more durable with age. Like most audiences, I avoided A Good Day to Die Hard because the reviews were awful and I saw nothing to encourage me that this was a return to basics. I prefer my McClane with hair I guess.

Bruce Willis in Die Hard

So since Willis is now considered (finally) too old for the part and they can't create a new previously unseen child/heir to continue the series with, we're going to get a "young McClane" movie, with all the usual suspects (the hunky Chris's -- Evans, Pratt, Pine) are all being bandied about as possibilities to fill McClane's dirty tank top. I've got nothing against these actors but I don't think any of them could top Willis or bring anything new to the role.

A young McClane film would have zero tension we know he is going survive from frame one because we know he goes on five more adventures -- and yes, I know that is true of the Bond films but part of the appeal of 007 is figuring out how he will escape certain death. Not so much with McClane.

The genius of the first three films is they put the McClane character in a unique, pretty-much-contained presser cooker situation and he barely gets out of each one of them alive. Even Die Hard with a Vengeance which opens up the stakes and even provides him with a sidekick is a tough slog for McClane. Part of his appeal is that he is something of an average Joe who's in over his head.

Also it's not like he was 45 when made the first Die Hard -- he was young then. Also, are these films going to take place in the early 1980s or are we just going to ignore time? Also, why are they doing this? Doesn't Hollywood understand that this is a terrible idea that will never work?

I can stomach a lot of mediocre movies. I went to the theaters and sat through a PG-13 Die Hard movie which had the audacity to cut the profanity from McClane's signature line, but a new film, without Bruce Willis, starring some pretty boy -- well that makes me want to do a Mr. Takagi on myself.

'Il Bruto': Why I am a Charles Bronson fanatic

I've always had a strong affinity for big screen tough guys of the late '60s and '70s: Steve McQueen, Lee Marvin, Clint Eastwood, and especially Charles Bronson.

Bronson is fascinating to me because he didn't become a huge star until his late '40s. He's one of the most unconventional looking leading men ever (some would even argue he was ugly) and the defining characteristic of most of his best roles is their silences.

He didn't have to talk much. You could just look at Bronson and tell he was formidable. This man had a body most men in their 20's would envy. He didn't have to act tough, he just was tough.

There's also no self conscious irony in his films and his performances. There are no air quotes, and I appreciate that.

He is the center in one of my favorite movies of all time -- Once Upon a Time in the West. His character, who has no official name, but is referred to as Harmonica, is a man with a huge secret. That secret is revealed at the end of the picture to devastating effect. But Bronson doesn't have a big emotional scene. The revelation is played across his blank, stoic face.

What was probably at the time dismissed as a lack of range or talent now looks like bonafide gravitas. Few action stars have a real presence anymore but Bronson did. He didn't have to do much but stand tall and you had all the information you needed.

Once Upon a Time in the West

Curiously, Europe picked up on his appeal long before America did. Bronson started to build a considerable fanbase with memorable supporting roles in blockbusters like The Magnificent Seven, The Great Escape and The Dirty Dozen. Although he was the third or fourth lead, European audiences saw that Bronson had a sort of brute, taciturn charisma.

In fact, in Italy, where he made several profitable hit films, he had the nickname "Il Bruto", which translates to the Ugly One. And yet, it was Bronson's no frills demeanor that distinguished him.

In the terrific 1972 thriller The Mechanic he plays a methodical hitman who has his own code of honor that he does not compromise.

The opening 10 minutes or so of that film has no dialogue, the audience is just patiently watching Bronson set up a target. A sequence like this would never happen today or at the every least would be edited within an inch of its life. But director Michael Winner (who later directed Bronson in one of his most iconic hits, Death Wish) had the audacity to trust that audiences would find Bronson's mysterious character intriguing. He made a smart gamble.

Mr. Majestyk (1974), which is based on an Elmore Leonard book I believe and is a favorite of Quentin Tarantino's, is a little lighter than The Mechanic but a terrific example of Bronson at the height of his powers. He plays an earnest watermelon farmer who gets harassed by local yokels because he hires Hispanic day laborers to help pick his melons. He is just a decent man trying to do his job but he gets roped into a whole criminal plot.

Bronson plays this kind of conflict very well. He's that guy in the bar that the drunk person tries to pick a fight with. He'll give you one warning -- that you're making a big mistake -- but once the moron persists, he's going to lay them down, usually with one punch.

Speaking of punches, another great Bronson picture is Hard Times (1975), a Depression-era fable about a scheming pick-up fight promoter (James Coburn) and his hard-knuckled partner (a ridiculously ripped Bronson).

His look is so suited for the 1930s that the film sometimes feels like a a great lost film of that era which somehow happens to be in color. The fight scenes in the movie are brutal even by today's standards and Bronson is totally plausible in the role of an aging boxer with fists of fury.

Winner spoke about the element of "fury" being integral to Bronson's persona when the actor died at age 81 back in 2003. "The key to Bronson is the repressed fury, the constant feeling that if you don't watch the screen every minute, you'll miss an eruption," Winner told the Los Angeles Times. "But coupled with the intense masculine dynamism, there's also a great tenderness to Bronson."

Here, here!