Author Topic: The way we were

The way we were
« on: September 24, 1975 »
Three Days of the Condor
I'm here for 70s NYC: about a decade before my time, but still similar enough to cause a pang of nostalgia.

Oh to be on the run again

After a bit of unpleasantness at work,

Is it spelled ketchup or catsup?

Robert Redford is in need of a B&B to get away from it all. First he must find a vacancy. His methods are unorthodox.

She looks like she might have a room

Faye Dunaway didn’t realise she was shopping for a mystery man.

Make up your mind

She takes him home

Where the ❤ is

and he chats her up.

Honesty is important in every relationship

Stuff happens and she warms to him, despite a few other bumps in the road.

It helps that he can be a smooth talker if he tries.

These are great, do you remember what f-stop you used?

They bond over his poor prospects of survival.

Bad guy and worse guy

He’s only got three days. In the book he had six, so he has to move extra fast. Bed is the ultimate destination, fortunately this time with fewer threats of violence.

You seemed tense

As they make love her photographs haunt him and add urgency to the desired climax – la petite mort.

Really, what f-stop did you use?

He had a main squeeze only a day or two ago, but life is for the living.

She’d want me to move on

By the morning they’re almost like old fuck buddies.

I'm shocked I tell you

I can go along with everything else this movie has to offer (the CIA data mining novels; Redford going out for food at just the right time as he would later do in Sneakers; very definitely Max von Sydow as assassin), but this little romance is disturbing as hell. I guess they figured hey, it's these two, we'll roll with it. Judging by the reviews pretty much everybody did.

He's already forgotten your name

Oh and there was this encounter, wherein our hero, spinning a yarn about locking his keys in his car and needing help to break into it, looks to be guilty of racial profiling.

The way we were

Cliff Robertson is great as the ultimate pragmatist who doesn’t mind the withering scorn of the one that got away (so far). I love this exchange at the end when Redford (Turner) channels his inner Bob Woodward

as he interrogates Robertson (Higgins):

Higgins: It's simple economics. Today it's oil, right? In ten or fifteen years, food. Plutonium. Maybe even sooner. Now, what do you think the people are gonna want us to do then?

Joe Turner: Ask them?

Higgins: Not now - then! Ask 'em when they're running out. Ask 'em when there's no heat in their homes and they're cold. Ask 'em when their engines stop. Ask 'em when people who have never known hunger start going hungry. You wanna know something? They won't want us to ask 'em.

A nation turns its lonely eyes to you

The movie leaves the audience concerned for Turner’s ultimate fate:

Those New York pretzels were loaded with big chunky salt crystals.

Extra salt please, it's not yet commonly known it's a killer