While I was snuggled up on the couch last night, nursing this summer cold I spent the two good hours I had between getting home from work and the deadening effects of Nyquil to enjoy the 1976 thriller, Marathon Man, which happened to be on television.
There is something about this movie that I find oddly comforting. I know. Really, I know. That's just wrong. Cause it's a thriller. Set in super-gritty and threatening 1970's New York. Featuring Nazis. And dentistry. And long distance running.
There is something about the opening scene (the car crash) and the realism of the neighbourhood it's shot in that makes me yearn for that gritty and threatening 1970's New York. It makes me yearn for it in a way that I shouldn't, considering I was two years old when it was shot and living in a far less gritty Canada.
Maybe it's just that it taps into my fascination with the McCarthy era. Or maybe it's the set design - I love Babe Levy's (Dustin Hoffman) cluttered, book littered apartment. Or maybe it's just watching Roy Scheider do sit ups in that hotel room. Or maybe, just maybe, it's watching those great and very different actors work together.
If I'm not feeling better by tonight, I may have to snuggle up again and watch Dog Day Afternoon.
Mmmmmmm....gritty.
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