It’s a movie, a Hollywood movie.
I see what the actors, director,
editor and producer want me to see.
It’s all too phony for me to believe.
And those French, Italian and German
films without sub-titles, I can make
up my own dialogue. I go by the
scenes and looks on the actors faces.
The tone of their voices tell both
truth and lies. I make up my own
storyline.
I like those Spaghetti Westerns with
Clint Eastwood best. Those bad-ass
close-ups, those deep dirty looks,
the quick-draw shootouts and dubbed
over horse clippity-clops, the blaring,
tinny, brass music.
Cigarillo- smoking Eastwood is the
only one whose lips are in-sync
when he says, “Dyin’ ain’t much of a
livin’, boy.” Close-up of his piercing,
steely eyes. Everyone knows what’s
going to happen next.
-30-
Chris Hanch 4-14-2023
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