Burn. Why did this film bomb so miserably when it came out in 1970? Whatever picture companies and elements of the people are responsible for this sure acted like terminal morons. Made by Gillo Pontecorvo, who created Battle of Algiers. Starring Marlon Brando as a British secret agent. Filmed in color in the Caribbean with hundreds of extras. About Dutch (or Portugese--can't remember) colonialism and revolt in the 19th century. And very, very fine.
Klute has the best male-to-female putdown line in recent movies, when Donald Sutherland says "That's so pathetic" to Jane Fonda. The best female-to-male one is probably when Glenda Jackson lays it on Oliver Reed in the hotel room near the end of Women in Love. Anyway, Fonda's performance here is peerless.
Frankenstein. Paul Morrisey's Warhol film is reportedly a gas. Of interest because it's supposed to pile on the violence in such a way that revulsion actually shifts into absurdity and half-delight. Even though the 3-D (those glasses) makes it super-real. Just opened at the Beacon Hill.
Bonnie and Clyde. No one believes me when I swear I saw a black and white print of this once, but it's true, and it looked amazing, like Walker Evans stuff. Arthur Penn directed, with Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway in the title roles.
Sleuth. I hated the play, but Olivier and Caine are supposed to be great. A tricky idea, made more so here since movies are so tricky.
Freaks. Tod Browning's 1932 bizarre classic is really about horribly mutated people, but there's nothing morbid about going to see it--honestly--and nothing pointy-fingered about its attitude. At the consistently excellent Park Square moviehouse through Saturday.