Dr. Clyde Wilson reviews The Sweeney, directed by Nick Love.
Art Livingston finds anarcho-tyranny in the Fritz Lang classic.
Frank Borzage may well be the best film director born in the United States, and I haven’t forgotten John Ford, who was also a master. Borzage, the son of Italian-Swiss immigrants, achieved much in his films that can only be understood as Catholic art, which is why his movies are now mostly unwatched or, when seen, misunderstood. He most certainly saw the world through Catholic eyes whatever the degree of apostasy in his personal life, something that remains obscure.
Since his earliest appearances in folk ballads of the 13th century, Robin Hood has been a slippery fox of a hero. He’s a man who thumbs his nose at the powerful while going his merry way aiding the powerless. To this day, the King Johns and Nottingham sheriffs the world over fume at his impudent exploits and hurl interdictions at his spritely, elusive form. But to no avail. The outlaw of Sherwood Forest can no more be captured than can a will-o’-the-wisp.