Being such a visual medium, it often surprises me how rare it is to come across a movie scene that dispenses with dialogue and instead leans on visuals (and soundtrack) to tell the story, often with more impact than any amount of character blabbing could ever achieve.
Recently, I dragged Mrs. CFS to a documentary called Free Solo, the one featuring Alex Honnold, who is, quite simply, an athlete without peer, maybe the greatest ever.
For those who don’t know, Honnold, 33, is a free soloist, which means he climbs sheer rock walls with no ropes, no crampons, no carabiners, no parachutes, no jetpacks, no nothing to arrest his fall if he makes even the teeny-tiniest mistake.
I know, I know—it’s been forever since I last posted. Seven months, actually, an absence no doubt weighing heavily on my vast¹ and vocal² readership. (¹ Thirty-eight; ² Zero comments)
But for those of you keeping vigil in my front yard, it’s time to pack up the tents, scrape the candle wax off my sidewalk, head home to your parents’ basement to once again fire up those computers. Because I just watched a favorite scene from Mission: Impossible Rogue Nation for about the 20th time and feel the need to talk about it.
Living in the big city one sadly tends to take certain landmarks and cultural institutions for granted. Take, for instance, the John Hancock Center and Willis (Sears) Tower, two architecturally significant Chicago skyline stalwarts whose burly frames attract visitors from across the globe. And while multitudes daily gawp up at, and down from, these iconic landmarks, The Conflicted Film Snob, who’s seen them maybe a million times in his four-plus