"The Eiger Sanction:" Give a guy credit for balls of steel

Title: The Eiger Sanction
Released: 1975
Genre: Spy thriller
Notable for: Clint climbs mountains
Coolest thing Clint does: Dangles (for real) on a rope off a sheer rock face

Nothing sounds much stupider than the idea of Clint Eastwood playing a mountain-climbing assassin spy. The stupidity factor explains why neither of us ever watched "The Eiger Sanction" until compelled by the noble yet absurd duty of completing The Clint Eastwood Project.

Expectations were low, but we were both pleasantly surprised.

"Definitely worth watching," Andrew says. It is a passably interesting spy story sprinkled with gratuitous female nudity, humor now very politically incorrect, and legitimately striking mountain sequences.

Forgive us for being slightly confused about whether we are supposed to take the spy stuff entirely seriously. Much of it is more like "Get Smart" than James Bond. The spy boss is a "bloodless albino" far beyond eccentric. His right-hand man is an obnoxious tool who breaks out ridiculous karate skills to fight Clint. Clint's lifelong enemy is a swishy guy with a homicidal streak and a beefy bodyguard.

The story starts with Clint, a college art-history professor, being both blackmailed and bribed out of retirement and back into the employ of a shadowy spy network. His specialty is assassination, or "sanctions." Clint is the only man for the job because he has mountain-climbing experience and one of two enemy agents to be killed is going on a expedition up the Eiger in Switzerland.

Clint's character is somewhat urbane and very jaded. He has disdain for his students, his spy network and even his country. In his assassin's view, America conducts itself no better than its enemies.

We suppose his character is also intended to be hip and worldly because he enjoys interracial love and his nemesis is a gay guy played by Jack Cassidy. The hipness falls flat but we laughed at the jokes because they are full of stereotypes no one would put on film now. Cassidy's gay character has a lapdog named "Faggot." Clint's main love interest is a "black chick" named Jemima. "Maybe your mother was turned on by pancakes," he tells her in allegedly flirty banter. He also has sex with a Native American girl who never says a word, as if the white fathers have not taught her their tongue. Clint himself puts on a stereotypical "cupcake" lisp as a disguise in one scene. We gather it was considered a hoot just to see Clint pretend to be gay.

Clint, as director and lead actor, was mostly interested in the mountain-climbing stuff. That's what makes the movie.

His character works to get back into mountaineering shape by looking up an old friend who runs a mountain-climbing school in the desert. The old friend is played by George Kennedy in his second Eastwood film in a row. For another return appearances, this is the third film in a row that shows Clint drinking Olympia beer. Malpaso must have had a product-placement deal with Olympia, because no one liked that beer that much.

Conveniently, Kennedy's mountain-climbing school has been transformed into a resort full of beautiful young women do nothing but lounge around in bikinis. Clint's trainer is the Native American girl who can run like the wind up mountains. To encourage Clint to keep up, she pulls ahead and pops her top to show her boobs. So there is some great film-making here.

Twists and turns of the spy story seem of secondary importance by the time they get on the Eiger. Clint and some other actors really went up on the mountain (helped by helicopters). They shot real climbing scenes and many of their own stunts. That stuff was real: One crew member was killed an another was seriously injured by a rock slide during production.

Mountain-climbers gave the film props for authenticity, despite a couple of gaffes only an expert would notice. Expert credentials are not necessary to see that, no matter how safely the stunts were staged, Clint had balls to do it.

Any real man respects a guy with balls. It's difficult to imagine any filmmaker today doing what Clint did to make this movie.

Next up: "The Outlaw Josey Wales."

"Thunderbolt and Lightfoot:" No pigeon holes here

Title: Thunderbolt and Lightfoot
Released: 1974
Genre: Offbeat crime caper
Notable for: Oscar nomination for best supporting actor
Coolest thing Clint does: Blows into bank vault with 20 mm cannon

Ten minutes into the film, Andrew's friend Preston looked up from his tacos and uttered four words that must have been spoken many times by Clint Eastwood fans.

"I don't get it," the kid said.

Just when Clint seemed securely pigeon-holed as the quiet but deadly cowboy/cop, he put out a movie that is completely different. It worked because "Thunderbolt and Lightfoot" is very entertaining and maybe even very good.

Here are some ways this is no regular Clint Eastwood movie: Everyone around Clint dies but he kills no one; people shoot at him repeatedly but runs instead of shooting back; as far as we know, he doesn't even have a gun; he is likable and smiles several times; by his standards, Clint has character growth and dialogue; and for maybe the first time ever, Clint plays a character who is supposed to be his real age, a Korean War veteran slightly past his prime.

Told you it was different.

It is difficult to describe the movie in any way that gives it justice. Clint basically leads a gang of robbers in an elaborate caper, but the story is punctuated by enough weird interludes that the overall flavor resembles a "Road Runner" cartoon.


At the start of the film, Clint is a soft-spoken preacher, for Christ's sake, delivering a sermon in slick-backed hair. Only a few moments are required to determine things are not as they appear. A dude walks into the church and starts shooting at the preacher. Clint runs away and flags down a passing car. It's a freshly-stolen vehicle driven by Jeff Bridges, who plays Lightfoot.

Lightfoot is, to put it mildly, a free spirit. He has a silly laugh, an abundance of self-confidence, mad driving skills and an engaging smile. A friendship and man-to-man affection develop, and Clint and Jeff become road buddies.

Clint is pursued by former colleagues who think he double-crossed them on an earlier robbery. They broke into a bank vault with a cannon, a crime famous enough that newspapers nicknamed Clint "The Thunderbolt." Loot from the robbery was hidden in a one-room schoolhouse but surviving gang members mistakenly believe Clint took it. They tracked him down when he was laying low by pretending to be a preacher.

Clint and Bridges go to the schoolhouse to get the money but discover the building is gone. It has been replaced by a new school. "Progress, I guess," Clint says.

Two surviving members of the old gang, led by a brutal mug played by George Kennedy, eventually track down Clint and Bridges. They are ready to execute them when instead the four decide to try the old robbery a second time.

An elaborate caper ensues, featuring an extended scene with Bridges in drag. The robbery appears to be a success, but it unravels quickly. One robber is shot by cops. Kennedy decides to take the money himself, but first he knocks Clint unconscious and gives Bridges a savage beating. Kennedy ends up being eaten by a dog, which seems fair.

Luck turns better for Clint and Bridges when they happen upon the old schoolhouse and find it still contains money from the first robbery. The school was not torn down, as they assumed, but moved to become a historical museum.

A happy ending is not in the cards.

Bridges is still messed up from the beating given by George Kennedy. Trying to smoke a victory cigar in the front seat of a Cadillac convertible, Bridges starts speaking to Clint with half of his face, like a stroke victim. He dies right there in the Caddy. Clint throws away the cigar and drives on.

"That was incredibly sad," Andrew said.

Clint brought the star-power to the billing but it is impossible to watch the film and think of him as the main man. Other actors, including two previous and future Oscar winners, were more compelling. Kennedy was great playing the dangerous guy. Bridges received an Oscar nomination as best supporting actor for his kick-ass portrayal of Lightfoot. He lost out to Robert DeNiro in "Godfather II," so we won't argue with the academy on that call. Brief and quirky appearances by character actors like Dub Tayor and the guy who played the "Squeal Like a Pig" rapist in "Deliverance" make a big impression.

If Clint consciously allowed other actors to outshine him, he deserves credit. That's something few mega-stars do.

A real man does not allow himself to be pigeon-holed. Clint, in his later films, made that obvious. Now we get it.

Next up: "The Eiger Sanction."

"Magnum Force" and meeting the burdens of manly obligations

Title: Magnum Force
Released: 1973
Genre: Cop versus cop
Notable for: First of one too many "Dirty Harry" sequels
Coolest thing Clint does: Girl: "What does a girl have to do to go to bed with you?" Clint: "Try knocking on the door."

Right in the middle of watching the return of Dirty Harry Callahan in "Magnum Force," we were struck by a crisis of masculine obligations.

Candace, Brad's wife and Andrew's mother, came home, walked in the door and said, "Help."

The manly code says we are obligated to assist a woman who asks for help. But, for God's sake, Dirty Harry was on a rampage. Brad looked up from the screen. "Did you say help?" he asked. "Yes," she said, "there's something wrong with my car!"

Damn. Car trouble. The final holdover of what used to be called man stuff. Brad ran to the garage but Andrew kept watching "Magnum Force." He did not even hit the pause button out of courtesy. He knows the code well. You have to assist a woman in need, but not if someone else does first.

Less than two minutes passed before Brad returned, having fulfilled the age-old obligation of opening the hood and peering inside. "Your serpentine belt came off," he told Candace. "Did I miss any killings or boobs?" he asked Andrew.

Thus all laws of gender relations were fulfilled. Sometimes it's hard to be a man.

"Magnum Force" features the return of Dirty Harry without bothering to mention how Harry is a cop again. Clint threw his badge into a pond at the end of the first movie, before anyone realized a spree of sequels was coming.

Oh, well. Clint's fans didn't care and we don't either. "Magnum Force" is, again, a fast-paced series of unlikely action sequences but with a higher body count and more gratuitous nudity than the original. One walk-on homicide victim is a bimbo who takes off her bikini top at a pool party moments before she is blown away by the bad guys. Nice screenwriting there.


The story is pretty simple. A bunch of gangsters and lowlifes are blown away by motorcycle cops, and Clint uncovers a death squad of young hot-shots operating within the San Francisco Police Department. The only real surprise is his that Hal Holbrook, Clint's by-the-book superior officer, turns out to be the ring-leader.

The cast is full of future semi-stars including Robert Urich (Spenser: For Hire), David Soul (Hutch), and Tim Matheson. No matter how well Matheson played a killer cop, we could not look at him without seeing Otter from "Animal House," a movie made five years later. Toga!

Early in the original "Dirty Harry," Clint thwarts a bank robbery while eating a hot dog. In "Magnum Force," he thwarts an airplane hijacking while eating a hamburger. Both movies climax with a chase-slash-showdown in some sort of mining facility. "Magnum Force" also appears to try giving Clint a cool catch phrase. "A man's got to know his limitations" lacks the charm of "Do you feel lucky? Well, do you, punk?"

Despite that, "Magnum Force" clearly was intended to be different than the original. It tried, somewhat awkwardly, to put to rest the criticism that "Dirty Harry" was a fascist.

A death squad within the police department, as any fool can see, now those are some real fascists. And Harry fought them to the death. He turns down an invitation to join the death squad. "I am afraid you've misjudged me," Clint says to the bad guy on screen and to movie critics in the audience.

This stuff eventually produces what may be the longest and most ham-handed line Dirty Harry ever utters.

"I hate the goddam system," Clint tells Hal Holbrook. "But until someone comes along with some changes that make sense, I'll stick with it."

It seems silly that Clint felt the need to make sure everyone knows Dirty Harry is a true-blue American. But we guess he had his own manly obligations. When people call a guy a fascist, he must to do something to shut them up.

Next up: "Thunderbolt and Lightfoot."

"High Plains Drifter:" Sometimes weird is good, Duke

Title: High Plains Drifter
Released: 1973
Genre: Western ghost story
Notable for: Clint's first time directing a western
Coolest thing Clint does: Blasts three assholes from a barber chair

John Wayne was so disturbed by "High Plains Drifter" he sent a letter to Clint Eastwood complaining that the real west was nothing like the eerie and cruel place depicted in this movie. The real west was full of good people who pulled together to tame a wilderness, Wayne said. They were not cutthroats and cowards with no sense of decency.

To which we say: Who the hell cares?

"High Plains Drifter" was released when Brad was the same age Andrew is now. It immediately became his favorite Clint Eastwood movie and he is not sure that has ever changed. Andrew, for once, does not argue with his father on this point. "It's damn good," he says.

For starters, Clint's distinguished career of threatening grimaces, squints and low growls may have peaked in this film. He speaks every line in a menacing, hoarse half-whisper. No one messes with him without paying dearly. He humiliates, kills and rapes.

If we didn't like that stuff, this blog might be called "The Julie Andrews Project."

The thing John Wayne evidently could not appreciate is that Clint, who directed, did not try to make a story about the real West.

Our Netflix envelope credits "High Plains Drifter" for "existentialism." We're not exactly sure what that means, and we're too lazy to look it up. But we know Clint did a masterful job of using bleak visual images and eerie music to enhance a nightmarish and other-worldly story.


The film begins with Clint riding into a dreary town called Lago. He needs only a few minutes to kill three men who deserve it and rape a woman who likes it. We're pretty sure the rape scene -- or at least the part about the woman enjoying it -- would be too offensive to use in a movie today. But what are you going to do? This was made in 1973, not today.

Weird stuff begins right away. Clint, the ultimate mysterious stranger who will not tell anyone his name, has a dream about a man being whipped in a dusty street. It turns out the whole town has a dirty secret. Everyone stood by and watched as a former sheriff was whipped to death by goons hired by the local mining company.

The sheriff, in flashbacks, looks up through his dying eye at townspeople who do not lift a finger to help and says, "Damn you to hell." That's foreshadowing!

Town residents hire Clint to protect them from three desperadoes about to be released from territorial prison. These are the same three guys who whipped the sheriff to death. For some reason never made plain, the town framed all three on a robbery charge and now the killers want revenge.

Clint accepts the job on the condition that the town must give him anything he wants. He plunders the wares of merchants and makes a midget sheriff and mayor. He orders residents to paint every building bright red and renames the town Hell. He installs a banner welcoming the killers home and sets up a big table as if throwing a party.

At the end, Clint kills all three bad guys as the town burns down. Hell, indeed. As the last scumbag dies, he yells at Clint, "Who are you?"

That question is still treated with remarkable uncertainty. Richard Schickel, who has written extensively about Clint, contends his character's identity in "High Plains Drifter" remains a mystery. The New York Times overview (brace yourself, liberals) starts off by misquoting the ending of the film in a way that makes it more ambiguous.

Come on experts, this is no mystery.

In one scene, a woman says the murdered sheriff was buried in an unmarked grave. "They say the dead don't rest without a marker of some kind," she says.

In the final scene, the midget carves a grave marker.

"I never did know your name," he tells Clint. "Yes, you do," Clint says.

Then the camera focuses on the name on the grave marker. It's the name of the murdered sheriff. Clint rides away and literally disappears in the haze.

Those clues are obvious, not subtle. Clint is the ghost of the dead sheriff, come to bring justice to both the men who killed him and the town that let it happen.

It is a great film with the ultimate manly message that no bad deed goes unpunished. If John Wayne did not like it, that was his loss.

Next up: "Magnum Force."

"Joe Kidd:" The power of Clint Eastwood moments

Title: Joe Kidd
Released: 1972
Genre: Bloody-justice western
Notable for: Clint versus Robert Duvall in death struggle
Coolest thing Clint does: Too many to choose just one

Any male who enjoyed Clint Eastwood back in the days when his films were still more likely to feature apes than win Oscars must be a male who likes "Joe Kidd."

We imagine that during the creative process everyone got together and said, "Hey! Screw Elmore Leonard's script! Why don't we make a Clint Eastwood movie with lots of Clint Eastwood stuff that all Clint Eastwood fans will love!"

The result is a western with a loathsome villain played marvelously by Robert Duvall and Clint as a hero who knows how to do everything and is afraid of nothing.

The story is secondary to a string of what people now call "Clint Eastwood moments." Clint bashes a pan into a guy's face, he shoots a scumbag with a shotgun without looking up from his beer, he make an immediate move for Duvall's pet whore, he opens the door of a mission tower just at the right moment to make a bad guy fall to his death, he bashes another bad guy by swinging a clay pot from the tower, he single-handedly stops the execution of five innocent people, he plugs a guy with one shot from a long-range sniper rifle, he drives a train into a bar and opens fire, he blows Duvall away with a slight trace of a smile and he belts the town marshall in the jaw.

Reviewers were not impressed but we are incapable of disliking a film like that.


The film starts with Clint, dressed in funny-looking city dude clothes, in jail for small stuff -- poaching, disorderly conduct and resisting arrest. Taken to court, he chooses 10 days in jail over a $10 fine.

Quickly it is revealed that Clint is no city dude. He is a man with (as usual) a dangerous and somewhat mysterious past.

Duvall, a rich cattle baron, rides into town with a gang of homicidal psychopaths to hunt down and murder Luis Chama, rabble-rouser for Mexican property rights. Duvall knows Clint was once an expert man-hunter, whatever that means. He bails Clint out of jail and hires him to help track down Chama.

Clint first refuses, saying, "I haven't got anything against Luis Chama." He changes his mind when Chama's men mess with Clint's own ranch.

Quickly it becomes clear that Duvall is the real villain, not Chama. Duvall is a prick who orders everyone around, including hotel keepers and the town marshall. One great touch is the way Duvall consistently mispronounces Chama's name. Either intentionally or ignorantly, he's so arrogant he fails to know his enemy.

Duvall's role in "Joe Kidd" is not the most famous in his career, or even the year 1972. But he is an actor who always plays one great cowboy.

Once he believes he has the upper hand on Chama, Duvall double-crosses Clint and takes him captive. This is a major mistake.

Clint eventually kills all the bad guys and convinces Chama to give himself up, trusting the courts to settle his land grievances.

Leaving aside some highly unlikely action sequences -- like the train that just happens to be all warmed up and empty, sitting in a spot where the tracks just happen to end outside a bar where the bad guys hang out, and Clint just happens to know how to drive a train -- the plot takes some dumb twists to make Clint a supporter of Mexican land rights.

Duvall inexplicably "fires" Clint and takes him captive even though he knows he is a dangerous man. We can imagine Duvall might try to screw him on money later, but his character is arrogant, not stupid. He would not make Clint an active enemy before the killing is finished.

It makes even less sense when Clint urges Chama to give himself up and fight his case in court. Clint was in jail at the start of the movie for attempting to piss on the courthouse. He does not seem to be a man with great faith in the justice system.

Oh well. The Clint Eastwood moments are what make the film.

Note to Clint's people: Eastwood has made several sequels in his career, but never a sequel to one of his westerns. It's not too late, dudes.

Josey Wales would make a good sequel but Joe Kidd would be better. That character is less defined, thus more flexible. Joe Kidd's time had mostly passed when the original film was made. His man-hunting days were over and he was trying, with mixed success, to fit into a more civilized society. Today Clint could play Joe Kidd in about 1930, trying to cope with a completely changed world. The possibilities are rich.

Just a thought.

The manly appeal of "Joe Kidd" is obvious. Clint can take charge of any situation without fear and with certain success. No one is like that in real life, but it is fun to imagine. This the distilled essence of Clint's appeal to male audiences. No one ever needs to tell him to man up.

Next up: "High Plains Drifter."

"Dirty Harry:" The thing about fascists

Title: Dirty Harry
Released: 1971
Genre: Rogue cop story
Notable for: Taking Clint from star to icon
Coolest thing Clint does: Do you feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?

A certain segment of movie critics squirted a big stain on Clint's career by calling "Dirty Harry" a fascist film.

Our guess is many of these critics were motivated by resentment because they spent the better part of a decade dismissing Clint as a bad actor who made bad films that appealed to stupid audiences. "Dirty Harry" instantly transformed Clint into something bigger than a movie star.

The movie had such cultural impact that in Brad's day, perhaps half the young males alive could recite Clint's speech about the .44 magnum being the most powerful handgun in the world. If a buddy tried to take a man's last beer, or commit some equally objectionable offense, there was a good chance the man would warn him off by saying, "Do you feel lucky, punk?" That wasn't even the real line from the film, but, like "Play it again, Sam," it should have been.

"Dirty Harry" is first and foremost a great cop story with lots of action. Harry kicks major ass. Scorpio, the villain, is so weirdly evil he is almost a comic-book character, but that's OK.


The main storyline follows Clint's pursuit of Scorpio, a demented serial killer who tries to blackmail the city of San Francisco into paying him. Eventually the gutless mayor wants to pay. Clint, a homicide cop, surmises Scorpio will never stop killing because he enjoys it too much.

Along the way, Clint stumbles into random situations like a bank robbery and a suicide attempt. Humor is thrown in, like the famous early scene where Clint keeps munching a hot dog during a shootout with the bank robbers.

Dirty Harry Callahan is not a sensitive cop. For one of many examples, he prevents the potential suicide by explaining to the guy what a mess he'll make -- arms and legs everywhere -- after he jumps off a ledge. He is disgusted to learn his new partner, Chico, has a sociology degree. It is fair to say Dirty Harry was politically incorrect years before the term was invented, but that's a far cry from fascism.

The fascist charge was perhaps based partly on a false premise that Dirty Harry is a racist. Early on, a fellow cop explains that Callahan hates everyone equally -- and then he elaborates with a long list of racial slurs to describe all the people Harry hates. But Clint never uses any slurs except when he calls Chico a "spick," and that seemed a test to see how he would react. He really does treat everyone equally.

The main evidence cited for fascism is Dirty Harry ignores constitutional protections like Miranda warnings, search warrants and the right to an attorney in his pursuit of Scorpio. By the end, Callahan violates direct orders to stop "harassing" Scorpio.

If the movie deserves criticism on this political ground, the real offense was making the law-enforcement system appear neutered by its concern for the rights of the accused. After Clint catches Scorpio, a prosecutor and judge lecture Harry for violating his rights. They say Clint contaminated all the evidence with illegal police methods so Scorpio is released. "I couldn't convict him of spitting on the sidewalk," the judge says.

This is bullshit.

For one thing, Scorpio shot Chico, a crime worse than spitting on a sidewalk, and Clint contaminated no evidence in that case. More importantly, anyone who knows anything about the American justice system knows no cop-shooting serial killer would have been released in 1971 (or now), even if excuses for police misconduct had to be, shall we say, fashioned imaginatively.

The worst thing Clint does to Scorpio is step on a wound to force him to reveal where a young girl was buried alive. The prosecutor calls this "torture" but in real life damn few prosecutors would refuse to look the other way under those circumstances.

Dirty Harry did none of those things for the sheer thrill of applying police force. He did it to stop Scorpio, with or without search warrants or the blessing of his bosses.

In the final scene, Callahan even resigns from the police state by throwing his badge away, clearly unaware four sequels were coming.

Stupid audiences grasped the true lesson of "Dirty Harry:" A real man is guided by his sense of right and wrong, not orders from above.

That, as the records from Nuremberg show, is the opposite of a fascist.

Next up: "Joe Kidd."

"Play Misty for Me" and the invention of the homicidal psycho-stalker bitch

Title: Play Misty for Me
Released: 1971
Genre: Knife-wielding psychotic suspense
Notable for: Clint's directorial debut
Coolest thing Clint does: Face-punches deranged chick through a window and over a cliff

Three-quarters of the way through "Play Misty for Me," serious analysis was suspended for a bitter fashion dispute that separates men from boys.

It happened when Clint was chased from bed in his underwear by a knife-wielding stalker. He wore white cotton briefs. You could almost see grapes and apples on the elastic waistband.

"Haa!" Andrew snorted. "Tighty-whities are for wuss bags."

It made no sense to counter by pointing out that in 1971 every man wore briefs. It made no sense to explain that until the Bill Clinton administration, when the annoying question "boxers or briefs?" was invented, society assumed no men wore boxer shorts. It made no sense to develop well-reasoned arguments.

"Pussies wear boxers," Brad said.

"You can't be serious, old man," Andrew said. "Tighty-whities are ridiculous. No one younger than, like, 80 wears them."

"Do you know what's ridiculous?" Brad asked. "It's ridiculous that any man can wear boxer shorts four inches higher than his pants without realizing only a pussy wants other people to see his underwear. What kind of man even cares about underwear? A metro-sexual wanna-be gay guy, that's what kind."

"Make sure we put this in the blog so everyone can realize how old and stupid you really are," Andrew said.

Done and done!

The movie itself was received more enthusiastically in our living room. It is the first Clint Eastwood suspense film, and we say he pulled it off well.

"Play Misty for Me" was first received by critics as a mediocre attempt at Hitchcockism, but its reputation has grown over time. It is now often credited for inventing the "Fatal Attraction" genre. Jessica Walter's marvelous portrayal of the spurned lover turned psycho-stalker reminded Andrew of Kathy Bates in "Misery." Bates won an Oscar and she had nothing on Walters in the scary-freak department.


The storyline is simple.

Clint plays a radio disc jockey and Walter is a big fan. After a couple romps of what Clint believes is meaningless sex, Walters shows herself to be deranged. She gets weirder and weirder until, inevitably, she tries to kill Clint and the woman he really loves.

By his measure, Clint's character is a wimp. After Walter ransacks his house and nearly kills his housekeeper, he never even gets a gun, for God's sake.

On the surface, this is similar to "The Beguiled" because Clint is attacked by a woman scorned. But it is a far more conventional film. In "Play Misty for Me," Clint does nothing to deserve retribution. He even tries to turn down sex with Walter when he meets her, saying he does not want to "complicate my life,"

"Neither do I," Walter responds, "but that's no reason why we shouldn't sleep together tonight."

Well, what do you expect a man to do? Clint is clearly the good guy and the good guy wins in the end.

"Play Misty for Me" was the first film Clint directed, and we have just two quibbles. The movie is set in Carmel, California, the town where Clint lived and was later elected mayor, and it includes an interlude at the Monterey Jazz Festival with no apparent point except to impress the Chamber of Commerce. Also, Clint interrupted the flow of his suspense story with a prolonged love sequence set to the entire song "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face." Except for the side-boob shots, we found this sappy. But it launched singer Roberta Flack to stardom, so maybe we are wrong.

Walter was marvelous, but one point should be made about the character-type she invented: The murderous psycho-bitch is big in movies, not real life.

Men share stories about nutty ex-lovers, but usually they involve acts like cutting up his underwear (boxers or briefs) and decorating her Christmas tree with the shreds. When real-life love leads to murder -- especially murder-suicide -- it is almost always the man who turns homicidal.

Still, Clint's message for manhood is pretty obvious here. Watch out where you take your pleasure, boys, because some of these ladies are crazy.

Next up (drum roll, please): "Dirty Harry."