when spies meet

George Lazenby and Michael Caine, in their element, drinks in hand, beards on face.

R.I.P.

This one is also from the heart. If you love DePalma (and if you don't, you can do what Ted Nugent instructs those who feel like gettin' mellow to do on Double Live Gonzo...so there!) then you love William Finley. I, in particular, am deeply obsessed and given to The Phantom of the Paradise and have been for as long as I was able to get CityTV on the dial. I had a goldfish I won from the local fair named Winslow...shit like that. So, it is with great sadness that I have learned of his death this weekend. But, with that, there are many, many memories of great and genuine joy either associated with many facets of my life where it has popped up literally or in my mind or that I have had while watching the film, listening to the songs and talking with other lifelong fans or friends about how terrific it is. And Finley was my man and when he sits (as Leach) at that piano and does his audition! Wow! Then I'm in and there for the rest of the movie.