The dustbins of art history are overflowing with motley objects. One of them, always by a small miracle, was rescued by a movie library rat and thrown into the dust, and then it had to be reconsidered what very few people believed: an object of admiration. This is what happened The guilty spectator (“Guilty Observer”) by Joseph Lerner. The film was filmed in New York at sixteen millimeters, and was screened on April 20, 1950, despite being distorted by small tight black, odd. Its Hero Detective Max came out of a series of thrillers signed by Wade Miller on Thursday, both nicknamed Robert Wade and Bill Miller, based in San Diego, and will adapt to a novel by Orson Welles Thirst for evil (1957).
Detective Max Thursday, nicknamed Robert Wade and Bill Miller, from a thriller series by Wade Miller
Only the openness testifies to the qualities of the film. In a taxi twilight a beautiful woman – between Foy Dunway and Marth Keller – types in front of the Riverview Hotel, an awkward place unwelcome by the landlord, an old witch, typing a cardboard box with a suspicious wall. In fact, Georgia – the name of a handsome stranger – is hastily sent to see her ex-husband, an old hotel detective hired against a former liquor police, room, board and especially a few bottles of alcohol.
Max was a “dark” tall, dark-haired man with a mustache, many “ex” for Thursday, when we find him with his natural elegance, hairless and unmovable, crushed undershirt, sleeping on his alcohol bed. To get him out of this situation, it takes a little more than the woman’s frustration – “I wish”, “So what? The whole world is in despair!” –, Their boy, Jeff may have gone missing. There is this moment, rising from the sticky depths of the genre, this horrible and harsh idea: the father asks his ex-wife for a photo of their son, uncertain of not being able to recognize him.
Such sponsorships address a number of challenges. That is the trial. Redemption of the broken man. Recovering a family. In other words, four Thursdays a week for Max, he will prove that Marlowe is kind of bad. The suspect plots with a doctor’s impersonator and Thea, poisons him and knocks on a police station where his ex-colleagues hate him, passing thugs who have a plum with him when he touches the target. Whatever. This string that actually engages in diamond smuggling becomes obscure as we progress, and we quickly apply the notion that the essential is undoubtedly nowhere else.
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