go back to "Sorry Wrong Number." it's her big scene. suddenly a sound. it isn't vibrating. it isn't the opening chords of a pop tune. it's loud. it's clear. it's a telephone.
film freezes time. I love the now the new. but as I approach my last act there's a comfort that comes from the past. when I hear telephones or see runningboards or experience any number of adventures obliterartd by technology I almost tingle.