The other sci-fi film of any import in 1980 (the first being a little movie called The Empire Strikes Back). If anything, its psyche-bending, peyote and pure science mashup heightened the genre.
This and Tommy were my fledgling filmmaking mind’s intro to visually idiosyncratic director Ken Russell, who passed on to the great sensory deprivation tank in the sky last week.
Who hasn’t read Bil Keane’s strip? Condolences to Bil, Thel, Billy, Dolly, Jeffy and P.J.

(Image via Familycircus.com)
“Na Na Hey Hey (Kiss Him Goodbye)” - Steam
The sports world loses another great. R.I.P, producer/songwriter Paul Leka.
“North Dallas Forty” is on my all-time fave football films short list, and #2 behind “The Longest Yard” for 1970’s gridiron flicks.
Its story occupies the darker spaces between the play calls and press conferences. Prescient in its portrayal of the debilitating injuries suffered by players, and the lengths they’ll go to stay in the game.
I don’t recall ever watching Arness’ TV claim to fame, Gunsmoke — even though it was on-air for 20 years — but Them! and The Thing from Another World are first-ballot enshrined in my 50s Horror/Sci-Fi Hall of Fame.


Important films? Uh, yeah. Want to know what life in New York City is about, watch Lumet’s work.
Exploration of the human condition… unconditionally.
Yeah, you got your Jolie, Johansson and Biels et al, and they’re hot and all. But for sheer, timeless Hollywood glamour…?
Damn.
Damn.
Rick Martin, along with fellow Quebec countrymen Gilbert Perreault (Center) and Rene Robert (Right Winger), carved up the ice and Sabres’ opponents during the 1970s.
And if it weren’t for those goddamned Flyers in ‘75, he’d have passed on as a Stanley Cup winner. Sill bitter…? Nah.
Rest in Puck, Rico.
“Jailbreak” - Thin Lizzy (1978)
An afterlife shout out to Gary Moore, who recently made the great chord progression to the sky. Yeah, I know he didn’t play on the original recording of this – my favorite Thin Lizzy cut – but he shreds on this live perf.
Ah, memories of listening to new record releases on friends’ basement turntables, with Spencer’s Gifts black light posters and the lingering aroma of cheap, Saturday night incense and stale, beer-soaked shag carpeting.