"The Greatest Moments in Seventies Movies" Yes, it was a tacky decade, filled with leisure suits, toe socks, and shag carpets. But as far as movies were concerned, the '70s were a golden age of good taste. With the studio system apparently gasping its last gasp, a new breed of maverick directors -- with names like Scorsese, Coppola, Mazursky, and Polanski -- found themselves enjoying unprecedented creative freedom. For the the first time, truly adult material was making its way on screen, with movies about grown-ups. Of course, it was also the decade that invented the Event Movie (ground zero being Steven Spielberg's Jaws), but then, that's a story for the next decade... - Mark Harris ________________________________________________________________________ April 7, 1970: Midnight Cowboy and True Grit duke it out A new breed of cowboy was taking over, and John Wayne was none too happy. These were the hippie desperadoes like Easy Rider's Dennis Hopper, who, on Oscar night, sat in front of Wayne in an irreverent, oversize Stetson. The counterculture was revitalizing Hollywood, and although Wayne beat Cowboy's Dustin Hoffman and Jon Voight for Best Actor, that night Best Picture went to Cowboy, John Schlesinger's X-rated male-hustler opus. For Schlesinger, who'd encountered resistance within his own production crew ("They were very disparaging of the film," he says), the victory was especially vindicating. ________________________________________________________________________ July 2, 1971: Shaft breaks the color barrier Racial strife was news, MGM was in trouble -- only a cat like John Shaft could save the day. With a cool lead in Richard Roundtree and an Oscar-winning song by Isaac Hayes, Shaft ushered in blaxploitation and the image of the African- American superman. "It was the first time a black man was in charge -- that appealed to a large audience," says Roundtree, who thinks the subsequent hand- wringing ("Black Movie Boom -- Good or Bad?" The New York Times asked) was silly. "Fred Williamson [Black Caesar] once said, 'I make films that are to the point: I hit someone and knock them down. Everybody understands that.'" But to Roundtree, Shaft's big score was that suddenly "on TV, white guys were wearing leather and mustaches." ________________________________________________________________________ Dec. 19, 1971: "Singin'" turns ecstasy into evil in A Clockwork Orange Is there any movie moment that perverts joy into revulsion like the "Singin' in the Rain" rape scene in A Clockwork Orange? "Our script said nothing more than 'He kicks her and generally causes mayhem,'" recalls Malcolm McDowell, who starred as "droog" Alex. "I had to do so much kicking because Stanley [Kubrick] wanted the people to fall backwards perfectly. After a week, when we were about to give up, he said, 'Gee, Malc, can you dance?" So I wound up improvising exactly what you see. Stanley phoned New York and bought the rights [to the song]. That was his real strength -- he was willing to wait." But why did McDowell have Gene Kelly on his mind? "When Alex is raping," he says, "he's at his most euphoric. 'Singin' in the Rain' is Hollywood's most euphoric moment." ________________________________________________________________________ Dec. 22, 1971: Clint Eastwood gets down and Dirty Harry When it was released, critics carped that Dirty Harry was a fascist, neoconservative manifesto. They weren't too far off, but the movie's signature scene, in which Eastwood's .44 Magnum-wielding Det. Harry Callahan toys with a hapless African-American robber -- "You've gotta ask yourself one question: Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?" -- stands as one of the great moments in cop films, though rife with racial and political overtones. Actually, Harry's director, the late Don Siegel, was a liberal -- with a perverse sense of humor. "He was a rascal, having Callahan going after a bank robber who happens to be black," chuckles Lalo Schifrin, who scored the film. "Today, they wouldn't do that, but [Siegel] loved to be provocative." ________________________________________________________________________ March 15, 1972: Francis Ford Coppola's family jewel, The Godfather The wedding. The horse's head. The "I believe in America" speech. Don Corleone's wheezing collapse in the garden. Sonny's tollbooth dance of death. Coppola's The Godfather is such a compendium of magnificent scenes, such an encyclopedia of killer dialogue, sumptuous settings, and mighty acting, that it's impossible to whittle the magnum opus down to one moment. The moment is the movie -- its existence a triumph of art and commerce. Calling it a Mob movie is like calling The Odyssey a guide to the Greek islands. "It's all about honor and loyalty and family," explains James Caan, best known as ramrod Sonny Corleone. The Godfather cast felt like a family; on the set, everybody eased into a Cosa Nostra hierarchy. Caan, Al Pacino, and Robert Duvall bonded like brothers. And nobody doubted who was the Don. "Every now and then, Marlon Brando walked by," says Diane Keaton, "and it was like you were looking at a god." Forever after, Ozzie and Harriet would sleep with the fishes: The Corleones became America's first family. "I have friends who still have Godfather nights twice a year," Caan marvels. "They make pasta and the whole family watches The Godfather. It's nice to be a part of that." ________________________________________________________________________ Dec. 12, 1972: The Poisedon Adventure makes catastrophe trendy Long before Titanic and Speed 2 set sail, there was this cruise from hell. Grossing a then-staggering $93 million. The Poisedon Adventure was the original supertanker of disaster films, and the thrilling/campy apex of the trend that ran from 1970's Airport through 1974's The Towering Inferno. "It was a rather scary shoot, always being covered in oil and going through rooms on fire," says Oscar-nominated Shelley Winters, whose zaftig Jewish grandma, Belle Rosen, saved the day (but not herself) with an underwater rescue. "I was supposed to swim to where Gene [Hackman] was trapped, release him, and push him to the escape hatch. But I took my time and when he came up, he screamed, 'You tried to drown me!'" ________________________________________________________________________ Aug. 1, 1973: American Graffiti launches nostalgia -- and careers The tag line read, "Where were you in '62?" But '73 marked ground zero for the ensemble cast of Graffiti, since that was the year Candy Clark, Cindy Williams, Richard Dreyfuss, Mackenzie Phillips, Paul Le Mat, and Harrison Ford -- all unknowns -- went over very, very big in George Lucas' paean to teen hot-rodding, the movie that began a nostalgia craze that lives on. "The only person with any kind of name was Ronny Howard," says casting director Fred Roos of the ex-child star then known to the world only as Opie. "And The Andy Griffith Show had been off the air two, three years. He was nowhere." From here on, the whole group racked up career mileage at top speed. ________________________________________________________________________ Dec. 26, 1973: The devil goes into heavy rotation in The Exorcist It's one thing to stretch as an actress; it's quite another to perfect a 360- degree head swivel. But 14-year-old Linda Blair's self-possession as the bedeviled Regan MacNeil earned her a Best Supporting Actress nomination from the Academy and gasps from audience members who watched her turn (and turn) in a movie that's still unparalleled in its ability to terrify. As for the ever- present green vomit, "they went through a variety of different formulas and brews looking for the right color and texture before they came up with using pea soup," says Blair. "I wold look in the mirror and just whine, 'Why are they making me look like a monster? I want to be a princess.'" How about a scream queen? ________________________________________________________________________ Feb. 7, 1974: Blazing Saddles lets it rip When Mel Brooks decided that what Hollywood really needed was a dose of baked beans, the result was a fragrant campfire scene in Blazing Saddles, a prototype for the kind of movie that continues to stink its way to box office success. Brooks could be elegant too -- this article wouldn't be complete without a mention of his spectacular '74 horror spoof Young Frankenstein -- but it was Saddles' bodily blasts that ignited, no pun intended, a generation of gross-out movies. "The amazing thing is that the scene was less than a page of script," says Andrew Bergman, who cowrote Saddles. "All it said was 'Cowboys eating beans around a campfire. Loud farting ensues.' Mel did the rest. ________________________________________________________________________ June 20, 1974: Faye Dunaway finds darkness on the edge of Chinatown It may have looked like a simple neo-noir detective story, but Chinatown was one of the most subversively perverse films ever lensed. When Dunaway delivered screenwriter Robert Towne's most wrenching line -- "She's my sister... she's my daughter" -- audiences were left as stunned as Jack Nicholson after his involuntary nose job. What audiences didn't see, though became almost as famous: the behind-the-scenes brawl between Dunaway and director Roman Polanski. Recalls Nicholson of the hair-trigger feud: "Faye had a flying hair, and Roman reached out and plucked it. Why this incident set everybody off, I don't know. But it was nothing deeper than that." ________________________________________________________________________ Nov. 11, 1974: Al Pacino delivers the kiss of death in Godfather II From the re-creation of a turn-of-the-century Lower East Side that gave mainstream America its first look at Robert De Niro to the immaculately plotted split narrative, the amazing thing was, they did it again. And above it all was Pacino's tumble into fratricidal evil -- pounded home by a flashback coda. "When they wanted [Brando] to come back to do that scene, he said under one condition: Fire the head of the studio!" says James Caan, who was paid the same amount for the final sequence ($35,000) as for the entire first film. "That's why we used his shadow. Swear to God." Even without Brando or the first film's grosses, The Godfather Part II -- the only sequel to win Best Picture -- stands alongside its predecessor as a masterwork. ________________________________________________________________________ June 11, 1975: Robert Altman's Nashville introduces the company of many When someone uses "Altmanesque," it's usually Nashville they have in mind. With 24 characters, interweaving story lines, and aspirations toward tragedy and satire, Altman's Nashville wrote the book on sprawling ensemble pieces. It was about movieland as much as Music City, and its dovetailing of proto-Clintonian politics and entertainment was spookily prescient. "Contrary to popular belief, there was a script," says writer Joan Tewkesbury. "But everybody was invited to bring something, like potluck." Ronee Blakley's breakdown and Lily Tomlin's sign-language emoting were main course enough to earn them Oscar noms, but Tewkesbury's favorite improv was Gwen Welles' ill-prepared striptease: "When she pulled the socks out of her bra, I thought I'd die -- it was so poignant, so dumb, so absolutely believable." ________________________________________________________________________ June 20, 1975: Steven Spielberg accidentally brings great white hope in Jaws If it weren't for a little filmmaking phenomenon known as "the happy accident," Spielberg might still be directing episodes of Columbo. In fact, the making of Jaws remains a primer on how not to make a movie: The film's $4 million budget soared to $9 million; the shooting schedule on Martha's Vineyard ballooned from 55 to 159 days; crew members were even calling the movie "Flaws." Worst of all, Bruce -- Spielberg's mechanical great white shark -- just wasn't working. "The first time we tested the shark," says coproducer David Brown, "it sank to the bottom of Nantucket Sound, and we figured all of our careers went down with it." In hindsight, Spielberg says that being forced to show as little of his malfunctioning man-eater as possible made the movie more Hitchcockian. Of course, no one knew that at the time. Says Brown, "When we held a test screening in Dallas, we honestly didn't know if people were going to be scared or laugh." It was the former reaction -- and plenty of it -- that turned Jaws into the highest-grossing film in history (until Star Wars). ________________________________________________________________________ Nov. 19, 1975: Jack Nicholson feathers his Cuckoo's Nest Who could blame the cast of Milos Forman's One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest for going a little stir-crazy? "We spent days in the Oregon State Mental Institution," says Nicholson. As McMurphy, the charming rabble-rouser who winds up in the loony bin, Nicholson cooked up a psychological duel with one of movie history's creepiest monsters: Louise Fletcher's icy, repressive Nurse Ratched. The unforgettable climax? Pushed to the brink, Nicholson throttles his evil caregiver till she turns blue. For both actors -- Fletcher, a first-time nominee; Nicholson, a four-time loser -- Oscar was in the bag. Says Nicholson: "I pretty much knew I was going to win." ________________________________________________________________________ Feb. 8, 1976: Robert De Niro is hailed in Taxi Driver The mean streets of 1970s New York hardly seem recognizable in today's G-rated Giuliani era. But when Taxi Driver debuted at Manhattan's Coronet Theater, Gotham audiences took one look at Martin Scorcese's neon Sodom and Gomorrah and recognized it as their own. And coasting into this apocalypse was De Niro's self-appointed vigilante loner Travis Bickle, a Vietnam vet vowing that "some day a real rain'll come and wash all this scum off the streets." Of course, the movie's -- and perhaps the decade's -- most famous line was Travis' paranoid "You talkin' to me?" mantra in front of the mirror. But according to Taxi Driver screenwriter Paul Schrader, the infamous come-on was ad-libbed by De Niro: "There was a comic who worked the delis in New York at the time, and he would walk up to tables and say, 'You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me?' And Bobby had seen this guy and lifted the riff and used it in front of the mirror." Our thanks to the unknown comic, wherever he is. ________________________________________________________________________ Nov. 14, 1976: Network's newscaster Peter Finch sees the light By the mid-'70s, plenty of films had taken potshots at Hollywood. But vivisecting the TV jungle was fresh. And in those pre-cable, pre-Fox, pre-Jerry Springer days, so was screenwriter Paddy Chayefsky's nightmarish vision of a pandering news program scored with variety-show music and hosted by profanity- spewing anchor Howard Beale (brilliantly acted by Peter Finch, who died of a heart attack before he could accept his Academy Award). Though a surprise hit and quadruple Oscar winner, Network didn't much impress veteran 60 Minutes exec producer Don Hewitt. "I don't know of any great impact it had," he sniffs. "Aside from my saying on occasion 'I'm mad as hell and I'm not gonna take it anymore." ________________________________________________________________________ Nov. 21, 1976: Sylvester Stallone's Rocky loses His face bleeding, his eyes swollen shut, Rocky Balboa will forever be the emblem of pained defeat. It defied all logic to permit a film's hero to lose so brutally. But all that mattered to audiences was that Rocky went the distance, got the girl ("Yo, Adrian!"), and turned Sylvester Stallone, an unknown actor and first-time screenwriter, into a real-life champ. Of course, Stallone's self- choreographed bouts weren't the toughest battles. With a starless cast, the indie film's budget was so tight, Stallone's then wife, Sasha, sewed his costumes. "I bought my own glasses and the fuzzy hat," recalls Rocky's true love, Talia Shire. "That's what made it special. We were willing to do anything to make the film work." ________________________________________________________________________ April 10, 1977: Woody Allen and Diane Keaton deck the Hall With Annie Hall, Woody Allen sabotaged the romantic comedy -- and came up with something a lot funnier and more romantic. "I knew it was a fantastic part," recalls star Diane Keaton, whose elegant tomboy style made her the Me Decade's Katharine Hepburn. "But I don't think I visualized how inventive it was -- till I saw it, of course." The creative coup de grace: Allen and Keaton swap neurotic chitchat while a series of subtitles reveals what they're really thinking about each other (Woody: "I wonder what she looks like naked?). For a brief moment, brains and whimsy prevailed: Annie beat out Star Wars for Best Picture. ________________________________________________________________________ May 25, 1977: Star Wars' F/X blasts other movies to smithereens The music he liked. But everything else in Star Wars was "completely cheated," says George Lucas ruefully. "The only way I was able to make it in any sense epic was editorially. I cut together a lot of little pieces so fast, you thought there were a whole lot of people. There weren't." Poor master magician George: He saw crummy smoke and mirrors where the rest of the world saw bona fide magic. Audiences didn't give a gundark that the hopped-up torque of the blaster-spattered space-battle scenes was a desperation move. They just got off on speed. So did Hollywood when the early grosses rolled in: $100 million in three months (quaint now, hyperspatial then). The dark side? A stampede toward feel-good, dumbed-down action flicks that wiped out grittier fare, at least until indies rematerialized a decade later. Lucas bristles at that rap: "It's a myth," he insists. But he shouldn't underestimate the power of the Force. ________________________________________________________________________ Oct. 20, 1977: Magnetic Video releases the first movies on tape It all started in Farmington Hills, Mich. Mesmerized by an oversize doohickey called the VCR, Andre Blay persuaded Twentieth Century Fox to license 50 films to his company, Magnetic Video Corp., for the paltry sum of $300,000. The rest is history. Video demand soared (M*A*S*H was Magnetic's most popular title), the words "rewind" and "pause" seeped into the vernacular, and a $17 billion industry was born -- incalculably altering the way people watched movies in the process. "I kept telling my employees that when Mummy and Daddy start stopping to pick up a movie after work, they could start planning their retirement," says Blay, who eventually sold his company to Fox and is now retired. "And it happened." ________________________________________________________________________ Nov. 16, 1977/May 25, 1979: Close Encounters and Alien define the look of extraterrestrials Something is out there -- but is it friend or foe? The late '70s brought us two unforgettable possibilities. Species Spielberg -- bulbous heads on Audrey Hepburn necks -- were actually little girls in body-warping suits. Species Scott -- spawned from some unholy shark-cockroach copulation -- was designed by Swiss artist H.R. Giger. Alien director Ridley Scott was also inspired by a documentary about beetles that bury their eggs in live woodgrubs. "Hideous," he says, "but a great idea." Since then, descendants of both have populated Men In Black, Independence Day, and The X-Files. "When you're looking into the bigger alien mythology," says Files creator Chris Carter, "you have to bow to what others have imagined." ________________________________________________________________________ Dec. 16, 1977: John Travolta gives us the Saturday Night Fever Disco was never louder or prouder, polyester pants never whiter or tighter. When Tony Manero took the stage to "You Should Be Dancing," a young Brooklyn man transcended his limitations, dance music turned into a national craze -- and a 23-year-old Englewood, N.J., actor named John Travolta became a star. To prepare for Saturday Night Fever, Travolta hit New York clubs with instructor Deney Terrio (who would go on to host the series Dance Fever). Though he would spend 300 hours rehearsing, Travolta was initially spooked. "He called me and said, 'You guys better find someone else for the movie, because there's no way I'm going to be able to do those steps," director John Badham remembers. "I just tried to calm him down." Travolta, it turns out, just heated us up. ________________________________________________________________________ July 28, 1978: John Belushi shares his food in Animal House It took just five seconds. Belushi yelled "Fooood fight!" and everyone on the set of National Lampoon's Animal House tossed their cookies... and pudding, fries, etc. The scene wrapped in two takes, but, as set decorator Hal Gausman recalls, "it took hours to clean up." It was worth it. "The movie had a huge impact," says coproducer Ivan Reitman. "We'd come through a decade of protests and campus activism. That scene was a signal to have fun again." Belushi's charisma certainly helped. As director John Landis puts it, Bluto Blutarsky "was a cross between Harpo Marx and the Cookie Monster." ________________________________________________________________________ June 1979: The Weinsteins form Miramax and unleash the indie era It's such a fairy tale, it would almost make a perfect Hollywood movie... or rather, a perfect low-budget indie. Once upon a time, a pair of unfashionable rock-promoter brothers from Queens, N.Y., got the idea to distribute movies. Armed with business cards for a company named after parents Miriam and Max, Harvey and Bob Weinstein hopped a plane to Cannes because, says Harvey, "that's were we heard people bought movies!" The bought the Brit comedy The Secret Policeman's Ball and its sequel for $50,000, spliced the two films, released it six months later -- and grossed $6 million. The happy ending? Says Harvey, "I haven't needed a business card in 10 years." ________________________________________________________________________ Aug. 15, 1979: Robert Duvall loves the smell of napalm in the morning in Apocalypse Now It may be as close as a movie production has come to the heart of darkness. Apocalypse Now was over budget and behind schedule, and director Francis Ford Coppola couldn't afford screwups. Still, he needed the famous scene in which Lieut. Colonel Kilgore (masterfully played by Duvall) clears a beach with napalm so he can watch a GI surf its waves -- a moment that epitomizes the brutality, beauty, and terror of Vietnam. "If we messed up," Coppola says, "we'd have to spend three or four hours for a second chance and we could only do two takes. We started, rolling about five cameras. The jets appeared, the canisters dropped, the napalm went off. After that I felt we'd reached a turning point, and things would go better." ________________________________________________________________________ Dec. 19, 1979: Kramer Vs. Kramer does divorce American-style No other movie more encapsulated the romantic reality of a decade in which the divorce rate was higher than ever before. Still, Kramer, which won Oscars for stars Dustin Hoffman and Meryl Streep -- a second choice after Charlie's Angels' Kate Jackson -- was less about the heartache of a breakup than about the joy and pain of single fatherhood. Not to mention the embarrassing moments. It took three takes to do the scene in which Hoffman's son (Justin Henry) encounters Dad's overnight guest (JoBeth Williams) nude in the hallway. "First the lighting was wrong. Then I misdirected," recalls director Robert Benton. "It was tough telling her 'You have to take your clothes off again.'" ________________________________________________________________________ BEST OF THE REST Best on-screen nervous breakdown (male): Peter Finch in Network; (female): Gena Rowlands in A Woman Under the Influence Best off-screen nervous breakdown: Francis Ford Coppola on the set of Apocalypse Now Best aristocrat: Edward Fox in The Day of the Jackal Best twist ending: The Taking of Pelham One Two Three Best debacle: New York, New York Best date movie: Love Story Best movie if you can't get a date: Carrie Best wild-party scene: National Lampoon's Animal House Best unsung performance: James Caan in The Gambler Best couple (off screen): Warren Beatty and Julie Christie; (on screen): Woody Allen and Diane Keaton Best closing credits: M*A*S*H Best Western: High Plains Drifter Best place we wish we lived: The Lake Tahoe compound in Godfather II Best dad: Robert Duvall in The Great Santini Best mom: Cicely Tyson in Sounder ________________________________________________________________________ BEST LINES 1. "I like to watch." - Peter Sellers (Being There) 2. "I know it was you, Fredo. You broke my heart." - Al Pacino (The Godfather Part II) 3. "Attica!, Attica!" - Al Pacino (Dog Day Afternoon) 4. "Oh, stewardess -- I speak jive." - Barbara Billingsley (Airplane!) 5. "You know what happens to nosy fellas, huh? Huh? Okay. They lose their noses." - Roman Polanski (Chinatown) 6. "Hey, don't knock masturbation. It's sex with someone I love." - Woody Allen (Annie Hall) 7. "Now, I want you to remember that no bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his country." - George C. Scott (Patton) 8. "You're gonna need a bigger boat." - Roy Scheider (Jaws) 9. "Say it! He... vas... my... boyfriend!" - Cloris Leachman (Young Frankenstein) 10. "The suspense is terrible. I hope it'll last." - Gene Wilder (Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory) 11. "Is it safe?" - Laurence Oliver (Marathon Man) 12. "You're mother's here, Karras. Would you like a to leave a message? I'll see that she gets it!" - Linda Blair (The Exorcist) 13. "Oh, Frank... kiss my hot lips!" - Sally Kellerman (M*A*S*H) 14. "Because when you're a call girl, you control it, that's why. Because someone wants you.. And for an hour, I'm the best actress in the world." - Jane Fonda (Klute) 15. "Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelt of elderberries." - John Cleese (Monty Python and the Holy Grail) ________________________________________________________________________ BEYOND THE TOP 10 A selective guide to some other '70s treasures 1. Women In Love (1970) Ken Russell's daring adaptation of D.H. Lawrence's daring novel captures the charged sexuality of two eras, with Glenda Jackson and Oliver Reed both stellar. 2. The Last Picture Show (1971) Shot in stark black and white, Peter Bogdanovich's jaw-droppingly assured look at small lives in a small Texas town remains a raw heartbreaker. 3. Aguirre, the Wrath of God (1972) Klaus Kinski and director Werner Herzog team for a trip into the darkest Amazon and the mind of a crazy conquistador hell- bent for gold. 4. Sounder (1972), Conrack (1974), and Norma Rae (1979) In a cynical decade, director Martin Ritt gave us three gentle but never sentimental tales of union - - in all senses. 5. Badlands (1973) Terrence Malick showcases Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek as inarticulate lover-outlaws and makes spare, lean prose and beautiful poetry out of the bleak Midwest. 6. The Conversation (1974) Gene Hackman is exquisite as a surveillance-whiz tape master-turned-target. Pure genius from Francis Coppola -- the same year as Godfather 2! 7. Dog Day Afternoon (1975) Just another bank-heist flick? Not with the combo of Sidney Lumet, the sweaty streets of New York City, and a young Al Pacino at his blazing best. 8. All the President's Men (1976) Remember when reporters were good guys? Just watch Bob Woodward (Robert Redford) and Carl Bernstein (Dustin Hoffman) take down Tricky Dick. 9. Carrie (1976) Shrewd sadist Brian De Palma's fiery tale of telekinetic teen revenge boasts torrid turns from Sissy Spacek and Piper Laurie. 10. Small Change (1976) Francois Truffaut at his most tenderly humane, watching a group of little kids stumble bruised but unbroken through childhood. ________________________________________________________________________ BEST PICTURE OSCAR WINNERS 1970 Patton 1971 The French Connection 1972 The Godfather 1973 The Sting 1974 The Godfather Part II 1975 One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest 1976 Rocky 1977 Annie Hall 1978 The Deer Hunter 1979 Kramer Vs. Kramer ________________________________________________________________________ - Entertainment Weekly, Sept. 24, 1999. ###
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