Rushes

John Lyttle
Friday 28 January 1994 00:02 GMT
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

Though he entered the acting profession late, Telly Savalas long nursed a craving to be a leading man. A vain hope. That face doomed him to heavies (The Dirty Dozen), foreign types (Horror Express) and persistent offenders (The Birdman of Alcatraz). The studios saw him as a bully boy, ignoring performances that displayed true wit. Witness his pathologically snobbish Blofeld, making mock-romantic love to Diana Rigg in On Her Majesty's Secret Service.

Even when his snappy incarnation of My Boy Lollipop allowed him to conquer global television, cinema refused to yield to his fantasies; the most fame could do was to remodel him as an eccentric (the crop sprayer of Capricorn One) or have him walk through absurd scenarios, flaunting his Kojak mannerisms (in Lisa and the Devil his sinister butler sucks those trademark lollipops).

Savalas compensated with an off-screen lifestyle worthy of the old-fashioned film star he wanted to be, earning and spending a fortune made from a character who allowed him to be the nominal hero, but whom he ultimately, ironically, came to resent. Final reports suggest he met his death from cancer with the blunt humour that marked his best work and that his appetite for life was sated, even if ambition remained unsatisfied.

Two pieces of vital information. First, the statistics published this week showing that most Britions make fewer than two visits a year to the cinema. This is less than half the figure in America, despite the rise of the modern multi- centre complex, expressly designed to lure punters away from their TV sets.

Second, the results of the Consumer Association and Check It Out magazine's study found cinema snacks to be 'expensive' and 'second- rate' - researchers rated one in five hot dogs as 'disgusting'. The magazine also said many cinemas could improve their timekeeping. Films started later than advertised in nearly half of the 20 cinemas visited. One set of figures couldn't have anything to do with the other, could they?

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in