I think last night was my favorite so far. It was billed as a “crooked cop” double feature. Which it is, but I liked my friend Richard Heft’s description better: a “festival of booze-sweaty foreheads.” Which it also is.
First up, the sweaty Edmond O’Brian in Shield for Murder:
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So bummed work and such are keeping me from this year's festivities.
Eric Beetner
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