Word: cornfield
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...NIGHT OF THE FOLLOWING DAY is one of the tensest, toughest thrillers anyone could ask for. But Director Hubert Cornfield isn't content to stop there; he creates a surreal seminar in the poetics of violence. The small cast is uniformly good, and Marlon Brando is back in great form playing a hipster-hood...
...inexpensive enough to appeal to three-car families and retired people, yet sufficiently stylish to attract young people on their first or second cars. Ford is attempting to attract young buyers by offering the Maverick in colors that were created at a group brainstorming session, presumably held in a cornfield. The colors include Freudian Gilt, Original Cinnamon, Thanks Vermilion and Hulla-Blue. The standard gag among the executives is that the company will entertain any name except "Statutory Grape...
Subtle Variations. The plot is a simple blueprint from which Hubert Cornfield, the director, producer and coauthor, builds an intricate superstructure. A girl (Pamela Franklin) is kidnaped at Orly Airport by a man dressed as a chauffeur (Marlon Brando). The chauffeur and his three partners (Richard Boone, Rita Moreno, Jess Hahn) hold her captive at a deserted seaside cottage while they approach her wealthy father about the ransom. The mechanics of the operation and, more important, the slowly disintegrating relationships between the kidnapers are the essence of the film...
...Cornfield transforms this rather ordinary premise into a kind of vision of surreal violence. Working closely with Cinematographer Willi Kurant, he creates an autumnal landscape, heavy with fear, that is the stuff that nightmares are made of. From the subdued hues of a beach at dawn to the bleached neon whiteness of a bathroom, colors serve both to establish the mood of each scene and underscore the precisely orchestrated tension. The film's ambiguous ending, which puts a parenthesis of fantasy around the action, may at first seem facile. On reflection, however, the viewer finds that a whole...
...obvious despair. The despair seems to rise from the conclusion that ultimate answers are beyond reach; Gass puts his faith in the structure of his prose and the intense physicality of his words. Death imagery crackles through these pages like winter wind through a cornfield, yet the characters have exceptional vitality. A youth watches with unblinking fascination as a farmhand tries to knead life back into a child who is "froze like a pump." A housewife sees beauty in the configurations of dead roaches. In the title story, an intricate prose poem about a small Midwestern town, windows are graves...