Tom Watson and Jack Nicklaus in the Battle of Turn
Author: Michael Corcoran
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Category: Sports & Recreation
In the rest of the world, they call it the Open Championship. Americans call it the British Open, but if any tournament is considered the battle for the world championship of golf, it is the one held annually on the great links courses of Scotland and England, the birthplace of the game. By the time the 1977 Open came to Turnberry on Scotland's west coast, Jack Nicklaus had established himself as the greatest champion the golf world has ever known, well on his way to the record that Tiger Woods would spend his childhood dreaming of and pointing toward. The sight of Nicklaus on the leaderboard was enough to make strong golfers shake. Everyone knew that Nicklaus was the man to beat in every major championship he entered. At the same time, Tom Watson had become the latest golfer to be heralded as the "Next Nicklaus." Watson had overcome his reputation for choking in big tournaments and was beginning to be viewed by his peers as the top player of his generation. He had won two majors, but there were still questions about his ability to stand up under the fiercest pressure. There are few moments in sports when it is clear to one and all that a torch has been passed. The 1977 Open Championship at Turnberry was one such event. The weather was uncharacteristically warm, British golf fans bared their pink skin to the unfamiliar sun, and the course played hard and fast. Nicklaus and Watson were tied after the first two rounds. Nicklaus shot a blistering 65-66 over the last two days to post a 72-hole score that set a tournament record; but Watson, paired with Nicklaus over those fateful 36 holes, looked Jack in the eye and shot 65-65 to win by a stroke. And the Next Nicklaus had been found at last, even as the original kept winning major tournaments -- but the air of invincibility was gone forever. Michael Corcoran takes the drama of this rare moment in golf history and brings it to vivid life. He draws on his interviews with competitors, caddies, commentators, and spectators to tell the magnificent story of this epic duel in all the rich detail any fan of golfing drama could ask for. Duel in the Sun is an unforgettable tale of the rise of a new hero and the grace of an older champion welcoming him to the summit of the game.
Alberto Salazar, Dick Beardsley, and America's Greatest Marathon
Author: John Brant
Publisher: Rodale Books
Category: Sports & Recreation
The 1982 Boston Marathon was great theater: Two American runners, Alberto Salazar, a celebrated champion, and Dick Beardsley, a gutsy underdog, going at each other for just under 2 hours and 9 minutes. Neither man broke. The race merely came to a thrilling, shattering end, exacting such an enormous toll that neither man ever ran as well again. Beardsley, the most innocent of men, descended into felony drug addiction, and Salazar, the toughest of men, fell prey to depression. Exquisitely written and rich with human drama, John Brant's Duel in the Sun brilliantly captures the mythic character of the most thrilling American marathon ever run—and the powerful forces of fate that drove these two athletes in the years afterward.
"Shall I describe the kind of man I think you would go for?" "You can't. He doesn't exist," Catriona said lightly. "Not even in your imagination, in your dreams?" Lucas Kane was a difficult man to work for. To say that he didn't suffer fools gladly was an understatement. And Catriona had wanted to get on one of Kane's famous archaeological adventures so badly that she'd lied about her qualifications. That was her first mistake. Her second mistake was thinking that Lucas cared about anything except his work. She dreaded to think of the kind of job description Lucas Kane's wife would have. It would probably involve moving mountains and other such feats. But he wasn' the only one who had high standards. The man of her dreams would be…well, unfortunately for Catriona, he'd be Lucas Kane!
Amidst the life on the Spanish Bit Ranch in Texas of the 1880's and the coming of the railroad, love, loyalty, and family are challenged by a young tempestuous woman and the anguish of a son gone wrong.
With Duel in the Sun, players can take command of the doughty Desert Rats of Montgomery's 8th Army, the fast-moving and hard-hitting raiders of the Long Range Desert Army (LRDG), or Rommel's mighty Afrika Korps, to recreate some of the most iconic battles of World War II – Operations Compass, Crusader and Torch, Tobruk, and Alamein, amongst others. Offering scenarios, special rules and new troop types, this Theatre Book for Bolt Action also takes players across the Mediterranean from North Africa, where they can follow the Italian Campaign from the invasion of Sicily, through the battles for Anzio and Cassino, to the final assaults on the Gothic Line.
Killing the Indian Maiden examines the fascinating and often disturbing portrayal of Native American women in film. Through discussion of thirty-four Hollywood films from the silent period to the present, M. Elise Marubbio examines the sacrificial role of what she terms the "Celluloid Maiden" -- a young Native woman who allies herself with a white male hero and dies as a result of that choice. Marubbio intertwines theories of colonization, gender, race, and film studies to ground her study in sociohistorical context all in an attempt to define what it means to be an American. As Marubbio charts the consistent depiction of the Celluloid Maiden, she uncovers two primary characterizations -- the Celluloid Princess and the Sexualized Maiden. The archetype for the exotic Celluloid Princess appears in silent films such as Cecil B. DeMille's The Squaw Man (1914) and is thoroughly established in American iconography in Delmer Daves's Broken Arrow (1950). Her more erotic sister, the Sexualized Maiden, emerges as a femme fatale in such films as DeMille's North West Mounted Police (1940), King Vidor's Duel in the Sun (1946), and Charles Warren's Arrowhead (1953). The two characterizations eventually combine to form a hybrid Celluloid Maiden who first appears in John Ford's The Searchers (1956) and reappears in the 1970s and the 1990s in such films as Arthur Penn's Little Big Man (1970) and Michael Apted's Thunderheart (1992). Killing the Indian Maiden reveals a cultural iconography about Native Americans and their role in the frontier embedded in the American psyche. The Native American woman is a racialized and sexualized other -- a conquerable body representing both the seductions and the dangers of the frontier. These films show her being colonized and suffering at the hands of Manifest Destiny and American expansionism, but Marubbio argues that the Native American woman also represents a threat to the idea of a white America. The complexity and longevity of the Celluloid Maiden icon -- persisting into the twenty-first century -- symbolizes an identity crisis about the composition of the American national body that has played over and over throughout different eras and political climates. Ultimately, Marubbio establishes that the ongoing representation of the Celluloid Maiden signals the continuing development and justification of American colonialism.
Follows Pedro Almodovar's career chronologically as he moves from amateur to international celebrity, and understands the films' complexity in terms of the director's central themes and the Spanish film tradition from which he comes. This work is of interest to new film students and specialists alike.
These fifteen carefully chosen essays by well-known scholars demonstrate the vitality and variety of psychoanalytic film criticism, as well as the crucial role feminist theory has played in its development. Among the films discussed are Duel in the Sun, The Best Years of Our Lives, Three Faces of Eve, Tender is the Night, Pandora's Box, Secrets of the Soul, and the works of Jacques Tourneur (director of The Cat People and other features).
Hollywood director King Vidor (1894-1982) was acknowledged as a master by movie showmen and cinema critics alike, but the range of his films made him impossible to pigeonhole. With The Big Parade (1925), he created the first modern war film and MGM's first major hit. The Crowd (1928) looked at "ordinary people" in city jungles. Hallelujah (1929) was the first all-black major-studio feature. To the Great Depression, Vidor responded with Our Daily Bread (1934), the politically intricate saga of a rural cooperative. Other Vidor films spoke directly to the moviegoing public: that three-handkerchief male weepie, The Champ (1931); and that key women's drama, Stella Dallas (1937). His high-passion postwar melodramas, spurned by contemporary reviewers, have gained champions each year: the epic western Duel in the Sun (1946); Ayn Rand's ultra-right-wing The Fountainhead (1949); and the violent and morbid Beyond the Forest (1949) and Ruby Gentry (1952). This book is the first in-depth story of Vidor's half-century-long career, from his first attempts to rival Hollywood in his home state of Texas through the complex interplay of his independent spirit with "classic" Hollywood's rules about public taste. The title King Vidor, American, celebrates Vidor as a representative man, full of the conflicting generosity and ferocity in the national ethos: with his violent mixture of pioneering optimism and noir torments, of transcendentalism and puritanism, of spiritual verve and physical practicality, of liberal conscience and Social Darwinist savagery, of male dominance and female conciliation. Like Whitman, he contains multitudes. Never narrowly auteurist, this book is a wide ranging integration of film history, political thought, and popular culture.--Adapted from dust jacket.