Today’s must-reads from around the Internet.
Fact: it takes quite the set of cojones to pull off wearing a Hawaiian shirt.
Also fact: most men don’t have ’em.
That being said, there are some real pros out there who do. And right now, we’d like to honor these brave souls who’ve unwaveringly taken up the charge. Through painstaking research—no scene left unexamined, no paparazzi shot ignored—we’ve uncovered the best and boldest examples of tropical-print artistry. A testament to confidence, these men are standards to aspire to. (At least when it comes to visually making a statement.)
Sean Connery with stunt double Big John McLaughlin, Never Say Never Again, 1983
When the city of Fort Lauderdale recognized Big John McLaughlin, Shogun of the Sea, with a star on the Walk of Fame earlier this year, he responded, “Does one have to be alive to collect it?” It likely was not the first time Mr. McLaughlin asked some form of this question, having pioneered diving, stunt rigging and motion picture safety techniques in the late 1950s that are still in use to this day. Jaws simply wouldn’t have been a scary movie if it weren’t for Big John.
“I guess the craziest thing they ever asked me to do was bite a live tiger shark,” he reminisces. But his favorite was doubling 007 in eight Bond films, including Thunderball, in which he doubled 34 different people.
Allow us to join the city of Fort Lauderdale in raising a glass to Big John, the Shogun, and all the brave men who have kept our precious style icons safe over the years. To that end, we close the week with…
One of the quintessential masculine movies is getting a Blu-Ray enhancement, complete with a restored print, a set of somewhat off-the-wall appreciations (Sara Vowell?), and the usual commentary tracks and deleted scenes.
A lot’s been written about *The Godfather*, but so many elements of it seem worth their own film, from the corrosive effects of power, the decaying family unit, and the increasing paranoia of postwar America. The unflinching brutality of the killings still strikes a chord, even after twenty years of horror-movie densitization, and the cinematography is still some of the best in American film.
And, in case you’d forgotten, Part III still sucks.
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