Tribute to one of my favorite films, THE DAY OF THE JACKAL (1973), with Edward Fox and Michel Lonsdale, directed by Fred Zinnemann. The music I used is a piece called "The Real Story" from the OCEAN'S 12 soundtrack by David Holmes. Note: The car skidding sound effects are not from the film - they are in the music. The movie received a lot of media attention at the time. Two of my favorite examples: COSMOPOLITAN (UK), Aug 1972: Come in, Number 007, your time is up. I'm sorry James, you've come to the end of the road. Just turn in the keys to the Aston, pick up your cards from Miss Moneypenny and we'll have a last vodka Martini before you go. And I'm afraid that goes for you too, Callan, and Jason King, and Harry Palmer and Simon Templar. Frankly, the new superstar makes you lot look about as lethal as the Bash Street Kids. Your day is over, I'm afraid, tomorrow is the Day of the Jackal. VOGUE (UK), 1 Oct 1973, by Charles MacLean: The New England matron opposite betrayed unusual interest. She raised a fragile schooner of La Ina to her lips, not to sip the sherry, but so she could peek over the rim. The Jackal had just walked into the Connaught. I watched him from a recess in the lounge. He took off his raincoat, a short, lightweight affair in muted white—trademark of the assassin—and gave it to the attendant. The rest of his clothes—cravat, greenish shirt, tweed jacket, brown trousers, brown shoes—were country come to town, the weeds of an ex-minor public schoolboy ...
Friday, January 18, 2013
Tribute To a Bad Man (THE DAY OF THE JACKAL Fan Video)
Tribute To a Bad Man (THE DAY OF THE JACKAL Fan Video) Tube. Duration : 2.83 Mins.
Tribute to one of my favorite films, THE DAY OF THE JACKAL (1973), with Edward Fox and Michel Lonsdale, directed by Fred Zinnemann. The music I used is a piece called "The Real Story" from the OCEAN'S 12 soundtrack by David Holmes. Note: The car skidding sound effects are not from the film - they are in the music. The movie received a lot of media attention at the time. Two of my favorite examples: COSMOPOLITAN (UK), Aug 1972: Come in, Number 007, your time is up. I'm sorry James, you've come to the end of the road. Just turn in the keys to the Aston, pick up your cards from Miss Moneypenny and we'll have a last vodka Martini before you go. And I'm afraid that goes for you too, Callan, and Jason King, and Harry Palmer and Simon Templar. Frankly, the new superstar makes you lot look about as lethal as the Bash Street Kids. Your day is over, I'm afraid, tomorrow is the Day of the Jackal. VOGUE (UK), 1 Oct 1973, by Charles MacLean: The New England matron opposite betrayed unusual interest. She raised a fragile schooner of La Ina to her lips, not to sip the sherry, but so she could peek over the rim. The Jackal had just walked into the Connaught. I watched him from a recess in the lounge. He took off his raincoat, a short, lightweight affair in muted white—trademark of the assassin—and gave it to the attendant. The rest of his clothes—cravat, greenish shirt, tweed jacket, brown trousers, brown shoes—were country come to town, the weeds of an ex-minor public schoolboy ...
Tribute to one of my favorite films, THE DAY OF THE JACKAL (1973), with Edward Fox and Michel Lonsdale, directed by Fred Zinnemann. The music I used is a piece called "The Real Story" from the OCEAN'S 12 soundtrack by David Holmes. Note: The car skidding sound effects are not from the film - they are in the music. The movie received a lot of media attention at the time. Two of my favorite examples: COSMOPOLITAN (UK), Aug 1972: Come in, Number 007, your time is up. I'm sorry James, you've come to the end of the road. Just turn in the keys to the Aston, pick up your cards from Miss Moneypenny and we'll have a last vodka Martini before you go. And I'm afraid that goes for you too, Callan, and Jason King, and Harry Palmer and Simon Templar. Frankly, the new superstar makes you lot look about as lethal as the Bash Street Kids. Your day is over, I'm afraid, tomorrow is the Day of the Jackal. VOGUE (UK), 1 Oct 1973, by Charles MacLean: The New England matron opposite betrayed unusual interest. She raised a fragile schooner of La Ina to her lips, not to sip the sherry, but so she could peek over the rim. The Jackal had just walked into the Connaught. I watched him from a recess in the lounge. He took off his raincoat, a short, lightweight affair in muted white—trademark of the assassin—and gave it to the attendant. The rest of his clothes—cravat, greenish shirt, tweed jacket, brown trousers, brown shoes—were country come to town, the weeds of an ex-minor public schoolboy ...
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