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So, it was my 78th birthday, my son had come up for the occasion, and suggested we see a movie, specifically, "Birdman". In my youth I had a deep passion for comic books. Like the cars of the 40's and 50's, the comic book characters were individual, idiosynchratic and highly enjoyable...so what went wrong with "Birdman"? Everything!.

A talented writer creates recognizable characters, people for whom we feel sympathy or empathy. In this film, if you close your eyes, you can't tell who's speaking, and like Rhett Butler, frankly you don't give a damn.The writers seemed to believe that constant, mindless profanity would create viewer interest. Instead,all that puerile use of copulative, sodomistic language numbs the brain.

I had a dental appointment the next day, and the dentist asked what I thought of the movie. My reply..."I think i just wasted two plus hours of my life." And at my age it's a helluva loss. In summary, it puzzles me that the Academy could find any redeeming qualities in this avian misadventure.

Another Sunday evening blunder...when will I learn? Ah, the sins of my old age! This film has everything! Bad lighting,stiff, embarrassing performances--a prancing, mincing Kojak? (Telly Savalas)...Glenn Ford with a crankcase of oil in his hair...obviously, the script had been flung in the air, and the pages re-assembled haphazardly.

The 50's diner lettering in the credits should have been a warning to me. But, fatigue,unfavorable sports results, conspired to lower my TQ(Taste Quotient) I realize this is marginally a review and more a cri de la coeur, but I cannot accurately describe a plot so contrived, so smirking, so typical of movies of that period. The Hudson/Day comedies seem like Ingmar Bergman gems in comparison.

The only surprise came at the end, when this cinematic disaster "thanked" a handful of locations, institutions who had cause for a lawsuit for injury to their reputations.

A few nights ago, my wife and I found ourselves talking about family problems at 3am. Sleep seemed impossible, so we went to the TV to find a more soothing mood. And there, on TCM, we found "With Byrd at the South Pole. Byrd stood nervously before the camera, stiffly, nervously trying to communicate the scope and dangers of his mission. The nervousness was in stark contrast to his absolute sure-handed, calm planning and control in the most trying circumstances.

We marveled at the thoroughness and foresight of his planning, his concern for the safety of his crew--no one died on the mission, despite blizzards, crevasses, 4 straight months of no sunlight,and icy , treacherous footing, with temperatures reaching -72 F.

Most outstanding was the Oscar-winning cinematography, unself-consciously artistic and breathtaking. We often wonder, watching adventure films, how cameramen somehow manage to be on a mountain peak before the climbers, wrestling heavy, awkward burdens of cameras, film and tripods. In this documentary, the visual thrills are endless and revelatory.

One of the most interesting aspects of the film is the quiet dignity, humanity and willing work of the 42 trekkers. There is no evidence of complaining,a quiet competency and absolute dedication to hard work.There is a moving episode as a lead dog, overcomes illness and infirmity in a heartbreaking attempt to stay with the sled dog teams.

This film is less "dramatic" than Flaherty's epics, but totally involving in terms of our emotional involvement.Find this film gem if you can...it's unforgettable.