In
Slate, I take a look at an unfortunate cinematic subgenre,
Hollywood Hemingway:
widescreen, Technicolor adaptations featuring foreign settings and doomed love, and always at least half an hour too long. Mostly products of the 1950s, they were made when Hemingway was a living legend and motion picture executives—thanks to the collapse of the studio system and the new ubiquity of television—were deeply insecure.
Responses from
Joshua Gibson and from
Alex Massie, who writes for
The Scotsman and
The New Republic.
In Slate, I take a look at an unfortunate cinematic subgenre, Hollywood Hemingway: