— both parts and even the TVnsynthesis—estabHshed a place for himnbeside Welles and Eisenstein, andnApocalypse Now barkens baek to thengrandeur of D. W. Griffith. Coppolancan, however, do effective work withinntight boundaries, as in The Outsidersnand Rumble Fish, but Coppola cannotnwork well with flexibility. Andnflexibility—a bit of give in the sides ofnthe production envelope, horror storiesnabout the road to the $47 millionnnotwithstanding—is what he had fornmaking The Cotton Club. The filmndoes have its merits—the sets and thencostumes are authentic, the singingnand dancing are first-rate; but apartnfrom the trappings, it has a kind ofnflimsy rigidity—especially its script bynWilliam Kennedy—which would bensuitable for an Andy Hardy movie.nAnd the form is no stronger than thencontent. Coppola seems to be recyclingntechniques. For example, there isna pivotal scene when, through crosscutting,na tap dancer’s feet mimic thenrat-a-tat of a machine gun. It’s interesting,nbut unlike the baptism scene innThe Godfather, which had a point. ThenCotton Club has all the panache of ancopybook exercise. ccnObject LessonsnDune; Directed and written bynDavid Lynch; Based on the novel bynFrank Herbert; Universal.n2010; Written, produced, and directednby Peter Hyams; Based on thennovel by Arthur C. Clarke; MGM.nWhen the opening credits for Dunenroll, viewers are exposed to a long listnof cinematic technologists. These arenthe people who built the elaborate SFncirca-1930’s sets, the creators of thenspecial effects that make an ugly fatn32/CHRONICLES OF CULTUREnman fly and permit slug-like creaturesnto “fold” space. This multimilliondollarnconcern with gimmicks is whynDavid Lynch’s rendihon of Frank Herbert’snnovel fails on a grand scale:nHerbert is concerned with people;nLynch is concerned with things. At thenheart of all of the Dune novels is thenfact that one woman. Lady Jessica,nloved her lord, Duke Leto Atredies, sonmuch that she, breaking the plans ofnthe Bene Gesserit sisterhood to whichnshe belonged, bore Leto a son rathernthan a daughter. That act of Jessica’s,nwhich represents a thoroughgoingncommitment to an individual rathernthan an adherence to a technogeneticnprogram, has universal consequencesnin the scheme of Herbert’s creation.,nIf Dune and its sequels did not haventhis emphasis on people, they wouldnbe crushed under the weight of theirnown pomposity—which is the casenwith the film version. Once thenhuman element is diminished by camerantricks, our interest in the saganwanes.nLikewise, there’s 2010, the sequel ton200J: A Space Odyssey. The Decembern1984 issue of Omni featured 20J0non its cover (an appropriate compliment,nsince an issue of the magazinenappears in the film). Inside, Arthur C.nClarke describes-the generahon of thenarious stories that led to his 2010 andnpoints out that he and writer-producerdirectornPeter Hyams were in dailyncontact via computers during the makingnof the movie. Technology is verynnear and dear to Clarke. In 1984:nSpring, a Choice of Futures, Clarkenharps on the decisive role that technologynwill play in the future of thenplanet: first, second, third, and developingnworlds. Computers, solarpoweredntransistor radios, and gizmosnthat Tom Swift dreamed of will,nClarke argues, change the nature ofnpolihcs; as the people become armednwith information, it will no longer benthe private domain of “public” servants.nThere is an element in 20JO thenmovie that’s missing from 2010 thennovel and from the spirit of J 984:nSpring. Low-tech politics are inserted.nIn 2010 (both forms) there is a jointnU.S.-U.S.S.R. space mission muchnlike the actual Apollo-Soyuz mission.nIn the novel, the American and Russiannpoliticos aren’t any more warmnnntoward each other than they are today;nnaturally, the astronauts become comradesnin space. But Hyams, not sahsfiednwith a state of ragged peace onnterra firma, introduces a war set off byna U.S. naval blockade off the coast ofnHonduras.nOne might expect that the spacencrew somehow manages to set thingsnstraight, that technology, which theynrepresent, would save the day. Not so.nRather, the beings represented by thatnblack refrigerator-shaped thing thatnhad its debut in 200J send a sternnwarning—in the form of a secondnsun—to the uppity Earthlings. Tornnfrom the context that Clarke placed itnin the novel, this trans-solar systemnsemiohcian’s nightmare has all thenserious impact of George Burns in Oh,nGod! ccnARTnNot for Eyes OnlynLeon KioU: A Spoken Memoir; Editednby Nancy Hale and FredsonnBowers; University Press of Virginia;nCharlottesville.nAn assemblage of reproductions ofnpaintings by Leon Kroll—a middleof-the-centurynworshiper of an idealized,nwhite American female body.nHe was at the same time eclectic innstyle and a romantic realist with anknack for capturing the inexplicablensweetness of the 1920’s and 30’s—anshallow impression that gave his art anslightly commercial, Hollywoodishntone without demeaning its aestheticnF. F. Bruce: Abraham and David:nPlaces They Knew; Thomas NelsonnPublishers; Nashville-New York.nA superb photographic travelogue ofnthe journeys of Abraham and Davidnprovided with a readable text by one ofnthe major biblical scholars of the 20thncentury; a visual guide for religiousnsentiments.nMark Wyman: Immigrants in thenValley; Nelson-Hall; Chicago.nImages from the Upper MississippinCountry, from 1830 to 1860. Parochi-n