wife to suicide, is always thrown up innArkady’s face as an example of what henshould have become—if only he wasnman enough to do so; Arkady’s wife,nwho is thoroughly collectivized, willnbecome intimate with him only on anregularly scheduled basis and only fornthe sake of the Party. Such are enough tonmake any man bitter. But in the filmedversion,nArkady is simply a fi-eewheelingndemirebel without a cause, and anbachelor to boot. The character in thennovel is an outcast of sorts because henunderstands his role within the nature ofnSoviet society—but he also knows whatnside his bread, occasionally, is butterednon, and he hoards the crumbs. Smith’sncharacter, then, is motivated; thatncreated by Apted and Potter is merely annactor in more than the literal sense.nOnce, movies were made in exoticnsettings for the sake of Technicolor:npanoramic shots of the real—or convincinglynreconstructed—thing. Thenfilmed Gorky Park dpesn’t even haventhat excuse, as practically the onlynoutdoor shots are of beat-up Ladas (bomnof Fiats) in inclement weather. Aptednmight just as well have made a film aboutnDetroit, filmed in Brasilia, called BellenIsle, or one about New York, filmed innToledo, called Central Park, or onenabout Chicago Moscow has nothingnto do with the movie, and, without itsncontext, it is nothing. (SM) DnCharm & EpochnRichard Schickel: Cary Grant: AnCelebration; little. Brown; Boston.nHow does personal charm interactnwith an epoch? Many explanations comento mind, though not all accessiblenthrough words. However, if asked aboutnwho may best embody 20th-centurynAnglo-Saxon masculine charm, many ofnus—les enfants du siecle—will answer:nCary Grant. Somehow Scott Fitzgerald,nWodehouse, and the art of advertisingncashmere sweaters all converge in hisnSOinChronicles of Culturenface, grimace, gaze, gestures, and reactions.nIf a habitue of sumptuous hotelnlobbies symbolizes someone who isncomfortable with himself at our stage ofnhistory, Mr. Grant is the epitome.nMysteries of genetics are impenetrable,nand Hollywood—^as everybody whonlived during this century knows—^hasnproved to be more knowledgeable thannMendel in breeding “superior” strains.nThis is why Mr. Archie Leach, of mixednCockney-Jewish origin, ended up innAmerica representing the suavity andnSatchmo SwingsnJames Lincoln Collier: LouisnArmstrong: An American Genius;nOxford Univereity Press; New York.nby Doug RamseynLouis Armstrong, in the 1920’s,nchanged music once and for all. BeforenArmstrong, jazz was interesting, andnprobably important, folk music. Armstrong,nthe first great soloist, transformednjazz by dint of his genius. Untilnnow, even the best books about Armstrongnhave bartly risen above thenquality of fan magazine evaluations,ndeparting from idolatry only for thenobligatory notation that Armstrong’snartistry declined after his Hot Five andnHot Seven recordings. Collier identifiesnArmstrong as “the preeminent musicalngenius of his era.” This major criticalnMr. Ramsey is a noted jazz critic whontvritesfromNorthridge, CalifornianMrsKnnneasy-going manners of the best-brednBritish aristos and the wealthiest mainlinenWasps. Mags on the order oiPeople’snsophistication and eloquence callngentlemen who look and behave likenGrant “debonair.” There is somethingnmore to him, at least in our perception,nsome visual capacity to convey a gracefiilnessnadmixtured with autoirony, withna tiny drop of resignation, which, in turn,nis a mark of a self-controlling brightnessnof mind. All those ingredients blendnperfectly into a persona that—^whennwatched on screen—^looks like aparticularlynrefined cocktail tastes. Mr. Schickel,na penetrating writer on film affairs,nsomehow misses that point; his textnseems a bit like an exercise in typingninformation and so is without his usuallyninteresting insights. Dnbiography addresses the subject withnthe seriousness and thoroughnessncommanded by a figure of such stature.nCollier is provocative. Without attemptingnto devaluate the Armstrongnlegend, he uses sociology and psychologynto cut away the myth and to disclosensubstance. With careful research and anflair for the ambience, he evokes thentimes and places that helped moldnArmstrong—the underbelly of NewnOrleans in the Teens, the ganglandnnightside of Chicago in the 20’s, Harlemnafter the jazz mainstream swept east tonNew York. And he understands thennature of Armstrong’s genius:nHe came, in the end, out of himself;nand out of that same source came sonmuch more, as if he were a funnelnthrough which twentieth centurynmusic had to pass before it could findnits way.nThere come at moments in historynpeople who gather into themselvesnthreads around them and weave fromn