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Even before you know who made I Confess you know that person is a master; the crowd scenes look vivid and real, with a sense of scale. The movie stars Montgomery Clift, Anne Baxter and Karl Malden. Montgomery Clift plays a Catholic priest whose life turns upside down. The cast are all fine actors and Montgomery Clift is compelling, as you would expect. He brings humanity and a strong presence to his character. Clift embodied the brooding intensity of the Method actors of the period as did Marlon Brando and James Dean. In spite of the craftsmanship and assembled talent I found I Confess too hard to follow. At the end of the movie many things happen quickly. I could have used instant replay and a panel of sports reporters. It didn't help that two actresses looked somewhat alike and were dressed in similar suits. I could not make out what was happening.

There was plenty of violence at the end in a fifties crime drama sort of way. The story narrowly avoids melodrama.

According to Wikipedia, due to the mores of the time, many changes were made to the original storyline to make it less controversial. I wonder if this is why I found this movie impossible to follow.

Despite these things, I Confess stands out for its iconic look, cinematography and magnificent settings.

I Confess is a crime drama, but I had my own movie. In between the events of the film I glimpsed a world that seemed to be much more orderly, quiet and spacious than the one I know. It moved me. My heart felt something. The beauty and grandeur of the buildings featured in this movie affected me. The film showcases a magnificent castle-like complex which I found out is the Chateau Frontenac. A Grand Hotel created by the Canadian Pacific Railway to encourage luxury tourism, it opened in 1893. This amazing mirage dominates the skyline of Quebec City. Many of the buildings shown in the movie are magnificent, like the church and the courthouse. They have a scale that made me feel wonder and a sense of expanded possibilities. I felt the loss of the same. These things tugged at me. I felt the lack of order and dignity in the world around me. I felt the contrast between the built environment shown and what I have dealt with all my life. Buildings have lawns instead of parking lots. Presumably people live one family to a house instead of each house being a rabbit warren of illegal apartments. Visions of other lives and other places appeared before me. I felt pulled. I felt the dignity of life in that time and place and the lack of it in my own.

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About half a day disappeared into a black hole. I saw what appeared to be a notice saying four people had unfriended me on this forum. I was horrified because I hadn't done anything. I looked and found at least one important missing friend, I think. Aaargh! Someone who runs the website. Exhalation of breath.

Spent a lot of time on this. It seems this isn't a notice, it is an ad for Unfriendtracker, a service that tells you who unfriends you on Facebook. It's not clear if they have any info about my friends on this website or for anyone's Facebook account. I had a Facebook page briefly but hardly used it and never friended anyone. What a waste of energy.

The website Scamanayze says Unfriendtracker has a poor reputation, may not be safe to use and makes misleading claims.

http://scamanalyze.com/check/unfriendtracker.com.html

If you have ads on your website, block Unfriendtracker.

I wish I had never looked at my friends list. Is one other person I admired missing? Could there be more? Can't be sure. Asking them about it seems awkward. It feels like something doesn't want me to be centered and enjoy my weekend.

I feel hijacked. I feel: anger, disappointment, dread, awkwardness, sorrow, anguish, hurt, sideways sneak attacked, mad. And hijacked. Fuckers hijacked my leisure time. Fuckfaces. assholes!!!!! Scammers.

Scamming scamfaces.

Years ago I saw a huge celebrity in a candy-colored VW bug elsewhere in the city. Maybe it's a thing.

Later I was somewhere else. There were a number of men there who I suspect are homeless. Nevertheless the crew there today was clean, helpful, well-mannered, and in one case, well-dressed. There was bonhomie and socializing of the highest order. When I had trouble with a machine, one of the men helped me, and was impressive.

There was also a man off by himself in the corner dozing while sitting down. I was aware of him because he was wearing quite a lot of citrusy cologne. Sometimes people who haven't been able to bathe think dosing themselves with cologne is an improvement. I don't agree.

Suddenly I looked up and a male and female police officer were behind him, asking him questions. They must have come in on little cat feet because I didn't see them approaching.

They asked him repeatedly for his driver's license or state ID. He said "I only have this" whatever that was. They asked him where he lived. He said he had stayed with a particular woman. They asked him about a car in the parking lot. It seemed like there might have been a connection between the car and her. They asked him for his social security number and address. This was all done very calmly and quietly. Maybe it kept him calm and protected his privacy to a degree. He answered their questions. I'm surprised how often criminals answer cops' questions.

Then there were more cops. One of the new ones told him he wasn't in trouble; they were just "checking things." Call me paranoid, but when the second tier of cops come in, you are beyond checking.

This went on so long that I went back to what I had been doing, questioning if I shouldn't really be watching the real live cop show in front of me instead. In real life it can seem wrong to stare at a man being brought down, even if he probably brought it on himself.

At some point I noticed that the smell of liquor or heroin seemed to emanate from him. He was extremely soft-spoken, even more so than the cops.

The female cop told him a little harshly that the car he had in the parking lot would be towed. Eventually she asked if he had anything on him. They arrested him. They cuffed him behind his back. I think they used those plastic twist tie cuffs. Then they walked him out. This was all done so softly that not everyone there was aware of it.

The other men did notice all the cop cars. They started speculating on what had happened. They had missed some stuff so I filled them in. We were crowd-sourcing. The guy who helped me with the machine had the most theories. He was sure the arrested guy had warrants, which was why he said he had no ID.

He offered that "All kinds of things happen in that parking lot. I saw a man and a woman making love."
"Were they in a car?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Thank God for that."

Many of the men didn't even see who got arrested. I said it was the guy in the corner who looked like he was from a certain country. The man who had helped me wasn't satisfied with that. He wanted to know if it was that country or the country next to it. I said that the arrested guy had physical characteristics in common with people from both countries.

Some time later I saw all the cops and the arrested guy still in the parking lot. The police seemed happy. I asked a cop what had happened. He could only tell me that someone had done "something stupid."

And eight other things happened that day. Those are just two of the highlights.

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Interesting possibilities taunted me: red gold, blonde. Unfortunately they required products and expertise I didn't have. They failed to happen. As people in government meetings have told me, "the perfect is the enemy of the good." In hair and in government.

--Glenn Greenwald
Brexit Article
The Intercept
June 25,2016