Once, a very long time ago, John Frankenheimer was scared of things. He was scared of being fired from his job directing live television dramas during the 1950s; scared of missing a shot, of trying something daring and failing so spectacularly that he would never work again. Once, in the early 1960s, he was scared of driving up Coldwater Canyon in Los Angeles to visit with Frank Sinatra; he was so sure the man would tell him he didn't want to act in his picture. A couple of decades later, Frankenheimer was scared he had grown too old, too forgotten. He would keep that fear nearly all his life, if only so he could always have something to surmount. That might well be his greatest reward: conquering terror and emerging, one more damned... More >>>