I first saw Burt Lancaster in Airport and right from that moment onwards, I was a fan. He had something written all over him… panache, pure style, that lazy swagger, I can’t pin point (most probably it was everything combined), but like I said, it all made me a fan. And then I chased him around. Be it Judgement at Nuremberg, or The Birdman of Alcatraz, or of course, the cult spectacle, Gunfight at OK Coral, and each and every time I was struck down by sheer awesomeness (as Barney Stinson would have no doubt pointed it out to me).
And then came that fateful day, when I walked into the room and the TV played on at the back. And I saw him there, on the screen, walking down the rail yard, the song being sung in the background. “Mahalia Jackson must be around here,” I thought to myself, and then he walked in, right there, amidst them all. And he sang.
It will always remain in my mind as one of the most amazing moments of celluloid. Take a hear and a look. You might just get what I’m trying to say here.
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