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Over the course of my life, my all-consuming passion for movies has precluded my watching a lot of spectator sports, though I’ve always had a soft spot for baseball. (I’m old enough to remember the “Miracle Mets” of 1969, and can still name the players. Tommy Agee, anyone?)

 With warmer weather comes thoughts of romance. Or is it just me? Even with forced isolation causing the occasional disagreement, I feel profoundly grateful to have my wife of three-plus decades experiencing this strange, new CO-VID world with me.

When movie buffs discuss the greatest directors of old Hollywood, the same names tend to crop up: John Ford, Frank Capra, William Wyler, George Cukor, and of course, Hitchcock. Worthy picks of course, but why not Fred Zinnemann? Granted he worked in a wide variety of genres (much like contemporary George Stevens), making him harder to classify. Also he started directing features roughly 15 years after these pioneers of talking pictures. Still, his track record is every bit as impressive.