<rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" version="2.0"><channel><title>Burt Lancaster - vo.rs</title><link>https://vo.rs/tags/burt-lancaster/</link><description>Latest from the Burt Lancaster desk at vo.rs.</description><generator>Hugo -- gohugo.io</generator><language>en</language><copyright>This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.</copyright><lastBuildDate>Fri, 18 Jul 2025 10:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://vo.rs/tags/burt-lancaster/" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Sweet Smell of Success: The Meanest Dialogue in Cinema</title><link>https://vo.rs/screen/sweet-smell-of-success-the-meanest-dialogue-in-cinema/</link><description>&lt;p&gt;Most crime films kill people. &lt;em&gt;Sweet Smell of Success&lt;/em&gt; prefers to ruin them, and it does the ruining with words, which is why more than half a century on it still feels like the cruellest film ever set loose on a city. Nobody gets shot in a dark alley here. The murder weapon is a newspaper column with sixty million readers, and the men wielding it talk in a language so serrated that you can practically hear it draw blood. This is the film with the meanest dialogue in cinema, and unpicking how it achieves that meanness is a masterclass in how writing, casting and light can combine into something genuinely poisonous.&lt;/p&gt;</description><pubDate>Fri, 18 Jul 2025 10:00:00 +0000</pubDate></item></channel></rss>