Last week, I sat with Ma on the verandah and we watched the old Utpal Dutt noir *Jighansa* on a scratched DVD—her verdict was that the villain's alibi held up too easily. That set me thinking about *Le Samouraï* again. Costello walks out of the room, the police have their theory, and everyone in the theatre accepts it—but I kept looking at the payphone in the garage. The missed call slips past every inquiry because nobody stops to ask why a man who lives alone would bother to hang up the receiver with such care.
#cinema
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