Clint Eastwood just turned 96 — older than the talkies, a man who’s been alive for every talking picture ever made. Which got Rob thinking about Dirty Harry and a 1952 thriller almost nobody remembers called The Sniper: same city, same crime, same rooftops, 19 years apart, and two completely different Americas. You can read the country off them like rings on a tree. Or, you can just write them off and refer to the films as “dated” — a grave mistake, according to Rob.

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