Movie Review: Is “The Linguini Incident” (1991) a “Forgotten Gem” of Bowie and Rosanna Arquette?

Barely released in theaters when it was finished and tossed out on home video in a flash, “The Linguini Incident” took on a cult film afterlife thanks to its cast — David Bowie co-stars with Rosanna Arquette, Buck Henry, Andre Gregory and Marlee Matlin — and its director’s insistence that it was badly recut and “dumped” by its distributor.

Trend-setter, style, pop and rock icon Bowie didn’t make a lot of movies, and here’s one that captures him in all his Thin White Duke Fending Off Middle Age glory, paired-up with Peak Arquette, the coquette of her age thanks to “Desperately Seeking Susan” and “Baby It’s You.”

So Richard Shepard, an award winning TV (“Ugly Betty,” “Girls”) and film (“Dom Hemingway”) director thought it would be worth going back and making a director’s cut of his film along with a 4K restoration that renders the 1991 release shiny and “new.”

Re-issued on Amazon, it’s being hawked as a “forgotten gem” of Bowie’s film career, a caper comedy/rom-com that saw him take a shot at playing a straightforward romantic lead. But is it? A gem, I mean?

No. It’s still a cult film, with virtues that can be magnified by whatever cult embraces it while ignoring the inconvenient truths about jokes that don’t land, a romance that’s a non-starter and the “cute” that it aspires to and sometimes achieves.

It’s very much of its era, a picture wallowing in the ’80s downmarket artsy chic of NYC best remembered in the forgettable “Slaves of New York,” and a caper comedy with “green card” implications, a “Green Card” without the heart.

Arquette plays Lucy, a waitress to the “trendsucking leeches” at the tony Manhattan eatery/bar Dali, run by co-owners and pretentious tyrants Dante and Cecil (Andre Gregory of “My Dinner with Andre” and Buck Henry).

The gay couple may profess a sentimentality about their staff. They hired a deaf woman (Marlee Matlin) who requires an ASL interpreter to fulfill her duties as hostess, for instance. But to a one “every waitress fantasizes

about robbing” the joint, thanks to its pricey popularity and skinflint owners, Lucy narrates.

Lucy’s living the Manhattan in the ’80s dream — waitressing by night, rehearsing by day. But she’s not up for cattle calls or “A Chorus Line.” Lucy dreams of being an heir to Houdini, an escape artist. To that end, she collects every artifact that tarot card reader and shopkeeper Miracle (veteran Swedish actress Viveca Lindfors) offers up that was once owned by “Mrs. Harry Houdini.”

Lucy’s act has her dressing like a ’20s flapper and trying and inevitably failing to pick a lock, escape a sack or slip a noose she’s gotten herself into, theoretically for the entertainment value of others. The first rehearsal we see ends with her almost hanging herself, shackled and helpless, in her apartment.

Perhaps the new bartender, Monte (Bowie), will come to her rescue. He introduced himself quoting The Doors.

“Hello, I love you.”

Bit his “I think I want for you to marry me” isn’t something Lucy falls for, as he’s lied to every waitress in the joint. He was a “test pilot,” performer in the “English rodeo” or “in a coma for eight years,” he’s said. He lies like he breathes. What he really needs is a green card wife, and in a hurry.

As she needs that one last expensive talisman — Mrs. Houdini’s ring — to ensure she’ll do a winning audition for some sort of lesbian burlesque review that three humorless Spaphic sisters are casting, and he needs money to bribe a bride, maybe they should rob Dali and split the proceeds.

Eszter Balint plays Vivian, Lucy’s flaky, avante gard bra designer (“Bayonet Bra!”) who is needed to play “the trigger man” for the holdup. As she’s warm for Monte’s form, she and Lucy will have to make a pact that they’ll keep until the cash is divvied up.

“No one in this room is going to have sex with anyone else in this room. We’ll be platonic. Like our parents!”

There’s cute banter between “Lucy the Ethereal” and “Monte…the emasculated.” There’s time for a wintry walk on the beach at Coney Island to seal the deal.

And when the robbery doesn’t go quite as they planned, at least one and all can take comfort in the fact that the New York newspapers have entirely too much fun writing punny or alliterative headlines about those who take from and traumatize the trendy.

The repartee amongst the leads, and between Gregory and Henry and Matlin and ASL joker Michael Bonnabel, is the fairy dust sprinkled over this somewhat stiff comedy that makes it endurable. Look for future “News Radio” star Maura Tierney and “Drew Carey Show” regular Kathy Kinney in tiny supporting roles.

But there’s a reason Bowie was always best in cameos, faintly kinky dramas or horror. He never had a “romantic lead” vibe, not in rom-com terms anyway.

Iman, the statuesque Somali model/actress he was married to and who pops up in a crowd scene at the restaurant would probably beg to differ.

Arquette effortlessly carries her antic, chatty half of the “couple” off. Bowie doesn’t, as he gets little help from the script and none from the pacing — which is too slack and sluggish when “screwball” was what this picture was meant to be.

There are moments that charm and depictions — “real” struggling artist New York apartments of the era, for instance — that add time capsule appeal to this “cult film.”

But sometimes, you’re better off leaving your cult film to live off its legend, its reputation and your insistence that it was “ruined” by others. Especially when the director’s cut evidence proves otherwise.

Rating: R, profanity, sexual situations

Cast: Rosanna Arquette, David Bowie, Eszter Balint, Buck Henry, Andre Gregory, Marlee Matlin and Viveca Lindfors

Credits: Directed by Rochard Shepard, scripted by Richard Shepard and Tamar Brott. An Academy release recut for re-issue on Amazon Prime.

Running time: 1:36

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Movie Review: A Dark, Cryptic ’60s Spy Spoof from Belgium, France, Luxembourg and Italy — “Reflection in a Dead Diamond”

The descriptor “spoof” carries certain implications and obligations with it, chief among them “wit.”

French filmmakers Hélène Cattet and Bruno Forzani have a way with a witty title (“Let the Corpse Tan”). And their early ’60s spy spoof “Reflection in a Dead Diamond” may be spot on in design, cars and villain names (Serpentik!) mimicking the era and its movies.

Its pretentions reach for equal parts “Danger: Diabolik” and “Trans-Europ-Express,” with the merest soupcon of Godard’s “Alphaville.”

But even though the spoof becomes broader as the spy in question becomes the subject of pulp fiction novels and even a movie within a movie, something — anything — funny gets lost in translation.

“Dead Diamond” is a thriller about an aged agent (Fabio Testi) triggered into a flashback about an infamous “case” and worries about the unfinished business and villainess who survived it.

What triggers this “diamond” laced mystery? The sight of a topless sunbather’s diamond-tipped nipple piercing on the beach.

Back in the day, John D. (Yannick Renier) was a spy among spies, cutting a dashing figure through the ’60s, zipping from assignment to assignment in his E-Type Jaguar. He took on the task of protecting a mogul named Strand (Koen De Bouw), an oil tycoon who insists he needs no protection.

With leather body-suited lady ninjas on the loose doing the bidding of Serpentik, Strand could not be more wrong.

Brawls begin as seductions and diamonds rend and tear flesh as John D. looks for clues, his quarry and the film’s plot.

Extreme close-ups and montages decorate the screen as the film skips in time back and forth from John D.’s long ago “case,” and the older John D. weighing whether this Serpentik still constitutes dangers and seeing himself rendered in paperback and big screen exploits.

The menace hiding behind the endless possibilities of the James Bond films of the era is what the movie is about, the sort of “man is going to the moon” optimism that has Strand declare that nuclear energy and spaceflight mean “‘the sky is the limit’ is now obsolete'” (in French with English subtitles).

But human “progress” has its sharp edge. A soprano’s (Céline Camara) minidress of mirrored discs is a weapon in all the slashing and straight-razor slicing and misplaced body parts recovered on the beach.

Maria de Medeiros of “Pulp Fiction” turns up as our villainess in winter, and a cliffside car chase tests an ancient Alfa Romeo and that E-Type and their drivers in what passes for a finale.

The acting is rendered reductivist in the editing, and the choppiness of the narrative leaves a lot open to interpretation as to what these self-conscious filmmakers were on about.

Buying into the trippiness of it all is kind of a must. But it would be a lot easier with a lighter touch, and perhaps a bit of workshopping the impressionistic script into something more than the merest “impressions.”

Rating: unrated, graphic violence, nudity

Cast: Yannick Renier, Maria de Medeiros, Céline Camara, Fabio Testi, Manon Beuchot and Koen De Bouw

Credits: Scripted and directed by Hélène Cattet and Bruno Forzani. A Shudder release.

Running time: 1:26

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Movie Preview: Scots Lads Con the Early 2000s Hip Hop Scene in James McAvoy’s “California Schemin'”

McAvoy directs and is the biggest name star in this music industry dramedy about boys from Dundee who passed themselves off as hip hop stars Silibil N’ Brains and got a record deal and MTV appearances and tours before the bottom fell out.

James Corden plays a music exec, and Seamus McLean Ross and Samuel Bottomley play the rappers, who can’t catch a break from the London music industry because they’re “too Scottish.”

It’s McAvoy’s directing debut, and with all his years on sets, he’s more than ready to take that shot.

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Movie Preview: Jodie Foster’s An American Therapist in France — “A Private Life”

When our French-speaking American shrink “loses” a patient, she takes it seriously. She starts her own investigation into what she’s sure is a murder.

The great French actors Daniel Auteuil, Mathieu Amalric and Aurore Clément are in the supporting cast, with “Benedetta’s” Virginie Efira and the revolutionary documentary filmmaker Frederick Wiseman plays our American shrink’s…mentor, we presume?

Jodie? She speaks French among the French in this mystery, which opens in limited release Jan. 16.

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Next screening? Euro-Horror in the Buñuel Mimics Lynch on his Way to Argento Vein — “Reflection in a Dead Diamond”

A genre mashup that played a lot of festivals and comes to Shudder Friday, this one promises to be challenging for the plot-and-performance obsessed, aka “Moi.”

Looks nuts.

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Classic Film Review: A Holiday Favorite finds Renewed Relevance — “Trading Places”(1983)

The “greed is good” ’80s and the vast wealth gap of today created by the “trickle down economics” of the Reagan administration was just kicking in when“Trading Places,” an anarchic comedy about the greedy getting their just deserts, hit theaters.

An R-rated farce from the director of “Animal House” that cemented Eddie Murphy’s status as a movie star and Paramount’s most bankable asset, it smirked in the face of the Reagan era tide that brought official corruption, homelessness and racism “officially” back into vogue while the middle class was being dismantled right before our eyes.

So does this Christmas season-set high-concept comedy have something to say to Trump era viewers? You bet.

Dan Aykroyd gives his best-ever best performance as Louis Winthorpe III, an entitled Ivy League posh brought low as “a social experiment” by his cheating, entitled betters, his bosses, the Duke brothers. Old money and generational privilege is undone by older inherited money and status of historic weight in the playful, wholly-committed performances of Golden Age of Hollywood legends Ralph Bellamy and Don Ameche.

And Murphy, introduced with the grandest sight gag he’d ever pull off, would be the streetwise underclass foil to the entitled Dukes and their ilk as the other half of their “nature vs. nurture” “experiment.”

Could an impoverished underclass Black man — Billy Ray Valentine — with no higher education be dropped into the affluent white elite and thrive, once he’s given the same leg up that class offers? How quickly would a white child of wealth like Winthorpe “turn to crime” once he’s stripped of his wealth, status and unnatural advantages?

Bellamy positively twinkles as the “enlightened” brother of the duo who used inherited money and status to start their commodities trading firm. “We want to HELP you, Mr. Valentine,” Randolph Duke assures Billy Ray through the open door of their Rolls Royce limo. This is after he was unjustly arrested for mugging Winthorpe, who only has to accuse the man fleeing police (For panhandling in disguise, I guess?) who ran into him for Billy Ray to wind up in jail.

The Dukes gave Winthorpe his job and apparently his Philadelphia townhouse, as he’s set to marry their neice. All it takes is a word from them, assistance from their white collar crime “fixer” (Paul Gleason of “The Breakfast Club”) and cooperation from the townhouse’s British “gentleman’s gentleman” valet (an in-on-the-fun Denholm Elliott) and Winthorpe’s life becomes Valentine’s life.

Billy Ray will use street smarts to play the commodities futures market, and thrive. A framed-for-theft and drugs and now broke Winthorpe will have to rely on a “hooker with a heart of gold” (Jamie Lee Curtis, breaking out of the horror niche), albeit one who drives a hard bargain, to survive.

Winthorpe is no more able to save himself, right the wrongs done to him or avenge himself on his tormentors than any other working class/lower class mug would be. Until that fateful moment when Billy Ray overhears how the scheme was laid out and joins forces with Winthorpe with a line so universal it could be right out of the social justice comedies of the 1930s, one that rings just as true in the 2020s.

“The best way you hurt rich people is by turning them into poor people.”

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Movie Preview: “Spider-Man: A Brand New Day”

So does Marvel have a big screen pulse?

Even the hits (“Fantastic Four”) seem to be labored these days. And there have been so many lost “Avengers” let downs.

Spider-Man has been the one franchise that doesn’t seem to have lost its mojo with audiences.

Venom, on the other hand, is one character that’s never had a worthwhile stand alone movie.

Pairing up the two is riskier than it looks.

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Movie Review: The Newly-Homeless Experience Life with “No Address”

“No Address” is a sentimental, well-intentioned melodrama about homelessness in America that doesn’t quite deliver on its “There but for the grace of one or two missed paychecks go I” premise.

It’s not exactly a “faith-based” drama, though visits a charitable church and it hits its message hard with stats and a plea for engagement and support in its closing credits. But it takes us through the trials of the newly homeless and the burden of long-term homelessness with compassion, if not a lot of originality.

The wheels come off Lauren’s life early on with her mother’s sudden death in her tweens. We pick up her (Isabella Ferriera) story on graduation day from high school. That’s the perfect time for her unseen state-paid foster parent to toss her stuff out and lock her out of the house because the state money has run out.

Toting black Hefty bags, with a phone that’s dying even as friends decline to help, Lauren’s a walking target on the mean streets of Sacramento, California. Goons of every stripe come for her until she’s rescued fleeing from her attackers through a homeless camp.

Harrison (Xander Berkeley) is a veteran and a painter down on his luck. Dora (Beverly D’Angelo) is a former actress lost in delusions of her brief time in Hollywood. Homeless addict/veteran Violet (Ashanti) isn’t that welcoming.

“She won’t last a WEEK!”

But 20ish Jimmy (Lucas Jade Zumann) doesn’t listen to that. What he sees and hears is another outcast from a society whose compassion runs cold to colder.

“I really should get going,” Lauren says.

“You sure you’ve got somewhere to go?”

Lauren finds herself with a new “family” looking out for her, showing her where to score a meal, a charity-provided sleeping bag and the like.

On the other side of the housed-and-unhoused divide is Robert (William Baldwin), an over-extended developer/hustler down to his “last chance” with his firm. His promised “all our problems will be solved” deal involves redeveloping the large lot where our homeless “family” lives. But his over-worked wife (Kristanna Loken) sees bills piling up and “final notice” mail coming in and has her doubts.

Like many movies about homelessness, “No Address” puts characters on the street because of their fear-of and refusal to go into a local shelter. The film makes no attempt to show the basis for that fear by the perfectly sane Lauren and Jimmy. As they’re being mugged and hounded at every turn, you’d think they’d realize a shelter has to be safer and more comfortable than winter camping on a vacant lot.

Developer Robert’s wife Kim is almost absurdly passive in her demands that he “fix this” mess he’s gotten them into. And the film loses its “This could happen to anyone” messaging when it lays out Robert’s addictions (booze and gambling) and character flaws (a self-centered lack of compassion) in a way that shouts “He DESERVES to be homeless.”

Melodramatic touches are everywhere, telegraphing every plot twist several scenes before it hits.

Ashanti is convincing as a woman trained to not take physical threats lying down. Ferriera and Zumann are caricatures of “They don’t deserve this” kids and Baldwin can’t find the humanity in a character scripted to leave that out.

Most every role is a trope if not a cliche, from the homeless-robbing goons to the problem-solving social worker (Patricia Velasquez).

Homelessness is a subject that falls in and out of the public eye thanks to a distracted, short attention span media and a shorter-attention-span public they try to reach. But once you know what to look for and who and what you’re seeing, it’s hard to miss, even in states (Florida, where I used to live) where government has decreed that this vast problem never be spoken of and thus never solved.

As far as movies raising awareness and promoting solutions and compassion on the road to finding those solutions go, it takes a lot more than good intentions to tell such stories in arresting, hearts-and-minds-winning ways.

“No Address” has the right intentions, but not enough of anything else to recommend it.

Rating: unrated, violence, drug abuse, profanity

Cast: Isabella Ferriera, William Baldwin, Ashanti, Lucas Jade Zumann, Patricia Velasquez, Xander Berkeley and Beverly D’Angelo.

Credits: Directed by Julia Verdin, scripted by James M. Papa, David M. Hyde and Julia Verdin. A Fathom Entertainment/Mill Creek release on Amazon Prime.

Running time: 1:46

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BOX OFFICE: “Zootopia 2” Zooms Past “Wicked 2”

A blockbusting $39.5 million Wednesday, a $19.7 million Thanksgiving Day and a $38-39 million Black Friday bounce put Disney’s “Zootopia 2” in almost the same spot “Moana 2” was in last Thanksgiving — in the box office catbird seat.

Deadline.com is projecting a $153 million opening week/weekend thanks to that animation-starved family movie audience. “Moana 2” reeled in some $225 million on the same week/weekend last year. Perhaps word of mouth isn’t doing wonders for the “Zootopia” sequel, which is headed for a $98-100 million three day weekend after that huge Wednesday take.Decent reviews can’t hurt.

“Wicked: For Good” is falling off to $60-63 million weekend (a 60% plunge). That’s precipitous enough to make one wonder ifthis “joyless sequel” will have the legs of its predecessor. But depending on Sunday’s take, it could be just ahead of “Wicked’s” pace when the receipts are added up Monday.

“Now You See Me Now You Don’t” should manage $7 million for third place as it clears the $50 million mark.

“Predator: Badlands” is due another $4.4 million and change for the three day weekend and is inching towards that $100 million mark (It’ll still be under $90 by Sunday night).

And thelumbering “Running Man” remake isn’t quite gassed, with a $3-3.5 million weekend keeping it in the top five, pushing it over the $35 million mark (a small fraction of its production budget).

A24’s all-star afterlife romance “Eternity” is doing quite well for a niche release, earning a little less than $3 million to come in sixth place. Mixed reviews for that one.

Is Netflix reporting its “Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery” box office? It’s not great, not even that good — $1.5 million for the weekend, $3 million since Wednesday. Most people are waiting to watch it on streaming, the smart move in this case. That’ll crack the top ten. In seventh place. And no, that’s not a good take for a movie Netflix has built into a franchise that opened VERY wide.

Rental Family,” “Sisu 2” and the new tragedy of Shakespeare’s life, “Hamnet” are slated to be in the second half of the top ten in an order only Sunday’s final tally will reveal.

I’ll update this accordingly on Sunday.

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Netflixable? “Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery”

Ordinarily when I review a film in theaters, I label that as “movie review.” Even when that film is heading to Netflix after a short theatrical run, Search Engine Optimization demands that you call it such.

But for most Netflix features and Netflix series, I headline reviews of that content with a “Netflixable?” label.

I make an exception for the third “Knives Out” film, “Wake Up Dead Man.” Because there’s little about this that begs to be seen in a cinema. It’ll keep until December when it starts streaming.

The targets are big, the cast is accomplished, but the mystery? Well, let’s just say it’s more “out there,” and by and large less interesting than in the first two films. And the wit that sparked the original film and gave that all-star cast all those moments to shine is mostly missing from a murder mystery that features “Fatal Attraction’s” Glenn Close, “Scandal’s” Kerry Washington and Andrew Scott of “All of us Strangers.”

The deadpan, foghorn-voiced comic Thomas Haden Church is wasted .Jeremy Renner is in over his head. Mila Kunis is forced to play the straightwoman. Jeffrey Wright scores laughs with most every line — and is only in a couple of scenes. And Daniel Craig’s Tennessee Williams homosexual Southern drawl can’t carry the picture because writer-director Rian Johnson insists on having a priest/suspect (Josh O’Connor of “Challengers” and “Emma.”) voice-over narrate the “plot” of the mystery and the list of other suspects — aside from himself — to death.

We can inFER, as drawling gentleman-detective Benoit Blanc (Craig) must, that having this most-likely-to-murder suspect narrate the story means he isn’t the priest who killed his Monsignor (Josh Brolin). But should we?

A judgemental, reactionary Monsignor (Brolin) of the Seize-the-Supreme-Court wing of the Catholic church is metaphorically “poisoning” his Our Lady of Perpetual Fortitude congregation in tiny Chimney Rock, New York.

A foul-mouthed, two-fisted young seminarian (O’Connor) is sent to this rural hamlet as punishment and penance by his Archbishop (Wright). Father Jud Duplencity may question his Monsignor’s divisive hate and vitriol. But the paranoid Monsignor Wicks has no intention of letting Father Jud “take my church.” And to the Monsignor’s cult of close congregants, the new guy is just a “PINO — Priest in Name Only.”

When the Monsignor dies, mid-sermon, in a closed room to one side of the ship’s prow-shaped pulpit (borrowed from John Huston’s “Moby Dick”), Father Jud is the police chief’s (Kunis) only serious suspect.

It’s an “impossible” crime of the “locked room” variety. But the chief’s summoned “proud heretic” sleuth Benoit Blanc to parse the evidence and solve the mystery, even as it takes on more and more messianic tones.


“This was dressed as a miracle,” Blanc purrs.But it’s just a murder. I SOLVE murders.”

Whodunit? The doctor (Renner)? The disabled cellist (Cailee Spaeny) promised a “miracle?” Might it be the mystery novelist (Scott) who turned utterly fascist under Monsignor Wicks’ tutelage?” The slavishly devoted church secretary/bookeeper (Close)? Her slavishly devoted groundskeeper (Haden-Church)? The parish attorney (Washington)? Her right wing politico/influencer adoptive brother (Daryl McCormack of “Good Luck to You, Leo Grande”)?

The fiery Washington comes off best among the suspects, and Brolin — wild-haired and wild-eyed — dazzles as a priest drunk with power over the idea of “saving” the world from “feminists” and “communists.”

The film’s topical touches — conservative politicians and theologians playing a zero-sum game of demonizing those who question their dogma and look puzzled when a more deeply divided country suffers with every new conservative assault on a minority group — are the weightiest of any of these movies. The target is consequential, easy and yet slippery.

Writer-director Johnson lands only glancing blows.

The voice-over narrated “story” of this crime’s preamble wears out its welcome well before the midway point of the movie, where that’s explained and mostly dispensed with.

O’Connor does an OK job of suggesting a priest in conflict with his past and his deepest held beliefs — but only OK. The other suspects are barely glanced over and that takes all the wind out of blowhard Blanc’s gather-the-suspects, deconstruct their crimes “pronouncement” in the finale.

There are a few laughs and some chewy turns (Brolin, mainly) to sink our teeth into. But “Wake Up Dead Man,” for all its St. Paul Blinded on the Road to Damascus “case of pink-eye” zingers, doesn’t amuse enough to dazzle, and doesn’t get the best out of a cast that deserves better.

It plays. More or less. Craig has fun in the part, albeit less fun than in either of the first two films.

But it’s not worth seeing in a theater. And maybe Johnson should think about talking Netflix into giving him a blank (Blanc?) check to direct something other than new installments in this franchise.

Rating: PG-13, violence, murder most foul, and profanity

Cast: Daniel Craig, Josh O’Connor, Kerry Washington, Jeremy Renner, Mila Kunis, Andrew Scott, Cailee Spaeny, Jefffrey Wright, Thomas Haden Church and Glenn Close.

Credits: Scripted and directed by Rian Johnson. A Netflix release.

Running time: 2:22

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