|
|
Raid on Rommel (1971)
Starring: Richard Burton, John Colicos
Director: Henry Hathaway
|
|
|
Retreat Hell (1952)
Director: Joseph H. Lewis
|
|
|
Run Silent, Run Deep (1958)
Starring: Clark Gable, Burt Lancaster
Director: Robert Wise
A movie's lasting value can often be measured by its influence in the years and decades following its original
release, and on that basis Run Silent, Run Deep is certainly a classic of sorts. It remains one of the seminal
World War II submarine pictures, and its intelligent script and tautly executed action are clearly echoed in such
later submarine dramas as Das Boot and especially Crimson Tide, which borrows liberally from this 1958 film. In
one of his best and final roles (he appeared in only four films after this), Clark Gable plays a submarine captain
without a command, having been saddled with a desk job after his previous ship was destroyed due to his overzealous
pursuit of the enemy in dangerous Japanese waters. He finally gets another boat--this time with a vigilant first
officer (Burt Lancaster), who stands poised to assume command if Gable puts his crew in unnecessary danger. The
tension and mutual respect between these two principled men is superbly written and directed (Robert Wise was just
two years away from his triumph with West Side Story), and the crucial inclusion of a strong supporting cast (including
Jack Warden and Don Rickles) enhances the movie's compelling authenticity. Based on a novel by former submarine
commander Edward L. Beach, Run Silent, Run Deep is rousing entertainment with the added benefit of paying honorable
tribute to the men who navigated through the most frightening and claustrophobic channels of the Pacific theater.
--Jeff Shannon
|
|
|
Sands of Iwo Jima (1950)
Starring: John Wayne, John Agar
Director: Allan Dwan
John Wayne's old studio home, Republic, made this 1949 drama about the heroic capture of an important island in
the Pacific by marines in World War II. Director Allan Dwan (Brewster's Millions), a pioneering filmmaker from
the silent days of cinema who easily crossed over into sound, handles the action sequences like a consummate pro,
while Wayne works hard as the tough sergeant molding new recruits into fighters. John Agar plays a contentious
surrogate son to Wayne, though the relationship is hardly the stuff of Red River. --Tom Keogh
|
|
|
Saving Private Ryan (1999)
Starring: Tom Hanks, Matt Damon
Director: Steven Spielberg
When Steven Spielberg was an adolescent, his first home movie was a backyard war film. When he toured Europe with
Duel in his 20s, he saw old men crumble in front of headstones at Omaha Beach. That image became the opening scene
of Saving Private Ryan, his film of a mission following the D-day invasion that many have called the most realistic--and
maybe the best--war film ever. With 1998 production standards, Spielberg has been able to create a stunning, unparalleled
view of war as hell. We are at Omaha Beach as troops are slaughtered by Germans yet overcome the almost insurmountable
odds. A stalwart Tom Hanks plays Captain Miller, a soldier's soldier, who takes a small band of troops behind enemy
lines to retrieve a private whose three brothers have recently been killed in action. It's a public relations move
for the Army, but it has historical precedent dating back to the Civil War. Some critics of the film have labeled
the central characters stereotypes. If that is so, this movie gives stereotypes a good name: Tom Sizemore as the
deft sergeant, Edward Burns as the hotheaded Private Reiben, Barry Pepper as the religious sniper, Adam Goldberg
as the lone Jew, Vin Diesel as the oversize Private Caparzo, Giovanni Ribisi as the soulful medic, and Jeremy Davies,
who as a meek corporal gives the film its most memorable performance. The movie is as heavy and realistic as Spielberg's
Oscar-winning Schindler's List, but it's more kinetic. Spielberg and his ace technicians (the film won five Oscars:
editing (Michael Kahn), cinematography (Janusz Kaminski), sound, sound effects, and directing) deliver battle sequences
that wash over the eyes and hit the gut. The violence is extreme but never gratuitous. The final battle, a dizzying
display of gusto, empathy, and chaos, leads to a profound repose. Saving Private Ryan touches us deeper than Schindler
because it succinctly links the past with how we should feel today. It's the film Spielberg was destined to make.
--Doug Thomas
|
|
|
Schindler's List (1993)
Starring: Liam Neeson, Ralph Fiennes
Director: Steven Spielberg
Steven Spielberg had a banner year in 1993. He scored one of his biggest commercial hits that summer with the mega-hit
Jurassic Park, but it was the artistic and critical triumph of Schindler's List that Spielberg called "the
most satisfying experience of my career." Adapted from the best-selling book by Thomas Keneally and filmed
in Poland with an emphasis on absolute authenticity, Spielberg's masterpiece ranks among the greatest films ever
made about the Holocaust during World War II. It's a film about heroism with an unlikely hero at its center--Catholic
war profiteer Oskar Schindler (Liam Neeson), who risked his life and went bankrupt to save more than 1,000 Jews
from certain death in concentration camps. By employing Jews in his crockery factory manufacturing goods for the
German army, Schindler ensures their survival against terrifying odds. At the same time, he must remain solvent
with the help of a Jewish accountant (Ben Kingsley) and negotiate business with a vicious, obstinate Nazi commandant
(Ralph Fiennes) who enjoys shooting Jews as target practice from the balcony of his villa overlooking a prison
camp. Schindler's List gains much of its power not by trying to explain Schindler's motivations, but by dramatizing
the delicate diplomacy and determination with which he carried out his generous deeds. As a drinker and womanizer
who thought nothing of associating with Nazis, Schindler was hardly a model of decency; the film is largely about
his transformation in response to the horror around him. Spielberg doesn't flinch from that horror, and the result
is a film that combines remarkable humanity with abhorrent inhumanity--a film that functions as a powerful history
lesson and a testament to the resilience of the human spirit in the context of a living nightmare. --Jeff Shannon
|
|
|
The Seventh Cross (1944)
Starring: Spencer Tracy, Signe Hasso
Director: Fred Zinnemann
|
|
|
Sink the Bismarck (1960)
Starring: Kenneth More, Dana Wynter
Director: Lewis Gilbert (II)
Sink the Bismarck! recounts one of the most famous battles in the history of naval warfare. Shot in semidocumentary
style, the black-and-white film covers all sides in the famous hunt for the powerful German warship that terrorized
the sea for eight days. The story and combat are rendered as faithfully as possible to C.S. Forester's novel. There
are a few historical errors and some other minor liberties taken for dramatic license, both of which the viewer
will easily be able to overlook. The only major addition to historical fact is a fictional romance between leads
Kenneth More and Dana Wynter, which never gets in the way of the action. Edward R. Murrow cameos, and one of the
founding fathers of movie magic, Howard Lydecker, assists with the special effects. The film is a compelling wartime
drama that deserves a viewing. --Mark Savary
|
|
|
Ski Troop Attack (1960)
Director: Roger Corman
|
|
|
South Pacific (1958)
Starring: Rossano Brazzi, Mitzi Gaynor
Director: Joshua Logan
The dazzling Rodgers and Hammerstein musical, brought to lush life by the director of the original stage version,
Joshua Logan. Set on a remote island during the Second World War, South Pacific tracks two parallel romances: one
between a Navy nurse (Mitzi Gaynor) "as corny as Kansas in August" and a wealthy French plantation owner
(Rossano Brazzi), the other between a young American officer (John Kerr) and a native girl (France Nuyen). The
theme of interracial love was still daring in 1958, and so was director Logan's decision to overlay emotional moments
with tinted filters--a technique that misfires as often as it hits. The comic relief tends to fall flat, and an
overly spunky Mitzi Gaynor is a poor substitute for the stage original's Mary Martin. But the location scenery
on the Hawaiian island of Kauai is gorgeous, and the songs are among the finest in the American musical catalog:
"Some Enchanted Evening," "Younger than Springtime," "I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta
My Hair," "This Nearly Was Mine." That's Juanita Hall as the sly native trader Bloody Mary, singing
the haunting tune that launched a thousand tiki bars, "Bali H'ai." Based on stories from James Michener's
book Tales from the South Pacific. --Robert Horton
|
|
|
Stalag 17 (1953)
Starring: William Holden, Don Taylor
Director: Billy Wilder
Black comedy and suspenseful action inside a German POW camp during World War II--a setting that was later borrowed
for the TV sitcom Hogan's Heroes. The great director Billy Wilder adapted the hit stage play, applying his own
wicked sense of humor to the apparently bleak subject matter. William Holden plays an antisocial grouse amid a
gang of wisecracking though indomitable American prisoners. Because of his bitter cynicism, Holden is suspected
by the others of being an informer to the Germans, an accusation he must deal with in his own crafty way. Holden,
who had delivered a brilliant performance for Wilder in Sunset Boulevard, won the 1953 Best Actor Oscar for Stalag
17. Very much his equal, however, is Otto Preminger, an accomplished director himself, who plays the strict, sneering
camp commandant. --Robert Horton
|
|
|
Stalingrad (1992)
Starring: Dominique Horwitz, Thomas Kretschmann
Director: Joseph Vilsmaier
It's tempting to call this harrowing picture a World War II version of All Quiet on the Western Front: both films
take the perspective of ordinary German soldiers at ground level. Stalingrad surveys the misery of the battle of
Stalingrad, the winter siege that cost the lives of almost one and a half million people, Russian defenders and
German invaders alike. Not unlike Spielberg's approach to Saving Private Ryan, German director Joseph Vilsmaier
rarely steps outside the action to comment on the higher purpose of the war, assuming the audience is aware of
the evil of the Nazi regime. Instead, we simply follow a group of soldiers as they endure a series of gut-wrenching
episodes, events which have the tang of authenticity and horror. Vilsmaier has a taste for symbolism and surreal
touches, which only add to the unsettling sense of insanity this movie conjures up so well. --Robert Horton
|
|
|
The Story of G.I. Joe (1945)
Starring: Burgess Meredith, Robert Mitchum
Director: William A. Wellman
As they march into yet another devastated Italian town, one of the soldiers of Company C neatly sums up the average
infantryman's experience of World War II: "When this war's over, I'm gonna buy me a map and find out where
I've been." Released less than three months after the German surrender, The Story of G.I. Joe is a gritty
portrayal of the reality of war: defeat as well as victory, blood and mud as well as glory. William Wellman's film
was based on the newspaper columns of war correspondent Ernie Pyle (played by Burgess Meredith), and through him
we get to know a small group of ordinary infantrymen as he follows them from North Africa into Italy. They're led
by Captain Bill Walker (Robert Mitchum), who claims he earned his rank by living longer than the other lieutenants,
and Sergeant Warnicki (Freddie Steele), a tough, gruff career soldier who carries a carefully wrapped recording
of his son's voice across Italy in search of a gramophone. The soldiers--many played by real veterans of the Italian
campaign--mature as we get to know them, becoming battle-hardened but increasingly exhausted. Meredith is effective
as Pyle, who quickly becomes something of a company mascot. He earns the respect of the GIs by sticking around
when the shells start to fly, and he becomes an even bigger hit when he brings them all turkey and cigars at Christmas.
But if this quintessential ensemble piece belongs to anyone, it's Mitchum as the battle-weary C.O. Fiercely loyal
to his men, he feels every death as a personal loss but refuses to flinch from his duty. Mitchum brings an extraordinary
depth of emotion to his performance, and he received a well-deserved Oscar nomination. Much of the film's strength
lies in the contrast between the human side of war--bored men trying to stay sane in cramped dugouts--and the inhuman
randomness of its destruction. After every battle, ambush, or artillery attack there's a terrible moment when we
wait to see who is dead--"We lost three," says Sergeant Warnicki as a few men stagger in from a patrol.
The nerve-shatteringly realistic battle sequences bring to mind Saving Private Ryan, and The Story of G.I. Joe
is a strong competitor with Spielberg's acclaimed film for the title of greatest-ever war movie. Several of the
soldiers who appear in the film, along with Ernie Pyle himself, died in action before The Story of G.I. Joe was
released. Fifty-five years later it still stands as a memorial to them and to all of the ordinary men and women
who died in World War II. --Simon Leake
|
|
|
Swing Kids (1993)
Starring: Robert Sean Leonard, Christian Bale
Director: Thomas Carter (II)
This strange movie with a niche subject--jazz-loving, dance-loving German kids persecuted by Hitler's men--almost
works, thanks to a good cast who seem devoted to the unusual story line. Director Thomas Carter doesn't bring the
necessary stylistic oomph to the musical sequences, something that might have pushed the whole production to another,
more interesting level of Hollywood dream. Kenneth Branagh makes a particularly effective, wolf-in-sheep's-clothing
Nazi official. --Tom Keogh
|
|
|
They Were Expendable (1945)
Starring: Robert Montgomery, John Wayne
Director: Robert Montgomery, John Ford
They Were Expendable is the greatest American film of the Second World War, made by America's greatest director,
John Ford, who himself saw action from the Battle of Midway through D-day. Yet it's been oddly neglected. Or perhaps
not so oddly: for as the matter-of-fact title implies, the film commemorates a period, from the eve of Pearl Harbor
up to the impending fall of Bataan, when the Japanese conquest of the Pacific was in full cry and U.S. forces were
fighting a desperate holding action. Although stirring movies had been made about these early days (Wake Island,
Bataan, Air Force), they were gung ho in their resolve to see the tables turned. They Were Expendable, however,
which was made when Allied victory was all but assured, is profoundly elegiac, with the patient grandeur of a tragic
poem. "They" are the officers and men of the Navy's PT boat service, an experimental motor-torpedo force
relegated to courier duty on Manila Bay but eventually proven effective in combat. Their commander is played by
Robert Montgomery, who actually served on a PT and later commanded a destroyer at Normandy; James Agee called his
"the one unimprovable performance" of 1945. In addition to giving it, Montgomery codirected the breathtaking
second-unit action sequences (and took over the first unit for a week when Ford broke his leg). John Wayne's costarring
role as Montgomery's volatile second-in-command initially looks stereotypically blustery, but as the drama unfolds--the
death of comrades, a friendship-that-never-gets-to-be-a-romance with an Army nurse (Donna Reed)--Wayne sounds notes
of tenderness and vulnerability that will take Duke-bashers by surprise. They Were Expendable is a heartbreakingly
beautiful film, full of astonishing images of warfare, grief, courage, and dignity: the artificial "rainfall"
that lashes the beached Wayne as his PT boat explodes in the surf; the glow around a communally improvised dinner
for nurse Reed; an old ship-repairer (Russell Simpson, The Grapes of Wrath's Pa Joad) settling in grimly to wait
for the Japanese, with "Red River Valley" as benediction; the propeller spray that hangs over a jungle
inlet, like the dust from one of Ford's cavalry pictures, as the PTs round a bend and disappear into history. This
is a masterpiece. --Richard T. Jameson
|
|
|
The Thin Red Line (1999)
Starring: Sean Penn, James Caviezel
Director: Terrence Malick
One of the cinema's great disappearing acts came to a close with the release of The Thin Red Line in late 1998.
Terrence Malick, the cryptic recluse who withdrew from Hollywood visibility after the release of his visually enthralling
masterpiece Days of Heaven (1978), returned to the director's chair after a 20-year coffee break. Malick's comeback
vehicle is a fascinating choice: a wide-ranging adaptation of a World War II novel (filmed once before, in 1964)
by James Jones. The battle for Guadalcanal Island gives Malick an opportunity to explore nothing less than the
nature of life, death, God, and courage. Let that be a warning to anyone expecting a conventional war flick; Malick
proves himself quite capable of mounting an exciting action sequence, but he's just as likely to meander into pure
philosophical noodling--or simply let the camera contemplate the first steps of a newly birthed tropical bird,
the sinister skulk of a crocodile. This is not especially an actors' movie--some faces go by so quickly they barely
register--but the standouts are bold: Nick Nolte as a career-minded colonel, Elias Koteas as a deeply spiritual
captain who tries to protect his men, Ben Chaplin as a G.I. haunted by lyrical memories of his wife. The backbone
of the film is the ongoing discussion between a wry sergeant (Sean Penn) and an ethereal, almost holy private (newcomer
Jim Caviezel). The picture's sprawl may be a result of Malick's method of "finding" a film during shooting
and editing, and in some ways The Thin Red Line seems vaguely, intriguingly incomplete. Yet it casts a spell like
almost nothing else of its time, and Malick's visionary images are a challenge and a signpost to the rest of his
filmmaking generation. --Robert Horton
|
|
|
Three Came Home (1950)
Starring: Claudette Colbert, Patric Knowles
Director: Jean Negulesco
|
|
|
Three Comrades (1938)
Starring: Robert Taylor, Margaret Sullavan
Director: Frank Borzage
|
|
|
Thirty Seconds over Tokyo (1944)
Starring: Van Johnson
Director: Mervyn LeRoy
There is no more ringing title among World War II movies than Thirty Seconds over Tokyo, and the mission it celebrates
was unquestionably historic: a 400-mile bombing raid to carry the war to Japan itself mere months after that nation's
sneak attack on Pearl Harbor. Yet the film is less memorable than many WWII pictures with less exalted factual
basis. At the time, critic James Agee eloquently defined both its virtues and limitations as "a big-studio,
big-scale film, free of artistic pretension ... transformed by its not very imaginative but very dogged sincerity
into something forceful, simple, and thoroughly sympathetic in spite of all its big-studio, big-scale habits."
That remains true today, but perhaps the movie--and its unimpeachably noble, admirably life-sized characters--wouldn't
seem so stuck in the amber of a bygone era if Mervyn LeRoy and company had pumped a little "artistic pretension"
into it. Spencer Tracy--as James H. Doolittle, architect of the raid--rates the most towering screen credit, and
he's superb. But his role's an extended cameo; the emotional core of the film is B-25 pilot Ted Lawson (Van Johnson)
and his wife, Ellen (the glowing Phyllis Thaxter). Lawson's bestselling memoir (with Bob Considine) of his training
for the secret mission, his group's launching from the aircraft carrier Hornet, and his crash landing and protracted
ordeal in China--where he lost a leg--has been faithfully served. The film is long on homely detail and all-American
decency (including a remarkably outspoken regret over the unavoidability of civilian casualties) but achieves its
greatest impact in the raid itself. That sequence, in addition to boasting Oscar-winning special effects, is mostly
shot in riveting silence. --Richard T. Jameson
|
|
|
To Hell and Back (1955)
Starring: Audie Murphy, Marshall Thompson
Director: Jesse Hibbs
Audie Murphy, the most decorated American soldier in World War II, enjoyed a Hollywood acting career after the
fight. In this 1955 autobiographical film, however, he plays himself re-creating his own actions and movements
in key battles. As strange as this project might have seemed to him at the time, the results are pretty impressive.
The film, despite a flat script, is really a pretty good war drama about Murphy and his buddies making their way
from North Africa to Berlin. --Tom Keogh
|
|
|
Too Late the Hero (1970)
Starring: Michael Caine, Cliff Robertson
Director: Robert Aldrich
|
|
|
Tora! Tora! Tora! (1970)
Starring: Martin Balsam, Sô Yamamura
Director: Akira Kurosawa, Richard Fleischer
"Sir, there's a large formation of planes coming in from the north, 140 miles, 3 degrees east." "Yeah?
Don't worry about it." This is just one of the many mishaps chronicled in Tora! Tora! Tora! The epic film
shows the bombing of Pearl Harbor from both sides in the historic first American-Japanese coproduction: American
director Richard Fleischer oversaw the complicated production (the Japanese sequences were directed by Toshio Masuda
and Kinji Fukasaku, after Akira Kurosawa withdrew from the film), wrestling a sprawling story with dozens of characters
into a manageable, fairly easy-to-follow film. The first half maps out the collapse of diplomacy between the nations
and the military blunders that left naval and air forces sitting ducks for the impending attack, while the second
half is an amazing re-creation of the devastating battle. While Tora! Tora! Tora! lacks the strong central characters
that anchor the best war movies, the real star of the film is the climactic 30-minute battle, a massive feat of
cinematic engineering that expertly conveys the surprise, the chaos, and the immense destruction of the only attack
by a foreign power on American soil since the Revolutionary war. The special effects won a well-deserved Oscar,
but the film was shut out of every other category by, ironically, the other epic war picture of the year, Patton.
--Sean Axmaker
|
|
|
The Train (1965)
Starring: Burt Lancaster, Paul Scofield
Director: Arthur Penn, John Frankenheimer
This is one of John Frankenheimer's breathless gems--all marvelous action that never lets up. Burt Lancaster plays
a French train engineer during the waning days of the German occupation who tries to prevent Nazi colonel Paul
Scofield from transporting a precious art collection back to Germany. Utilizing sabotage and cunning deception,
Lancaster and his Resistance colleagues stall for time with the Allies on their way. It's a brilliantly made film,
showing off Lancaster's acrobatic skills (he performed all of his own stunts) and Frankenheimer's sense of pacing
and brilliant use of space. It's choreographed with the utmost precision (those are real explosions during the
pivotal strafing sequence) and extremely authentic in its details. Lancaster is in rare minimalist form, and Scofield
manages to extract intelligence and sympathy. A firecracker action film shot in crisp black and white, with yet
another telling audio commentary by the always instructive director. --Bill Desowitz
|
|
|
Truman (1995)
Director: Frank Pierson
Harry S. Truman had a hard row to hoe as the 33rd president and he never enjoyed popularity while in office. Think
about what occurred on Truman's watch: the bombing of Hiroshima, a nationwide railroad strike, the rise of the
Southern States' Rights Party, integration of the armed forces, the ascendancy of McCarthyism, the early cold war,
and finally the Korean Conflict and Truman's decision to fire General MacArthur. Few American presidents have been
faced with more difficult and dangerous times than Truman. It wasn't until some 50 years later that Harry Truman,
a farmer from Missouri, got his due appreciation in the history books. Truman follows the man from his beginnings
as an artillery officer in WWI through his connections with Missouri's Pendergast political machine and onward
to Washington. The always-excellent Gary Sinise is a perfect fit for the Truman character, having obviously studied
the President's plainspoken Missouri twang and ramrod-straight bearing at great length. Diana Scarwid is also very
good as Truman's long-suffering wife Bess; the film studies the relationship between the two in some depth, and
also sheds light on the men who surrounded Truman in Washington. Truman's chief failing is that in its effort to
detail 40 years of the man's life, certain historical events are given short shrift in order to fit them all in.
Nonetheless, Sinise inhabits the character well; the scene where the President ruminates on dining alone in the
White House (while Bess is back in Missouri) is a great, understated comment on the loneliness, isolation, and
stress of the job. --Jerry Renshaw
|
|
|
The Tuskegee Airman (1995)
Director: Robert Markowitz
This true story of the black flyers who broke the color barrier in the U.S. Air Force during World War II is a
well-intentioned film highlighted by an excellent cast. Proud, solemn, Iowa-born Laurence Fishburne and city-kid
hipster Cuba Gooding Jr. are among the hopefuls who meet en route to Tuskegee Air Force Base, where they are among
the recruits for an "experimental" program to "prove" the abilities of the black man in the
U.S. armed services. Fighting prejudice from racist officers and government officials and held to a consistently
higher level of performance than their white counterparts, these men prove themselves in training and in combat,
many of them dying for their country in the process. Andre Braugher costars as a West Point graduate who takes
charge of the unit in Africa and in Italy (where it's christened the 332nd). The film is rousing, if slow starting
and episodic, but it's periodically grounded by a host of war movie clichés, notably the calculated demise
of practically every trainee introduced in the opening scenes (ironic given the 332nd's real-life combat record--high
casualties for the enemy, low casualties among themselves, and no losses among the bombers they escorted). Ultimately
the Emmy-nominated performances by moral backbone Fishburne and the dedicated Braugher and the energy and cocky
confidence of Gooding give their battles both on and off the battlefield the sweet taste of victory. --Sean Axmaker
|
|
|
Twelve O'Clock High (1949)
Starring: Gregory Peck, Hugh Marlowe
Director: Henry King
The wartime memories of surviving World War II bomber squadrons were still crystal clear when this acclaimed drama
was released in 1949--one of the first postwar films out of Hollywood to treat the war on emotionally complex terms.
Framed by a postwar prologue and epilogue and told as a flashback appreciation of wartime valor and teamwork, the
film stars Gregory Peck in one of his finest performances as a callous general who assumes command of a bomber
squadron based in England. At first, the new commander has little rapport with the 918th Bomber Group, whose loyalties
still belong with their previous commander. As they continue to fly dangerous missions over Germany, however, the
group and their new leader develop mutual respect and admiration, until the once-alienated commander feels that
his men are part of a family--men whose bravery transcends the rigors of rigid discipline and by-the-book leadership.
The film's now-classic climax, in which the general waits patiently for his squad to return to base--painfully
aware that they may not return at all--is one of the most subtle yet emotionally intense scenes of any World War
II drama. With Peck in the lead and Dean Jagger doing Oscar-winning work in a crucial supporting role, this was
one of veteran director Henry King's proudest achievements, and it still packs a strong dramatic punch. --Jeff
Shannon
|
|
Film Archive continued on next page - click here to go to next page (U through Z)
|
