Ties loosened, cigarettes blazing, serious Eisenhower-era men in white Arrow shirts sit in conference, speaking in a very deliberate way about matters grave; and when they repair to a nightclub to relax, we hear none of the satisfying sounds of conviviality – no clink of ice and glass, none of the jokes we only see them laughing at: only the lonesome jazz ballads played by the nightclub band.
Recommended.
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