BY ROGER EBERT / October 10, 1970
Marvin finished his Heineken, turned it upside down, watched a single drop fall out. "My agent," he said. "He keeps wanting to know if I've read any more scripts. Fuck scripts. You spend the first forty years of your life trying to get in this fucking business, and the next forty years trying to get out. And then when you're making the bread, who needs it?
Heineken?!?!? F--- that S---, PABST BLUE RIBBON!