Jane Fonda has made more than her share of controversial scenes, in the movies and in the headlines, but none has quite matched a certain sylvan sequence in On Golden Pond. She stands on the edge of a dock in Squam Lake, N.H., her body firm and svelte, her skin as burnished as an Indian totem, her bikini two bright tattoos. A shiver or two later, she has backflipped off the dock and sliced into the cold water. As sentimental drama, the moment is effective; as cinema, it is unremarkable; as a display of...
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