Word: almost
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...Paul, Minn., the reaction was almost as if another leader had been shot. "I haven't felt like this," sobbed one Catholic housewife there, "since Jack Kennedy was killed." No one, as a matter of fact, had died, but one of Roman Catholicism's most articulate and progressive shepherds in the U.S. had been abruptly estranged from his flock. The Most Rev. James P. Shannon, who had resigned as auxiliary bishop of the Archdiocese of St. Paul-Minneapolis earlier this year (TIME, June 6), last week announced that he had married. The wedding took place...
...Woolf?, The Loved One), scraped together $600,000 for this low-budget portrait of a country in conflict with itself. He chose Chicago, with its thousands of pent-up blacks and displaced Appalachian whites, as a symbolic seat of the conflict and began shooting last summer in a loose, almost documentary fashion-just as the convention confrontation was reaching a peak of frenzy. The uncomplicated plot turns on the developing love affair between a TV cameraman (Robert Forster) and an Appalachian widow (Verna Bloom), but gains meaning and resonance from the documentary footage surrounding it. The results of this apparently...
...Godard deceives him into a gratuitous existential denouement (straight out of Contempt) in which the lovers hear about their involvement in a fatal car crash before it actually occurs. Wexler's sympathies are admittedly with the brutalized young, and he sets out to show the police as almost total villains. In that, he had plenty of help from the cops themselves. But it might have made for less propaganda and better art if he had not presented the conflict as totally one-sided; if he had shown in more detail, for instance, how some of the demonstrators deliberately goaded...
...anguish, the "hidden books" behind "the façade of his public life." In an essay that no one else could have written, Greene claims James as a literary brother because, as Greene sees it, James also believed in the victory of evil in this world. Greene, in fact, almost succeeds in a posthumous conversion of the Old Master to Rome...
Julian Moynahan is one of those novelists who are cursed with a shorter attention span than their readers. His style is to restlessly gad about-from character to character, from scene to scene -always in the name of art, of course. Between the lines one can almost hear him learnedly murmuring the standard excuse: "Just reflecting the fragmentation of contemporary experience...