Word: angeles
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...nurse gave Dudley Moore a good-night kiss. Her name was Pat, and 40 years later he can still feel the imprint of her lips on his cheek. He describes it in Proustian terms. "I almost spin when I think of it," he says. "She was truly an angel of mercy, and that kiss was probably the first taste of real, unqualified, uncomplicated affection I had ever had. In many ways my entire life is based on recapturing that single moment of affection...
Marilyn Monroe occupies an unquiet grave. The 20th anniversary of her death has set off a worldwide orgy of necrolatry. While she continues to inspire plays, books and lyrics, the beautiful blond whom Norman Mailer called "the sweet angel of sex" is being all but drowned in a flood of tacky tribute. Boutiques and stores from San Francisco to Rome have found an apparently inexhaustible market for such mementos as life-size cardboard stand-ups, 3-D posters, calendars, bed sheets, shopping bags, masks, hot-water bottles ("Take me to bed. I will keep you warm"), piggy banks, pepper shakers...
...predator and willing prey but as victims of both economic hypocrisy and puritan prurience. Nor is the viewer exempt: he must peek at Hanni's lovemaking through frosted train windows and the billowing lace curtains of the middle class. The leading actors are exemplary: Trissenaar, porcelain-skinned and angel-faced and scarily self-possessed, and Raab, the perpetual slow schoolboy horrified by the games adults play...
...next act, the emotional balance shifts completely. Marjorie may be viewed either as an avenging angel or a paranoid witch. She has trussed up Raul in the fireplace and pinned a white blindfold around his head. She has clamped the head of a brass bedstead in front so that the fireplace resembles a prisoner's cell or an animal's cage. She pokes Raul in the stomach and groin with a broomstick, pours ammonia on him pretending it is gasoline, and peppers him with matches, threatening to burn him to death...
...record. They have the rough, "found" beauty of stenos or inner-city cheerleaders, and they run through their number with artless urgency, as if they realize that this is their one fluky shot at stardom. They sing of the idealized male, who needs both adoration and protection: the angel baby, the rebel, the leader of the pack, the playboy, the soldier boy, the fine fine boy, the boy I'm gonna marry-he's sure the boy I love...