Word: banteringly
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When I come back the bar has morphed considerably--the kind of twenty-something banter I'm used to hearing fills the air, rising over the din of loud rock music. As I enter, a bouncer asks me to show some identification, and I flash my Harvard I.D. But he's not satisfied with that, so I fish out my New York State driver's license and hand it over to him, in the process exposing my expired, under-21 license. The guy notices the old I.D., and asks to have a peek at it as well. Finally, only after...
...this is "classic comedy." It's a warning, because it's dated. Soft spots, stiff acting by supporting players, and yet A & C fans (you know who you are) are watching for a reason. The slapping. The double-takes. Watching Costello bounce off the ceiling, and listening to him banter in zero gravity. The way that you know, when somebody bends over, they're going to get kicked in the butt. Somehow...
Strike a flirtily nude pose for a women's magazine. Have a happily public affair with a TV chanteuse 19 years your senior. Tease your screen machismo in lightning banter with Johnny Carson. Make a lot of middling pictures in fast cars. Be an early victim of AIDS rumors. Just about...
...Jordan have plenty in common. They are both sons of the South, civil rights advocates, products of the 1960s who steered to the center on their path to power, world-class storytellers who like to think of themselves as capacious spirits in the crabbed and pinched Washington scene. Their banter is sexually charged. At a White House dinner in 1995, to cite an example, Clinton found himself sitting next to a statuesque blond and at one point, according to an account in Washington Monthly, turned to Jordan and jokingly told him to keep his "hands off" the woman, because...
...text "O goodness me/ what misery/ how dreadful a calamity!" complemented its crazy waltz, while the singers onstage danced what was ostensibly the pachanga. Or the success of the Bat's corny "He is the goose to be cooked...watch while I baste." Even better was the faux-Gallic banter between Eisenstein and Frank, neither of whom spoke French: "affaire?" ... "Camembert!"; "du jour?" ... "I' amour...