Word: barrelers
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...straight gals-and-ghouls movie (and 59th film) turned out by Britain's brash little Hammer Film Productions Ltd. is sure to be boffo all over the world. Last week Hammer's short, hard, bright boss. Colonel* Jimmy Carreras, 49, knocked the bung out of yet another barrel of blood: he gave Britons a fresh and frightening look at Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Hound of the Baskervilles. In three years, Hammer's remakes of Curse of Frankenstein, Dracula, and other items from Hollywood's library of horror classics have earned more dollars from world...
...western" called The Rifleman, is a smiling Irish plow chaser who carries the biggest weapon seen so far on the small screen: a full-length .44-.40 1892 Winchester carbine, which he twirls like a pistol. Fortunately, the man is so shad-bellied tall that he can spin the barrel under his arm without scraping his armpit. Raised in Brooklyn, Chuck spent six years in minor-league ball, wound up with the Los Angeles Angels in 1952 (batted .321, hit 23 homers). When he walked in to try out for Rifleman, the director suddenly pitched a rifle at him. Chuck...
...barrel of energy at 54, Chaliapin has lived in New York since 1935. In the past 17 years he has painted some 300 TIME covers (including this week's), most of them from photographs. Yet in each he has managed to reveal much of the soul that resides within the physical envelope. Chaliapin sees into people, and he paints just what he sees...
...stage of Milan's La Scala one evening last week, Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor, mused about the futility of wealth and power. The aria, Oh! de' verd'anni miei, got hearty applause. After the curtain fell on the third act of Verdi's Ernani, barrel-chested Baritone Cornell MacNeil scurried back to his dressing room, where he signed his name to a La Scala option for next season. Then he dispatched a cable to his wife in Cliffside Park, NJ.: "We tore up the pea patch, doll...
...drank some. So now there was less in the glass than there was before, but now I was less steady, so I had to drink some more to keep it from spilling on the rug. So after awhile the glass became a pitcher, and the pitcher became a barrel, and the barrel became a hogshead, until finally I was tied in with a direct pipeline that was connected up to all the gin and tonic in the world. There I was, trying to drink up this whole enormous ocean of gin and tonic. It was a challenge...