Word: beckonings
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...rigorous artistic tests as Bergman. Here, though, he has a merry time juggling his three weighty balls, maneuvering his characters and his audience from one house to another, from reverie to terror to awe. This is a movie where, as Isak says, "anything can happen." A nude statue can beckon to a wide-eyed boy; Fanny and Alexander can disappear from inside a steamer trunk; the ghost of Oscar Ekdahl can return home for a chat with his old, living mother. Such is the unique chicanery of movies, and Ingmar Bergman knew it long before George Lucas...
...Olympic Games are sure to beckon him to Sarajevo, Yugoslavia, next February, but for now the call is muffled, perhaps only by distance. "I don't really have any goals, other than to enjoy myself," Mahre said. "If you go to the Olympics, you have to be healthy and lucky that day." At Lake Placid in 1980, he took second in the slalom to Stenmark, whose Olympic eligibility probably ended three years ago when he shifted his residence to the less taxing principality of Monaco and took out a license to sell himself commercially at seven figures. Adhering...
Inside the Hasty Pudding, though, it's business as usual, which is to say surreal. Patrons crowd up against the window and wave good-bye to their incarcerated comrade. A couple happily necks in the window, breaking occasionally to beckon farewell, too. A woman taking in the scene shrugs without surprise. "It's the Hasty Pudding, is know.." she says. "I guess we're competing with the Loeb...
Only in the face of an unexpected anti-Semitism--such as Cowan's Choate years--does the Jewish heritage begin to beckon as a safer and more honest haven. Cowan's mother often told him to learn a trade as well as a profession so that, if he were forced to flee in a foreign land, he could always support himself without knowing the language. Though Cowan never needed the safeguard, the warning stuck in his mind, controlling the odyssey that followed...
...retrospect, items 2 and 3 should be especially gratifying for a people who spend so much time worrying about the quality of their collective character. Two years ago, the President's victory seemed to beckon every junior demagogue from his cave and crevice. Oh, the seething and panting of the NCPAC hit squads, the rough stuff of Jesse Helms. No more. Hardly a "right-wing kook," as they are dangerously dismissed, won national election last week. Neither, for that matter, did a left-wing kook. Wherever else the body politic has wandered lately, it seems now to wish...