Word: bijou
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...they dream of glory during those evening hours when the rest of the world is walking the dog, watching Johnny Carson, or returning from the new film at the Bijou. Or perhaps not: the men and women of TV who are in charge of waking up America may merely see the hour hand stretching inevitably toward 2, the minute hand reaching inexorably toward 12 and ... BUZZ! RING! It's time to get up again. Plug in the percolator, scramble the eggs, pour the milk over the granola...
...airlines and cable networks as a mild soporific for weary travelers and viewers. Doubtless, it was seen as nothing more than an up-scale TV movie, with its careful pacing, liberal humanism and "small" subject: the family. Now Santini has found an almost posthumous success in a Manhattan bijou. Critics helped lead the right audience to it: fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, young people who care to remember where they came from and what they might become. Bull Meechum lives again. He can finally rest in peace. -By Richard Corliss
...soft," as De Vries might say when the going gets muddy. His explanation is more involved than his predicament: "There was Mrs. d. wanting me to wait for Columbine, with Luke standing by ready to feed me some knuckle pie if I didn't do right by the bijou. There was Ambrose fixing me up with Snooky von Sickle as a way of siphoning my attentions off his sister. And now there was Vim throwing his wife at me for reasons having nothing to do with Columbine at all...What an embarrassment of riches...
...palm trees in Beverly Hills, movie executives console themselves with at least one thought: in bad times people will still go to the movies. It is one of the fondest myths in an industry that deals in myths, and everyone remembers Mom and Dad standing in line at the Bijou during the Depression. How much truth is there to that comforting accepted wisdom? None at all, according to a San Francisco financial analyst. When the rest of the country catches cold, so does Hollywood...
Something similar occurs when Martha Schlamme and Alvin Epstein sing the Berlin and Broadway songs of Kurt Weill, as they are now doing at Manhattan's Bijou Theater. Singing is a singularly inadequate word; reincarnation is distinctly more appropriate. When these two are onstage, the audience is inside the skulls and the sensibilities of Weill and his most potent collaborator, Bertolt Brecht. One immediate impression is that the lyricist always has an enormous impact on the composer. Rodgers and Hart is light-years away from Rodgers and Hammerstein. In like fashion, Pirate Jenny of Brecht's Threepenny Opera...