Word: bitches
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...sped away on a motor scooter. Di Leo died instantly. Within an hour, the neo-Fascist Armed Revolutionary Nuclei (NAR) claimed responsibility for the killing -and even phoned // Messaggero to brag about it. "This evening our commando executed Concina..." the caller began. "No, you son of a bitch," shouted the switchboard operator in tears. "You didn't kill Concina. You murdered someone else." While Maurizio Di Leo lay dead in the street last week, // Messaggero Reporter Michele Concina, author of several exposes on the NAR and the real target of the attack, was working quietly in his office...
...find a political comment anywhere. Not a serious one, anyway." Even so, what if Jimmy asks him to cool it? "That's the easiest question I'll ever answer," says Billy deliberately. "He's never going to call up and tell me to change." Never? "Jimmy's staff may bitch but...to hell with his damn staff...
...Herman's sister and mother, Gretchen Klopfer and Laurie Patton surmount the formidable task of transforming characters written as villains into people whose prejudices, though painfully unjustified, can still be understood. Klopfer gives young Anabelle unexpected sensitivity. More than just a racist bitch, Patton's aging matriarch is a woman who, unable to accept her status as "poor white trash," clings to a delusion of superiority, the dying idea of white supremacy. In contrast to Herman's identification with Blacks, his mother hates them because she needs someone to despise in the same way that she suffers the condescension...
...Topsy and Bootsie and Kiki. Folks around the office just have faces, but Vanessa "wore her long nose as if it were the mark of royal birth." Time must be spent learning to understand their odd way of bantering: "Daisy Valensky, you have the makings of a first-class bitch somewhere inside that glorious exterior." The untrained ear probably misses all kinds of nuances there. What to make of Daisy's typical dialogue: "Pants? What about your good black crepe Holly Harp pants?" Clearly, the only way to see Daisy as something other than a simp is to plunge...
Meryl Streep's Joanna is equally well-studied. Streep could have let herself fall into the role she played in Manhattan--the spiteful, surly bitch. But her Joanna is three-dimensional, the unquestioning young mother, the frustrated wife, the desperately independent career woman. She evokes sympathy where others would be satisfied with hatred. Justin Henry's Billy is not just another in the string of Tatum O'Neal-styled brats. The kid is no actor and the natural touches he adds--the smirk over a pint of chocolate chip ice cream, amusement at watching his father ruin the french toast...