Word: blonds
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...question of torrid nude scenes. Rather, as she observes, "it's a strange sensation to play myself." Sophia is less flustered by her other part in Sophia, a TV movie based on A.E. Hotchner's 1979 biography. Indeed, she needs little more than a blond wig and her own vivid memories to portray her stunning mother, Romilda Villani, now 64. "My mother is everything," says the adoring daughter. "She is beautiful, instinctive and with the craziness of the artist in her, something I've had to control in myself." Sophia plays Mama to Letizia d'Adderio...
...white tourists to Kingston. One idiotically chic couple (he wears an Andy Warhol Interview T-shirt) lock the keys in their car and have to hire a Rasta locksmith. But the clincher comes earlier, at a club restaurant where Horsemouth's band plays fast-paced reggae. A bewildered blond tourist turns to his young bride and exclaims, "This isn't calypso...
...BODY at the edge of the railroad tracks refused to stir as the desert wind dragged the sand toward the rusty cliffs. The stiff blond hair stuck in jagged clumps to the forehead, and the two blue eyes glared, dead mirrors at the cloudless sky. They found Neal Cassady like a bloated Buick at the side of the road, when a tailpipe or a radiator couldn't fix him anymore, when a girl or a joint couldn't set him smiling, when his ex-friend Jack or his ex-wife Carolyn couldn't get him to talk...
Whatever their intent, the men who made Blue Lagoon blew their only shot at success when they decided to use sound. Our bleached blond hero discusses knowledge in these terms: "There are so many things I don't understand," he says. ". . . Why are all these funny hairs growing on me?" And later, angered at her lover's South Pacific hijinks, Ms. Shields shouts the classic words "I'll get you for this...
...Laughter, at the Old Moscow Circus already suspects what "doctor" from outer space is going to pop out of that tiny spaceship landing in the single ring, and their delight is tangible. Sure enough, what emerges is no astronaut, considering the oversize checkered cap perched on unruly shocks of blond hair, black velvet jacket, red scarf, clodhopper shoes and, of course, trademark potato nose. After 30 years with the circus, Oleg Popov, 49, is regarded as the king of clowns even beyond Soviet borders. How long did it take to dream up the medical mayhem in his latest laffer? Says...