Word: boyers
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Never meaning to spoil his idyl, François expands it when he meets and swiftly succumbs to a vivacious blonde postal clerk (Marie-France Boyer). The girl becomes his mistress, and he is happier than ever. One day, at yet another family picnic, his wife asks why. François forthrightly explains: "You, me, the kids, we're like an apple orchard inside a fence. Then I see another apple outside-." Though she is not at all sure that she likes those apples, the wife lets François make love to her once more while the children...
...guest star that Feldman can conscript. The picture already has more cameos than Cartier's-Peter O'Toole popped in as a bagpiper (his fee: a case of champagne), Race Driver Stirling Moss plays a chauffeur, William Holden is chief of the CIA, Charles Boyer is head of the French Sûréte, and Huston will be Bond's boss...
BELL TELEPHONE HOUR (NBC, 6:30-7:30 p.m.). "Masterpieces and Music," with Charles Boyer waxing rhapsodic over art works in the background, while Leontyne Price, Benny Goodman, Ballet Dancer Edward Villella and the New Christy Minstrels perform in the foreground...
Directors David Sloss (the music) and George Hamlin (the staging) have adopted this problem child and provided a musically competent, visually disastrous production unhappily married. The suburban couple (Richard Lee and Miriam Boyer) have adequate voices, but are sorely tried by Bernstein's libretto. Only Danny Kaye could enunciate some of the convoluted lines without dragging the tempos. Those scenes, which like Leete's locker-room soliloquy were more musical comedy than opera, were the most successful...
...neither Leete nor Miss Boyer knows how to move onstage. Leete occasionally relaxed enough not to look pained, but Miss Boyer was obviously frightened by the smallest prop manipulations. The general staging was no help. The two principals played against fuzzy, torn transparencies in a ramshackle slatboard set that was simply disgraceful, and moved underneath two ugly purple-specked quadrangles that had absolutely no function. An engaging jazz trio that sang mocking platitudes with Gleem-bright smiles was a lonely ray of grace amid the general desolation...