Word: cabs
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...author's capacity for developing his characters' humanity forces the reader to empathize with all of them--the wealthy white Europeans, black African cab drivers or Asian shopkeepers. His humanity does not extend, however, to his women characters--nymphomaniacs on whom he vindictively inflicts sexual abuse and mutilation...
...lowers his camera and looks in horror as, 100 yds. away, the tan blur of a 100-m.p.h. tornado wind crosses the road on which the truck is parked. That wind could easily send it rolling end over end like a kid's toy. Moore dashes into the cab, Moyer on his heels. "Get in!" he screams. "That son of a bitch is coming right at us! Now! Let's go!" He jams the truck into gear, and we race north. Behind, hardly the length of a football field away, the ground beneath the tornado is suddenly lost...
...double's personality, lest all belief in these improbable doings be lost. The result is that Peter Sellers, in the key double role, must play his part as the substitute king very straight. In this version he is not a gentleman, but a London hansom cab driver. Sellers makes something quite affecting of this honest workman, intruding his democratic values and lower-class common sense on Middle European court politics at the turn of the century. Sellers must save his best comic efforts for the prince's role. He makes him into a perfect twit, a gambling, womanizing...
...soon becomes clear that it is not going to be easy. Her sloppy, vicious cab-driving mother (Madeleine Thornton-Sherwood) turns up to excoriate her. A prison guard (Bob Burrus) has quit his job and accompanied Arlene to her Louisville flat, with the lecherous expectation of shacking up with her. He is an odd mixture of paternal solicitude and cruel menace. Her ex-lover and pimp (Leo Burmester) shows up. A smarmy swaggerer in an orange suit, he proposes to take her off to the rich mean streets of New York...
...accustomed to disappointment got rid of decades of frustration, standing to roar their joy for four full minutes. On the ice below, Center Phil Esposito danced around the rink sur pointe, a 37-year-old veteran turned little boy again. Later, revelers jammed the sidewalks along 33rd Street, and cab drivers set out to carry news of the victory through the city with blaring horns...