Word: careen
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...RULE, Edward Albee's plays should be protected from the efforts of well-meaning regional theaters. Relying upon sensitive emotional portrayals for their impact they too often fall prey to overblown actors who careen their way mindlessly through an evening of moral reproach and abuse. Even the most inveterate lover of psycho drama will find himself wishing that someone would simply draw a gun and cut short the agony. If Albee were there he would do it himself...
...only to careen down on that scene with my car and my white authority...they would have their lives summed up for them officially at last by me, the white woman--the final meaning of a day they had lived I had no knowledge of, a day of other appalling things, violence, disasters, urgencies, deprivations which suddenly would become, was nothing but what it had led up to: the man among them beating their donkey. I could have put a stop to it, the misery; at that point I witnessed. What more...
...this production, bare except for white gauze strips concealing the huge number of props trotted out for each scene. While this staging does evoke the circus-like atmosphere Mayakovsky wrote into the play, Sellars does not overcome the audibility problems inherent in theater in the round. As the actors careen about the stage, whipping out their lines, each section of the audience gets to hear a few words, but no one hears the entire sentence. While this mayhem may be intended to suggest the decline of human sensitivity and individualism, it succeeds only in depicting the decline of good diction...
...open-windowed toilets were placed off limits by 15-year-old militiamen, and reporters could only occasionally go outside to breathe. When the Cambodians permitted us a visit to the main temple, the bus driver was so uneasy about the possibilities of an ambush that he tended to careen erratically among the temple clusters. One driver was so anxious to cross the Angkor Thorn moat leading to one of the temple complexes that he banged his bus against the bridge railing...
FASTEN SEAT BELTS PLEASE. The light blinks on overhead, we sink into our seats and careen off into the wild blue '80s. And it becomes harder and harder to analyze and thus understand the slothful indulgences and psychotic tendencies of that great unruly beast, the American Imperium. Our best writers have tried--and mostly failed--Pynchon, with the wondrous Gravity's Rainbow, a critical mass of incendiary pages, and McGuane, with his taut vision of love and death in the Florida Keys, 92 in the Shade. No wonder there is so much yearning for that time of the superego...