Word: chaplin
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...than a gadget that seems almost too practical to bear. Like the first model T, the Murphy In-A-Dor bed. which folded up into a closet, was laughed into fame, and so into the annals of genuine Americana. Millions who never owned a Murphy bed had seen Charlie Chaplin wrestling vainly with the contraption in One A.M., roared with glee when it finally flipped him into the closet. William L. Murphy, who invented the bed in the early 1900s, stoutly insisted that no such outrage ever happened in real life. But sales soared, and the Murphy bed became...
...swarming demand for studio space has revived and even expanded old movie lots that had been virtually silent almost since the silent movie days. In the Kling Studios where Charlie Chaplin made The Gold Rush, and on lots that twinkled with the names of Theda Bara, Mary Pickford, Harold Lloyd and Janet Gaynor, TV now grinds out commercials and films-Burns & Allen, Ozzie & Harriet...
...outburst of whimsy, with gesture to match, veteran Comedian Charlie Chaplin, celebrating his 68th birthday at his Swiss chalet, piped: "When you're 68, you don't want to cut a birthday cake. You want to cut your throat!" Chaplin's devoted wife, Oona O'Neill Chaplin, 31 and soon expecting her sixth child, laughed nervously as Chaplin displayed a frighteningly realistic flash of his old pantomimic genius, faintly tinged with...
Globetrotting Gossipist Leonard Lyons bumped into a recent visitor at the Swiss villa of aging (67), London-born Comedian Charlie Chaplin, relayed a report on Chaplin's daughter Victoria, 5, and her musing about a sixth child imminently expected by Oona O'Neill Chaplin: "The youngster said: 'When I was in my mother's tummy, I thought my father was Spanish.' The visitor asked: 'How long did you think that?' The child said: 'Until I was born-and then I heard him speak English...
...casual visual epigram. His camera, like a wise old pickpocket, filches its riches unobtrusively. And the actors seem to fulfill the creator's intentions as naturally as if they were his hands and feet-even De Sica does exactly what De Sica wants. Toto, Italy's Chaplin, is exquisitely funny. Loren's parts fit beautifully into the whole. Mangano for once is convincing, and Paolo Stoppa, as a man who wants all the pleasures of suicide without its aftereffects, is superb. Perhaps best of all is little Piero Bilancioni, who sits to his cards with the ancient...