Word: chins
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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Rohmer's telling of the story is highly stylized. The actors speak in rhyming verse, and much of the narrative is provided by a chorus, playing medieval instruments. Luchini is more a suggestion of a knight than a knight himself. With a receding chin, concave chest, and dangling, half-open mouth, he looks as if he would be afraid to kill a mouse with a trap, much less joust with a man in armor. The sets are also symbolic, rather than realistic-sculptured trees, cardboard castles, painted skies-and they have the strange beauty of a Dali painting...
...wound up as the proprietor of the Cavendish Hotel, a slightly raffish establishment catering to the upper crust. Successes like Rosa's require bullheadedness and a certain animal cunning, qualities that Actress Gemma Jones mimes impressively. Her Louisa is a furious wren, an unbreakable China doll with a chin shaped like an eggshell and hard as a rock. "I just wanna be the best cook in England," she decides early and proceeds to bowl over the world that stands in her way. "What the bleedin' 'ell?" she hollers in florid Cockney when things go wrong. Pity the nobleman who tries...
Unfortunately, Patrice Dabrowski as the spoiled, malicious Mary Tilsford fares worse. Mary is a brooding manipulator, but Dabrowski plays her as a stereotyped bratty kid with stuck-out chin and petulant voice. While she sporadically succeeds at suggesting evil incarnate--especially in her scene with the frightened Rosalie--she never presents an appropriate psychological portrait, leaning always toward caricature...
...duty. Des Moines, Los Angeles, Baltimore ready to ask questions. President does not eat. Already been up several hours. He sips water. Puffy eyes. Still tired from Camp David. Delicious fatigue. New spirit in room. Respect from press. Carter easier. Abe Lincoln looking benignly down from the wall, chin in hand, elbow on knee. Carter with chin on thumbs, then arms around knees...
...Oooooh...Mmmmh, ooh, that's a very hard question. If I knew the answer, I would tell you." A. Bartlett Giamatti can't say why he accepted the offer to become president of Yale University last winter. He rubs his chin, shakes his head a little, pondering the question. He screws up his soft face, where a little bit of a goatee outlines his chin--but it's really in his eyes. His brown eyes grow misty and far away; and the deep sighs, mixed with a sad chuckle or two reveal a man somewhat puzzled by his situation...