Word: claddings
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...same cannot be said about BEVERLY HILLS COP (Harvard Square Friday), Eddie Murphy's star vehicle thinly clad in the guise of blood-drenched cop drama about bad people killing good people and good people killing bad people. There is nothing subtle about this movie. In fact, we are so painfully aware of utter disposability of the plot that we wish Murphy would just step out of the screen and dish out his lines stand-up style. If you need to see people kill each other, go hack up your dormmates...
...this desperation suggests a certain pathos, but little can match the pathetic, yet typically wry, desperation of Woody Allen's THE PURPLE ROSE OF CAIRO (Harvard Square, Sunday). Superficially, Mia Farrow sees her movie idol step off the screen, but the Safari suit-clad hero enters not reality, but the world of movie-madness, the realm of the film addict who knows reality too well to want to face it. "You're a wonderful person," Farrow tells her dream man when he arrives in the flesh. "You're fictional, but nobody's perfect...
...that Mayor Koch hopes we don't see. Not that Soho after hours doesn't look like an interesting spot, offering the prospective tourist an endless range of entertainment possibilities, ranging from punk rock clubs decorated in a nouveau underground garage to slimy bars frequented by leather and spike clad homosexual bikers. But this is not the kind of thing New York Air tells the folks from Des Moines about. As the camera pans across the city streets slicked down a la Miami Vice, we find ourselves inexplicably drawn to the omnipresent danger and bizarreness that fills the air like...
...Californian, sipping Bud and surveying the twisted trees bending in the wind. "Why sit indoors? None of the soaps are on TV. Why watch the news when you can see the hurricane with your own eyes?" Danger? "Who cares about flying roofs and airborne automobiles," said the student, clad in his finest hurricane garb: shorts, a t-shirt and Ray-Bans. "I've got eyes, I can duck." Nice shades...
After his half-hour wait in the Business School parking lot, Joe Freshman, neatly clad in Weejuns and Cheenos, eagerly pulls the family's Ford up in front of Wigglesworth. He visits the superintendant, fumbles with the key to his entry, and then--apprehensively--unlocks the door to his suite...