Word: claddings
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...Benson." For two years, he spread the Mormon gospel through the slums of Newcastle, hard hit by postwar depression. Clad in workman's pants and a green turtleneck sweater, young Benson became a familiar figure preaching to groups of unemployed on street corners. He organized athletic clubs, ran picnics, signed up converts. Many a Newcastle oldtimer still refers to him fondly as "our Benson." Said one last week: "He spoke with the voice...
...entirely unconventional style by Producer-Director George (A Place in the Sun) Stevens. One of Hollywood's most painstaking craftsmen, Stevens for the first time has turned his individualistic director's talents to a western-and with striking results. From the opening shot in which buckskin-clad Shane, a sort of blond Apollo of the plains, rides into view on a roan horse, the film is marked by the kind of distinctive, richly detailed picture-making that is scarcely ever lavished on the most high-toned movie drama, let alone a western...
...Clad in pajamas, lying in bed, Mohammed Mossadegh, the old man of Iran, played the waiting game. Five times in two years either Britain or the U.S. had hurried to his bedside with offers to settle the dispute over Iran's nationalization of the Anglo-Iranian Oil Co.'s billion-dollar properties. Five times he said no. Each time he left the door ajar and each time his callers returned bearing still more tempting offers. For the longer he waited in his bed, the weaker Mossadegh seemed, and the more anxious the West grew to prop...
...imagination. Simpering store-window dummies posed on the uncomfortable upholstery of government-surplus furniture. A laughing two-year-old perched precariously on the back of a chaise longue; a young woman postured in leg-revealing shorts. Upstairs a sleek blonde feigned innocent sleep. In one cellar, pajama-clad parents had herded their kids into wooden FCDA shelters, as if they had just been awakened by the wail of a warning siren. In every room, dummy Americans waited for the works...
...iron gates. The Premier of Iran did not wait to see who was knocking. He bounded from his bed and scooted out the back door, to the nearby compound of the U.S. Point Four program. There he caught his breath, then scurried to the Majlis building. The incongruous, pajama-clad frame of the wrinkled Wizard of Persia burst into the middle of the closed session. Mossadegh announced that he was claiming bast, the traditional privilege of political sanctuary...