Word: cow
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Blood on the Moon (RKO Radio) is a cow opera in which even the cattle behave convincingly. When they stampede, they look less like a spectacle than just a big nuisance. The bad men (Robert Preston, et al.) are also believable. Before Cowpoke Robert Mitchum gets mixed up in plot, he has a friendly shooting match with the rancher's daughter (Barbara Bel Geddes). She snipes at him as he tries to ford a stream. He retaliates by shooting the heel off her boot. At some point in this exchange of lead, love blossoms...
Perhaps the most convenient remedy for the educational gap in the Houses would be a series of informal bull and beer sessions. At first no big name experts would be called in to cow the undergraduate talkers. Tutors and graduate students might be invited, but only on the understanding that they stimulate rather than scare off the random thoughts of the other members. Some alert House secretary might announce an enticing subject one or twice a week--or, if all went well, several subjects for several talk teams. And if the matter of the meeting veered from the Vandalian invasions...
Anybody who has felt sweated levis bind around his thighs, smelled newly-branded cow hide and chewed on coffee grounds in a pouring rain knows the West contains more than sights and sounds. Yet by using those two elements and much imagination, Howard Hawks has produced a realistic interpretation of the outdoors. Red River is not a horse-opera; it is a great saga of the West, made without contrivance and make-believe...
...outdoors presented here is one of cloud-filled skies and dust-covered prairie. It is a world handled by a small hand of cow-punchers. They cope with their world not be shooting pistols in the air against a tastefully setting sun; they are more genuine than that. They stand guard in the rain; they gripe about their food; they get tried and try to quit. Not once do they leer at some dance-hall floozy in a clap-board Honky-tonk. "Red River" avoids this sort of bunkum and gives a convincing picture of a cowboy's existence, laced...
...last week, the Sacred Cow (once President Truman's personal plane) landed in Athens. Out stepped Secretary of State George Marshall, who had left his wearisome business in Paris to have a look into the even more wearisome business of Greece. Assembled to greet him, plainly a little embarrassed, were U.S. Ambassador Henry F. Grady, U.S. General James A. Van Fleet and Greek Premier Themistocles Sophoulis (who wore dark glasses despite the day's grey overcast). The Premier remarked that Greece's fate rested in George Marshall's strong hands. He might have added that these...