Word: crisp
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...final offering of the C.D.F. was Much Ado About Nothing, with Sir John Gielgud as both Benedick and director. Gielgud gave us a clean, crisp, meticulous production, beautifully and symmetrically staged in keeping with the symmetrical, Renaissance style of the play. Having played Benedick off and on for 28 years, he gave a performance that was marvelously nuanced. Still, as he himself has admitted, he is not an ideal Benedick. The part demands more brio than he has inside him to give. He plays the clarinet when he should be blowing a trumpet. Yet he was careful to choose...
...Colonel William Henry Rankin, U.S.M.C., sitting under the curved glass canopy of the lead jet, took his two-plane flight over an angry anvil of cloud, sat back casually as his eye ran across the instrument panel. Altitude: 47,000 feet. True air speed: 500 knots. It was a crisp, sunlit flight, and the only problem in sight was to bore down through the overcast to the rain-browned runways of the Marine Auxiliary Air Station at Beaufort, S.C., only minutes away...
Last week, as the House considered the President's request for $3.9 billion for foreign aid in fiscal 1960, the rivals took to the floor, soon moved from statistics and specifics to their basic philosophies. Said Otto Passman, dazzlingly arrayed in a crisp white linen suit: "First, we cannot spend ourselves rich. Second, we cannot make ourselves secure by giving ourselves away. Third, we cannot buy friends. We were once told that foreign aid would stop Communism. Now we are told it is our duty to buy our way of life for countries all over the world...
...Karim Kassem was man of the hour 24 hours a day, taking salutes at parades, laying cornerstones, playing host at enormous public receptions, receiving scores of delegations. Friday evening he orated steadily from 10 o'clock to 5 a.m. Finally on Sunday afternoon, ashen-faced with fatigue but crisp and erect as ever, Moslem Kassem strode into Baghdad's Roman Catholic Church of St. Joseph...
...Abdul Illah, clowns danced, balloons bobbed, Girl Scouts marched, a giant papier-máché fist rolled by on a float, clutching the viper of imperialism, and a military camel in the parade, poked playfully by happy patriots, turned and spat expertly in their eyes. And under the crisp salute of Premier Karim Kassem-hero of the revolution and a year later still very much the enigmatic hero of the Republic-Soviet T-54 and British Centurion tanks rumbled by in a two-hour parade of military might to the anomalous music of British marches...