Word: drunkenness
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...waters hold untold secrets. The intensity deepens and comes to a climax in the third act: as in a horror movie, the normality of Antonia's surroundings only heightens the terror prescribed by Dr. Miracle. The epilogue finds Hoffmann back in the tavern where he began the evening-drunken, disheveled and disabused of idealistic notions, but inspired to write his feverish tales. For all its legerdemain, the staging provides an unsentimental, clear-eyed view of the only serious opera by the man whom Rossini called the "Mozart of the Champs Elys...
...They look lovely with their frothy tendrils waving delicately in Doc's fish tank, but they don't do much to advance the plot. Then again, the most poignant moment in the whole film takes place when Doc returns to his laboratory to find his equipment smashed after a drunken brawl and the octupi draped, quite dead, about the walls...
...fluttering tailspin-reaching bottom at a Dickensian snake pit where she was gang-raped by drunken G.I.s and subjected to every form of torture the psychiatric Establishment could devise, from shock treatment to massive doses of mind-bending drugs and, quite possibly, a transorbital lobotomy-is the stuff nightmares and film biographies are made of. Now a company of film makers is attempting just that: Frances, a $10 million movie starring Jessica Lange as the doomed actress and Kim Stanley as her wildly eccentric mother Lillian...
They are filming a scene that took place Oct. 19,1942, the night Frances was arrested for drunken driving. High on hauteur, Frances stands in the courtroom and taunts the judge with sarcasm. Then she realizes the consequences, asks to make a phone call and is dragged away screaming. Lange goes through the scene ten times-teasing, glaring, hating, crying, shrieking, allowing the camera to read the subtlest nuances on a face that remarkably resembles Farmer's. Graeme Clifford, Lange's editor on The Postman Always Rings Twice and her director on Frances, shouts "Cut! Print!" Lange goes...
...light is all but gone. One can barely make out the drunken, lurching figure in the center of the stage. "They still hate you!" he howls in a voice of blistered gravel. "They still hate you!" Two rifle shots ring out as if to verify his charge, and the man falls dead...