Word: elfin
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...ways. Broderick goes off-Broadway between film gigs and appears eager to tackle adult roles that will challenge him and his fans. Fox, though, seems to enjoy being a boy. His new movie hit, The Secret of My Success, finds him still comfortable in his old haberdashery: straitjacket and elfin grin...
With Rourke shambling smartly toward his doom, Bonet radiating elfin sensuality, and De Niro looking natty with his fancy jewelry and sulfurous smile, Angel Heart holds the mind and eye throughout. To be sure, even the most attentive viewer may still have one small question at the end: Whodunit? (Frankly, we think it was a satanic frame-up.) It is a question that could provoke more profitable debate than the needless fury raised by the rating board's attempted Heart transplant...
...elfin yuppie of TV's Family Ties, wears an earring and says naughty words but still looks as cute as a Disney toy. His fans won't forgive this film; they will ignore it. Rowlands, when she finally gets the chance, locates strength and heartbreak in her harridan matriarch. But Jett, rock star in her first movie role, is terrific. A sign in Light of Day reads PERFORMANCE IS A REFLECTION OF ATTITUDE. With her melodramatic dark eyes and mesmerizing surliness, Jett has the attitude and gives the performance. Try watching someone else when she is on screen...
Andy Rooney, the elfin curmudgeon of 60 Minutes, usually gripes about quaintly trivial matters like hand soap and junk mail. But in his syndicated newspaper column two weeks ago, he launched an angry attack on a more substantial target: his own bosses. Recent layoffs and the just announced demise of the CBS Morning News, he charged, were symptoms of a growing bottom- line approach to news that is unworthy of a once great network. "CBS, which used to stand for the Columbia Broadcasting System, no longer stands for anything," Rooney wrote. "They're just corporate initials...
...Capra was a master at building social comedy to the apex of hysteria, then pulling a happy-ending miracle out of his hat. Ron Howard, even after Splash and Cocoon, ain't these guys, yet. When he lets his film relax into hip facetiousness, and when Keaton parades his elfin jock swagger, Gung Ho is agreeable. But its relentless stereotyping of the Japanese provokes winces and worse. Its tone swings violently from pratfall to preachment, from an indictment of featherbed laziness to an extended beer-commercial celebration of the mythical American worker. Perhaps the brand of canny moral exuberance that...