Word: elfin
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...contrast in style between the two editors could hardly be more acute. Winship is elfin, effervescent, demonstrative and unassumingly rumpled. He tells stories of his financially modest youth and calls himself a "swamp Yankee." Janeway is shy, sardonic, reserved and elegant. He has the seigneurial manner befitting a son of Economics Columnist Eliot Janeway and Author Elizabeth Janeway (Powers of the Weak). Perhaps the only obvious characteristic the men share is that like dozens of their staffers they are graduates of Harvard, yet they agree on the problems the paper must correct...
...passionate reminder that rock-'n'-roll greatness rates a little patience. It also neatly marks an unexpected passage: yesterday's eminences energetically navigating their own channels of continuity. The past few weeks have seen major new releases not only by Dylan, but by Paul McCartney, elfin as ever; the Rolling Stones, who are still boogying on brimstone; and Paul Simon, still the musical poet of spaces between people where irresolution can kill passion with a shrug. These records are of varying quality, but all share a surprising point of unity. Yesterday is not just a memory, Dylan...
...before its lens. The wide, gray-green eyes send out satellite signals of precocity or perversity. The dewy skin holds, on the left cheek, a tiny scar, like a bookmark in a turbulent autobiography. The lips, extravagantly full, can pout or preen or tauten resolutely or open in an elfin smile. The long Botticelli neck carries the eye to a strange and strong body, with delicate breasts, expressive musculature and the strong haunches of a peasant girl or a centaur. Kinski is a true camera animal because these disparate, classically mismatched parts combine sensationally well. Looking at her, the spectator...
Dignity is a quality that Shroeder Duncan, the laid-back loser of Murphy Guyer's Eden Court, would gladly settle for. Murphy has a dead-end job, a cluttered mobile home, a cynical pal (Steve Rankin) and a wife (the elfin Holly Hunter) who still carries a torch for Elvis Presley. This comedy's ambitions are no loftier than Shroeder's; it is just a tasty slice of lowlife, but full of sweet feeling for its tattered eccentrics. As Shroeder, Actor-Playwright Guyer is a brown study of the good ole boy, wondering what ever happened...
...overhead toward their own peaks. The slopes adjoining the course were streaked with skiers of all levels of ability paying no attention. After the race, Mahre and Stenmark stood together for a time at the base of the mountain, still panting from their runs, Mahre bareheaded, Stenmark wearing an elfin cap topped by a ball of yarn. The ball bounced about slowly as the man who has won the most World Cup races of all shook his head, and then he shook Mahre's hand. Later, asked how he would celebrate, Mahre said, "Oh, I don't know...