Word: epical
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...Every evening Britain recalled Sir Edward Grey's epic lament about the lamps going out all over Europe, never again to be relit in his time. The late August moon rode alone over a darkened city whose street intersections were marked only by thin crosses cut in the black paper masking their traffic lights. Dim blue bulbs picked out busses and subway entrances. Lord Halifax, returning across Downing Street from No. 10 to the Foreign Office after a night broadcast, could not find the keyhole, had to strike matches. In Hyde Park, antiaircraft crews stood by their guns through...
Cats may look at kings, but extras rarely criticize producers. Recently, however, Manila's Philippines Free Press carried a disturbing communication from one of the 1,000 members of Los Angeles' Filipino colony who have been working on Producer Samuel Goldwyn's $2,000,000 epic of the Philippine pacification, The Real Glory. "This Hollywood idea," railed Mr. Goldwyn's Filipino, "of 60 Filipino soldiers being made to cower and shrink by one Juramentado [a Moro fanatic who expects heavenly reward in proportion to the number of Christians he kills] appears to some...
When Al Smith bolted the Democratic Party, he simply said he would "take a walk." Analysts of Franklin Roosevelt's straddlebug epic could find in it, beyond the threat to bolt if he does not like the 1940 nominee, no threat to found a third party. But it did definitely, for the record, announce that Franklin Roosevelt will dictate the next nomination, or else...
...gives Fellow Prisoner Hood Stacey (George Raft) his opportunity to meet "the first really square guy I've ever known." It also touches off the most authentic and exciting prison picture since The Big House (1930), one of the noisiest sound tracks ever heard outside an airplane epic, enough slugging, shooting, bullyragging and brutality to make the most hardened criminal think twice before tangling with...
...have some beautiful Technicolor which almost succeeds in capturing the sweep of the Kansas plains. It may have Errol Flynn, whose drawing-room polish didn't come from western saddle soap. But it is still a horse-opera. It has the spirit of the old western epic, with the invincible hero who single-handed oan send packing every bad man in town, with beautiful bar-room wenches, and with more gun-fights than horses. And this should be enough for anyone...