Word: eyeful
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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Director Jan Hartman might, to good effect, have sat down hard on most of the members of his supporting cast: When the principals are off-stage, Robert Johnston's blessed quietude is the eye in a hurricane of overacting. Otherwise, Mr. Hartman has done a good job: his occasional attempts at comic business are almost uniformly successful. JULIUS NOVICK
...methods. In short, his work stands of its own strength. A comparison of Klee's work with a wall of Kandinskys opposite, is a course in aesthetics all by itself. The similarities involved are sufficiently tangible to have linked the names of Klee and Kandinsky in the public eye. The differences, however, are more significant. Klee is the depth and Kandinsky the surface. One rigorously defies tampering with; the other might be abandoned to the Freudian analyst without major aesthetic loss. It would be wrong not to mention, along with Klee, another painter whose work commands a similar respect, Lonel...
Last year Schleppey tried to retire to his 150-acre farm, but the composing-room wars in Massachusetts brought him back on the job. This summer Schleppey will have a cataract removed from his left eye, afterwards wants to do nothing but paint pictures and write a book on modern art. But for the time being, Strikebreaker Schleppey is still up for hire. Says he: "I'll never let these publishers down as long as I'm active...
...first to suspect his despotic ambitions. As France's First Consul, Napoleon had guessed, quite rightly, that Mme. de Staël "wanted to put him on guard against himself" and to play the part of mistress-adviser to him. But the Consul already had his eye on sylphish Juliette Récamier, wife of a Paris banker, had sent Minister Joseph Fouché to whisper in her ear: "The First Consul finds you charming." When, after Napoleon had become Emperor, Mme. Récamier still shied away, Bonaparte engraved her name forever in his so-called Great Book...
TRIGGER MORTIS, by Frank Kane (251 pp.; Rinehart; $2.95), starts shooting up the seamier side of Manhattan long before anyone thinks of calling the cops. Johnny Liddell, one of the hardest private eyes in town, takes on ex-pugs, Harlem hopheads, dance-hall dolls, a poverty-row pressagent and the alcoholic editorial staff of a scandal magazine in a two-fisted attempt to keep a client from being reminded of her days as a dancer at stag smokers. It proves only that when a girl gets into trouble there is always a good man around to get her out, provided...