Word: feverently
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Scott has never had much of a problem keeping his head out of the sand. When lobbying, manipulating and advertising for an Oscar reached fever pitch back in the early '60s, Scott sent a telegram to the Academy withdrawing his name from the nominations. His portrait of Bert Gordon, the ulcerous, vulpine gambler in The Hustler, is one of the modern screen's great essays in villainy, but not surprisingly, Scott failed to receive the Oscar...
...Snap. Still, there are signs in Hanoi of worn morale, reduced capabilities and painful reassessment. Aside from the war, North Viet Nam has borne more than its share of nature's blows in the past year-a summer drought and a fall flood, an epidemic of deadly hemorrhagic fever, an earthquake, and last week a cold snap that plunged temperatures in Hanoi to freezing. There was the loss of Ho Chi Minh -and, with him, the vision of Uncle Ho entering Saigon in triumph and presiding over a united country...
Still, Drs. Colin P. McEvedy and Alfred Beard suggest that the Royal Free doctors were wrong in concentrating on their tongue depressors and throat swabs and ignoring the emotional factors. For one thing, none of the victims died or even had a high fever, a most unlikely finding in an infectious epidemic. The known presence of polio in the area, say the psychiatrists, had made the hospital population fearful. After that, "anxiety must have been self-propagating and mass hysteria the major factor at work...
...master has made such points in films from Foreign Correspondent to Torn Curtain. But at 70, Hitchcock seems suddenly to have forgotten his own recipe. Topaz contains no chills, no fever-and most disappointing, no entertainment. By the finale, the predictability of every turn and the grossness of the heroes and villains recall the old gag about the espionage agent who whispered a code message to a locked door. "Wrong apartment," came the reply. "I'm Ginsberg the tailor. You want Ginsberg the spy, upstairs...
...that his best work, with its inspired inconsequentiality, seemed to exert not only a period charm but charm, period. Five years ago, a new production of Hay Fever (1924) by Olivier's National Theater Company set off a flurry of revivals and re-evaluations. The times seemed right for a look back at gaiety, and soon the brittle sophisticate of legend, clenching a cigarette holder and dashing off pages of decadent dialogue before breakfast, had become the grand old man of the English theater...