Word: flair
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...edges toward the Elizabethan, Richard Burton's adoptive world, and the study of character develops an interesting flair with Mankiewicz' concept of a long-overshadow Antony who comes to hate the very name of Caesar...
...CLAUDIO ABBADO. 29. from Milan, had by far the most flair. He stood with feet planted as on a rolling deck, and with great sweeps of the arms drew a rich and textured sound from the orchestra. A pianist. Abbado had none of the usual percussive tastes of the pianistic conductor: instead, he even trusted the beaters and blowers in the orchestra to come in without cues while he painted tones in the violin section. Abbado studied at the Mozarteum and the Vienna Academy of Music, and in 1958 he won the Koussevitzky Prize for conductors at Tanglewood...
...Thirty-five old Dupuis is the Liberal Party's ace-in-the-hole, their answer to Caouette. Involved in Quebec politics since the age of 25, when he was elected to the Provincial Legislature, Dupis has been described as a Young Paul Martin, a powerful speaker with the Gallic flair of Caouette. His oratorical gesticulations have been on French television for the past six weeks in preparation for his contest in the riding of St. Jean-Iberville against Dollard Richard an influential member of the Socreds. Dupuis's line: "It's time to show that Caouette is doing nothing...
...dance-parched throats. In the streets, in the hotels and public halls, they shimmied and shook to the 2,650 songs composed for carnival. They drifted in and out of the city's uncounted thousands of parties, drinking, dancing and making friends. What they did, they did with flair and zest-all restraint was tossed to the warm breeze that blew in over Guanabara Bay. At one blowout alone, 110 revellers needed first aid treatment for exhaustion and alcohol...
Jean Seberg, as she was in Breathless, is depressingly effective as a small-town broad abroad, the sort of disinhibited Amie most Frenchmen earnestly implore to go home. Françoise Moreuil, Seberg's ex-husband, shows a pretty flair for direction in his first film. He keeps the story bouncing from pillow to Proust, and he bathes scene after scene in a morning light of such glittering purity that the spectator is simultaneously delighted by the physical beauty and disgusted by the morbid decadence he sees. It's like being served a dead mouse glac...