Word: foamed
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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Perhaps no playwright today is more gifted than Anouilh at creating little dialectical monologues or variety turns, at giving a mockingbird's-eye view of a given subject. Dotted with bright remarks, The Fighting Cock half a dozen times foams up into pointed or picturesque little scenes. But instead of a sense of fermentation beneath the foam, there is a good deal of dramatic flatness. It is not so much that the play finds no destination as that it fails to dramatize the very lack of one. What The Fighting Cock needed, in the face...
...cluster of eight solid-fuel rockets) took off with a full-scale astronaut capsule perched on nose. No man was inside it, only a rhesus monkey named Sam and a collection of meal worms, bacteria, molds and other biological samples. Strapped to a kind of cocoon lined with plastic foam sat Sam the monkey, riding in astronaut's "chair." Sam and cocoon were enclosed in an inner, air-conditioned " logical package," thick with straps, wi and instruments to test Sam's reactions...
...musical markings out of a bag at random. But the volume makes up for the grab-bag text by reproducing almost every known work of Expressionist Cubist-Surrealist Duchamp, from his mustachioed Mona Lisa and famed Nude Descending a Staircase to the catalogue cover he decorated with a foam-rubber breast and the caption: "Please touch...
They did not have far to search, for television is shot through with major and minor forms of corruption. There are the phony commercials: the foam in the beer glass, which is often really soap suds; the home permanent on the pretty model, often the result of a two-hour session with a hairdresser. Last week, the FTC issued a complaint against Libby-Owens-Ford Glass Co. and General Motors, charging "camera trickery" on commercials, e.g., pictures were taken through open windows that were supposedly taken through clear plate glass. There is the blatant, organized sale of plugs...
...family dog "put away" without so much as consulting young Arthur. The inordinate attention lavished by Mrs. Bartley (Marsha Hunt) on her daughter's approaching marriage, plus the prosaic preoccupations of these prosaic parents, drives young Arthur to a basement escape with his contemporaries, where furtive beers foam up into braggadocio, cigarettes mingle with clumsy sex experiments, and draw poker alternates with the raw pathos that gives the picture its fleeting moments of real feeling. It is only in the quiet, anxious scenes of awakening love that Director-Co-Writer Philip Dunne manages to capture the pains and confusion...