Word: forlornly
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...beginning to crack in some places and the bank seems small. Up the street, a drab, pre-fabricated government housing project stands alone, near completion, in the middle of a large barren lot. And directly across from Unity lies another lot--this one empty and muddy. But Unity's forlorn appearance and surroundings are deceiving...
...performers are generally outstanding, especially Gena Rowlands as the call girl, John Marley as the husband and Lynn Carlin as the forlorn and suicidal wife (it is her first professional role). Cassavetes' hand-held cameras move from closeup to unsparing closeup with the agility of a spectator's shifting eye-a spectator, moreover, who must constantly feel that he is committing an invasion of privacy. It is to the film's credit that Faces evokes a slight sense of guilt: the viewer keeps watching, even when he ought to avert his eyes...
...pile of upturned boat hulls rotting in the winter sun. The country store, the local garage with the inevitable Coca-Cola sign and the railroad tracks piercing through the barren hills like a steel spine flash by in a blur of fast cuts. And always there is the distant, forlorn sound of cowbell and gull cry, wind and heaving...
...bartenders at Rome's Eden Hotel, near the walls of Villa Borghese Park, have an unusual customer. He drinks little, but stays around for long, amiable conversations with them. He seems lonely and a little forlorn. One night recently he reached across the bar and poured his own drink. "I never had a chance to pick up a bottle for myself before," he explained. He is Constantine II, King of the Hellenes-restless and a bit bored by his extended exile from Greece...
...theaters like Manhattan's Paramount, playing for dancing at spots like the Glen Island Casino in New Rochelle, N.Y., echoing over the radio networks every night from hotel ballrooms across the U.S. All that has been relegated to memory-and to the big-band buffs. These are the forlorn breed of fanatics who can not only instantly identify Artie Shaw's 1940 recording of Stardust but can even name the trumpet and trombone soloists on it (Billy Butterfield and Jack Jenney), and who thrive as much on nonmusical nostalgia as on genuine musical connoisseurship...