Word: fretted
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...focus. For as the horror of the situation itself fades into a war movie cliche--complete with goose-stepping, bombing and all the rest of it--as the beauty of Anne Frank's character dissolves into naughty cuteness, we are left with eight people who flirt, fight, and fret in a disappointingly usual way. The play managed, without ever seeming to strain, to suggest how sustained tension and continuous confinement would affect them, while the film injects these changes artificially...
...converged on Mosul (pop. 200,000), near the ancient Biblical city of Nineveh. Seeing them, the local army commander, stocky, swarthy Colonel Abdel Wahab Shawaf, 40, member of a prominent Iraqi family (his brother is Kassem's Minister of Health) and himself an ardent Arab nationalist, began to fret. After last July's revolution Shawaf had proclaimed: "Naturally, Iraq will become part of the Arab Union." That was not Kassem's desire, nor that of the Communists who supported...
Strangely enough, those most affected seem to fret least about the apparent inequities of the peacetime draft. "I don't worry about the draft," says a Dallas high school student. "Why should I? There's no war." Says a Chicago draft-board official: "Most boys of draft age have never known a time when there was no draft.-They regard it as a part of their lives." And-Manny Celler & Co. to the contrary-for as long as the young men feel so, there are likely to be more numbers drawn in the long line of succession...
...school in West Side Chicago, the city's worst fire since the Iroquois Theater holocaust in 1903. In the case of the Berlin story, TIME'S function was to supply the information and intelligence that would help the reader to be knowledgeable about Berlin rather than to fret over it. In the case of the Chicago fire, TIME had another task-to take the facts of tragedy and mold them into a compelling narrative of misfortune and error. See NATIONAL AFFAIRS, The Chicago School Fire...
Drink to Me Only (by Abram S. Ginnes and Ira Wallach) is one of those titles that proclaim something farcical while not guaranteeing anything funny. The play is indeed an anything-goes sort of script, and all too much of it goes awry. Perhaps the producers decided not to fret over the script, thinking that the nub of Drink lay in the staging, in what that master of accelerating insanity, George Abbott, could pipe into a yarn of careening drunkenness. Director Abbott and his downer of Scotch, Tom Poston, constitute the brighter side of the occasion. But Drink...