Word: gents
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...when citizens sent off their tax forms marked "sealed with a kiss," knowing Uncle Sam would use the money to right wrongs, build bridges and comfort the widows and orphans. But has anyone seen Uncle Sam recently? There is a rumor that the Nixon team took out the old gent two decades ago. They found him rattling around in a back office, raving about health care and housing and a few spanking-new pieces of infrastructure to plop down somewhere -- and they quietly sealed the door. It was a coup of sorts: the death of government and its replacement...
Dennis Muren, senior visual-effects supervisor at ILM, has become a familiar figure on Oscar night, both because this was his seventh Academy Award and because he is a towering gent with lank white hair and a serene face. That picture -- of a modern Merlin holding a gold totem -- is appropriate, for Muren, 45, is a wizard in the movie craft of computer graphics. In the bland ILM barracks in San Rafael, Calif., he and his merry alchemists wave a little wand over their Silicon Graphics VGX 340 terminals, and out comes the magic...
...provides one more reason to view alternative medicine with fewer snickers and a couple more nods. And while we're nodding, better do something about that migraine. Cut out the coffee, take the herb feverfew twice a day. If that doesn't work, there's always the old Chinese gent uptown with the needles...
...wonders at the controversy. One might expect sexual fireworks aplenty in the literary love story of Henry Miller (Fred Ward) and Anais Nin (Maria de Medeiros), two residents of the sex-as-art pantheon, and their put-upon spouses (Uma Thurman and Richard E. Grant). But Kaufman is a gent who dreams, ever so fastidiously, about nymphs and satyrs. And here he cannot find the moviemaking skill to suit his fine passion. His actors look stranded; with the exception of the tremulous, bewitching De Medeiros, they indulge in huff and bluster. As for the sex that got Henry & June...
...flowers speak to God, who is either black or George Burns. When you arrive (by elevator or escalator), a choir as big as a Nuremberg rally greets you. But if you are the prematurely dispatched hero of a film fantasy, you won't stay long. Some dignified gent -- Claude Rains or James Mason -- will serve as celestial flight attendant for a poignant return trip to earth, where you will perform the one deed that makes your life fulfilled and your death noble. A dead man always gets his last request in Hollywood heaven...