Word: gielguds
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...child with haunted eyes had rushed into a place of light; and from that night, the greasepaint stick became his lollipop. In 30 years of play acting. Alec Guinness has made himself one of the most expert living masters of his craft. On the stage he ranks with Olivier, Gielgud, Richardson, in the Big Four of British acting, and he is recognized as the most gifted character actor of the English-speaking theater. On the screen his 17 films-among them such comic classics as Kind Hearts and Coronets, The Lavender Hill Mob, The Man in the White Suit...
...devoted husband and father. He met his wife Merula, an exactress, when they both played in Noah (1935)-she was a tiger, he a wolf. Son Michael, 16, attends Beaumont College near London. Though he makes few friends, Alec is intensely loyal to those he has-Actors John Gielgud, Peter Bull, Michael Gough, Actresses Kay Walsh, Cathleen Nesbitt, Irene Worth, Director Peter Glenville are among the closest. Alec is a generous man. Nothing is too much trouble or expense if it helps a promising young player. Despite his shyness, he is stubborn, determined, and has a strong sense of human...
...which was spent for theater tickets. Guinness was good at the job, but after 18 months he had had it. "I felt I had to quit, and do something about the stage." But how to begin? He knew nobody in the theater. He called his favorite actor, John Gielgud, who listened sympathetically and sent him to study with Actress Martita Hunt. After twelve sessions with the drab young man, she sadly shook her head. "You'll never make an actor, Mr. Guinness...
...eating one meal a day (usually baked beans on toast), he managed to survive, and even to see a regular Saturday matinee. At school he worked hard; after hours, he tailed pedestrians all over London, mimicking their gait and gestures; and at the annual recital, the judges-Actor Gielgud among them-gave him a top prize...
Hamlet (RCA Victor, 2 LPs). Sir John Gielgud, as a pensive, polished Dane, takes up arms against a sea of troubles with the able help of London's Old Vic Company, which is always impressive, if sometimes too elegant-sounding and static. In contrast to Sir Laurence Olivier's brasher, more youthful performance in 1948, Gielgud's version is resigned, traditional, declamatory; but it emerges as a memorable reading. All in all, from the creepy wind sighings and distant bells on the battlements of Elsinore in the first scene to the swordplay and slaughter of the last...