Word: gigolos
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...Over the years, Hua's web of erotic and financial alliances unravels. Wealthy lovers tire of her imperiousness; the gigolo she supported (and whose exertions Zhang overheard that first day) has found younger flesh to exploit. She can't pay the tailor bills, yet Zhang remains her faithful couturier and courtier, flattering Hua on her waist size, whispering compliments to a woman in need of them and, finally, secretly, paying for the dingy hotel room she's forced to move into. Gratitude, or desperation, leads her to ask, "Do you have a wife yet?" "No." "How about...
...camera, John Berger once famously said, is a man looking at a woman. Movie romance is certainly a snapshot of a beautiful woman suffering. The main function of Chow?played by Leung as a sensitive gigolo whose smirk can mature into a sigh?is to direct our glance to all the fabulous women in the cast. The camera, mainly manned by Christopher Doyle, prowls around the women like a lover in the first flush of passion. It captures and caresses the actresses' radiance: Lau's bold sensuality, Faye Wong's elfin resiliency, Gong Li's fragile hauteur. Zhang...
...surprising that, unlike her male Saturday Night Live counterparts, Fey didn't make a movie in which she stars as a male gigolo or a former child star or a person with any kind of intestinal problem whatsoever. In fact, she didn't even make a movie in which she plays the lead. Instead, Fey wrote a script based on a nonfiction book, Queen Bees and Wannabes, by Rosalind Wiseman, who runs a nonprofit anti-rape organization for teens. And she somehow managed to beat Rob Schneider to the rights...
...will try to abstain from getting too dirty, and give the man credit: he manages to hold out for an entire song. But by the time the second track, Illusion, Coma, Pimp & Circumstance, comes on, he's pushing the throttle with some funk four-four and singing about a gigolo and his old bag of a client. "Ugly! So ugly, the bitch beyond compare/Dropped a couple hundred thousand dollars on a silver whip just to match the color of her hair...
This makes one appreciate Hugo Whittier, the narrator and quasi-hero of Kate Christensen's remarkable novel The Epicure's Lament (Doubleday; 351 pages), all the more. At 40, Hugo is a lazy, handsome, brilliant, bitter, unscrupulous trust-fund dilettante who--having failed miserably as a drug dealer, gigolo and writer--is rattling around his ancestral mansion in upstate New York, waiting to die. Hugo is a coldhearted bastard, or he likes to think he is, and he spews hilariously venomous bile on anyone who comes within range. He is also a snob, a genuine sophisticate who sits around musing...