Word: glows
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...director, seems unable to coax any interesting colors out of a supporting cast of usually excellent players. His action sequences, strikes, and strong-arm stuff in the early days of the union are congealed. When he is not having Cinematographer Laszlo Kovacs bathe the hard times in the golden glow of false nostalgia, his moviemaking is without dynamics. Vague and distant, it offers a succession of clichés instead of a concrete sense of the class or the lives the film is pretending to examine. About all that can be said for "F.I.S.T." is that it does...
This semidocumentary is an attempt to dramatize case histories of people who have somehow revived after having been pronounced dead. The film stresses the similarity of their experiences in the twilight zone: a sense of hovering above their beds, a trip through a prettily lighted tunnel toward a bright glow, pearly gates (or something quite like them symbolically), the whole accompanied by warm, sensual feelings. Many, of course, catch a glimpse of God along the way, and they all make The End sound infinitely preferable to a case of the Russian flu. But the film is so simplemindedly earnest...
Last fall, on the first day after summer layoff, the real Balanchine told her, "I would like to do something for you." It was Ballo. Her huge almond-shaped eyes glow as she remembers that morning. "He told me that a new ballet is like putting on a new coat. You have to move around in it awhile before it is comfortable." Not too long, however. Balanchine began with a structure for Ballo, but no steps. Says Ashley: "He wears these clunky shoes and does funny things with his feet. Then you move and he looks. My pas de deux...
Then he started to play on the prison's beat-up piano. As the glow of the gospel music touched the audience of disheveled, jean-clad and self-segregated men-blacks seated on the left, whites on the right, Chicanos in front-they began to thaw. Black prisoners started to sway, clap their hands rhythmically and shout an occasional hallelujah. One white inmate drummed his tattooed fingers and pulled at a diamond ornamentally embedded in his ear lobe...
...Middle East, of course, is strewn with the ruins of old hopes for peace?colonial commissions, the corpses of assassinated mediators, United Nations resolutions signed but unhonored. Despite the euphoric glow last week in Cairo and Jerusalem, no one who has long watched the region's affairs was likely to announce: "Peace is at hand." Anwar Sadat had headily mixed statesmanship and showmanship, but that is a volatile combination. The very headlong momentum that Sadat had forced raised the question of whether he was practicing a durable diplomacy...