Word: heros
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...which, though it presents a flat and calcified Falstaff, and though on the page it may drag, nevertheless can, and did when I saw it, overflow with life. It is a farce with typically Shakepearian comic elements. For the most part everyone stays the same, there is no real hero, and the humor consists of the devices which were old hat to Aristophanes. But the pasteboard hero (Fenton) does get his girl (Anne Page), and Ford learns that he has been unreasonably, unnaturally jealous, and calms down...
...Beregovoy, lost in contemplation of a braless blonde's plunging neckline, barely managed a curt "how do you do." "Georgy," growled the official, "this is the constructor of the American Apollo." Beregovoy did not even look up. The official led Paine away, then went back and pried his hero loose with some strong words. "You see," he explained later, "we also have a swinger among our cosmonauts...
...Madame Dieudonne in her bamboo bed-Viet Nam and life at its languorous, loving best-who softens Clancy and does the implacable warrior in. Eastlake does not say. Whatever the cause, Clancy tarnishes his hero's image and lets down his troops as well. Deep in a forest he dies a slow, solitary death, while both his own side and the Viet Cong hunt for him as if he possessed some solution to the war, or perhaps to life itself...
...trustful flower children wandering through the jungle with a guitar and a button reading "I have a dream." Even they are not pure victims. Love and life may perhaps be enough for women, Eastlake sadly suggests. But men all share a terrible curiosity: What beast -or possibly what hero-will they turn into at their moment of private reckoning with...
...beautiful rough tracks. Starting on a technician tuning dials, it pans down left to electrical cords and follows them up across to an announcer whose voice we hear: "This is Radio Paris at Le Bourget . . ." Ae she moves into the crowd welcoming Andre Jurieu, France's latest aviation hero, the camera follows her. But the clarity of Renoir's usual tracks is gone. In the darkness of the shot only people's faces stand out; its closeness, and its high angle, let little more than the announcer and her microphone appear...