Word: hollower
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After Lady Macbeth's mind has cracked under the strain, Macbeth nearly throttles the Doctor for his inability to cure her. Gradually he becomes more and more disillusioned. When the last charm proves hollow and Macduff relates his Caesarean birth, Colicos does not yell his reply ("Accursed be that tongue that tells me so."), as usually done, but rather delivers it very effectively at a soft level...
...Hollow-Eyed Misery. And yet Jordan has been crippled by the war. The swarm of refugees crossing the Allenby Bridge from the Israel-occupied west bank has been reduced to a trickle, and the Israelis last week reversed their position and announced that refugees would be allowed to return to their homes...
...Amman, all schoolrooms and mosques have been converted into refugee centers, their furniture stacked in corners, their floors covered with straw mats and the mats in turn covered by ragged, hollow-eyed, miserable people. Ten new tent camps have been opened near Amman, but they are hardly more livable. Hot desert winds whip up sandstorms in the summer afternoons, choking the air and knocking down tents. Camp authorities fear that when winter arrives, at least half of their charges will freeze to death in the cold desert nights...
...remarkably finished for a repertory company opening night. Every element works toward lucid characterizations. Everingham stands the characters in close confrontation: Raskolnikov (Paul Glaser) who murders to test a philosophy, stands in a limp full shirt and baggy trousers next to John Lithgow's ramrod prissy Luzhin, the rich, hollow financee of Raskolnikov's sister. The lines of character like the lines of John Braden's sets are balanced, clear and instantly defined. Bea Paipert creates two brief roles, the hunched, old pawnbroker Raskolnikov kills and a crazy madam at a police station, in maybe three minutes of stage time...
...houses of "The Hashbury," shrouding the shapes of hirsute, shoeless hippies huddled in doorways, smoking pot, "rapping" (achieving rapport with random talk), or banging beer cans in time to ubiquitous jukebox rhythms. The tinkle of Indian elephant bells echoes from passing "seekers"; along the Panhandle of Golden Gate Park, hollow-cheeked flower children queue up for a plateful of stew, dispensed from the busy buses of the Diggers, a band of hippie do-gooders. Last week the sidewalks and doorways were filling with new arrivals-hippies and would-be hippies with suitcases and sleeping bags, just...