Word: humor
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...Frazier, 36, is an employee of The New Yorker, where during the past eleven years he has written occasional humor (Dating Your Mom, a collection, appeared last year) and factual stories, including the five pieces gathered together in Nobody Better, Better Than Nobody. On the surface, it would appear that Frazier does not exactly knock himself out with work. In fact, he confirms this impression, openly admitting to lallygagging on the job. In the first sentence of "An Angler at Heart," he confesses that he has often "taken a walk from the offices of The New Yorker along Forty-third...
...Douglas Wright, will snip their puppet strings and try to become the Paul Taylors of the '90s. They had better read this book, not only for a preview of the pitfalls ahead, but also for an insight into the nonartistic qualities that just might come in handy: guts, humor and, above all, stamina...
...that Elvis had followed this injunction regarding his slides and their grim meaning. Perhaps it is too much to expect of him, perhaps the audience's reaction shows that he is just a reflection of a more general misogyny. But this cannot excuse him. The slides, presumably added as humor, gave the concert a sinister feel. A musician need not be a propagandist of rape culture. David Woodruff...
Neither were his children, whose flights from home are cause for empty-nest humor. There is, for example, the irony of a successful junk sculptor sourly contemplating the marginal occupations of his offspring: a daughter who molds clay "pinch pots" in California; another who edits a genealogy journal in Cincinnati and is writing a "highly ambitious feminist novel called Ever Since Eve." One son makes mobiles, "unrequested by the world," while his brother tries to crack the Manhattan film world of "lost young souls stoned on media, pounding the sidewalks and virtually (who knows? -- maybe actually) selling their bodies...
...true Moliere fashion, none of Arnolphe's carefully laid-out schemes work, and the chaos that ensues has only been matched these days by the best of Blake Edwards' movies. Sagal takes considerable liberties with the script, further fleshing out Moliere's humor. Scenes take on a cartoon-like quality in the spirit of Chuck Jones' Looney Tunes. At times, Oleson becomes an Elmer Fudd buffoon. He stumbles over tree stumps and brings out an armory of weapons to battle his imagined enemies, looking ridiculously anachronistic in a World War I helmet...