Word: humoredly
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...Chicago Sun-Times circled warily, citing Roth's "generous use of the saltier nicknames for our reproductive organs and their congress with one another." In the New Republic, Critic Anatole Broyard tried arch humor, calling the book "a sort of Moby Dick of masturbation." Many newspapers and magazines fell back on tradition, using initials and dashes for familiar obscenities. Considering its usual soberness, the New York Times Book Review surprised its readers by permitting its reviewer to repeat verbatim some of Portnoy's sex-obsessed plaints...
...Smothers Brothers are also delving into black humor on their own CBS program. The other week, Tommy Smothers, having invited his first Negro house guest, stumbled over whether to refer to him as a Negro, colored person or black. Finally, upon the guest's arrival, he stammered: "Hi, boy-er, I mean, Bill." When the visit ended, Tommy said, "I would really like to have you over more often." Bill exited with: "Well, that's mighty white...
Nick Clark as Ma Marion and Jack Olive as Junior are in beautiful control of their parts and complement Patterson's sometimes undirected energy. Clark wields a strong umbrella, an even stronger arched eyebrow, struts and talks his castrating role for all its raucous humor. Olive, who doesn't have much of a singing voice, is almost obscenely comfortable on a stage, engaging and convincing as he puts across the show's only ballad. Randy Parry (Belle Bottom) develops the indifferent drunken daughter's part well, but is overshadowed by the sensational obscene clowning of Ed Strong and Randy Guffey...
...ring, then pirouettes so that the tittering ladies in the studio audience can admire his costume du jour. He has 27 of them-black tie for a filet steak Washington, for example, and a kangaroo-skin bush jacket for less formal dishes. He opens with a bit of humor or reminiscence, perhaps h;s somewhat askew impression of Terry-Thomas, perhaps some war stories about his days as chief catering assistant in the New Zealand air force. After that comes some pure kitsch. "Oh, I've got it all running down my chinny-chin-chin," he cries cutely...
Robert Aldrich's film is a fairly straight adaptation of the play by Frank Marcus, which opened in London in 1965 and subsequently came to Broadway. Much of the humor in the film comes directly from Marcus's script; Beryl Reid, who starred in the play, supplies the rest. As Sister George, she plays an again television actress who is being written out of her part in the soap-opera she helped to create. "They are going to murder me," she announces to her flatmate. "I've suspected it for some time...