Word: hysterias
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...rope" from the title of a book of verse by Dorothy Parker. May sampled little of Parker's bittersweet wit, however, in constructing this glimpse of a bored, nervous girl who mimes her Judy Garland records to entertain herself. Only the precise direction by Lindsay Davis and the believable hysteria of Fran Davis, as the girl, Edith, save the play from coming off as a losing entry in a high school dramatic interp contest. Whether she is coating her mouth with red lipstick or trying to engage her neighbor Claude in conversation, Fran Davis evokes more sympathy than her role...
...pieces of Alka-Seltzer were added to reduce cravings for salt. Talk increasingly centered on food and on great meals they had eaten. One day rummaging for usable debris the bearded survivors stumbled across a stack of 40 plastic plates in the snow and laughed to the edge of hysteria...
...EVENING of May 15, 1970, an audience still spellbound by the labyrinthine connections of the Authentic Unconscious," the last of Lionel Trilling's Charles Eliot Norton lectures, left Lowell Lecture Hall to find streets barricaded with paddy wagons and helmeted riot troops, the Square ablaze with bonfires and theatrical hysteria. Whiffs of pungent tear gas later penetrated even the inner recesses of Adams House where guests at a reception for the Trillings sheepishly held wetted towels to their noses. That spark set off a Spring of agitation and activist preoccupations that left many a subtler or less relevant issue...
Moscow shed no light on the puzzle. Before the Albanian explanation but after Norwegian vessels had dropped depth charges in response to positive sonar soundings, Tass called the air-sea hunt "just an expression of the usual war hysteria in the West." Perhaps significantly, though, at no time did the Kremlin specifically deny that a Soviet sub-or subs-might have been inside Norwegian waters. At week's end, the mystery remained at least as deep as Sogne Fjord's 600 fathoms...
...burns her beauty aids with funereal ceremony, mourns her Maybelline in the sand, and ends by chopping her hair off with distraught, mechanical motions. Why is unexplained, lost somewhere in between Lazlo Kovac's dazzling photography and Rafelson's shortcutting. Understatement has degenerated into amorphousness. And Sally's final hysteria is just a sheen of sensationalism polishing off Rafelson's neat surface...