Word: illya
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...veritable "enemy of Greek tourism," concluded Greece's ever-watchful military dictatorship when they heard some of the things Actress Melina Mercouri, 41, star of Broadway's Illya Darling, was saying about her homeland-like advising folks not to visit Greece until the soldiers go away. Therefore, Brigadier General Stylianos Patakos solemnly announced in Athens that the regime was stripping Melina of her Greek citizenship and all her property as well. "I was born a Greek and I will die a Greek," snorted Melina. "Patakos was born a fascist and will die a fascist. If he wants...
MELINA MERCOURI: ILLYA DARLING (United Artists). The best thing about the current Broadway musical is Melina, and not surprisingly she is the best thing about this musical distillation of it, delivering five of the songs written by Manos Hadjidakis with lyrics by Joe Darion. Amidst the jingly rhythms of the Greek taverna, Melina's breathy bedroom voice stirs a sensuous mood in Piraeus, My Love, is slyly wistful in the Medea Tango as she sings her own version of the myth, and as joyous as ever in her theme song, Never on Sunday...
...more than he is. And the traces of Napoleon Solo cool--the clipped flippancy and modest arrogance--only heighten the unwarranted but inescapable disillusionment. You want to put him back into his element, the televised make-believe of T.H.R.U.S.H. villains, walkie-talkie pens, tranquilizer guns and the resourceful Illya...
...Illya Darling is a 15-watt musical with one trace of Greek fire-Melina Mercouri. She plays furiously across the footlights to keep audiences from realizing that there is nothing behind them. Flaccidly adapted by Jules Dassin from his film Never on Sunday, the stage version lacks the three elements that gave the movie a certain credibility as a holiday of the senses, the Greek...
...harborside atmosphere of Piraeus and things Greek, Illya need never have left the port of Manhattan. Except for the sterns of a couple of steamers, the sets are routine Broadway. Manos Hadjidakis' diluted bouzouki score is slumberously unvaried, and no number equals the appeal of the repeated Never on Sunday. The dancers spin like zany revolving doors and slap themselves like victims in a mosquito plague, and there is never the faintest hint of those teasingly slow, sinuous Greek male dances that seem to be sculptured...