Word: ishing
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...birth of a veritable fire-breathing British dragon while the noble St. George and bands like Pink Floyd, the Yardbirds, and even Led Zeppelin were occupied with the last flashbacks of acid rock or otherwise engaged. Subsequently, two mutant musical offspring of thest evolved with the Godzilla-ish anti-heroics of Deep Purple, Bad Company, et. al. and the Kong-ish comparatively well mannered Queen and various courtiers. Well, personally, I don't care much more for the sugary-coated spring-bolts of, say, Queen's music, than I do for the sight of a drooling Fay-Wray-hypnotised Kong...
Improvised entirely from audience suggestion, the Next Move Review is, what they call in the business, more than a show. In fact, it is more than two shows, and even more than three. It is a different show every night it plays. The rotating cast members are all thirty-ish people-next-door types--versatile, and stocked with every improvisational trick in the book. One night last week, the actress near the top of the pile played, among other things, Liv Ullman, a second-grade teacher, a cabinet member, a sex fiend, and Pittsburgh, all in two hours. The next...
Formerly, Abdullah smoked nine packs of Gaullois a day, and had a "driving under the influence" record with the friendly men-in-blue rivaled only by vice-presidential hopeful Tom Eagleton. But--and this will be the biggest moolah to come down the old ivory tube since our last ish--he's taken the fatal step and pulled a fast one, so look out, world...
...reduced to less of an inexorable mishmosh of spare parts and erector set oil than he recently did to Stan Hansen, that Octopoid Bell-boy, JOHN KENNETH GALBRAITH had to be picked off the floor with Brillo and a sponge. And Bruno just used words!! (More about this next ish...
Belmondo's great backlash at the money-grubbing world has palled. We miss the scheming smiles and gleaming winks he projects so well, and even Bujold is having trouble lighting his Don Juan-ish spark. In a very late scene a telegram summons Belmondo to his uncle's deathbed, and he finally receives the chance to take revenge on the skinflint. He forges himself into the old man's will while his uncle helplessly looks on, eating his heart out but too sick to call for help. Yet even here Malle's directorial listlessness--intentional, no doubt, but unendingly strange...