Word: kittenishly
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Desirable Dames. What Bride's viewers see is a mishmash of kittenish domestic humor. Spring Byington lives with her daughter and son-in-law (Frances Rafferty and Dean Miller); a next-door neighbor, Pete Porter, adds a welcome touch of acid as a wisecracking foe of mothers-in-law, and Verna Felton plays a low-comedy crony of Spring's. Verna recently had a bit part in the movie Picnic, and when the film was on location in Kansas she got more attention from the natives than all the rest of the company. Director Joshua Logan was perplexed...
...this moral irresolution at Yale, but we view with astonishment the present inadequacies of those impeccable gentlemen from New Jersey. The Daily Princetonian has been parodied at least three times in the last three years, and the Tiger has not retaliated. Even when Princeton's proud flag disappeared, our kittenish friends did nothing to redeem this disgrace...
Married. Eddie Fisher, 27, wavy-haired TV and jukebox (I Believe) star; and Debbie Reynolds (real name: Mary Frances Reynolds), 23, kittenish cinemactress (Hit the Deck); in a surprise finish to a loudly publicized, twelvemonth, on-again-off-again romance; in Grossinger, N.Y. Then they dashed off to spend part of their honeymoon at a Coca-Cola (his TV sponsor) bottlers' convention...
There is Dincher the trumpeter, who thinks he can trade hot licks with Louis Armstrong; Timmy the homosexual dancer; Louella, a kittenish advance-guard poetess who wants to hang out with real cats; an impotent sadist who pushes (sells) junk to schoolchildren, and a sordid slew of others. Diane has a ball (doped-up good time) with all of them, but can't escape her own ritualistic premise: "There's nothing. There's nowhere, everything is empty." She ricochets from man to man in love affairs as monotonous as the click of billiard balls...
...sinister shadow play of symbols, Green tries to suggest that life is more than a kittenish spree. A pigeon falls dead on the first page; Julia worries endlessly about not packing her good luck charms, "her egg with the elephants in it, her wooden pistol and her little painted top"; a spindly mystery man gibbers in changing dialects about the grave illness of somebody's stricken aunt. Like signposts in limbo, these point everywhere and nowhere. And Party Going's old-fashioned pastime-noodling flea-brained upper-class Britons-is next door to limbo. Writing this novel...