Word: klines
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...Self-styled player Barry A. Kline ’04 has been bragging about his “hos in different area codes” after hooking up in both Eliot and Cabot last weekend. Meanwhile, Gordon A. Braithwaite ’03, an Adams superintendant’s office employee, has been bragging about his “hos with different four-digit zip-code extensions” after delivering mail to several different four-digit zip-code extensions last weekend?...
...partly redeemed by the good cheer and polish of Foley and McColl (along with Toby Jones, a hardworking third wheel) and by the show's gimmick: each night a different "mystery guest? shows up to help act out the play within a play. Roger Moore, Nathan Lane and Kevin Kline have been among the stars lured onstage, invariably to an ecstatic reception. Alas, they too have to dress up like women...
Patsy Kline’s soulful belting is not the standard soundtrack of the Harvard Ballet Company’s usually classical repertoire. But tomorrow night, as Kline croons out “I Fall To Pieces,” the company’s major performance of the year does anything but fall down, much less into pieces. Instead, the edgy first act—which also includes a ballet set to the soundtrack from the movie pi and another danced to opera music—is followed by selections of George Balanchine’s renowned choreography...
Even the less technically demanding pieces are artistic in their own right. The Patsy Kline piece, choreographed by Liz M. Santoro ’01, is a soulful medley full of love-lost woe humorously exaggerated with over-the-top swoons and emphatic shoves. At one point in the medley, Kristin E. Ing, a student at the Graduate School of Education, performs to Kline’s “She Got You” in a solo for which the non-standard vocal music in the background makes the emotion of the dance even more potent...
Yuck, preppies. Beloved William Hundert (Kevin Kline) teaches classics at snooty St. Benedict's. He gets his toga into a twist over a brat named Sedgewick Bell (Emile Hirsch), a cheeky cheat in whom he somewhat mysteriously detects good stuff. The conventions of the genre usually dictate that the boy will ultimately reform. The considerable originality of The Emperor's Club (directed by Michael Hoffman) lies in the fact that the kid gets worse, not better, going on to sleazy dotcom millions and, of course, politics. This leaves the prissily played Hundert sadder and wiser. But it still may leave...