Word: knits
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...born in Gloucester on September 19, 1890. When he was big enough to shoulder a baseball bat, he started playing ball. "Just as soon as the snow was off the streets," Stuffy explains, "we'd be out playing under the lights with a yarn ball our mothers would knit for us. When we knocked the yarn apart, we'd pull it back together with black tape." Stuffy did his share of the knocking. In fact, his nickname resulted from it. Whenever the youngster would make a hit or come up with a hard grounder, the older boys he played with...
Frankie, in his usual knit tie and sharp suit, was there to receive a plaque from Mercury Records for selling 5,000,000 of their platters.* His cooey "gettin' kinda lonesome" style ("It feels good coming out that way") had come to him as naturally as a good night's sleep. But it had not always come that easily to his listeners...
...Rogue's regiment" is a pretty poor slice of life in the raw. The plot is hyper-complicated, provides for but one pier six brawl, and leaves enough loose ends around to knit a pair of argyle socks. People are killed aimlessly for the sheer desire to spill gore, the heroine is permitted to warble a couple of songs, and there are even a couple of inscrutable references to the Russians. The role of Vincent Price left this observer completely baffled. He run guns to the natives, helped out former SS men, and was in general a sort of catch...
...Violence (M-G-M), a realistic, tight-knit study in fear, hatred and revenge, is a well-made movie melodrama. Director Fred (The Search) Zinneman, who gets as much power out of his lens as if it were a fire-hose nozzle, deals this time with a deadly game of hide & seek. The fugitive is an ex-bomber pilot (Van Heflin) who once betrayed a group of fellow prisoners to curry favor and food in a Ger man prison camp. Stalking him with a maniacal single-mindedness is Bombardier Robert Ryan, the only survivor...
...didn't see the Lunts do this play, and it's hard to say how much of the staging is theirs and how much director Harald Bromley added, but the effect is well-knit and unobtrusive. I suspect the Lunts' edge over the Sidney-Loder duo was in making every shot count; some humorously intended lines in the present rendition just can't lug their point across the footlights. But that still leaves enough laughs and satire and embarrassing encounters of the "Uh-oh, look who's here" type to amuse you for a couple of hours--so long...