Word: losely
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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With the federal capture of Owerri two weeks ago, Nigeria's civil war entered a new and perhaps final phase. Secessionist Biafra, now less than one-tenth its original size, holds but one important town: Umuahia. Should it fall, Lieut. Colonel Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu would lose his last physical claim on breakaway statehood and be forced, if he is still able, to carry on his fight for Biafra's Ibo people from the jungle. As it advanced slowly but steadily on Umuahia last week, TIME Correspondent Edward Hughes joined Nigeria's 3rd Marine Commando division. His report...
...more than smash door-prizes to draw us into the moments of the movie. I suggest that Tim Hunter does not really care about telling a story. If he puzzles us with the mystery trail, it is only to involve us in seeing. (Problem, of course: some will lose the present moments in anticipation of the future moments. That is how most of us live our lives. That is how some will watch this movie. Tell us a story, please. Lead us to the end. Perhaps my purpose here is to insist that 3 Sisters does not march...
Holy Cross beat Yale in the opener last fall. Yale won the Ivy title and didn't lose another game the whole season. Harvard has suffered injury after injury. If the offensive line can hold off the Crusaders long enough for George Lalich to pick out Pete Varney, Harvard has a shot. Otherwise Holy Cross passer Phil O'Neil may get enough help from the Crimson's inexperienced secondary to carry the day. This is a real pick 'em and, as my father's son. I pick Harvard...
...wondering, self-exploratory conversations. "It is like being married," said one hat wearer. "No," replied another. "It is more like being tied with the same umbilical cord." "Do you feel you have to participate?" one hat wearer asked his neighbor last week. "Yes," she replied. "Otherwise I'll lose my hat." "Lose my hat!" repeated Byars with delight. "That's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard...
...Story is a French production, it, too, boasts an American director, the prodigious Orson Welles, adapting an Isak Dinesen anecdote. The works of the Scandinavian taleteller resemble rows of icicles, gelid, brittle and pure. To bend them is to break them; to lend them warmth is to make them lose their integrity. Even Welles has been unable to fashion more than a laborious, misshapen exercise. The reasons are obvious. This is his first film in color-an inappropriate mode for a fiction written in etched, formal prose, devoid of the sensual palette. Secondly, because the movie was made for television...