Word: madam
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...late years of the Tang dynasty, an insurgency has arisen, led by the mysterious Flying Daggers group. Government officers Leo (Andy Lau, of Infernal Affairs) and Jin (Takeshi Kaneshiro) are assigned to stamp out the conspiracy. Their first stop is a bordello, where the madam tells Leo she has a lovely blind girl, Mei (Zhang Ziyi), to dance for him--a dance of love, deception and death...
...House of Flowers") each had three musicals revived, George Gershwin two ("Strike Up the Band," "Pardon My English"). His brother Ira did the lyrics for those and for two other Encores! specials ("Lady in the Dark," "Ziegfeld Follies of 1936"). Jerome Kern ("Sweet Adeline") and Irving Berlin ("Call Me Madam") complete the honor roll of indisputable Broadway royalty...
...whose final job as director, of his own play "Broadway," opened on his 100th birthday - either wrote the book for, or originally directed or produced (sometimes all three), eight of the shows revived at City Center: "The Boys from Syracuse," "Pal Joey," "Out of This World," "Call Me Madam," "Wonderful Town," "The Pajama Game," "Fiorello!" and "Tenderloin." He also directed the 1926 play "Chicago," whose musical version would become Encores!' biggest hit when it transferred to Broadway in 1996 (3,163 performances by this weekend). Abbott's shows were renowned for their verve, clarity and spot-on professionalism, qualities that...
...Unlike the elegant prose of novelist Anchee Min's 1994 memoir Red Azalea (Min was similarly plucked from serfdom to join Madam Mao's cultural crusade), Li's straightforward narrative rarely delves into agonizing emotional battles, nor does Li use his experiences to comment on social and political issues. Mao's Last Dancer is nonetheless a moving story, and considering the books dedicated to Cultural Revolution horrors, it's heartening to read that someone was able to dance his way through...
...three-hour whodunit extravaganza performed in the basement of Ristorante Marino in Davis Square. On Saturday night at 7 p.m., we warily make our way past sedate diners and down the stairs to the restaurant’s theater. Instantly we are accosted by a corpulent madam in a red silk dress. “Mama Marinara,” as she calls herself, presses us into her vast bosom before entreating us—or rather screaming at us like an over-the-top Italian matriarch—to follow her son “Riga?...