Word: mata
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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Rumpled and lumbering, with a line of patter as weary as his smile, agent Rupert Anderson looks miscast as a male Mata Hari. Yet here he stands in Mrs. Pell's hallway, romancing the sad beautician in hopes of securing testimony against her husband. It seems a cruel bit of FBI sleuthing -- until Anderson steals a glance at her hair. The glance passes as quick as guilt and as long as longing. From it we learn that Anderson knows more about women than we thought, and feels more for this woman than he should...
...designed his first dress when he was a little old man of five, and his mother wore it to a St. Petersburg ball. Mata Hari was a client, as were the Ziegfeld Follies, MGM, various opera companies and magazines as disparate as Harper's Bazaar and Playboy. Now a little old man of 95, Erte still astonishes, as is vividly demonstrated by the delicious retrospective Erte at Ninety-Five: The Complete New Graphics (Dutton; 192 pages; $75). His work is generally labeled art deco, but his wit, imagination and irrepressible flamboyance suggest a more fitting appellation: art Erte...
Ball--who also received an opening-round bye--smashed Soli Mata, 3-1, and then Mehmad Nathini by the same count...
...changed his mind about becoming an informant. Asked why the FBI had not followed up on the first two letters, U.S. Attorney Joseph Russoniello in San Francisco explained: "Not knowing who you're dealing with, whether it's Jack the Ripper or the greatest master spy since Mata Hari, an offer on the blind to do business is not the way we do business...
...jailbreak masterminded by the young matriarch who had fallen in love with one of the convicts--but the tone is pure High Hollywood elegiac. This is revolution as amour fou, which Diane Keaton knows something about from her turns as Louise Bryant in Reds and the frazzled Mata Hari in The Little Drummer Girl. Keaton and Australian Director Gillian Armstrong (My Brilliant Career) might seem to make a good protofeminist match, but the results are dour and disappointing. The film's strongest suit--Russell Boyd's sepulchrally seductive cinematography--ironicall y seals its doom. Mrs. Soffel (rhymes with woeful...