Word: maxed
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...decided to marry Max Dominique, the tall (6ft. 6-in.), handsome presidential officer who stood behind her father on ceremonial occasions. Papa Doc was enraged; he had wanted a lighter-skinned son-in-law, and Max was very black. But Dédé won. Max was ordered to divorce his wife, who was paid a rumored $30,000 before she and her two children were shipped off to Jamaica...
...while Max was commanding Port-au-Prince's military district, a letter turned up on Papa Doc's desk accusing him and 19 other officers of plotting against the government. The other 19 were executed, but Dédé man aged to coax her father into sparing her husband. She and Max were allowed to go into exile, and Max be came Haiti's Ambassador to Spain. Eighteen months later, Dédé returned to Port-au-Prince and deftly arranged the removal of her enemies from her father's palace staff. When Max...
...battle of wills with Papa Doc and survived. And local bocors (voodoo witch doctors) claim that she, alone among Duvalier's brood, is his "spiritual daughter." Jean-Claude seems certain to wind up wearing the presidential sash, but it seems equally likely that Dédé and Max will run things once the ailing Papa Doc, 63, takes his leave...
...chorus in the finale. Following this bent, Ogdon has become one of the exponents of the current romantic revival. That revival has helped bring forth a small anthology of minor works by major composers (Liszt, Scriabin), as well as some ingratiating works by minor composers (Charles-Henry Valentin Alkan, Max Reger). Ogdon, currently engaged in a six-week tour of the U.S. and Canada, is pleasantly matter-of-fact about this special musical taste: "I've always been interested in out-of-the-way composers, although it's a mystery to me why they...
...Balkans proves enchanting: it's one of those great, outlandish movie ideas which only a philistine could conceive of, and only a moron botch. The Last Valley is the first film in a long time to present effective bucolia, even if John Barry's music, today's answer to Max Steiner's, rumbles ever-ominously in the background...