Word: merci
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...usually opens on a serious note, a protest song that may be Jerry or Darlin' Cora or Tol' My Captain. He goes on from there to shouters (Lead Man Holler), love songs (I Do Adore Her), songs of thanksgiving (Merci Bon Dieu), an Israeli Hora (Hava Nageela). Belafonte has developed a remarkable emotional pantomime to match the content of his songs. In John Henry, he hunches his tall, lithe body (6 ft. 2 in., 185 Ibs.) in a half crouch, knots his fists, launches into the verses with teeth clenched and a spasmodic toss of his head...
...Plume generally favors the international language of leers and leaps, pratfalls and double takes, cupboards and manholes. In a season deafened with the rat-tat-tat of drearily mechanical gag shows, this alone would call for modest thanks. But, in La Plume's case, the quality of merci is not strained; the show shines by more than contrast. If a fair number of its exhibits fall rather flat, even they have high spots to fall from, and acrobatic performers...
...when the phone rang in the Cannes hotel room of Jean Cerrone, company manager of Manhattan's touring American Ballet Theatre. The news: a twelve-ton truck carrying most of the company's gear had gone up in flames. Cerrone mumbled "Merci," went back to sleep, 15 minutes later woke up again in a horrified double take. By the time he got to the scene of the fire, all the company's wardrobe trunks had been destroyed, along with scenery and props for twelve ballets, plus orchestra scores for four. Total damage, mostly coveted by insurance: about...
...Touch of the Sun, his title story, Sansom gives evidence that he is trying to escape the thrall of La Belle Dame Sans Merci-the enchantress who from Keats backwards and forwards has been the patroness of all true romantics. The unattainable, visionary woman dominated Sansom's novel The Loving Eye (TIME, April 15), and now she crops up again like a bad guinea. The story is a little shocker of how "this man Greville, traveller, Englishman, thirtyish, a sort of student on remittance, sitting now cooling off in his little Spanish police-cell, tried again to piece together...
When the little girl arrived at the hotel in Paris, the owner's wife said graciously: "Ah bonjour Mademoiselle. Es-tu un enfant terrible?" To which the little girl replied with her impressive grasp of the French idiom: "No merci Mme. Dupuis je suis Me ELOISE...