Word: mouthes
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...boardroom backstabbing, no political malfeasance can wipe that salesman's grin off his face. It is the smile of a cockeyed optimist whose tragic flaw is that he refuses to believe anything can go wrong. And it is attached to a mind racing with ideas and a mouth that motors even faster. Bridges' Preston Tucker is a man in perpetual motion -- gesticulating, punching walls and embracing people, scampering down his assembly line in pursuit of the perfect car. Like many a Capra hero, he is sworn to fight the big boys who would crush his dream. And if they...
...when that girl got bitten on Fright Night. She started turning ugly, and then it was like she was sweating. But the only movie that scared me was The Exorcist. That scared me. Her head turned all the way around, and something green just jumped out of her mouth and killed the priest. You see the devil was inside of her. Some people say it was like a true story that really happened...
...gaze is usually impenetrable and impatient, but on this night his brown eyes glistened with moisture. His smile is generally a measured half-moon, but on this night his mouth widened into a toothy grin. From the moment he ascended the multi-tiered podium in Atlanta, before he uttered a single syllable, the Democratic nominee seemed a man transformed. Punching the air in triumph, blowing kisses to his wife: these were not the metronomic gestures of a soulless technocrat. Could that be Michael Dukakis, the unflappable exponent of cool reason, choking on his words? Yes, there was a catch...
Think of Otto (Kevin Kline) as Daffy Duck, a fellow whose foot -- when it's not in his mouth -- is always obsessively pressed to the emotional floorboard. Think of Ken (Michael Palin) as Elmer Fudd, a stammerer whose mild manner hides a ferocious temper. Think of Wanda (Jamie Lee Curtis) as -- big leap here -- Bugs Bunny, all wisecracks and cool deceit. And think of A Fish Called Wanda as the next best thing to a Looney Tunes-Merrie Melodies summerfest...
...awoke early -- too early, barely able to breathe. There was fur in my mouth and an ominous purring sound in my ears. It was Sakhmet, the family cat, sitting on my face. Might today be the Twelfth of Tybi, which commemorates the massacre perpetrated by the Feline Goddess of ancient Egypt? It was too horrible to contemplate. "Get out of here, Sakhmet!" I shouted, sitting bolt upright. My wife Libra opened an eye. Her scales of justice, as usual, were at the ready. "About your behavior at the party last night...