Word: pile
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...Goldie Hawn, 22, a former chorus girl from Tacoma Park, Md., is the resident dumdum who takes all the verbal pratfalls. In the thick of quick exchanges, she will giggle, shake her haystack pile of blonde hair and say in a little meowing voice: "I forgot the question." At first, her fluffs were a case of misreading the cue cards. Now they are part of the act, as when she bites her lip and chirps: "I don't like Viet Cong because in the movie he nearly wrecked the Empire State Building...
...half-century-old pile of brick, stone and flaking plaster, Principal David W. Lee, 43, has assembled a staff of 39 teachers who are there, as he puts it, because "they give a damn." The group includes 24 men, a high percentage for an elementary school. Although the enrollment is predominantly Negro, 33 teachers are white. Thirty are under 25. Many are recent graduates of Columbia, Yale, Chicago, and other blue-chip colleges. Belittling his own plain-cut clothes, Principal Lee, a Chinese American, says: "I'm a bum-but most of my teachers wear Brooks Brothers suits...
...critic is an avid lecher and blurb-confectioner, the other an intellectual exegete who would ponder the "human condition" in a pile of burning rubbish. Just such rubbish is put before both men in a fatuous mystery play. In a way, Hound is a miniaturized travesty of R. and G., since the two critics cannot grasp the play they are watching any better than R. and G. could fathom Hamlet. The critics become unintentionally involved in the action and are both shot to death. Stoppard is a ' word mimic and a born parodist. But parody is parasitic and needs...
...scene is a seaside village on a remote stretch of Canada's Gaspé Peninsula. Almond uses his color camera as a landscape painter might, pausing now to frame a snow-banked brook and barnyard, now a pile of upturned boat hulls rotting in the winter sun. The country store, the local garage with the inevitable Coca-Cola sign and the railroad tracks piercing through the barren hills like a steel spine flash by in a blur of fast cuts. And always there is the distant, forlorn sound of cowbell and gull cry, wind and heaving...
...Rock Pile. The full extent of their fury makes Watts look like a street squabble. The mobs were so huge that they sometimes completely jammed the broadest streets. They tore down telegraph poles and burly Irish women wielding crowbars tore up the tracks of the street railways. At one point, 50 soldiers formed a double line with fixed bayonets and tried to halt a mob marching on Third Avenue. They fired a volley into the crowd before they were overrun and took to their heels. One soldier tried to escape by scrambling up a rock pile near 42nd Street...