Word: plays
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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Studio One: Less a play than a mood piece, The Bend in the Road nonetheless offered some good acting and a grown-up theme: how an elderly minister and his wife adjust to the prospect of sitting out the rest of their lives. Onetime Glamour Boy Franchot Tone, 51, donned whiskers and did his husky-voiced best to play a spry octogenarian fighting the years. Cathleen Nesbitt was fine as his gentle wife. But Playwright John Vlahos never crystallized in a dramatic moment just why the minister surrendered to a tranquil life and moved off to a home...
...young people behaved after World War II exactly as they did before it, there would really be something wrong with them." The student now simply faces a different kind of world. It demands that he be brighter, more conscientious, more in earnest than his predecessors. If he refuses to play the rebel, it is probably because he feels he must cover too much ground to prepare himself for the future. Perhaps the most significant.paradox in collegiate life is that today's intellectual calm is largely the result of the rising level and increasing intensity of the average campus...
...pleasure than for answers. They still study, though they do not imitate, such erstwhile heroes as Hemingway and Joyce, but the nearest thing they have to a U.S. literary ideal is Faulkner. James Gould Cozzens has made little impression on them. Students read Koestler, but Orwell gets a bigger play. Eliot holds his own, but as much for his criticism as for his poetry. Dylan Thomas is admired, but evokes no hysteria. Students still delve into Freud, but they are just as apt to be worried about the psychology of The Organization Man. The one new American author...
Referee Dalton McArthur made the only move possible. He whistled play to a halt until repairs could be made. By the time the Red Wings got going again, Ranger penalty time was running out. Soon the New Yorkers were at full strength, and they saved their...
...Tenn. as the city dreams through a summer evening filled with the cry of locusts, an evening as calm as the shirtsleeved men watering their lawns in the gentle half-light. A streetcar makes its metallic groan on a curve and disappears trailing sparks like blue fireflies; chanting children play in the circling glow of a lamppost. And when it grows dark, there are more quiet stars in the sky than there will ever be again...