Word: pluming
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...motor-minded moviegoers: a souped-up export model, skaty-eight sillynders and loaded with hi-octane hilarity, that despite occasional wheezes will undoubtedly transport hordes of moviegoers with merriment. At the wheel is Robert Dhéry, a 40-year-old writer-director whose Broadway revue of 1958, La Plume de Ma Tante, is still humming along on the road. If he rolls on at this rate, he will soon be giving the incomparable Jacques Tati (Mr. Hulot's Holiday) a run for the funny money on the art film circuit...
...Kaye Ballard have amusing scenes, particularly one where she is locked in a box through which he plunges swords. But the evening's peak comes with a whirling and jubilant "Grand Impérial Cirque de Paris" dance number, paced by the memorable little man of La Plume de Ma Tante, Pierre Olaf. Fetchingly nimble and stylish as a dancer, mime and clown, Olaf-except for this number-is reduced to a colorless speaking part. Had his face, his feet and his engaging Frenchness been oftener used, Carnival! might have seemed oftener magical...
This season Merrick has two of his old shows on the road (Destry Rides Again and La Plume de Ma Tante), one Broadway holdover (Gypsy), four new hits (A Taste of Honey, Irma La Douce, Do Re Mi and Becket) and one miss (Vintage )60). In all, his 20 shows have cost $4,000,000 to produce, grossed $40 million and repaid $8,000,000 to their angels, including Merrick. Says the producer, who sometimes talks in sporting terms although he is in no sense a sport: "I'm rolling a hot pair of dice...
Running the Gamut. That gloomy forecast deserved attention if only because "Sirius" is the nom de plume of Hubert Beuve-Méry-the editor of France's most respected daily. Beuve-Méry, 58, a grave, greying man with a permanently skeptical arch to his brow, has modeled Le Monde after his own image. Like its editor, Le Monde is more conservative than Catholic, more trenchant than traditional, more republican than radical, more pro-French than anti-American, more non-Communist than antiCommunist. At a time when much of the French press ranges from sycophantic toward...
...Clemente Island. At the press of a button in an island blockhouse, a blast of compressed air pushed the Polaris to the surface. As soon as it splashed out of the water and climbed to just 15 ft., a short charge of its solid fuel ignited in a brilliant plume of fire, sent it roaring straight up for another 1,785 ft.-the planned altitude of the limited test. Then the missile dipped back into the waves half a mile from the launch site...