Word: priggish
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...stand-outs in the rest of the cast include Jeremy Bollinger, who ably captures the self-officiating nature of Fowler, a priggish "Twenty Two" club member. David McConaughy, as Delahay, also does a convincing job with his role of a self-centered snob. His snide comments and vicious glances could make even William F. Buckley cower in his chair. Mark Kessler inspires a chuckle for his performance as the lisping literary critic. The problem with most of the other actors is that they don't play up the viciousness of their roles--they fade into the background because they...
Hanks has devised a snooty accent (he sounds as if he were born with a silver potato in his mouth) and a way of likably parodying almost Ayn Randian selfishness. Candy again shows that he is a resourceful character comedian. Wilson neatly captures the priggish whine of middle-class idealism and its potential for redemption through experience and common sense. Each reflects the controlling intelligence of the film's writers and director, who want to celebrate the antic resourcefulness of American individualism while satirizing the gaseous platitudes that are too often used to motivate and justify it and sometimes corrupt...
...only question is whether he will discover that she has had a recent flirtation too. Lonsdale's polite palaver provides an opportunity for the display of style by Lynn Redgrave and Jeremy Brett as the urbanely warring couple, George Rose and Brenda Forbes as a tippling reverend and his priggish wife and, above all, Colbert, with her breezy manner and chorus-girl legs, and Harrison, with his merry twinkle and courtly roguery. Escapist the experience undeniably is, but Aren't We All? could not bear the weight of added incident, let alone redeeming social importance. Either would amount to gilding...
...after a few day's stay, both women are exasperated with the dull, sheltered existence of the British colony. Then neighbors seem uniformly stuffy and priggish, smug and superior toward "the darker peoples" and lacking any interest in India's exotic culture. The British Club offers polo in the afternoon and musical comedies in the evening. Tea and cucumber sandwiches are served while a sweating Indian band in garish Western uniforms plays "God Save the King...
More to the point. I find it curious that the editors of The Crimson many of whom are aspirants to the writing trade, would throw in with the priggish wing of the Left that leans all too blithely toward censorship. There is more virulent misogyny to be found in the books of Charles Bokowski or even Norman Mailer than in anything that ever circulated at the Pi Eta, yet I wouldn't want to see them removed from the stacks of Widener simply because a cult of cocksure feminists was camped on the front steps...