Word: ragamuffins
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Expanded from a short story by Alan Sillitoe, Loneliness recites the lugubrious case history of a mill-town ragamuffin (Tom Courtenay) who winds up as a Borstal boy. As he reaches reform school, the hero is met by "the Guv'nor" (Michael Redgrave). "You're here to work hard and play hard," his nibs announces with an intolerably self-righteous smirk. "We're here to try and make something...
...early chapters. Dragging along a passel of pals, the dusky boxer hustled them aboard a rush-hour "A" train to a subway station beneath Brooklyn's High Street station. Floyd scooted up a ladder to the dark cranny where 17 years ago. as a shy and unhappy ragamuffin, he spent his hours as a chronic hooky player from school. "Just like I remember it," said Floyd. "Crazy, man," said a trainer. Someone else had found Floyd's hideaway. Rummaging around, he found a pilfered wallet left behind by a pickpocket. Clambering down from the unlit alcove, the champ...
...whose job it is to paint big Xs on the windows of condemned buildings-feels himself the personification of doom, gets so worked up over X-ing out so many Fifth Avenue mansions and pleasant brownstones that he has a nervous breakdown. The most helpless, indomitable. charming ragamuffin of the lot is Leroy, a young Negro boy who plays tunes on glass bowls, sells Bibles, and talks...
Pepe (G.S.-Posa Films; Columbia). Cantinflas, the 49-year-old son of a Mexican mail carrier, who in Charlie Chaplin's opinion has become "the world's greatest comedian," is a shy little ragamuffin with wide-apart innocent eyes like a newborn burro's, a mouth like a long, amusing sentence, and a silly little mustache that sets it off in tiny, hairy quotation marks. From the Rio Grande to Tierra del Fuego he is almost as popular as orange soda, and in Mexico he is the greatest national hero since Pancho Villa. His movies make millions...
...plainly just keeps The Unsinkable Molly Brown afloat is an unquenchable Tammy Grimes. Starting off, in potato-sack finery, half tomboy and half troll, she roars and soars ahead with her magically rusty vocal cords, her magically uncombed look, her meltable rock-candy hardness, now executing a slow, sneakered, ragamuffin saraband, now after a Denver fiasco ripping into an exuberant barefoot dance, now smashing a chair over a stranger's head, now reacting in Paris to her first taste of snails: "With that sauce, you could eat erasers." Thanks to her, Molly is dripping but undrowned...