Word: rungs
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...byways. In its world of intrigue, menace is measured by the arched eyebrow and the smiling threat. All arrivals and departures are eyeballed by at least one sinister type, who glances at his watch and swiftly darts into a phone booth. But never mind the photostats. Someone should have rung up James Bond for clues on how to play a goshawful thriller for real laughs...
...burst of activity in a company whose U.S. sales had been stagnant for years until Lesch took over, is what might be expected of Mr. Hard Sell. An accountant who rose through the international division, which rings up 53% of the company's sales, Lesch has personally rung doorbells to interview housewives from Bangkok to San Diego, has sold Colgate's Fab to Mexican villagers by rolling up his sleeves to show them that they could even use it to wash clothes in streams. His first act as Colgate president was to drop out of sight for three...
...tireless party worker, she has ad dressed envelopes and rung doorbells just like anyone else. In 1954, while managing a losing congressional cam paign for Anthony B. Akers in New York's 17th Congressional District, she slipped away from a lavish reception for Britain's Queen Mother Elizabeth, changed to street clothes in her Rolls-Royce while riding to Democratic headquarters on election night. In 1956 she headed the Volunteers for Stevenson committee in New York; in 1958 she ran another losing campaign for Akers; in 1960 she was deputy chairman of the Citizens Committee for Kennedy...
...Gaulle's three volumes of war time memoirs, published for the first time in their entirety, are a rung-by-rung account of that ascent. There were no mysteries about it, and De Gaulle makes none. He has been accused of melodrama, egocentricity and arrogance, but his memoirs are written in an eloquently understated, supremely lucid style. As to the familiar gibe about his Joan of Arc complex, le grand Charles has never believed that he or his beloved France had any special claim to divine protection. True, he was superbly, even illogically confident. But above all else...
...dollops of sentiment and a formula ending flaw the otherwise engaging and perceptive script by Nora and Nunnally Johnson. Though droll performances are rung up by Prentiss, Sellers and Angela Lansbury (as Tippy's pampered, promiscuous mother), all are up against a force of nature as potent as Disneyland. Director George Roy Hill is obviously happy to let the camera ogle while his half-pint scene stealers do their stuff. And why not? It's grand larceny...