Word: satirists
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Author and social satirist Dick Gregory has agreed to be this year's 1975 Class Day speaker on Wednesday afternoon. The senior class almost had to settle for John Kenneth Galbraith, retiring Warburg Professor of Economics, because as late as last Thursday, the Class Day Committee had not landed a speaker to replaces Muhammad...
...nature of love and heroism--albeit swaddled in dramatic bathos--and all he heard were guffaws from the gallery. Surely this was a farce, with its soldier hero who carries chocolates instead of cartridges, its recently-civilized Bulgarians who wash their hands "nearly every day"--something worthy of the satirist W. S. Gilbert. In oppressive Folkestone Shaw is trembling with literary indignation. Gilbertian! Hhmmph...
None of this means that the film is less cheeky (or less visually sumptuous) than its predecessor. It is merely a modest claim that its director is something more than a nimble comic stylist. He has the good satirist's indispensable quality, moral indignation, and the wit to show it only in bright, bitter, almost subliminal flashes. Perforce less of a surprise than The Three Musketeers, and perhaps a little sketchier in plotting and characterization. The Four Musketeers disappoints only because we know that there is not enough film left in the can to bring D'Artagnan...
...justice are two different things. Despite his cool eye, Snow cannot really be hard on those who are, after all, his fellow clubmen. An overachiever-physicist and parliamentary secretary as well as prolific novelist-Lord Snow cracked the Establishment at about the time the Establishment cracked. More softy than satirist, the clerk's son makes a case for the not-so-happy few even as he chronicles their ineptitude, their folly in a world they never made. These are men, Snow seems to say, curiously out of touch, not only with their times but with their wives and their...
...Toby, but the scent they are following is not the foul musk of creosote, that criminal excrescence from The Sign of the Four, but the rather innocuous odor of a man who is steeped to the ankles in vanilla extract. This may be a fine touch for the Sherlockian satirist--and there have been plenty of them--but it hardly befits the genius of Watson. Because of preposterous insertions, like this pun: "You've a real gift for telling a tale, Watson, and a flair for titles, too, I'll be bound," or the following canard: "On that previous occasion...