Word: screens
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...Lancaster was so secure in his stature that he could take the dominant but smaller role of J.J. (he's on screen for 36 mins., Curtis almost 90). Similarly, he could have relied on old, endearing mannerisms and played J.J. as the handsome, expansive con man, flashing those famous ivories as he suckered the rubes with his clipped, booming voice. Instead, he wears thick glasses, with what looks like a false nose under them. He turns his athletic energy inward to present a man nearly imploding with pent tension. He intones that Odetsian odes in a whisper, so that everyone...
...mouth luscious and sneering, his eyes mascara'd like a silent-screen sheik, Curtis' Sidney is all bustle and rancor, ever moving, biting his nails, full of unfocused nervous energy. Coming into his office ("What is here? A wake?") to find his uncle and Dallas steaming about the smear item Sidney had planted, Curtis paces, runs fingers through his greasy hair, and then picks up their cue: they want a fight, OK, he'll bounce, circle, jab and jabber like a boxer in a Garden prelim. Out on 52nd Street with J.J., he pleads, "Stop beating me on the head...
...presentation flashed up on a screen, one planner unveiled her ambitious vision. Her proposal would create a new subway line to connect Harvard’s campuses in Cambridge and Allston to other major universities in the area...
...just the right amount of star power. Guy Pearce and Russell Crowe shared the screen as relative unknowns in 1997’s L.A. Confidential, but Crowe’s stock has skyrocketed since then. You want to have one dominant name on your marquee—Crowe and Moulin Rouge’s Nicole Kidman are good starts. Gosford Park, meanwhile, is hurt by an ensemble cast that doesn’t allow for individual recognition, save Helen Mirren’s outstanding final 15 minutes. Interestingly, The Royal Tenenbaums—with names like Gene Hackman, Gwyneth Paltrow...
...Sweet Smell" has to be seen as well as heard, and the place to do that right now is at Manhattan's Film Forum, where a splendid new 35mm print is unspooling through March 28. The big screen and clear print lets you see the pockmarks on J.J.'s skin (the harsh lighting that cinematographer James Wong Howe threw on Lancaster makes him look by turns reptilian and leprous), allows you to read the small print on the cover of a scandal magazine called Sensation (the lead story: "Sex in the City"). But the picture looks good in any size...