Word: shakespearean
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With that Shakespearean shrug and a gracious pledge of loyalty to the new regime, Nigeria's "gentle soldier," Major General Yakubu Gowon, philosophically acquiesced to a bloodless palace coup that last week ousted him as his country's head of state. Gowon, who himself came to power following a coup in 1966, was the fifth leader of Black Africa to be deposed by a military revolt in the past 16 months.* He was also the first head of state on the continent to be deprived of office while attending a summit meeting of the Organization of African Unity...
Hackman's performance is fine, though not so Shakespearean as some have claimed. The withdrawal symptom scene (the villians capture him and turn him into an addict) did not turn out to be a spotlight for fancy-pants acting--they don't go on for too long, and at least he talks: Diana Ross in Lady Sings the Blues just sat and shivered miserably--one's reaction was "why am I watching this?" But Hackman moves through this film without straining--he's done better work before, and he seems to enjoy Doyle's character. His enunciation of various...
...past decade. He bears not the remotest resemblance to a prince. He is like a little boy throwing a nightlong temper tantrum. His twitchy gestures suggest those of a puppet on the strings of a drunken puppeteer. His voice is woefully devoid of resonance. He delivers the Shakespearean line like a squawk box in dire need of a lozenge. Add to this little humor and less thought, and Hamlet the Dane becomes Hamlet the Cipher...
BECKETT-LIKE non-sequiturs garbed in Shakespearean soliloquies this play may be--what more winning combination--yet however lavish the praise it has garnered, a main part of this production's problems lie within the play itself. A full-scale production of it is simply too long. And even the much-touted tensile strength of its brilliant wordplay and verbosity cannot sustain such ceaseless action. Compounded with this intrinsic difficulty is director Jeff Melvoin's decision to present the play at a grinding, almost gesture-tableau pace. Muffled by the heavy directorial hand, ordered to understatement, most of the actors...
...ever." The 19th century critic Eugène Fromentin's remark is still true of most reactions to Sir Peter Paul Rubens, the unrivaled master of 17th century Baroque painting. The austerities of modern art have taught us to feel queasy in the presence of his immense worldliness, Shakespearean erudition and, above all, his imagery: those nudes, pink bombé-fronted wardrobes of flesh; those heroes and captains and kings, displaying their vigor and assurance like baroque cock-birds of paradise; the fluster of rich fabrics and cloud, the lions and leopards and marble...