Word: shaves
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...kindred masterpieces of the fifties. Throughout Renoir's films all characters' actions are social in nature; scarcely a man performs an action by himself, or for himself; every act is a species of public performance. Even when Michel Simon awakens in La Chienne (1931) and goes to shave, a window behind him reveals the courtyard of his apartment building, and beyond that another window in which a woman does her laundry. Nobody in Renoir's movies is alone; everyone performs his personal actions for society. Those individuals who, like Toni and Andre Jurieu, find this omnipresence of society an intolerable...
...about a Christmas poem today?" He suggests all sorts of ideas: "Like what would the ocean do if it really cared about Christmas? Or the eagles, sparrows and robins-what would they do? The apes in in Africa, would they swing from the trees? Or Abraham Lincoln, would he shave his beard? The rain? The sun? And the people in Puerto Rico, or China...
...good thing. The Marine Corps is determined to be as tough and rigid as ever, perhaps more so in order to claim greater eliteness. "We will continue to take the hard line," says one Marine general. "We think we can get 200,000 volunteers, cut their hair and shave their faces. It will be a challenge, but maybe it's the only one left...
...potholder producer, and every Christmas Eve, I would leave two of the potholders on the mantel for Santa. It was understood that he would take them black to Mrs. Claus, who would be expected to use them to cook. For Santa himself, we left cookies and milk or after-shave lotion. Male chauvinist, to say the least...
...last week (Harper & Row; 252 pages; $14.95), has managed to recapture the war in all its grisly tedium. Looking deceptively like a cocktail-table art book, Duncan's gloom-shrouded pictures of American fighting men are packed more with fatigue than fight. There are no heroic actions; men shave, take muddy baths, clean up after shellbursts, write letters, stare vacantly at absolutely nothing while waiting for the next pointless action. The photographs have the stink of death, the feel of futility and, on any cocktail table, far surpass alcohol as a depressant...