Word: slobs
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...Stella (Susannah York) across a crowded room. A friend (Margaret Leighton, in a see-through dress you'd rather not) makes the introductions, and Robert makes the pass. Stella, interested but uncertain, takes a rain check. Zee watches the whole thing blooming but dismisses Stella as "a soulful slob." Imagine her surprise when Robert not only takes Stella as his mistress but also starts to take Stella seriously...
...career, she gave herself desperately to the role. "I knew I had the emotion. That's all I am, emotion. But I couldn't do Bobbie by myself. Mike had to mold me. And he did. I lived Bobbie day and night. I turned into the slob Bobbie is. Between takes I just sat in my dressing room and stared at the wall. When I got back to the hotel at night, I put on my bathrobe and walked back and forth in the bathroom. I felt depressed, all the time depressed. So vulnerable, so betrayed. Mike...
...joblessness, of radical violence, of counterviolence from the government. There is a chastened air. A decade of almost amphetamine economic growth culminates in a recession that, although relatively mild in historical terms, has thrown the fear of wolves into the most resolutely buoyant consumer. Simultaneously, even the most heedless slob in a throwaway society begins to understand that his cans and bottles and poisoned gases are piling up in a fatal glut...
...Scarlet Pimpernel of pollution, had struck again. His note explained all. A long doggerel rewrite of Coleridge's Kubla Khan, it ended with the lines: "We have begged you for mercy, and our hearts are sad, our brother./So I leave you with this greeting, Sir, from one slob to another! [signed] Fox." A grim fox's visage was drawn...
...Philosophy. There is a little something here to set everyone's gorge agurgling. There is Mae West, grinding her ancient hips in a grotesque parody of bygone eroticism; her entire accomplishment consists of dreary one-liners about bed and phalli. There is John Huston, demeaning himself as the slob-gutted, sagebrush sybarite. There is Rex Reed, whose debut as an actor is on a par with the best line the scriptwriter could give him to scream: "Where are my tits?" There is Raquel herself, who wanders about in virtual unemployment, spouting pendulous philosophy á la Vidal...