Word: smiled
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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Taking a picture of his guests on their arrival at the dock, he commands, "Smile, or whatever you people do for a living." It is ironic that Welch, the worst of the performers, should give the most incisive critique of the film. Arriving at the airport, she and her husband are beseiged by prying newspapermen. Her annoyed husband (Ian McShane) deftly shifts the bag he is carrying and belts an offending photographer in the jaw, knocking him down. Sensitive Raquel is affected. "Why can't we just go on a vacation like normal people?" Indeed...
...prattling about the goodness of man. He gets done in a couple of more times anyway and ends up auditioning for movies, totally by accident, of course, like everything else he does. In the last part he sits there grinning like an idiot 'cause the director tells him to smile. What's there to smile about? That's the 20 cent question of this $20 billion movie. And just how the whole lousy picture got started; it was the same idiot grin that knocked the vampy P.R. lady in the coffee company on her back and this boring little salesman...
...Nora continues to chirrup about like a gay lark, you feel anxiety whooshing through her chatter. The smile on her china doll face is somehow out of joint. You begin to see that she is clinging desperately to her innocence, (like an invalid making the best of a sorry confinement...
...suggested by School for Husbands), in which she is forced by Pinchwife to write an odious letter to Horner from dictation and then manages to substitute another of opposite sentiment. Her pauses, her inflections, and her iterations of the simple expletive "so" are indescribably funny. One notices her sly smile on penning "For Mister Horner," one senses her giddy excitement on being able to write her own letter, one enjoys her unconscious tickling of her nose with the quill, one shares her gleeful success at hiding the dictated letter under Pinchwife's very wig. Miss Shelley gives an exhibition...
Mick will not. "What's there to smile about?" he demands. Anderson smacks him on the head with a script, an ironic rendering of one of those moments of illumination in Zen. The corners of Mick's mouth twitch upward into the beginnings of a grin: he understands what there is to smile about...