Word: soap
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...nothing in Cuba. You cannot express what you feel. The only ones who have a good social life are the Communist leaders. They have cars, nice houses. In the last couple of years there has been a lot of hunger, little clothing. Sometimes we don't get soap for three months...
Coatless, tieless and triumphantly clutching his Best Actor Oscar, Dustin Hoffman could not resist a post-award press conference zinger at TV gossip Rona Barrett, who had dismissed Best Movie Kramer vs. Kramer as so much soap suds. Said he, spotting Barrett in the press crush: "Well, the soap opera won." Kramer swept five major prizes in the 52nd Academy Awards show. "I'm trying to hear the question over my heartbeat," cooed Meryl Streep, Best Supporting Actress as Ms. Kramer. Complimented on her Trigère gown, Streep, who is Mrs. Don Gummer in real life, blushingly swept...
...only from writing but even from talking or living without wondering whether it's all been seen on some stage before. His friends have to be Holvard Solness and Miss Julies and when they can't, when he sees them as "cardboard characters" and "cartoons," and their "soap talk" as unsuitable dialogue, he abandons them, forgetting that the stuff of everyday life must be, by definition, commonplace. Terry wants to live as the artist of the new and the hero of the new, and when he can'the hardly wants to live at all. As the curtain falls Terry...
...internality of action in Terry Rex (much is thought, little happens) presents a dramatic dilemma for Leib, what might be called the problem of the inactive character. Talk, even when it is not "soap talk," is still talk, and begins, after a while, to beg for action. But Leib prefaces Terry Rex with the performance of Terry Won't Talk. This play, after all, is the product of Terry's mind, and serves to mirror that mind, highlighting in dumbshow the roiling preoccupations which, although related to Terry's burden of the past, more directly prevent him from writing...
...sparring; "Two Little Hitlers" defined relationships as an unending series of one-upmanships and clashes, a dance of death with each power in turn vowing to return. Here, his sometime partner, presumably aging Playboy centerfold and intercontinental pleasure-kitten Bebe Buell, is merely a "B Movie," "a sob-soap story" devoid of all but carnal interest; this is not two Hitlers, but Hitler and Mussolini. The song climaxes as Elvis taunts her for her shallowness: "You can't feel, you can't feel," his voice echoing in her vacuity, while Bruce Thomas's almost bored bass thrums luridly, watching Elvis...