Word: songed
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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Jennifer Jones (24-year-old, Tulsa-born Mrs. Phylis Isley Walker) was canonized by the cinema for her first starring performance-as the sainted peasant girl in The Song of Bernadette. As she took her Oscar from last year's winner, Greer Garson, the brown-haired, brown-eyed one-time Western player bit her lip, smiled and said: "I am thrilled and I am grateful." For his anti-Nazi stand in Watch on the Rhine, grave-toned Paul Lukas led the men. Other statuettes: 1) best film of 1943, Casablanca; 2) best director, Casablanca's Michael Curtiz...
Barring a few lapses of taste, Up In Arms is fun to watch, good to look at. Dinah Shore puts a lot of warmth into her characterization, a lot of heat into the songs Now I Know, Tess' Torch Song. But the heart, liver & lights of this cinemusical is Danny Kaye (of Broadway's Lady in the Dark and Let's Face It), making his screen debut. Kaye's mimicry, patter and general daftness are as deft as a surgeon's incision...
Last week Grandfather Underwood's son recalled his Korean childhood. Queen Min used to dandle him on her royal knee. When the palace burned down the royal family moved next door to the Underwoods. When King Ik Song feared assassination, he sent for Grandfather Underwood and two other missionaries. They sat up all night guarding His Majesty with loaded revolvers...
...gente do morro (hill folk), who inhabit the Negro slums on Rio's numerous hills and make virtually a year's living in Rio's four carnival days, clambered and skidded down from their hilltops singing a brand-new crop of carnival songs and dances. Lacking jalopies to parade in, they hung three-deep to the sides of streetcars, beating out wild rhythms on their tambourines and shouting the new tunes that would soon pulsate in all the samba palaces of Brazil. Usually the streetcar motormen got the idea and joined in, clanging out the rhythm with...
With money or without money E-e-e-e-e, I get along.) Like nearly all Rio de Janeiro's carnival songs, Eu Brinco was conceived by one of the thousands of amateur song writers who drive Rio's taxis, run its elevators, sweep its streets and constitute a sizable portion of its population. Pedro Caetano happens to be a shoe-store clerk. Swarthy Pedro, with slant eyes and a cavernous mouth, cannot read music. He claims that he cannot even play the Brazilian song writer's traditional instrument: an empty matchbox with which the rhythms...