Word: soote
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...charred doors obscenely ajar and its windows darkened by soot, the burned-out hulk of a Boeing 737 was all that remained of EgyptAir Flight 648, once bound from Athens to Cairo with 98 passengers and crewmen aboard. As investigators milled about on the tarmac of the airport at Valletta, Malta's capital, police and rescuers sifted through the fuselage for victims, their possessions and any clue that might help explain what had happened aboard the ill-fated craft. Occasionally a stretcher shrouded in plastic would emerge, a macabre reminder that the jetliner had become a tomb for 57 travelers...
...this mystery magician Sophie's protector or a predator? No suspense there. But while the story adheres to fairy-tale contours, it constantly surprises with the richness of imaginative detail. The film begins in the soot and bustle of an old European city, with a design scheme both grim and dapper: even the evil blobs who chase Howl wear straw hats. The castle, which treads back roads on four Seussian legs, is a spectacular jumble of ship parts, old wooden houses and gigantic barrels. Palaces and shimmering lakes, warplanes and fire sprites all come to life at the breath...
...blond bombshell; like an '80s woman, she is spikily determined to come to them on her own terms. This sexy, witty film has the texture of a '50s B movie: these are small, doomed people viewed unsentimentally as they take their sport in cramped bedrooms or walk along soot-swathed streets with murder in their eyes. Though Richardson has the showstopper part, Holm is the class act here. With his finicky mustache and sad, knowing eyes, he poignantly deadpans Des' coaled passion for Ruth. Des alone knows what her obsession with David will lead to. Ever the decorous Englishman...
...write, his drawings were his only form of communication with the external world. With no access to art supplies of any kind, Castle spent his life drawing on scraps of found paper—ranging from envelopes to flattened matchbooks—using pigment he created by combining oily soot from his wood burning stove with his own saliva. This is a man who needed to make art so badly that literally nothing could stop him; the sheer intensity of Castle’s drive to create is both humbling and awe-inspiring...
...like London is, to use Benjamin Disraeli’s phrase, one of “two nations” is not surprising, but it’s not enough to see it through A Clockwork Orange’s blood-colored lens, or even in Dickens’ soot-tinged ink. Once, his dirty, patchwork metropolis of chimney sweeps and scofflaws was no more impressive to me than the broad, imperial tones of a history textbook or a Lord Soandso (chancellor, historian, poet, collector of exotic birds) majestically painting the background of the Imperial City, with its thatch roofs...