Word: straightforwardly
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...Ruby walking alone through her wallpaper tracks with the ghosts of a faded age, shaking hands with Kinks, Beatles and Zombies. Outside her window, it is a normal world with birds and traffic, but Ruby lives in a music box, where the music is strung together with sturdy strumming, straightforward rhythm-bones and innocent voices on the cusp of corruption. She can hear little else than the tinkling and moaning of a hollow synthesizer that gets so lonely it would be frightening to anyone else. Her boyfriend calls to her, "Baby!" but she is deaf to his song...
...post-production) don't exactly synch with the scene, but she's a pretty young thing, and it's forgivable. And talk of Lloyd's wooden performance (he had been dubbed "Mannequin Skywalker" by certain crewmembers) isn't really fair. The kid's no natural, but he gives a straightforward, acceptable read, especially considering the artificial dialogue he's given--that second "Yippee" really grates. Perhaps most affecting, though, is Ingmar Bergman regular Pernilla August (what's she doing here?), who plays Anakin's mother, Shmi. The lines she's given are just as pat and clich as the rest...
...young man slain because he was African American, Columbine survivors walking in the rain to the Heritage Christian Center didn't bother to open their umbrellas; if they could feel the rain on their faces, they must be alive. Inside the vast modern sanctuary, the explanations tended to be straightforward: Satan had taken control of Harris and Klebold...
...show is a straightforward trot through art and social history, aimed directly at a general, nonspecialist public--the kind of public the Whitney needs to reach if it is to recover from its long doldrums. Much is riding on the show's success or failure. Because it was underwritten by Intel, a great song and dance is made about the marvels of the websites and of getting people wired into art history. But it's the actual works of art, not their teensy digital clones, that count...
...title suggests an almost puzzling degree of transcendence, particularly for a film so grounded in the nitty-gritty of day-to-day existence and friendship. But we can call this depiction of straightforward humanity transcendent if we consider the implicitly condescending subhumanity of much schlock oh, the heady effluvia of Hollywood's dream factory...