Word: sylvan
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...days before he died, Mulcahy rented a spartan one-room cabin at the Mountain View Motel Court in the sylvan Shenandoah Valley. Last Monday he drunkenly fired a shotgun at his cabin door, and the motel owner suggested he leave. Mulcahy lugged five suitcases, three of them packed with his files on Wilson and Terpil, out to his pickup truck. The motel owner locked the door and left; Mulcahy apparently stayed. Early the next morning, after a chill night of 40° temperatures, his body was found slumped against his cabin. His pants were around his ankles. Inside the cabin...
Jane Fonda has made more than her share of controversial scenes, in the movies and in the headlines, but none has quite matched a certain sylvan sequence in On Golden Pond. She stands on the edge of a dock in Squam Lake, N.H., her body firm and svelte, her skin as burnished as an Indian totem, her bikini two bright tattoos. A shiver or two later, she has backflipped off the dock and sliced into the cold water. As sentimental drama, the moment is effective; as cinema, it is unremarkable; as a display of new-fashioned star quality...
...They sing the original Italian libretto, for instance, and tend to roll about the floor in odd formation--but their capacity to charm and delight is endless. All five are top-flight performers: well-suited vocally for Handel's soft, delicate arias, and passionate and convincing as actors. Sanford Sylvan reveres every syllable he sings as Orlando, and his gentle descent into madness (represented as the planet Mars in this production) is mesmerizing. Janet Brown's rendition of the queen/deb Angelica's melancholy reflection on false hopes is another high-point: sweetly sung but bitterly felt. (The ART has double...
...there, mother and child, under a gray bench whose trunk was engraved with dozens of hearts and initials. Stretched on the ground was another fawn, and I realized that the doe had just finished twinning. The second fawn was still wet, still unrisen. Here was a scene of rare sylvan splendor, in one of my five favorite boroughs, and I couldn't have asked for more...
...splendid premise, and a dramatic dilemma. Except for a few oafishly drawn media sharpies, everyone in Romero's Paisley pageant is so nice that no true conflict arises. The movie begins in a splash of delirious lyricism-King William (Ed Harris), naked, birching himself clean in a sylvan lake before mounting his trusty motorsteed-then bogs down in 145 minutes of psychological verismo. The writer-director wants to present rounded, sympathetic characters but never allows them to develop beyond the caricatures in Reel 1. Romero, whose early films displayed the carnographic brio of the E.C. horror comic books...