Word: tartly
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Pretty Baby. The come-on was irresistable. Brooke Shields--the 12 year old prepubescent tart of our most secret fantasies. And Louis Malle--the man who might have done for the topic of child prostitution what he did with the incest taboo in "Murmur of the Heart." But the product is confused in its story line and unidentifiable in its ideology, all in all a pretty big let down. Shields conveys all the mischieviousness of childhood, and none of the mystery. Her mother (Susan Sarandon) strands her in their New Orleans brothel without us ever really understanding why. And although...
...ends with the German settlement being liberated by a British detachment-commanded, in another tart touch, by a swarthy Indian captain. Under the terms of the distant armistice, the captain claims the German territory for England. The French and German colonials sit down again over drinks, having learned nothing from the experience but that "the niggers who were German are now English." The geographer finds that his German counterpart is a fellow university man, and they share a well-bred chuckle over their common socialist youth. Race and class reassert themselves. There is no sense of relief: ahead...
...resemblance to John Barrymore), among them B.D. (Big Director), the actor's adopted son, who has none of the old man's natural talent for performing, and two men who do. It is the old women in the story who claim the greatest attention. They are tart and perceptive, with matching dialogue-not surprising from the man who wrote Born Yesterday and Adam's Rib. "You make me most uneasy," one of them remarks accurately at Kanin's snooping. "You seem detectivy, in a nasty way." Defeated by the complications he uncovers, the sleuth forsakes...
Once you allot news space in the Times according to the category of advertising that surrounds it, a distention sets in. In the new sections are a number of useful things, including good theater criticism (Walter Kerr), tart restaurant judgments (Mimi Sheraton) and personal health advice (Jane E. Brody). But assorted critics and writers who also appear Sundays turn up again during the week with nothing special to say, and their words do run on. Enough in the sections demands attention, however, and the poor old conscientious reader has more to get through...
...Advertising Director Gerald Rafshoon are already an item for gossip columnists). In her ascent, she may pass Joan Braden on her way down; Joan's salon regularly attracted the likes of Nelson Rockefeller and Henry Kissinger. The Kennedys? "They were secretly rooting for Ford," says one acute and tart-tongued observer of the capital scene. "With a Republican in the White House, they're the shadow government. Now who are they?" That remains to be seen...