Word: triumphant
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...novel, The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter was half poetry, and like most poetry, it suffers in translation. Yet, though much of the sentiment drips into sentimentality, Arkin is triumphant as an Everyman isolated from the humanity he can reach but not touch. With galvanic, Chaplinesque gestures, he makes his inarticulate mouth seem to shout his agonies; when he "talks" to himself, he speaks sign language with a weary, resigned accent that makes his fingers seem to sigh...
...Stewart lifts the mike, stand and all, the tripod legs slant in the air and his body is bent double over it, singing he glances happily over the stage. Jeff Beck in a black ruffled shirt knees slightly bent, perfectly balanced though, finishes his rifls with a triumphant index finger high over his head. He 'plays' a long beep and then a long deep wavering note. Stewart sings slow blues style, "My baby, she knows how to spread her wings." Subterrenean thoughts of rolling thighs float around. Jeff Beck and Ron Wood exchange looks and laugh. Mick Waller keeps slashing...
...LeRoi Jones, the militant Negro playwright, says: "Soul music is music coming out of the black spirit." For decades, it only reverberated around the edges of white pop music, injecting its native accent here and there; now it has penetrated to the core, and its tone and beat are triumphant...
Based on the play by John Osborne, Inadmissible Evidence has made a triumphant transition to the screen, with all of its claustrophobic intensity, venom and quinine-bitter laughter intact. In his scenario for the film, Osborne has speeded the tempo by slimming the monologues; Director Anthony Page has gained added power by close-ups that pore over a human face desolate in its frustrations. As on the London and New York stage, the demanding role of Maitland is enacted by Nicol Williamson, a player of explosive passion. Williamson does not merely perform; he lays his life on the line...
...Portis has succeeded in creating in Mattie Ross a triumphant character, with true grit and sand, an original piece of Americana-sort of a Portrait of Whistler's Mother as a Young Girl in Indian Territory. And he has most vividly produced a true mock western: one in which blood flows with the same impact as real tomato soup suddenly gushing out of an Andy Warhol...