Word: twitchingly
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...they still send skaters sprawling. When the girls roll onto the Masonite track, the contact becomes more genuine-with shrieking, scratching and hair pulling thrown in. The female heavy is Joan Weston, a $20,000-a-year blonde Bomber who sends opponents flipping over the guard rails with one twitch of her mighty hips. As her bumpy, bruised knuckles attest, she can be equally menacing with an uppercut ("I can't keep a long nail," she says). She takes her lumps too, most often from a gang of Braves led by pert Marge Laszlo, a nine-year Derby veteran...
Pope Brock is very good as an effete young noble, and Vince Canzoneri's Maxime is a perfect picture of a vengeful, slightly insane and decaying aristocrat. Timothy Hall, except for an implausible tendency to twitch uncontrollably, plays Bitos with compassion and sense...
...Humphrey postulates-no feasts in his room, "just cheddar cheese, saltine crackers, diet root beer, Canadian Club and soda, 'wine of the country,' usually ten bottles of beer." Most of all, Murphy dreaded the "dragon's tail effect"-that frightening phenomenon in which a mere twitch at the tail's base can be come a paroxysm by the time it reaches the tip. By lingering an hour over schedule in one place, the Humphrey cavalcade can make a shambles of a whole day's tight schedule...
Death in this movie has a definite Grand Guignol quality. People don't just fall down and lie there with a stain on the uniform and maybe a twitch or two. They writhe and roll, gurgling and spouting the red stuff in enough quantities to make even a paratrooper throw up-which John does with emetic realism. There is also a double helping of portentous stream of consciousness on the sound track, plus some heavy-handed message mongering that is both otiose and silly. "Just you and me," observes one of the characters, lying near death in an inferno...
False-Teeth Collage. The average visitor, ushered through the five galleries annexed to the Winnetka chateau belonging to Retailing Executive Robert Mayer, 57, wishes he had brought along his sunglasses: more than 450 works of op, pop, ob, blob, kinetic and frenetic art jump, creep, twitch, jiggle or blaze from every conceivable wall and cranny. Some of Mayer's purchases are spectacularly fine, including Robert Rauschenberg's Buffalo II, a recent star at the Sao Paulo Bienal. Many others are simply spectacular. For, as Mayer is the first to admit, he has something of a glass...