Word: vagrants
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...pass through Hollywood every year, and in Endless Love (1981) and The Outsiders (1982), Cruise had the chance to scope out his competition: Matt Dillon, Rob Lowe, Ralph Macchio, James Spader, Patrick Swayze, Emilio Estevez, C. Thomas Howell. Usually boy toys come and go without attracting much more than vagrant pubescent lust. There is little job security in being this week's pinup on the bedroom wall of American girlhood...
Intruders enter dormitories with ease, immediately behind students. The administration knows this, which is why they urge vigilance and caution. Granted, if a soiled vagrant, thoroughly soused and clenching a dripping dagger, sputtered, "Hold that door, will you?" some might simply prop the door open for an additional second or two without looking. To these disembodied few, vigilance and caution should of course be advised...
...attention -- hmmm, something's burning. The master of this Vermont farmhouse eases on over to the hearth, extracts Yellow Dog's tail from the cinders and gently stubs it out like a spent cigar. The pooch barely opens one glazed eye. This scene, briefer than a minute, is a vagrant moment of unforced drollery in Funny Farm's carnival of sylvan horrors...
...Lucas film will have vagrant charms. Davis is ingratiating. So is Julie Peters playing his wife, as patient as Penelope. Director Ron Howard (Splash, Cocoon) gets the social politics of the dwarfs' village right, but he is not adept at action scenes: some are too busy; others are botched. Kilmer tries hard in a role that might have fit Mel Gibson like an iron glove, and Whalley, teen angel of the serious British mini-series (The Edge of Darkness, The Singing Detective) is wasted as the heroine. Both Kilmer and Whalley, in fact, are curiously irrelevant to the climactic battle...
...like a first, lost love. For him, opera is performed at peak volume because the feelings it surveys are big and deep. Matters of lust and death are too important to be spoken; they must be sung, shouted, thundered, wept -- and shown, in all their delirious force. At its vagrant best, Aria reminds viewers of the original arithmetic of cinema: sight + sound = sensation...