Word: voyeurs
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...from which all my other characters depart." As Kosinski sees him, Chance is a victim, innocent and nonverbal, of a corporate state that, through the instrument of television, "has rendered him unaware, passive, with no notion of himself, his life, or of others." He is, in short, the ultimate voyeur, the sum not of his actions but of his reactions to a world of which he has been permitted only a partial and distorted view. Success comes to him because he has no choice but to reflect back at everyone he meets whatever qualities they have projected...
...field since then, reading exhaustively and traveling to important auctions around the world. Says he: "To be a knowledgeable collector of 19th century painting you have to be a mythologist as well as a historian. Being a collector turns you into an aesthete, a financier, a voyager, a voyeur and a scholar...
DEWITT: Well I don't do it, but I like to watch it. I'm a voyeur. Hitchcock, DePalma, Scorcese's Taxi Driver. They keep me out of trouble. It's a crazy world, y'know Chaim? A crazy world. What else is this week? The Third Man. A thrilling Carol Reed movie, with those magnificent camera angles out of German expressionism and Orson Welles's Harry Lime, a slippery, outrageous performance by one of our greatest filmmakers. Touch of Evil is also in town. Best first and last scene in film history. Am I boring...
...Brooke Shields, as a child growing up in a New Orleans whorehouse around 1917. Director Louis Malle's camerawork is beautiful, as it has been in many of his earlier films, but the story and acting in this fiasco are purely insipid. Particularly bad is Keith Carradine as the voyeur-dissipant who takes little Brooke away from all the evil and loses her later. Carradine's particular brand of stuporous non-acting was good once, in Nashville, when everyone thought he was acting, but now we all know he's just sitting there. A curious, but unaffecting, film...
...explains, "that the clue to the secret of life, the creative process, lay in personal letters intended for somebody else." Finally, in middle age, she turned her disreputable habit to professional use. In 1947 the sneak reader openly set out to gather the letters of an equally passionate voyeur, Marcel Proust. The story of her search is a book of rich and irresistible charm that might stand as Proust's own epilogue...