Word: wanderlied
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Hollywood has hung out a sign: VACANCY. The old local custom of film making has all but disappeared, and a swarm of travelers in MarcoPolaroid sunglasses have gone off to wander the earth seeking low overhead and finding high adventure. Both U.S. and European companies are working on location everywhere from the Middle East to the Greater Antilles. If the final results may often seem dull as Hoboken on the screen, there is plenty of color in the making of the films. Current examples...
...auto industry's hand of welcome to foreign tourists is symbolic of the changing attitude of the U.S. toward travelers from abroad. The 450,000 foreigners visiting the U.S. this year are still only a trickle compared with the flood of 2,000,000 Americans who will wander over foreign countries, but tourism from abroad shows every sign of increasing. Foreigners still bitterly complain of the U.S.'s visa restrictions (no countries in Western Europe have them) and the embarrassing questions asked them by customs officials. "One of them asked me my sexual proclivities." says one French student...
...look at The Explorers, one of the book's more successful stories, shows that he is right. Three young hoods with time to kill wander to the edge of the Central Park boat pond and try mockingly to talk with a girl there. When she ignores them, they torment a small Negro boy until she protests. Then, abruptly, they drop the game; it is time for an ominous appointment. Curtain. Weidman delivers his grim moment expertly, but the reader's admiration is mixed. There is something safe and synthetic about the story. One feels that if Hemingway...
Indeed, I have rarely seen a show staged with less skill. When, which isn't often, they move at all, actors wander aimlessly and helplessly in front of Todd Lee's immense set, apparently to obscure each other at critical moments. Everyone except the chorus carefully skirts center stage, and the blocking progresses in a series of rigid, oddly one-sided tableaux which ensure that each scene not hopelessly confused is tediously, outrageously static. The Chorus has a good deal of pacing to do, which it does largely out of step not only with itself but with its words...
...most agreeable and freest entertainments in Manhattan is, or was, to wander down to Washington Square in Greenwich Village on a warm Sunday afternoon and listen to the folk singers. There, on a good Sunday, ten or a dozen guitarists and banjo pickers will be roosting around the edge of a big, ugly fountain playing loudly or softly according to confidence and competition. The songs are love ballads and louder lieder, seditious of maidenly morals and bankerly riches (not because the minstrels hate capitalists or, in some cases, like maidens, but merely because good ballads in praise of chastity...