Word: wastrel
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Storm of Curses. That weekend, when Philippe went home to Londinières visit his parents, he was surprised to encounter his wastrel brother Gilbert in a cafe. Gilbert was already drunk. "I have to put up with you in Dieppe, but I'm not going to stand having you here," shouted Philippe. They started quarreling again. Philippe ordered Gilbert to get out of Londinieres and go back to Dieppe...
...moments, when a train whistle moans rudely from behind a curve of track in southern flatland and moves into view, a shabby Bronson leaning from the boxcar wearing a cap scrunched down...these few moments of Bronson, and the rustle in his expression when the train rolls by two wastrel children, the change in his eyes not greeting, or even acknowledgement, but only a quick passing of body heat...are some of the most beautiful moments of footage of an actor I've ever seen...
...composer knew its inhabitants with detachment and compassion. He creates no heroes, but a world of people working, flirting, taking naps, worrying about saving face or avoiding the draft. The plot, however, concerns deadly primal emotions: love, jealousy and ambition. Jenufa is pregnant by števa, a wastrel who chases every girl in town. Jenufa still hopes to catch him, but her world is invisibly rimmed by two figures far more powerful than she and her faithless swain. One is a poor man named Laca, who loves her with a ferocity that drives him to ruin her beauty-all that...
That ends the comedy but not the picture. Henry studies manuals of toxicology, but never gets around to expunging his bride. Instead, the wastrel learns to endure her and discover the joys of financial management. That leaves Henry with something of a vocation, but it does not leave the audience with much of a picture. Once the laughs subside, the project, like Henry's old wallet, is bare. A New Leaf may be the first film in which Matthau is miscast. He retains his unique webfooted shuffle, and still sends home his jokes special delivery. But his astringent lines...
...bounces around onstage as a middle-aged New Yorker containing a wastrel screaming to be let out. Mostly he resembles an overweight wrestling coach, or the boy next door who ate too much of too many Sunday dinners. "I come from an old-fashioned Italian family, where we used to sit down for Sunday dinner at 2 and get up at 7." Which explains the 250 lbs. spread over his 5-ft. 10-in. frame. What it does not explain is how a nice, fat Italian boy from The Bronx became an overnight success on Broadway after 22 years...