Word: wigged
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...preparing himself, Ustinov boned up on the period and North. In preparing viewers to accept a unique approach to a potentially tedious subject, the producers show Ustinov getting his beard shaved and putting on a powdered wig and 18th century rig over his own prime ministerial paunch. Sevareid also read up on the subject for a month, but wore his usual mid-20th century suit for the filming, which took place in Wroxton Abbey, North's ancestral home, near Stratford-on-Avon...
...watched them so often, recalls Producer Frank McCarthy, "that they were completely worn out when he finally returned them." Scott also read 13 Patton biographies several times each, had his dentist mold him a set of caps to duplicate Patton's teeth, shaved his head and wore a wig of realistic white fuzz. He even insisted on having moles on his face identical to Patton's and filled in part of his nose to make it more like the general's. When she saw the film, Patton's daughter was astonished. "Once it gets rolling, a character is never...
...allows generals to call war "pacification," union leaders to describe strikes or slowdowns as "job actions," and politicians to applaud even moderately progressive programs as "revolutions." Semantic aphasia is also the near-pathological blitheness that permits three different advertisers in the same women's magazine to call a wig and two dress lines "liberated...
...Myrna wasn't afraid of anything. The way it turned out, my father did not seem at all put out by Myrna's peace button, her Black Panther button, her S.D.S. button, her "Kill the Pigs" button, her bib overalls or her carefully teased blonde Afro wig. He didn't even wince when she accidentally let loose a - and a - over the Chianti, and a Holy -! and a - during the spaghetti. In fact, I could only see the faintest spark behind his Coca-Cola green glasses when she patted his shiny bald dome. I knew, though, that...
...route to Miami, I was already bothered by the noisy insufficiencies of my own world. At the airport my sleepy irritation was jarred by a platinum wig, perched on a mannequin head, that watched dumbly while its brunette alter-ego harangued a porter. I drove through Miami Beach to indulge myself in a deluge of costumes and Cadillacs. Later, in Palm Beach, Harold's grocery truck (of Southampton, L.I., and Palm Beach) sped by advertising pheasant and fresh caviar. At Hamburger Haven I was handed hamburgers by a waiter in a cashmere sweater and Gucci shoes (no socks). In front...