Word: wits
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...silhouette, Austin appears to gratify himself in nearly impossible ways. Fat Bastard, the studiously repellent Myers character whose very image is an affront to this hallowed page, expels something into his shorts, then muses on whether it's solid, liquid or gas. The film's title says its wit is in its groin. Laugh or groan at Goldmember--and Myers wants you to do both--it is not for kids...
...escape? Will he get his revenge? It's an old story--The Count of Monte Cristo by way of TV's The Prisoner--but Fry (who played the pompous detective in Gosford Park) has the wit and erudition to make it run like a well-made pocket watch. Be warned: the vengeance promised by the title has an unabashedly nasty flavor that's distinctly British and quite refreshing compared with our more Puritanical American brand...
...silhouette, Austin appears to gratify himself in nearly impossible ways. Fat Bastard, the studiously repellent Myers character whose very image is an affront to this hallowed page, expels something into his shorts, then muses on whether it's solid, liquid or gas. The film's title says its wit is in its groin. Laugh or groan at Goldmember - and Myers wants you to do both - it is not for kids...
...free stage and film performance from the kingdom of nice. But Steiger was no mumbler; he spat his lines with acid precision. He often played tyrants--Napoleon, Al Capone, Mussolini (twice)--but his presence was grander: he suggested the Old Testament God, annoyed at the world's slow wit. Even as The Pawnbroker's death-camp survivor, he went for earned rage, not martyrdom. Steiger won a Best Actor Oscar for In the Heat of the Night, which showed a warming trend. But his legacy is one of fire within ice. In any scene he entered, he lowered the temperature...
...Larry claimed to be descended from the German-Jewish poet Harry Heine, the student of Hegel who converted to Protestantism and changed his name to Christian (!) Johann Heinrich Heine. His most famous poem, "Lorelay," set to music by Friedrich Silcher, has some of the melancholia (if not the elfin wit) that marked many Hart lyrics: "I do not know what haunts me,/ What saddened my mind all day;/ An age-old tale confounds me,/ A spell I cannot allay." And a quatrain Heine wrote for his wife Therese - "You're lovely as a flower,/ So pure and fair...