Word: wits
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...crucial. It matters how a TV star may interpret a lyric differently from a classic Broadway belter or a London lilter. It matters that Brent Spiner (Star Trek’s Data) is a vocally superior John Adams in 1776, but somehow his performance in the revival matches the wit or intensity of William Daniels’ original portrayal. It matters that in the second Broadway revival of Cabaret, Alan Cumming delivers the shocking final line of “If You Could See Her” as a harsh whisper, whereas Joel Grey sings it in the original production...
...somebody almost walked off wid alla my stuff,” in which she exclaims, “stealin’ my shit from me / don’t make it yours / makes it stolen.” Johnson, arrayed in orange, exhibits the sharp wit and comedic sensibility necessary to carry this poem respectably...
...result has been to make Klee look both omnipresent and rather a whimsical bore. He has to be rediscovered every so often to wipe away the resentment the kiddies (now grown up) feel against his charm, wit, flyaway fantasy and all the rest. He is forever going out of style and then being dragged back into it by this or that exhibition. People have to be reminded how important an artist he was in his time, on a level with figures who now seem more formidable (if less loved) presences in the history books, such as the architect Walter Gropius...
Patrick Malahide is magnificently irascible in this role, his frosty wit a thin veil flapping erratically over the vulnerability that now defines him. Barry sympathetically depicts Silvester as a man who knows he has done wrong, but believes that his motives were always noble. "What a pity love is no defense" he reflects, an image cleverly crystallized in a tale of his childhood, when he accidentally transmitted a fatal fever to his baby sister by hugging...
...pond to America, where the band was eventually formed. On the way, Clancy’s misadventures include being wooed by a Guggenheim heiress and keeping house with a psychic Radcliffe dropout in New York City. The book is almost too dense with such vignettes, but the sharp wit and storytelling ability of the “troubador” rescue it from the shallowness that comes with broad coverage. It may not be Angela’s Ashes, but, like the nipple cairn on Slievenamon, The Mountain of the Women stands...