Word: witting
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LAUREL AND HARDY'S LAUGHING 20'S. Wit less innocence runs amuck in excerpts from the silent classics of Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy, assembled with hilarious results by Cinema Anthologist Robert Youngson...
Though From Russia with Love remains the liveliest Bond opera to date, Thunderball is by all odds the most spectacular. Its script hasn't a morsel of genuine wit, but Bond fans, who are preconditioned to roll in the aisles when their hero merely asks a waiter to bring some beluga caviar and Dom Pérignon '55, will probably never notice. They are switched on by a legend that plays straight to the senses, and its colors are primary. Director Terence Young dunks his camera into a swimming pool full of sharks for the film...
...Duck began its bold sniping in 1915, during some of the bleakest days of World War I, when its dry wit turned out to be just what was needed to combat wartime hysteria. At the time, the French press was frantically reporting every defeat as a glorious victory. The Duck did not set out to correct these inaccuracies. Instead, it claimed the biggest victories of all, until it began to make all war reporting look ridiculous. On one occasion, when the press was clucking in astonishment over a German submarine that had traveled as far as the U.S. coast...
...Country Wife, by William Wycherley. Charles II's England shared the obsession of its king-it was sex-mad. From that consuming passion sprang the witty, monomaniacally bawdy drama known as Restoration comedy. If Congreve was the age's greatest theatrical wit, Wycherley (1640-1715) may well have been its most vigorous social chronicler. He was a rake who later reformed, with all the zealotry that implies. In him, the pagan warred with the Puritan, the scandalizer with the sermonizer, and perhaps never more fiercely than in his most durable play, The Country Wife...
...glacial pace at which Robert Symonds has directed The Country Wife is a further handicap. Speed, as well as brevity, is the soul of wit, and double entendres go best at the double-quick. Tame Wycherley is lame Wycherley-which is precisely what is wrong at Lincoln Center...