Word: yawns
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...original versions of Jesse's life and death and his brother's revenge had Henry Fonda, John Carradine, gorgeous technicolor and a fast-moving story. None of these were available this year, apparently, and the present low-budget production is a savorless blending of improbable dialogue, a yawn-provoking plot, and poor acting. One member of the cast didn't even bother to learn his lines. He must have sensed that it wouldn't make much difference...
...days (TIME, May 3), M.P.s had eulogized him many times. Last week, at his last parliamentary milestone, there was nothing left to say. While the House went on with its business, the Prime Minister sat at his desk, staring blankly at the rows of empty seats. After a giant yawn, just before the session's end, he got up and started out of the chamber. Members who saw him leaving thumped briefly on their desks. One member stood up and clapped. Old Mackenzie King waved a limp right hand, faded into the shadows behind the Speaker's throne...
...Yawns & Galluses. Through the fast-moving telecamera, the balloting, the demonstrations, the tub-thumping speeches and sweating caucuses looked bigger and more exciting than they actually were. It was the delegates who gave the convention most of its strawberry festival flavor -a homy mixture of galluses, shirtsleeves, palmetto fans, odd hats and lax faces. Most televiewers lost the thread of Senator Wherry's address, because of the woman in the background who blandly read a newspaper. Other strikingly human glimpses: a girl delegate smothering a yawn behind her compact during a dull speech; the grave face of a Puerto...
Indications were strong that nothing would happen. Vice-president Bob "Yawn" Crichton '50 gostured vaguely in the general direction of the Union, and murmured from behind his satyr-like visage, "Union, nice place to live, no quorum. But it's so far from Cronin's . . ." and he lapsed into customary hordrontalism...
...intense family man, and a curiosity among show people because he begins to yawn around 11 p.m. He has patiently steered his children* through their emotional mumps and ideological measles (bursts of radicalism here, seizures of Oxonian ambitions there). He is their idol, up to a point. When son Jimmy, at 13, wrote a piece of music (he goes in for pretty serious stuff), his mother suggested that he show it to Dad. "Aw," said Jimmy, "he'd just want to write the lyrics...