Word: comically
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...country sympathetically was during the shabby era of Senator Joe McCarthy," he says. Cooke is none too fond of the Reagan era either, contending that abroad the President "is seen as Teddy Roosevelt with a pack of missiles in his hand." And how is Cooke seen? "It's comic but true," he sighs. "I seem to be perceived in America as a benign old English gentleman, and in England as an enlightened American...
Scarface takes its title, plot and comic-grotesque tone from a 1932 film directed by Howard Hawks, written by Ben Hecht and John Lee Mahin and starring Paul Muni as a lightly fictionalized, heavily romanticized Al Capone. That Scarface ran 90 minutes; this one ambles along at nearly twice the length. The first film has a screwball-comedy briskness that made Tony an outsized monster, a festering lesion on the body politic, without stopping more than once or twice to spell out social message. The new Scarface is at bottom a bitter comedy about the perils of drug abuse...
...unwelcome guest adds a comic touch of paranoia. Guilty of having peeled the leasing sticker from her car, she fears that the Irish police will not let her leave the country...
...unintended consequences pushes us ceaselessly through the years, permitting no pause for perspective. Terms comes to at least glancing terms with almost every problem a person is likely to encounter in life, but it really has only one important piece of business in hand: an examination and resolution, in comic terms, of the relationship between a mother and a daughter. Everything else is in effect a diversionary tactic, a way of placing this brilliantly devised and disguised core of concern within the context of lifelike randomness...
Call it Richard Pryor Born Again. Not that this coruscating comic actor has seen the heavenly light, renounced his steady diet of high-sodium ghetto talk that would singe the ears of maiden aunts and Marine sergeants alike, and cutified himself into Nipsey Russell. Au contraire, as they say in the French Quarter of New Orleans, where this third chapter in Pryor's scarifyingly frank autobiography was shot. The man is still baaad as ever, effortlessly libeling ex-wives (make that all women), Ronald Reagan (make that most white folks) and a tiny racing crab that managed to scamper...