Word: harold
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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Among the witnesses at congressional hearings on the Iran-contra scandal, former National Security Adviser John Poindexter was the only one "who didn't hang Oliver North out to dry." So says North, who last week sought to convince Federal Judge Harold Greene that he should not be forced to testify at Poindexter's upcoming trial. North claimed that his memories of the secret arms sale to Iran had become so intertwined with the account Poindexter gave Congress that he could no longer distinguish between them. The implication was that he could not give evidence against Poindexter without violating...
...major film studio. To date, most of the independent film companies that went public in the mid-'80s have been stock-market duds. Will Brooks beat the odds? Some Wall Streeters are cautiously optimistic: "Mel has the ability and contacts to make a success of this," says analyst Harold Vogel of Merrill Lynch. Even so, the title of Brooks' next film, Life Stinks, is not exactly bullish...
That leaves only one Iran-contra defendant still facing trial: former National Security Adviser John Poindexter. He insists that testimony by former President Ronald Reagan is vital to his defense. Reagan is resisting Poindexter's subpoena. If Judge Harold Greene rules that Poindexter's ex-boss need not testify, the retired admiral presumably will ask to have his case dismissed...
This Bronx-reared Barnum has magazines in his blood. In the 1960s and '70s, working as a cover designer with the late editor Harold Hayes, Lois turned Esquire's cover into a gallery that registered every shock of those seismic years. As an adman, he taught America's children the insistent demand "I want my Maypo." In the early 1980s he recycled the line to meet their grownup tastes: "I want my MTV." And he's the man who told people, "When you got it, flaunt it" (for Braniff airlines, remember?), a pretty good description of his advertising ethos...
...ballerina that ends almost before it has begun. Director- choreographer Tommy Tune provides a pretentious last-minutes ballet between characters introduced as love and death. Despite these shortcomings, Grand Hotel is the musical winner of the season, bringing to mind, if not quite matching, the kinetic narratives of Harold Prince, Bob Fosse and Michael Bennett in their heyday. Tune takes a set more cluttered than Threepenny's -- fluted columns, a revolving door, dozens of chairs -- and weaves around it a ceaseless flow. If some of the wizardry is borrowed from bygone auteur directors, that is in keeping with the real...