Word: plotting
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...French adaptation of Flaubert's "Madamo Bovary." The picture is especially rich in scenic beauty with its panoramic views of the quietly appealing French countryside. The magnificent photography is in fact the film's chief virtue, for though the acting is capable and scenario well crystallized from the lengthy plot of the novel the picture is considerably protracted and it fails to maintain the serious aspects of the theme as it concentrates overmuch on satirizing the bourgeois mores of the unfortunate Madame Bovary. The comedy effects are good and the general effect is amusing, but its failure to bring...
...modernists. In some of his more lucid moments he does succeed in following one rule we expect, and quite justly I believe, all writers to adhere to--namely, to communicate to his readers an idea or set of connected ideas. Lacking for the most part any suggestion of a plot his stories, if they can be called such, do present a series of vivid and intensely vital experiences. "I am an Armenian," he says. "I have no idea what it is like to be an Armenian or what it is like to be an Englishman or Japanese or anything else...
...insert an accent and an extra e in the last word of the title. This should cause no greater harm than mispronunciation among cinemaddicts. For the rest, the picture sticks to the pattern of its footlight original, with satisfactory results. Fred Astaire is still the centre of whatever plot there is. A dancer on a European holiday, he pursues a young lady (Ginger Rogers) who is seeking divorce from an absurd geologist. There appear the impediments customary in musicomedy romance. Astaire is mistaken for a professional corespondent whom the young lady's guardians (Alice Brady and Edward Everett Horton...
...that implies that death is not inevitable"; opened their eyes wider & wider at this doom-implying youngster as they read further. To readers accustomed to a well-defined short-story tradition, Author Saroyan's subjective soliloquies may seem impertinently irrelevant to the price of eggs. His unconcern with plot is enough to drive contrivers of well-made stories mad with resentment. All Author Saroyan tries to tell about is "the truth of my presence on earth." In his own person or in thin disguise he writes about barber shops, bawdy houses, cold rooms in Manhattan or San Francisco, pawning...
...poetic newspaper, its fragmentary comments ranging through half-a-dozen centuries, cast in as many languages, sprinkled with "unprintable" Anglo-Saxon terms whenever they come in handy. In Eleven New Cantos the interludes of recognizable poetry are rarer, the shorthand economic diatribes more frequent. Hopeful speculators who try to plot the curve of Poet Pound's current issue will be sadly shaken as it zooms from the 18th Century to the 20th, bumps down to the 15th, changes its orbit as unpredictably as a wayward electron. Speculators may not get far with Poet Pound, but steady observers will note...