Word: trashed
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This was good reliable fun when Jean Gabin starred in it (Pépé le Moko, 1937) and when Charles Boyer and Hedy Lamarr adorned it (Algiers, 1938); it is good fun still. The older versions were slicker moviemaking but took this likable trash more seriously than it is worth. The new version has just about the right easygoing attitude. Peter Lorre can always be counted on. Tony Martin and Yvonne de Carlo, who have never before seemed entirely human, are simple, likable, even believable. Neatest measure of John Berry's sensible directing: the leads...
...York City officials totted up the results of a year's vandalism in public parks: 1,000 trees ruined, 11,000 square feet of windowpanes smashed,* 500 wire trash baskets destroyed, 4,500 light fixtures broken, five miles of slats bashed from park benches...
Among some Parisian café thinkers, who seem to believe that Chicago is run by Al Capone and that New Yorkers live in nightclubs, McCoy has been honored as the peer of Hemingway and Faulkner. The trash he writes is closer to the literature of men's-room walls...
...many respects, Joy to the World, is a much better imitation of Hollywood than an indictment. It digs just as deep into the trash basket, and just as often; and while urging Hollywood not to be cowardly, at no time does it make Broadway seem brave. But the show is very well produced. Alfred Drake makes an excellent Soren, and in her first Broadway role, Hollywood's Marsha Hunt looks and proves delightful. Playwright Scott gets in some funny cracks and lively scuffles, and knows what Hollywood is like; but every time his findings bump up against his formula...
Critic Brown admitted "that as a part of every healthy diet, everyone needs a certain amount of trash. . . . The comic books, however . . . [are] the lowest, most despicable, most harmful and unethical form of trash. . . As a people we must grow up. . . . We must put behind us that fear of the best and that passion for the mediocre which most Americans cultivate. Comics are the marijuana of the nursery . . . the bane of the bassinet...