Penguins of Madagascar
The pacing is so zany, the jokes are so rapid-fire and the sight gags are so inspired that it’s impossible not to get caught up…
STOCKHOLM, Sweden - The premiere of Jan Troell's "The Emigrants" was held in the Roda Kvarn, a cozy little jewelbox of a theater that was built in 1915, when Swedish silent films were finding an international audience. But Troell's film wasn't merely post-silent; it was post-Bergman, post-sex, post- the image of Swedish films in the 1960s.
"Oh, what a funny thing happened this afternoon," Melina Mercouri said, curling her feet beneath her and her voice around me. "A man came to interview me from the newspaper and I said, let me make you feel at home. What can 1 do for you? And he said, Peel me a grape. I peeled a grape and I fed it to him." She smiled wickedly. "A little bit at a time. Now I ask what can I do for you?"
James Wong Howe settled himself into a swivel chair on the stage of the Carnegie Theater, looked around, and asked it they could turn the house lights up. That's Jimmy Howe for you: Before you shoot a scene, you light it first.
"A water bed?" Robert Mitchum said. "What would that be? A bed filled with water?"
Carrie Snodgress had invited her parents to join her for the Thursday fashion luncheon at the Pump Room, and now they were looking at a model wearing something long and slinky from Saks Fifth Avenue.
MALIBU, 1970 -- The door flew open from inside, revealing Lee Marvin in a torrid embrace, bent over Michelle Triola, a fond hand on her rump. "Love!" he said. "It's all love in this house. Nothing but love. All you need is love . . ."
HOLLYWOOD -- "Make a reservation at Le Bistro," Groucho Marx said over the telephone. "And make sure you make the reservation. I went there once with some schnook from Life who thought you could walk right in. And for God's sake make sure it's even open on Sunday. If it isn't, make a reservation at the Polo Lounge of the Beverly Hills Hotel. To me it's just a device to get a free lunch. If I mention 'Minnie's Boys,' it will be strictly by accident. And for God's sake don't bring along any gadgets, any of that electronic gear...."
Calling yourself the author of the year's biggest novel,'' Erich Segal said, "is like calling yourself the world's greatest newspaper. It makes it sound like nobody else will say it for you, so you gotta say it for yourself . . . "
NEW YORK -- They said making a movie about Woodstock was like . . . three days without sleep. The cameramen all wired together, with Wadleigh shouting instructions over the earphones. And Don Lenser crying during the Airplane's set, crying because he was right there on top of them, he practically had his camera shoved down Grace Slick's neck, he was practically in her mouth, and all that noise pounding through him, surrounded by banks of loudspeakers - big mothers! - and crying, you could hear him crying over the earphones, crying because he wasn't able to move because he had to hold the goddam camera steady...
Pat Boone (you once made him cry when you said good-by) will be 36 in June, and he wears fancy leather spats these days instead of the white bucks, but his face is still unlined, his eyes are still bright, his voice is still clear and he still keeps the faith.