a speech or piece of writing that praises someone or something highly (plural: encomia). as the adjective encomiastic, means bestowing praise, eulogistic, laudatory
Kael's rave of The Godfather, Part II is finally a dull pileup of encomiums; by the time she places Coppola alongside Tolstoy, it's enough already.
lol
Kael's rave of The Godfather, Part II is finally a dull pileup of encomiums; by the time she places Coppola alongside Tolstoy, it's enough already.
lol
(noun) sustained and bitter railing and condemnation; vituperative utterance / (noun) an act or instance of vituperating
the rarity of one contemporary prose stylist analyzing another's devices so closely (if vituperatively)
the rarity of one contemporary prose stylist analyzing another's devices so closely (if vituperatively)
One ex-Kaelite willing to talk on the record was screen-writer-director Paul Schrader. "Pauline Kael was my mentor. She got me into this business. I was going to a religious school, Calvin College, and my college and my church for. bade films-therefore I got interested in them. I took some film courses at Columbia. One night at the West End Bar I was vociferously defending Pauline's book I Lost It at the Movies, and Paul Warshaw, Robert Warshaw's son, said: "Would you like to meet her? She lives nearby. So he brought me over to Pauline's apartment on West End Avenue. We got to talking. I hadn't seen many films but I had strong opinions. It went on so late that I ended up sleeping on her sofa. The next morning she said to me, 'You don't want to be a minister, you want to be a film critic.' And: 'If you ever want to go to film school I can arrange it? Not only did she help me get admitted to UCLA Film School though I didn't have the proper requirements, but thanks to her recommendation I also began reviewing for LA Free Press.
aww
One ex-Kaelite willing to talk on the record was screen-writer-director Paul Schrader. "Pauline Kael was my mentor. She got me into this business. I was going to a religious school, Calvin College, and my college and my church for. bade films-therefore I got interested in them. I took some film courses at Columbia. One night at the West End Bar I was vociferously defending Pauline's book I Lost It at the Movies, and Paul Warshaw, Robert Warshaw's son, said: "Would you like to meet her? She lives nearby. So he brought me over to Pauline's apartment on West End Avenue. We got to talking. I hadn't seen many films but I had strong opinions. It went on so late that I ended up sleeping on her sofa. The next morning she said to me, 'You don't want to be a minister, you want to be a film critic.' And: 'If you ever want to go to film school I can arrange it? Not only did she help me get admitted to UCLA Film School though I didn't have the proper requirements, but thanks to her recommendation I also began reviewing for LA Free Press.
aww