The world of film (in clerihews)

It can't be just me. I find this picture really unsettling. Maybe it's the hunger in his infant eyes.

With thanks to George Szirtes, who started the whole thing. Here are my better ones.

Got really fanski
with his famous tracking shot over the Dakota.
But nicer? Not one iota.

could be a bit thick:
when it came to being all human and warm,
he preferred form.

is in his milieu
portraying broken noblesse,
or peeing on the stewardess.

Some come to Godard
Trop tard:
for, to really admire a gamine,
it helps if you’re either a bloke, or 15.

Richard Burton
drew the curtain
over his marriages. Regarding divorce,
He drank, and expressed remorse.

said his wife, ‘I wish you would sing more,
not just sit there playing chess against Death and being glum’.
But Ingmar kept shtum.

Pressburger knew a lot about nuns.
Pretty ones.
About George Gordon Lord Byron,
less: but he was tryon.

(It helps here if you know that the scariest nun in Black Narcissus – the maddest, baddest and most dangerous to know, and the most ‘luminously beautiful’, as the phrase keeps going in this house – was played by Kathleen Byron.)

WC Fields
never yields:
falling down the stairs, he holds his martini still and never drops ix,
not caring whether he smashes up his coccyx.

And yesterday we were having fun with a misspelling of Cary Grant – ‘Grant Kray was in Four weddings and a funeral. He’s the one that kneecaps Simon Callow’ – which I’m sure planted thoughts of Mr Leach:

Cary Grant
loved his aunt.
When he was alone,
He would try her eau de cologne.

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