An actor is never so great as when he reminds you of an animal—falling like a cat, lying like a dog, moving like a fox.


New Yorker (Feb. 20, 1960)


An actor is never so great as when he reminds you of an animal—falling like a cat, lying like a dog, moving like a fox.

An actor is never so great as when he reminds you of an animal—falling like a cat, lying like a dog, moving like a fox.

An actor is never so great as when he reminds you of an animal—falling like a cat, lying like a dog, moving like a fox.

An actor is never so great as when he reminds you of an animal—falling like a cat, lying like a dog, moving like a fox.