Questões de Inglês

A questão está relacionada ao texto abaixo.

 

[1]    In the years since she captured the
American imagination, much has been
written about Lucille Ball. While some
accounts portray her life as a romp, others
[5] portray her as chronically miserable, tense,
and unhappy. None of the many books
devoted to her or to I Love Lucy has
explained who she was, her contradictions
and the source of her ambition.

[10]........ her peak, her comedic mastery
seemed effortless, but in fact, in the films
Lucille Ball made in the thirties and forties
with The Three Stooges, The Marx Brothers,
Edgar Bergen, and Harold Lloyd, she was
[15] wooden. She appears to have been no more
aware than her co-stars of her natural gifts.
How did so apparently ordinary a performer
discover her great genius? How did she later
remain so seemingly humble in the face of
[20] her hold on the American public? Lucille Ball
is one of the greatest performing artists
America has produced and probably the
most familiar ........ virtue of the reach of
television. Her work is on a par with that of
[25] Chaplin or Keaton, but because her shows
are rerun every day – several times in some
markets, and even more often ........ cable
systems – her virtuosity may have become
too accessible to achieve the mystique of art.
[30] Admittedly, she did not write and direct her
own material as Chaplin and Keaton did, and
although her greatest character, Lucy
Ricardo, is a brilliant creation, she cannot be
judged profound. While Chaplin's Little
[35] Tramp outwits his betters, and Keaton
stoically bungles into success, both of these
classic clowns remain poignant and heroic
strugglers against life and fate. Lucy
Ricardo, in contrast, rebels the way most
[40] people rebel – without intending to abandon
what is comfortable about her life. That she
is doomed to fail in show business is not a
thing of tragedy, for her talent lies in the
realm of havoc and tricks. A blend of
[45] incompetence and cunning, she inspires
laughter with her subversion of the
conventional, and her exaggerated way with
the commonplace. In sum, Lucy Ricardo
defies the imperatives that mold lesser souls

[50] – reason and judgment, propriety and the
prudent course – and proclaims that one
dogged individual can prevail on her own
illogical terms.

    Biographers seldom have an opportunity
[55] to meet their subjects, but ........ the last day
of June 1986, I met Lucille Ball. Had I never
spent time with her, I doubt I could have
understood what a puzzle she presented.
Each of her changing moods had a force and
[60] intensity that she herself did not entirely
command.

    I went to see her on assignment for
Working Woman magazine. When her maid
answered the door in Beverly Hills, the
[65] theme of I Love Lucy was playing in the
house, as if my ringing the bell had cued the
waiting band. I sat expectantly on a green
armchair in her citrus-colored den until I
heard, "Kathleen! I'm late! Don't shake my
[70] hand, my nails are wet. Shake my elbow!"
Wearing a pink jogging suit, she strutted in,
elbow first. She was a few months shy of her
seventy-fifth birthday, a fact she could not
deny because for three decades her age was
[75] a published fact, but she tried to obscure the
obvious signs of time by wearing large
glasses tinted as blue as her eyes were
supposed to be. She had dropped the curtain
on the exaggerated expressions that
[80] delighted her audience, but still cultivated
her trademark carrot-colored curls.

Extraído de: BRADY, Kathleen. Lucille: The Life of Lucille Ball. Hyperion, 1994.

Considere as seguintes afirmações sobre o texto.

 

I - A atuação de Lucille Ball em filmes das décadas de 30 e 40 é pautada por sua expressividade. Tal marca acompanhou a atriz ao longo de sua carreira, conforme evidenciado pelo segmento exaggerated expressions (l. 79).

II - A personagem mais importante da atriz não pode ser considerada profunda. Lucy é simultaneamente malandra e atrapalhada, e seu humor está associado à subversão de convenções e ao lugar-comum.

III- Brady esteve na casa de Ball em 1986 para uma entrevista. Na ocasião, foram perceptíveis os esforços da atriz para reduzir os sinais da passagem do tempo através de grandes óculos azuis e da manutenção de duas características marcantes de seu cabelo.

 

Quais estão corretas?

Think you actually own all those movies you’ve been buying digitally? Think again

 

    A possible class-action lawsuit against Amazon Prime, one of the world’s biggest platforms for streaming film and television, has raised an odd question: what does it mean to buy something?

    The proposed lawsuit, which was filed last week in federal court and first reported by the Hollywood Reporter, alleges that Prime’s practice of offering users the chance to “buy” (as opposed to “rent”) content is inherently deceptive. The suit argues that buying something implies perpetual possession – but that Amazon, like many other streaming services, is really just selling its customers viewing licenses that can be revoked at any time, in keeping with fine print that most customers do not read or understand.

    Regardless of whether the lawsuit is ultimately successful, it speaks to a real problem in an age when people access films, television series, music and video games through fickle online platforms: impermanence. The advent of streaming promised a world of digital riches in which we could access libraries of our favorite content whenever we wanted. It hasn’t exactly worked out that way.

    Many movie fans are already familiar with a certain scenario. Let’s say that you are seized, this Friday night, by an urge to rewatch one of your favorite films, Double Indemnity. (You are a popular and sociable person – charismatic, attractive, with many friends – but feel under the weather this weekend.) If you are especially prudent, you own the film on a physical format – such as a Criterion Collection Blu-ray – but if not, you just type watch double indemnity 1944 into a search engine and see what comes up.

    Given that beloved older films and television shows are increasingly difficult to find on streaming platforms, you will be relieved to see the film listed on any of the services you subscribe to, such as Netflix, Hulu or HBO Max. When you click on the links, however, there is a high chance that one of those dreaded landing pages appears: “REMIND ME WHEN THIS IS AVAILABLE” or “THIS TITLE IS NOT CURRENTLY AVAILABLE IN YOUR COUNTRY.”

    There are ways to watch the film that don’t involve paying, but let’s say that you’re a scrupulously honest person. Fortunately, Amazon Prime has Double Indemnity available on demand: you can rent the movie, for 48 hours of playback, for $3.79 – or “buy” it for $14.99. The second option is more expensive, but if it is truly one of your favorite movies you may decide to buy it so you can watch it again whenever you want. And in just a couple of clicks – faster than Barbara Stanwyck can light a cigarette in the darkened living room of a California villa – the Paramount logo is blooming on your television screen. Not bad, right?

    The problem is that you aren’t downloading the movie, to own and watch forever; you’re just getting access to it on Amazon’s servers – a right that only lasts as long as Amazon also has access to the film, which depends on capricious licensing agreements that vary from title to title. A month or five years from now, that license may expire – and the movie will disappear from your Amazon library. Yet the $14.99 you paid does not reappear in your pocket.

    If you’re a film buff, like me, you may already have heard of things like this happening. In 2018, users of iTunes who had purchased titles for their digital libraries were unhappy to learn that the company had deleted some of them without telling them. Last year, customers of Funimation, an anime streaming service that was acquired by another company, discovered that the titles they had purchased from Funimation would not be ported over to the new platform. Video game and music fans have reported similar frustrations.

    If online chatter is any indication, a class-action lawsuit against Prime would have some takers. Reacting to the news of the suit, someone on Reddit described buying the director’s cut of Aliens from Prime; after watching it for 10 years, “I went to my purchased movies in the Amazon app and it is now gone. No explanation and no recourse.”

    “Happened to me,” another person wrote. “Bought the original Battlestar Galactica series. Now it’s gone.”

    (Amazon did not respond to my request for comment at the time of publication.)

    Disappointment with streaming’s limitations are a major reason that many pop culture fans have, in recent years, returned to a format long thought dying: physical media. Like vinyl records, which have had an unexpected renaissance, film discs and other seemingly old-school technologies have been embraced in recent years by a small but passionate segment of film and TV buffs. Earlier this year, the first new physical video store in many years opened in New York.

    In particular, movie fans have rediscovered Blu-rays, which debuted in 2006 as a higher-definition successor to DVDs, as well as their new and even higher-definition sibling, the 4K UHD, which has become the gold-standard for “home cinema” enthusiasts. I’m one of those physical-media fans. I have about 400 movies on disc, mostly Blu-rays, hidden in a cabinet beneath my TV. In the age of streaming, some of my friends think I’m deranged.

    But the films look great, don’t need the internet to watch and – most importantly – never disappear.

From: https://www.theguardian.com/2025/aug/27/

The author makes it clear that there was an attempt to elicit a comment from Amazon, which

Think you actually own all those movies you’ve been buying digitally? Think again

 

    A possible class-action lawsuit against Amazon Prime, one of the world’s biggest platforms for streaming film and television, has raised an odd question: what does it mean to buy something?

    The proposed lawsuit, which was filed last week in federal court and first reported by the Hollywood Reporter, alleges that Prime’s practice of offering users the chance to “buy” (as opposed to “rent”) content is inherently deceptive. The suit argues that buying something implies perpetual possession – but that Amazon, like many other streaming services, is really just selling its customers viewing licenses that can be revoked at any time, in keeping with fine print that most customers do not read or understand.

    Regardless of whether the lawsuit is ultimately successful, it speaks to a real problem in an age when people access films, television series, music and video games through fickle online platforms: impermanence. The advent of streaming promised a world of digital riches in which we could access libraries of our favorite content whenever we wanted. It hasn’t exactly worked out that way.

    Many movie fans are already familiar with a certain scenario. Let’s say that you are seized, this Friday night, by an urge to rewatch one of your favorite films, Double Indemnity. (You are a popular and sociable person – charismatic, attractive, with many friends – but feel under the weather this weekend.) If you are especially prudent, you own the film on a physical format – such as a Criterion Collection Blu-ray – but if not, you just type watch double indemnity 1944 into a search engine and see what comes up.

    Given that beloved older films and television shows are increasingly difficult to find on streaming platforms, you will be relieved to see the film listed on any of the services you subscribe to, such as Netflix, Hulu or HBO Max. When you click on the links, however, there is a high chance that one of those dreaded landing pages appears: “REMIND ME WHEN THIS IS AVAILABLE” or “THIS TITLE IS NOT CURRENTLY AVAILABLE IN YOUR COUNTRY.”

    There are ways to watch the film that don’t involve paying, but let’s say that you’re a scrupulously honest person. Fortunately, Amazon Prime has Double Indemnity available on demand: you can rent the movie, for 48 hours of playback, for $3.79 – or “buy” it for $14.99. The second option is more expensive, but if it is truly one of your favorite movies you may decide to buy it so you can watch it again whenever you want. And in just a couple of clicks – faster than Barbara Stanwyck can light a cigarette in the darkened living room of a California villa – the Paramount logo is blooming on your television screen. Not bad, right?

    The problem is that you aren’t downloading the movie, to own and watch forever; you’re just getting access to it on Amazon’s servers – a right that only lasts as long as Amazon also has access to the film, which depends on capricious licensing agreements that vary from title to title. A month or five years from now, that license may expire – and the movie will disappear from your Amazon library. Yet the $14.99 you paid does not reappear in your pocket.

    If you’re a film buff, like me, you may already have heard of things like this happening. In 2018, users of iTunes who had purchased titles for their digital libraries were unhappy to learn that the company had deleted some of them without telling them. Last year, customers of Funimation, an anime streaming service that was acquired by another company, discovered that the titles they had purchased from Funimation would not be ported over to the new platform. Video game and music fans have reported similar frustrations.

    If online chatter is any indication, a class-action lawsuit against Prime would have some takers. Reacting to the news of the suit, someone on Reddit described buying the director’s cut of Aliens from Prime; after watching it for 10 years, “I went to my purchased movies in the Amazon app and it is now gone. No explanation and no recourse.”

    “Happened to me,” another person wrote. “Bought the original Battlestar Galactica series. Now it’s gone.”

    (Amazon did not respond to my request for comment at the time of publication.)

    Disappointment with streaming’s limitations are a major reason that many pop culture fans have, in recent years, returned to a format long thought dying: physical media. Like vinyl records, which have had an unexpected renaissance, film discs and other seemingly old-school technologies have been embraced in recent years by a small but passionate segment of film and TV buffs. Earlier this year, the first new physical video store in many years opened in New York.

    In particular, movie fans have rediscovered Blu-rays, which debuted in 2006 as a higher-definition successor to DVDs, as well as their new and even higher-definition sibling, the 4K UHD, which has become the gold-standard for “home cinema” enthusiasts. I’m one of those physical-media fans. I have about 400 movies on disc, mostly Blu-rays, hidden in a cabinet beneath my TV. In the age of streaming, some of my friends think I’m deranged.

    But the films look great, don’t need the internet to watch and – most importantly – never disappear.

From: https://www.theguardian.com/2025/aug/27/

In the circumstance of purchasing a film from a streaming platform, in case the access to the product is interrupted, according to the text, the customer is

The text explains what really happens when a person decides to buy a film from a streaming platform, exemplifying with Amazon Prime. In such a dealing, the person

It is mentioned in the text that, in the early days of streaming, people were assured they would get access to all types of materials of their choice the moment they wanted. That

Think you actually own all those movies you’ve been buying digitally? Think again

 

    A possible class-action lawsuit against Amazon Prime, one of the world’s biggest platforms for streaming film and television, has raised an odd question: what does it mean to buy something?

    The proposed lawsuit, which was filed last week in federal court and first reported by the Hollywood Reporter, alleges that Prime’s practice of offering users the chance to “buy” (as opposed to “rent”) content is inherently deceptive. The suit argues that buying something implies perpetual possession – but that Amazon, like many other streaming services, is really just selling its customers viewing licenses that can be revoked at any time, in keeping with fine print that most customers do not read or understand.

    Regardless of whether the lawsuit is ultimately successful, it speaks to a real problem in an age when people access films, television series, music and video games through fickle online platforms: impermanence. The advent of streaming promised a world of digital riches in which we could access libraries of our favorite content whenever we wanted. It hasn’t exactly worked out that way.

    Many movie fans are already familiar with a certain scenario. Let’s say that you are seized, this Friday night, by an urge to rewatch one of your favorite films, Double Indemnity. (You are a popular and sociable person – charismatic, attractive, with many friends – but feel under the weather this weekend.) If you are especially prudent, you own the film on a physical format – such as a Criterion Collection Blu-ray – but if not, you just type watch double indemnity 1944 into a search engine and see what comes up.

    Given that beloved older films and television shows are increasingly difficult to find on streaming platforms, you will be relieved to see the film listed on any of the services you subscribe to, such as Netflix, Hulu or HBO Max. When you click on the links, however, there is a high chance that one of those dreaded landing pages appears: “REMIND ME WHEN THIS IS AVAILABLE” or “THIS TITLE IS NOT CURRENTLY AVAILABLE IN YOUR COUNTRY.”

    There are ways to watch the film that don’t involve paying, but let’s say that you’re a scrupulously honest person. Fortunately, Amazon Prime has Double Indemnity available on demand: you can rent the movie, for 48 hours of playback, for $3.79 – or “buy” it for $14.99. The second option is more expensive, but if it is truly one of your favorite movies you may decide to buy it so you can watch it again whenever you want. And in just a couple of clicks – faster than Barbara Stanwyck can light a cigarette in the darkened living room of a California villa – the Paramount logo is blooming on your television screen. Not bad, right?

    The problem is that you aren’t downloading the movie, to own and watch forever; you’re just getting access to it on Amazon’s servers – a right that only lasts as long as Amazon also has access to the film, which depends on capricious licensing agreements that vary from title to title. A month or five years from now, that license may expire – and the movie will disappear from your Amazon library. Yet the $14.99 you paid does not reappear in your pocket.

    If you’re a film buff, like me, you may already have heard of things like this happening. In 2018, users of iTunes who had purchased titles for their digital libraries were unhappy to learn that the company had deleted some of them without telling them. Last year, customers of Funimation, an anime streaming service that was acquired by another company, discovered that the titles they had purchased from Funimation would not be ported over to the new platform. Video game and music fans have reported similar frustrations.

    If online chatter is any indication, a class-action lawsuit against Prime would have some takers. Reacting to the news of the suit, someone on Reddit described buying the director’s cut of Aliens from Prime; after watching it for 10 years, “I went to my purchased movies in the Amazon app and it is now gone. No explanation and no recourse.”

    “Happened to me,” another person wrote. “Bought the original Battlestar Galactica series. Now it’s gone.”

    (Amazon did not respond to my request for comment at the time of publication.)

    Disappointment with streaming’s limitations are a major reason that many pop culture fans have, in recent years, returned to a format long thought dying: physical media. Like vinyl records, which have had an unexpected renaissance, film discs and other seemingly old-school technologies have been embraced in recent years by a small but passionate segment of film and TV buffs. Earlier this year, the first new physical video store in many years opened in New York.

    In particular, movie fans have rediscovered Blu-rays, which debuted in 2006 as a higher-definition successor to DVDs, as well as their new and even higher-definition sibling, the 4K UHD, which has become the gold-standard for “home cinema” enthusiasts. I’m one of those physical-media fans. I have about 400 movies on disc, mostly Blu-rays, hidden in a cabinet beneath my TV. In the age of streaming, some of my friends think I’m deranged.

    But the films look great, don’t need the internet to watch and – most importantly – never disappear.

From: https://www.theguardian.com/2025/aug/27/

According to the text, a lawsuit against Amazon Prime has brought into question the idea of ‘buying’ because the word implicitly contains the notion of