Liars and Saints

Recently, I wrote about Lisa Jewell's "Watching You," and I have to say, three-quarters in, I still feel that this novel does not disappoint. I don't think these characters will stay with me much longer than the next two or three days--but while they're here--feast your eyes on.... - The fifteen-year-old who may be sleeping with her headmaster-- and who may also be pregnant! - The mother with extreme OCD/bipolar disorder-- who believes that a gang of conspirators is hounding her (and who may also, beneath all that craziness, have an important key to understanding the novel in its entirety, because you can't always judge a book by its cover) --! - The seemingly upstanding citizen who might have a history of rape-- and who might be plotting to rape again! - The glassy-eyed mom-to-be-- who has a shadowy past involving a suicide and some serious and troubling doubts about motherhood! - The newlywed who gropes a bit on the side-- and who has a habit of sp

"A Star Is Born" is interested in sadism and in masochism--among other things. Most of the heavy-lifting goes to Bradley Cooper. A sadist: Cooper's character, Jackson, berates Lady Gaga's character, Ally, for not being profound enough. (Ally has been singing about an alluring pair of buttocks. "Why'dya come around me with an ass like that?" This is Hollywood, so there isn't a great deal of evidence that Jackson actually is a better, deeper songwriter. The main thing to cite: Jackson, contemplating his own ennui, observes that it may be "time to let the old ways die," and then, folksy philosopher that he is, he informs us that it "takes a lot to change a man." Hell, it takes a lot to try. Fair enough.) A masochist: In a compelling scene, Jackson humiliates himself publicly, and also embarrasses his wife. (I think we're at the Grammy Awards.) And, of course, Jackson allows himself to fall under the sway of that treacherous p

Tim Burton had made some mega-hits before "Ed Wood," but "Ed Wood" itself was a commercial failure. Also, it's regarded, generally, as Burton's greatest film. Go figure! -You can see certain trends in Burton's career. For example, Burton employed the actress Lisa Marie as "Vampira," and he later gave her a roll in "Mars Attacks!" I believe you can draw a straight line from Lisa Marie to Eva Green, Burton's muse in "Dark Shadows" and "Dumbo." Same sultriness, same pallor, same strange mix of dryness and intensity. Another trend: Burton is fascinated with the figure of The Artist. The Artist as Protagonist. I'm thinking of the Pumpkin King ("Nightmare Before Christmas"), Amy Adams's character in "Big Eyes," and of course the title character in "Ed Wood." (You could argue that Sweeney Todd is also an artist-figure. "A barber and his wife....a proper artist with a knife.

As I've often remarked, there's a kind of formula that applies to most scripts. Good scripts, bad scripts. It's the hero's journey formula. A recap: Our hero lives in an Ordinary World. (That might be Simba's childhood tomfoolery in "The Lion King," or Charlie Bucket's life of poverty, Roald Dahl-style, near the toothpaste-cap-factory, eating slop, and reheated slop, etc.) Some kind of summons arrives. The hero must enter an Enchanted World. (Simba's father dies, and Simba must battle to take his place on the throne. Charlie Bucket gets the golden ticket, etc.) In the Enchanted World, some kind of grail awaits our hero. But the grail is hidden. Perhaps the grail is a trinket; perhaps the grail is the overthrowing of evil or the restoration of good rule throughout the land. (Simba's grail is the title LION KING.) Various allies and tricksters join our hero on his path toward the grail. Friendly warthogs. Scar's minions, who might see

I don't know what to think. I don't know what to feel. Is this normal? He's an adult. He's twice my age. There's no way. No. There's no way. But OH GOD. I wish there was.  Dear Diary: I think I'm in love with my English teacher. So begins Lisa Jewell's "Watching You," a pulpy thriller recently praised in the NYT. I haven't read it yet, but this will be my book for the week. The NYT listed several new thrillers, and the writer offered qualified praise for a few. The praise followed one of two trends. (1) The book is maybe overly ambitious and lumpy, but gosh, what risk-taking! Or (2) The book is slick and professional, but maybe slightly too slick and too professional. I'll happily accept a book that fits scenario (2) any day, and apparently Jewell's book is a scenario (2) specimen. I'll take it! Epistolary novels go way, way back. Samuel Richardson was a fan in the 1700s. "Watching You" isn't technically t

Some Things to Love in Season Two of "Divorce": - Smart graphic design. The NYT has published an entire piece about one critic's fondness for the opening sequence of "The Good Fight." (Understandably. That's a delightful opening sequence.) I'd like to say something similarly breathless about the (quick, plot-less) opening of "Divorce." All you see is the word "Divorce," in caps. There's a jaunty little tune in the background. The "O" in "Divorce" splits into halves, and the "O" seems to pulse, like a beating heart. The halves pull away from each other, then bounce back inward, then away, then in, then away again. Tension builds. (I'm reminded of the opening of "Six Feet Under," which involved, as far as I recall, two people releasing themselves from a handshake.) After a moment of the pulsing, all of the color suddenly drains from the frame. The music stops, and on the "button

People around me aren't breathless about Jennifer Haigh, and they should be. If only for "Baker Towers." I've read "Faith" and "Heat and Light," and those books didn't do a great deal for me, but "Baker Towers" is clearly a success. A story involves a leap from an Ordinary World to some kind of Enchanted World. For the family at the center of "Baker Towers," the leap seems to involve a death. A Polish man in Western Pennsylvania dies young, and his wife is left to raise the kids. She is Italian--her English is shaky, and she isn't fully comfortable among Polish-American neighbors--and she maybe doesn't have time, or energy, to keep a close eye on each one of her children. And so the imperfect children--imperfectly raised--try to cope with what life has given them. One stumbles into a bad marriage with a woman who drinks too much and who simply can't take an interest in Bakerton. This child--the oldest son, th

"The Wife" was mediocre, and Glenn Close was fine, but I'M OK WITH LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT AWARDS. Think of Glenn's impending Oscar win as a lifetime achievement compensatory gesture. And so it's time to revisit my favorite Glenn trivia: * Glenn helped in one of history's most famous COMPENSATORY GESTURE events. I'm talking about Jeremy Irons's win for "Reversal of Fortune." Mr. Irons was OK in that sort-of-undistinguished movie, but he really deserved the Oscar for his work one year prior--his work in "Dead Ringers." Overlook the man for "Dead Ringers"? Hand him an Oscar for "Reversal of Fortune." Who assisted Mr. Irons in "Reversal"? That's right. Creepy Glenn Close. * When did Glenn deserve to win? For "Fatal Attraction," obviously. Not that year? Then hand it to her for "Dangerous Liaisons." Good grief. She doesn't really deserve the prize this year; the rightful winner

....Lois Lowry won big prizes for The Giver and Number the Stars ....and that is fine. But I prefer Anastasia. A few thoughts... 1 ....Anastasia is an artist in training. Like Anne Frank, Anastasia simply takes notes. She does not worry about being profound. She wonders why she dislikes her teacher...who...I think....has a hairy mole. Anastasia proudly acquires new words. She becomes absorbed in the story of her parents ....the story of their romantic careers. Her mother speaks candidly about the friendly lawyer whose vision of the future simply did not line up with a bohemian life. Anastasia studies her dad’s poetry and learns that a broken heart is good for output. So true...and how many other kiddie books will tell you this? 2 ....like Tomie DePaola....Anastasia will learn that teachers are not infallible. Anastasia writes a good poem and it is not seen as such. And that is life.   3 ....Anastasia keeps a journal of her likes and dislikes....which seems like a small thi

"The barometer of his emotional nature was set for a spell of riot." These words, on the printed page, had the unsettling effect no doubt intended, but with a difference. At once, he put the book aside; closed it, but with his fingers still between the pages....This in case he wanted to look at it again. But he did not need to. Already he knew the sentence by heart....Now, as he relaxed his grip and dropped the book to the floor, he said aloud to himself: "That's me, all right." The book hit the rug, and the Scottie looked up from its basket. "You heard me, Mac!" he called out. "That's what I said!" He glared at the sleepy dog and added, loudly, burlesquing his fear and delight: "It's ME they're talking about! Me!" He had been alone for nearly an hour. When Wick left, they had had one of their familiar and painful scenes, a scene in which he had played dumb, as usual, leaving to his brother the burden of talking arou

I wanted to meet him because I loved a book he had written. I had seen in it that when he was funny, as he often was, it was not because he was trying to entertain but because he himself was enchanted by the comedy in the incident he was describing. Getting this incident, these people, this quirk of human behavior down, and getting it down right--that was what he had been enjoying, rather than "expressing himself": and while books written in this way are not necessarily great books, this is the way the great books I love best are written. It is the real thing. We had exchanged a good many letters about his writing, and I had heard something about him from other people. He was an Egyptian whose passport had been withdrawn because he was a communist, and he had been living for some years as an exile in Germany.... And so begins the story of Didi and Diana Athill. Ms. Athill has just died at 101. She is among my favorite writers. "After a Funeral"--quoted above--

As I mentioned yesterday, Madonna--like Aslan--is on the move. She is sixty, but, still, she is going to put on her face and sing for the masses, on tour, once more. As I mentioned yesterday, Madonna's news has me thinking about a curious moment in her career--"Dick Tracy." As I recall, "Dick Tracy" doesn't really work. I'm not sure why. It has Warren Beatty, Al Pacino, and Mandy Patinkin. It has a Sondheim score--for which (or for one part of which) Sondheim was justly handed an Academy Award. "Dick Tracy" has bright colors and opulent noir sets and larger-than-life characters, but, as I recall, the movie is a slog. You can't always make smart Hollywood predictions. Such is life. Madonna didn't make much of an impact in "Dick Tracy," but she did apparently have an affair, backstage, with Warren Beatty. Perhaps this affair was invigorating: Around this same time, Madonna released an album, "I'm Breathless," a

At sixty, Madonna is about to go on tour once again. This news brings to mind some lines from Madonna's all-time best lyricist, Oscar winner Stephen Sondheim: Yesterday it seemed the world was about to end, didn't it? Looked as though it wouldn't last out the year... Yesterday, disaster waited around the bend. Well, my friend: Spring is here. The source of humor here is that our speakers are gangsters. They're out to rape and rob and pillage. So the celebratory song--the song we might assign to a cheery, do-gooding Shirley Temple--is really a song about doing destructive things. Bye-bye, blues; so long, adversity! Happiness, hello! Keep the status quo Permanently so! "Dick Tracy" is set in the past, and so Sondheim seems to be writing in his Cole Porter voice. There's something old-timey in the choice of words. The diction feels less "current" than--say--Mary's diction in "Merrily We Roll Along." (The idea of anthro

I had my birthday party on Sunday afternoon. The Rin Tin Tin movie was a big hit with my classmates. I got two brooches, a bookmark, and two books. I'll start by saying a few things about my school and my class, beginning with the students.  Betty Bloemendaal looks kind of poor, and I think she probably is. She lives on some obscure street in West Amsterdam, and none of us know where it is. She does very well at school, but that's because she works so hard, not because she's so smart. She's pretty quiet. Jacqueline van Maarsen is supposedly my best friend, but I've never had a real friend. At first I thought Jacque would be one, but I was badly mistaken.  D.Q. is a very nervous girl who is always forgetting things, so the teachers keep assigning her extra homework as punishment. She's very kind, especially to GZ...... Did you know there's a new graphic novel version of "The Diary of Anne Frank"? I always resist graphic novels, because I

Some updates on the Robert Wone case (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murder_of_Robert_Eric_Wone)........ - The question of consent. Many people online--on the Who Murdered Wone? site--argue that consent vs. no-consent doesn't matter here. The argument is this: Look, Wone surely did not consent to be murdered. Whether or not he was a willing participant in the sex stuff? That's useless hair-splitting. I have to disagree. Of course Wone didn't ask to be murdered, and his killers should be held accountable for having committed murder. But who could seriously believe that details do not matter? Details are everything. Details are what make life fascinating. I can see a few scenarios for Wone: (1) Wone arrives for a kinky night, the drugs go wrong, Wone is dying, Price panics, Price stages a murder (by "intruder") to cover up the drug-intake issue. This is pretty awful--but it's not *the most awful scenario imaginable* ... (2) Wone arrives with no plan for a

"Younger" announces its intentions early--in the first episode, in fact. It's a throwaway scene. Sutton Foster has been tasked with making Jane Austen "sexy" for young readers. The means of attack will be a Jane Austen Twitter account. As Jane Austen, Sutton Foster crazily Tweets: "Mr. Darcy hath just sent to me an etching of his manhood! Shall I respond?" Look past a few things here. For example: Mr. Darcy, a fictional character, would not correspond with Jane Austen, an actual human being. And: Mr. Darcy would not do something as coarse as an iPhone-manhood-photo assault. And: Someone as shrewd and as relentlessly NOT needy as Jane Austen would never take to Twitter to ask what she should do, if accosted in this particular way. Look past all of that. Darren Starr is saying something pretty clear here: "My show will take some of its cues from Jane Austen. This will be a romantic comedy, in the tradition of 'Emma' or 'Pride and Pre

The first time Lt. Finnegan pulled me over, I actually thought he was a pretty decent guy. I mean, there's no question I was going over the limit, maybe thirty-five in a residential zone, so I can't say I was surprised to see the lights flashing in my rearview mirror. I was mostly just frustrated--disappointed in myself and worried about what Eddie would say when he found out I'd gotten a speeding ticket in the company Prius after just a few weeks on the job. The cop who tapped on my window was older than I expected, a big, white-haired guy with a white mustache, probably not too far from retirement. He looked a little bored, like he'd asked a few too many people for their license and registration over the years. "What's the hurry, son?" "Just running a little late." I glanced at the insulated pouches stacked on the passenger seat, in case he'd missed the magnetic decal on my door: SUSTAINABLE PIZZA...FOR THE PLANET WE LOVE. "I got

Our car boiled over again just after my mother and I crossed the Continental Divide. While we were waiting for it to cool we heard, from somewhere above us, the bawling of an airhorn. The sound got louder and then a big truck came around the corner and shot past us into the next curve, its trailer shimmying wildly. We stared after it. "Oh, Toby," my mother said, "he's lost his brakes." The sound of the horn grew distant, then faded in the wind that sighed in the trees all around us. By the time we got there, quite a few people were standing along the cliff where the truck went over. It had smashed through the guardrails and fallen hundreds of feet through empty space to the river below, where it lay on its back among the boulders. It looked pitifully small. A stream of thick black smoke rose from the cab, feathering out in the wind....My mother put her arm around my shoulder... For the rest of the day she kept looking over at me, touching me, brushing back

(5) "Unto Us a Son Is Given." Donna Leon has written somewhere near four million murder mysteries, most (all?) featuring Guido Brunetti. I say "most" because there was a stand-alone mystery somewhere in there, but I can't recall if a murder was involved. Leon says she cares more about the why than about the who of the mystery--and that's certainly clear. She could maybe invest more time in the who. But I'm sympathetic to her point. Speaking on Agatha Christie, Leon said it's too easy for a writer to view a novel as a puzzle, and not as a deep exploration of character. I'm always happy to return to Leon's world--the food, the descriptions of Venice, the quiet heroism of Brunetti, the reliable antics of Patta, Paola, and Elettra--and I'm looking forward to Brunetti's return this March. (4) "Kiss Me, Kate." You have to hand it to Kelli O'Hara: She has had a long-term commitment to the musical theater. Perhaps she has gone

Anders couldn't get to the bank until just before it closed, so of course the line was endless and he got stuck behind two women whose loud, stupid conversation put him in a murderous temper. He was never in the best of tempers anyway, Anders -- a book critic known for the weary, elegant savagery with which he dispatched almost everything he reviewed. With the line still doubled around the rope, one of the tellers stuck a POSITION CLOSED sign in her window and walked to the back of the bank, where she leaned against a desk and began to pass the time with a man shuffling papers. The women in front of Anders broke off their conversation and watched the teller with hatred. "Oh, that's nice," one of them said. She turned to Anders and added, confident of his accord, "One of those little human touched that keep us coming back for more." Anders had conceived his own towering hatred of the teller, but he immediately turned it on the presumptuous crybaby in fron

The crime novelist Laura Lippman attended Northwestern, then worked as a journalist for something like twelve years. She wanted to write stories. The Tess Monaghan series began: smart detective books with an unusually rich, detailed setting, complicated "love letters" to Baltimore. The fabulous success of the Monaghan books seemed to help bring about a "life change" for Lippman; a marriage ended, and a new marriage began, and this time the spouse was David Simon, who created "The Wire." By all accounts, David Simon has an unwieldy ego, and you would want someone as tough as Lippman to cut him down to size. I don't know about you--but, if given a choice between a pretentious "Wire" episode and a twisty, fast-moving Lippman novel, I will choose the Lippman novel every time. Midway through the Monaghan books, Lippman seemed to grow restless: "Stand-alone novels" began to appear on the scene. Maybe this is why people call Lippman th

Soon after my seventh birthday, my parents took me as usual to spend Christmas with my grandmother in Norway. And it was over there, while my father and mother and I were driving in icy weather just north of Oslo, that our car skidded off the road and went tumbling down into a rocky ravine. My parents were killed. I was firmly strapped into the back seat and received only a cut on the forehead. I won't go into the horrors of that terrible afternoon. I still get the shivers when I think about it. I finished up, of course, back in my grandmother's house with her arms around me tight and both of us crying the whole night long. "What are we going to do now?" I asked her through the tears. "You will stay here with me," she said, "and I will look after you." "Aren't I going back to England?" "No," she said. "I could never do that. Heaven shall take my soul, but Norway shall keep my bones." The very next day,

People say women (and gay men) get half-hours of prestige TV, and their shows are called comedies. Straight men get hour-shows, and those shows are called dramas. Women/gay men: "Enlightened," "Girls," "Insecure," "Nurse Jackie," "Weeds," "Sex and the City," "Divorce," and so on. Straight men: "House of Cards," "Game of Thrones," "The Wire," "Sneaky Pete," "Breaking Bad," "Mad Men," and so on. I have to say, I almost always prefer the comedies (or faux-comedies). I think a half-hour is almost always preferable to an  hour-show . I think an hour-show is almost always given to bloat. This has become a cliche about Netflix programming, specifically. I'm looking at you, "The Crown." And "Ozark." And "House of Cards." -When Sarah Jessica Parker unrolled "Divorce," she said it would be the opposite of SATC. That'