Liars and Saints

A closeted high-school kid falls for another closeted kid. The two boys have an anonymous e-mail correspondence. (Like "She Loves Me," sort of!) Flirtatious moments occur. Feelings grow. Can a meeting happen? With masks? With disguised voices?   Meanwhile, our closeted hero, Simon, also has an irritating frenemy, Martin. Martin wants help "courting" Abby. Simon knows Abby; Martin knows Simon's secret. If Simon doesn't help, an "outing" may occur..... This has Jane Austen vibes. Also, I prefer the book ("Simon versus the Homo Sapiens Agenda") to the movie ("Love, Simon"). The book has tiny details the movie didn't have time for. My favorite: Simon's family plays Scattergories, and the challenge is "famous trios and duos, starting with A." An obvious answer: "Adam and Eve." A better answer: "The Axis Powers." Take your fun where you can find it. "Simon" is delightful and

Like James Marshall, Arnold Lobel, Maurice Sendak, James Howe, Howard Ashman, and Tim Federle, Tomie dePaola was a gay man whose special gift was writing for kids. A popular writing prompt: Travel through the looking glass and describe the fantasy world that you see. I believe this sort of thing ran through dePaola's head when he invented his most-famous spot, his imagined version of Calabria. A friendly witch delivers potions; she'll cure your headache, remove your warts, help you to fetch a man. She has a calm and appropriate answer to everything. Her assistant, Anthony, is a mess, and it's basically an act of charity to keep him on the payroll. Meanwhile, a rival, Strega Amelia, is a kind of frenemy....like a gentler version of the Elizabeth Perkins character from "Weeds." As a teacher, I loved reading the Strega Nona books to my students, and I realized that the special chant could be paired with the tune to "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.&qu

It's not easy to win, if you're in a Disney musical. There are so many titles: "Sister Act," "Lion King," "Aladdin," "Little Mermaid," "Tarzan," "Frozen," "Newsies," "Aida," "Beauty and the Beast," "Mary Poppins." But we're talking about only three actor wins: *Inglehart ("Aladdin") *Headley ("Aida") *Tsidii Le Loka ("Lion King") I wonder if we'll get a "Mulan: Broadway" (after the new movie comes out). And I think Amy Adams could land herself a Tony, if she ever came to Broadway in an updated "Enchanted." I know Disney has a certain "we're not courting awards" reputation, but I'm still a bit surprised that certain roles (e.g. Mary Poppins, Belle, Ursula) haven't netted a Tony.....

Spoilers ahead! A young woman is entangled in an abusive relationship. She gets out; her sister drives her away. Then--thank God--the awful boyfriend commits suicide. But: Is he actually dead? The young man seems to return--from a place beyond the grave. But he is invisible. He does things--tiny things, at first--to mess with our heroine's head. A pot on the stove catches fire, mysteriously. A little girl is slapped. A strange, poisonous email appears in an inbox, and its apparent sender is pleading ignorance. Our heroine realizes that her boyfriend has faked his death and designed a special suit, which allows him to become invisible. (This is a genre picture!) The attacks become more alarming. Throats are assaulted. In the movie's already-iconic tone-shifting moment, a knife sprouts invisible legs, walks across a public table, and murders a supporting character. It's not clear to me if Elisabeth Moss and/or the writers read "No Visible Bruises,&qu

A romance--a boy and his dog. Henry gives and gives to Ribsy. A proper ride home (harder than it might seem), a collar and bowl (which means saving some cash), regular walks, the opportunity to shine in a local dog show. Ribsy, in turn, gives back: companionship, a way for Henry to get out of the awful school play, moments of comedy. No marriage is perfect, and Ribsy can irritate his owner. He won't walk slowly if Henry is carrying a full fish tank. He won't sit still during an important interview. But these two are meant to be together, and we see that in the thrilling and weirdly poignant finale. (I won't give more away, except to say that Cleary displays her gift for heartbreaking understatement when Henry becomes speechless in the final pages.) I loved this book.

You put two gay men together in a house during a pandemic, and eventually someone is going to suggest "Betty White: The Documentary." This is not a great film. A sterling work of reportage would look for gaps in the subject's story; the subject would narrate one version of events, and the skeptical director would tease out a buried version of events, and the gap between truth and the subject's self-perception would be revealing and exciting, in some way. (See the Joan Rivers documentary.) "Betty White" is just hagiography; it's a love letter to Betty White. And that, too, is fine. Here's what I especially enjoyed: *Though all four women eventually won Emmy Awards for "The Golden Girls," White won first, and she won in the show's debut year. (She was subsequently nominated in every other year, as well.) *One day, Blanche asks Rose what her initial "Blanche impression" was. "Well," says Rose, "I

OKLAHOMA! is on TV tonight. How do you win a Tony for a Rodgers and Hammerstein show? *You play Carrie in CAROUSEL. This worked for Mendez AND McDonald. *You take on the female lead in THE KING AND I. (Worked for Murphy AND O'Hara AND Gertrude Lawrence.) *You're Emile in SOUTH PACIFIC (Szot and Pinza). *You're Mary Martin in THE SOUND OF MUSIC (OR you're Mary Martin in SP). I know there are others. One thing I observe in the R&H track record: You can do well if you're the colorful supporting character (Mother Abbess, Ado Annie, Carrie) OR if you're the lead (Anna, Nellie, Maria, and so on). Enjoy tonight!

Part of loving Broadway is loving bad taste, loving tacky things. There are many intelligent and well-crafted moments in the history of the Tony Awards: Patti LuPone as Rose, in "Gypsy," Sutton Foster bringing down the Act One curtain in "Anything Goes," the little Bechdel from "Fun Home," doing "Ring of Keys." My all-time favorite Tony moment is not intelligent or tasteful. It is tacky, and it's devastating. I don't know the plot of "Side Show"; I've never seen "Side Show." Apparently, at the end of Act Two, two conjoined twins "lose their men." They feel frightened. They comfort each other: "I will never leave you." Yes, the (adult) conjoined twins somberly remind each other: "I will never leave you." This is problematic for any number of reasons, but I can't, can't, can't stop watching Emily Skinner and Alice Ripley. I admire their commitment; both s

I had a great time with Lisa Jewell's "The Family Upstairs," and it's because the characters are unusual: *A young woman who murders her partner/rapist and also has a child from (possibly) a brief period of assaults she endured in her teens. *A cult leader who steals from his followers and slowly starves them--actually starves them close to death. *A teen herbalist who (maybe) hopes to kill some neighbors with the plants he is tending to. A Jewell story moves quickly; it has secrets and lies; it's wildly implausible, and you don't care, because it is narrated with conviction. I really like this writer. I recommend "Watching You"--another Gothic Lisa Jewell tale--just as enthusiastically.

"Henry Huggins" is about curiosity and hunger. Beverly Cleary--a librarian, in her thirties--noticed that (a) most kids' books were bad and (b) boys could generally tolerate a story about a dog, if nothing else. "Henry Huggins"--Cleary's debut--concerns an ordinary boy who discovers a dog around the corner. Determined to raise this dog--inspired by the dog, in a vague way--Henry makes some arrangements. He will call his mom for permission. (This requires using a phone book as a stepping stool.) Henry will bring the dog home--in a box--on the bus. When the box breaks, Henry gets off, finds a shopping bag, and ties the dog in wrapping paper. ("This is just a parcel.") When this, too, fails, Henry rides home in a police car. But: mission accomplished. The dog is now a pet. There isn't anything especially remarkable about Henry, but you root for him; he has goals, and it's fun to watch a scrappy kid with goals. Exploring a fish

Marc and I were led by the NY Times to "I See You," now streaming on Amazon Prime. It's a horror film starring Oscar winner Helen Hunt. (Who could resist?) Hunt seems to be in an uneasy domestic situation; she has cheated; her son and spouse are unforgiving. Then, apparently-supernatural things start happening. A cartload of silverware disappears. A mysterious "ghost girl" pops up. Pottery falls from the sky. The Second and Third Acts aren't what you expect--and you might feel genuinely frightened by the end. (I had a hard time taking my baby up to his crib, afterward, in the dark.) Not a seamless movie -- but.... it's ambitious, surprising, and fun. If you like when writers tinker with the Hollywood "formula," and you like biting your nails..... this is for you!

One friend of a friend said: "Smile, when you're out on your walks. Social distancing doesn't mean you need to frown. In fact, we need to see smiles more than ever." Sometimes, the smile is reciprocated, and sometimes it isn't; sometimes, I'm met with strange coldness. But then I just think of Teri Hatcher on the set of "Desperate Housewives." Felicity Huffman was relentlessly kind to Hatcher, though Hatcher was--famously--a monster. Huffman said, "Just because she acts that way, it doesn't follow that I can't be nice!" One set of neighbors is *too* friendly. The elderly lady, carrying wine-in-a-thermos, sticks her face inside my infant's invisible "distance bubble." "That smile!" she says, breathing her fumes all over my baby. "That witty bitty face!!" I laugh uncomfortably, and later she circles back to apologize. "I just couldn't resist! I know there's this coronavirus..

A show that wins Tony Awards for *two* actors is nothing to sneeze at. We're talking about the first "Sound of Music" (Mary Martin and the lady who played the head nun). And "Fiddler" (Mostel and the first Golde). Also: "Guys and Dolls." "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum." "Les Miserables" (possibly not the pair of actors you're thinking of). "The King and I." "How to Succeed in Business...." "Pippin." "Dear Evan Hansen." "You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown." "The Life." "Thoroughly Modern Millie." "Hello Dolly." "Chicago." "Billy Elliot." "Jersey Boys." "Grey Gardens." "Contact." "On the Twentieth Century." "Jelly's Last Jam." "Hedwig." More to follow.... P.S. "Hairspray" did that rare thing: "Hairspray" actually won in t

Babar announces to Cornelius that a baby will be arriving soon; Cornelius is to appear in public with his spectacles and tri-corner hat, and alert the masses. While Babar waits, he finds he can't read a book calmly, so he goes on a bicycle ride. A canon shot is meant to announce the arrival of the baby, but what can three canon shots mean? (War? No. The arrival of triplets.) Back with his family, Babar makes some observations. Arthur and Zephir have arrived to pay their respects. The nurse can't find three carriages, so she builds one from a basket, a napkin, and an umbrella. (This makes me think of Babar in Volume One, inventing a digging tool by affixing his trunk to a little shell.) It's a treat to read Babar in distressing times. The attention to detail is the thing that moves me. For example, it's Celeste, the wise spouse, who knows Babar won't get any reading done as he anxiously waits. And, also, de Brunhoff makes a point of noting that the elepha

In anticipation of the Tony Awards (who knows about this year?)....and in honor of Andrew Lloyd Webber's b-day (shared with Sondheim's).....a moment of reflection on ALW actor Tonys: *Bernadette Peters, "Song and Dance" *Mandy Patinkin, "Evita" *Patti LuPone, "Evita" *George Hearn, "Sunset Boulevard" *Glenn Close, "Sunset Boulevard" *Betty Buckley, "Cats" *Judy Kaye, "Phantom of the Opera" *Michael Crawford, "Phantom of the Opera" It's striking to me that Bob Gunton won a Drama Desk Award for "Evita," and not a Tony. Juan Peron is not a flashy role, so hats off to Gunton. And hats off to Sir Andrew. More soon....

James Marshall--great fan of dramatic irony--likes when we can chuckle at Martha. We laugh when she believes her silly photo is a work of art. We laugh when she decides this same photo would make a wonderful and very serious gift for a friend. I'm not sure if Marshall discussed dramatic irony with his collaborator, Harry Allard. But the two men built a series--"The Stupids"--on this one concept. In "The Stupids Die," we the readers are much wiser than the Stupids. That family! They eagerly await "something stupid happening today." They "mow the carpet." Mrs. Stupid believes that "a loud dress" is literally "a loud dress," so she tapes some clucking chickens to her underwear. ("I hope it's not *too* loud.") When the son, Buster, eats with his toes, this is applauded as a major step forward. A book needs a plot, so, towards the end, Allard and Marshall plunge their characters into crisis. All t

My husband and I watched the Bernadette version of "Into the Woods" to celebrate, of course. (It's streaming free on Amazon Prime.) In case you had forgotten, Act Two of "Into the Woods" concerns a sort of plague. People are dying, almost at random. The government official--Prince Charming--is a shallow narcissist, incapable of telling the truth or feeling concern for others. ("I was raised to be charming, not sincere.") Very strange to watch Act Two in this particular era..... Anyway, I loved the show and especially Bernadette and Ms. Gleason, and I was happy to spend time with Sondheim's words. ("It's your father's fault that the place got cursed and the curse got placed in the first place....") Join me in saying hats off to Steve!

The 104th birthday of Beverly Cleary is approaching. On her 100th, she faced a great deal of media attention; she was lucid and calm, and revealed that her plans for the day involved having a slice of carrot cake. The Times recently asked novelists to name their favorite literary "comfort food," in these trying times, and someone said "Fingersmith," and someone said the poetry of Jane Kenyon, and Ann Patchett used the opportunity to try to promote a book that was just released (which seems a bit manipulative, and it's also something Patchett the bookseller does too frequently). It seems to me that the best literary choice right now is the corpus of Beverly Cleary. So I've been reading "Beezus and Ramona." If it's not Ramona's first appearance (I'm unsure, and she may have popped up in a Henry Huggins tale earlier), it's surely Ramona's first starring role. The novel concerns Beezus and her tumultuous, confusing relatio

Another thing I loved in Sieruta's "Wild Things": the discussion of "roads not taken." Sometimes critics focus just on the things that get published, but it's interesting to consider what gets discarded. When a Sendak book with nudity came out, certain librarians would take white-out and paint a diaper onto the nude child in question. And editors didn't want a reference to a "hot" supper at the end of "Where the Wild Things...." Editors wanted the supper to be "warm," because "hot" might suggest that the mother was endangering her child. (Crazy!) A vindictive illustrator--annoyed that Kirkus had panned one of her books--drew a special tombstone in a later book: "Here Lies Virginia Kirkus, Nasty Soul." (When this was "caught," the tombstone suddenly became blank, and it remains blank to this day.) Fascinating--to me--and, in case I haven't been clear, I really recommend Sieruta'

Having found fertile land, Babar builds Celesteville, a well-organized society with a Palace of Work and a Palace of Pleasure. Everyone has a job; for example, Hatchibombotar waters the streets with his motor watercart. Little Zephir and Arthur go to school--and Arthur, being a child, announces that three times three is eight. Zephir agrees. Having been corrected, Zephir remarks on the number nine: "It's like CAT-O-NINE TAILS!" Because this *is* what a little boy would think of. In the final pages, Jean de Brunhoff seems to recall that he needs a problem or conflict, so he has Zephir touch a "strange-looking stick." The stick is in fact a snake, and it bites Babar's friend, "the old lady." Meanwhile, Cornelius, an elderly elephant, falls into unconsciousness when his house catches fire. Jean the moralist focuses on Babar. In a fitful sleep, Babar finds himself caught up in a dream. Misfortune, Disease, Stupidity--all scary alligators--

One more part of "Wild Things" I loved: the Harry Potter discussion. (Because who doesn't love thinking about Harry Potter?) Sieruta et al. point out: Harry Potter changed the shape of the NY Times. "Sorcerer's Stone" remained the number-one bestseller for ages. Finally, the NYT created a separate "children's fiction" list, so an "adult" book had a shot at topping the Times list (or at least *one* Times list) yet again. The success of Harry Potter taught writers that kids would read kids' books, AND ALSO *adults* would read kids' books. Two markets, one book. So Grisham began writing "for kids." And James Patterson started, as well. (I wonder if Maile Meloy had the "two markets" thought when she started her "Apprentice/Apothecary" series.) J.K. Rowling doesn't live in the United States--so my understanding is that she wouldn't ever be up for a Newbery. (Correct me if I'm wrong.)

A hero's journey: anytime a plucky warrior is removed from an Ordinary World and plunged into the Enchanted World. The Enchanted World doesn't need to have castles and dragons; in "The Good Wife," the Enchanted World is the terrain of Hillary Clinton (or Silda Spitzer). After Alicia Florrick discovers--via CNN--that her husband has been having numerous affairs (and possibly with some illegal twists), she, Alicia, must go back to work. It's not easy to be a woman at a law firm. You have the young male associate you're competing against; Christine Baranski favors the young guy, unfairly. You have secretarial candidates who blatantly forget there is anyone in the interview room who isn't a man. You have the voice of the mother-in-law on the phone, asking when you'll be back home. At the same time, Alicia contends with case-of-the-week dramas. To get an innocent young man detached from a spurious murder charge, Alicia must throw her estranged

I love reading about prizes, so a part of "Wild Things" that really stuck with me was the Newbery trivia. "Charlotte's Web"--believed to be a perfect novel--lost the prize. It lost to a particularly weak book. (The speculation is that one very powerful critic who disliked White's writing made sure that White lost.) With White's third canonical novel, "The Trumpet of the Swan," Newbery buzz resumed. But White lost--this time to "The Summer of the Swans." (White: "If only I'd changed ONE WORD in my title!") Some people have taken the Newbery prize-givers to task for deliberately overlooking works that seem "too popular." (R.L. Stine and Judy Blume are both writers without a Newbery Medal.) I'm hooked on this sort of trivia, and I'm happy--in stressful times--to note that someone wrote at length about this terrain.

Chloe Fineman's "Busy Philipps" has some obvious pleasures; as with "Drew Barrymore" and "Elizabeth Holmes," this is a sharp portrait of an entitled white lady being oblivious. The short film is a story and also a persuasive essay. The story: Busy has had A DAY. She has a cold; she recently enjoyed chips and guac; she had her hair colored. There's never a suggestion that this story might be less-than-enchanting. In fact, Busy is so confident in her intoxicating narrative gifts, she ends with an idea: "I was thinking, I SHOULD HOST THE OSCARS. My thinking I can't host the Oscars is just a bit of internalized misogyny...." I'm delighted by all of this, but I'm especially thrilled by the mysterious, crazy laugh that follows the chips-and-guac line. Why is Busy suddenly lost in hysteria? And why doesn't she bother to explain? That insane laugh is a sign of genius. It's what separates Chloe Fineman from the rest of

It's St. Patrick's Day, and so let's celebrate.... *Saoirse Ronan. Already an icon, by way of "Brooklyn," "Lady Bird," and "Little Women." *Novelist Colm Toibin. (see also: Saoirse Ronan.) *Novelist Sally Rooney. *Booker winner Anne Enright. *Memoir superstar and Pulitzer winner Frank McCourt. (People said the first book wasn't strictly true, but still, it made a splash.) There's also Stephen Rea, maybe the one and only Oscar-nominated actor who was once married to a terrorist. (That story can be found in "Say Nothing.") I hope one day to see this strange and troubled country. Happy St. P Day to you!

A while ago, a friend recommended "Wild Things," by Sieruta et al. (Not to be confused with "Wild Things," by Bruce Handy, also great.) In these COVID days, I have great swaths of time to make my way through Sieruta's chatty and fun history of children's lit. Sieruta picks the things you really want to hear about: censorship, LGBT issues, death in picture books, depictions of sex. Of course there's a long section on gay contributions to children's lit, and this taught me a fair amount. For example: Not only were Lobel and Marshall on good terms, but Marshall also gave the eulogy at Lobel's funeral. Marshall alluded to the serious critical studies that would surely pop up around Lobel's work; as of now, there is only one such study. Marshall could be just as naughty as George and Martha; once, at a dinner, he spotted his nemesis, noted she had slipped her feet out of diamond-encrusted heels, then somehow made off with one of the h

It's never too early to anticipate the Tony Awards, with Tony trivia. God knows if the awards will happen this year. In any case, here's what interests me: *Angela Lansbury has been nominated for Best Lead Actress in a Musical four times. And--each of those four nights--Lansbury has walked away the winner. Not even Audra McDonald can say this. McDonald has more Tony wins--sure--but they aren't all in that one category. (Also, Lansbury has a straight-play win for "Blithe Spirit.") *Sometimes, a musical wins three out of the four acting categories. This is a special occasion. It happened for the LuPone revival of "Gypsy"; it happened for "Hamilton" and "The Producers" and the original "Miss Saigon." It happened for the 1998 revival of "Cabaret." And "Kiss of the Spider-Woman." And the original "Mame." And "The Music Man." I'll take your input for other cases where this has o

My old teacher, Amy Bloom, called attention to a part of a poem: All who come All who come into the world All who come into the world are sent. Open your curtain of spirit. This is an excerpt from "The Ghost of Heaven" by Carolyn Forche. The poet makes an observation. If you're here on Earth, then it's likely someone sent you. And the purpose for sending you must relate to your spirit. So go ahead and reveal yourself to the world. What I especially like is the use of line breaks. There is a difference between a simple declaration--"All who come into the world are sent"--and the thing you get in Forche's work. By doling out new words slowly, Forche makes sure that the final word, "sent," has special emphasis. It's like the unmasking of the murderer at the end of a mystery play. Content dictates form. Being "sent" is a special thing; the idea requires an idiosyncratic kind of spacing, an idiosyncratic use

There is some interesting Hilary Mantel backlash right now. Mantel famously wrote "Wolf Hall" and "Bring Up the Bodies"--and won two Booker Prizes--and all the world has waited anxiously for "The Mirror and the Light." Some critics love "The Mirror and the Light," and a few do not. The NY Times said it was painfully slow. In the New Yorker, merry iconoclast Daniel Mendelsohn actually said, "Mantel reported all she needed to get out in the first two volumes." (Yikes!) Even some of the warm reviews teasingly mention moments of boredom--and my heart stops when I see these paragraphs. (I borrowed the book and skipped right to the end, which people label "BEST PART." Spoiler: As Cromwell marches to his death, he thinks, Others have managed, and I can, too. In his very final moment, he is searching for any available light. I liked that.) In happier times, Mantel said, "I state what the character SAID, and I

Today, the Times asked several people to name a favorite Sondheim song. This seems like an impossible task, but I'm choosing "Marry Me a Little." Specifically, Raul Esparza's version. (I feel some concern for Katrina Lenk, who has to follow in Esparza's footsteps.) "Marry Me a Little" was cut from "Company," but people realized the move was foolish, and so "Marry Me" was reintroduced to the show. It's a chance for Bobby--the neurotic, single protagonist--to imagine being "partnered." It's a song where Bobby negotiates with an imaginary wife. The two will be a pair, but without the messiness of commitment; maybe things won't always be thrilling, but also there won't be pain. ("A person like Bobby doesn't have the good things....but he doesn't have the bad things....but he doesn't have the good things....") Bobby's chronic ambivalence leads to memorable announcements: "We&

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/03/12/theater/stephen-sondheim-playwright.html I've been thinking about "Company" all week--postponed, now, because of coronavirus. A few discoveries: *Larry Kert won a Tony nomination for Bobby even though he didn't originate the role. (Dean Jones did the first few shows, then quickly dropped out.) To grant a nomination to a replacement cast member is strange; I'm not sure it has happened at other times. *Sondheim said that Broadway audiences wanted escapism, and he was giving audiences the precise opposite of what they wanted. "Company" was a ticket-buyer's contemporary life--thrown back in that ticket-buyer's face. A little aggressive, but also inspiring. Your contemporary life is worthy of dramatization! (Even the subtext has subtext!) *Who would think to make an opening number out of these apparently banal phrases? "Drop by any time...." "Bobby, we've been trying to call you...

Ivanka, part II: Chloe Fineman, as Ivanka Trump, wants to talk to us. Ivanka has a special connection to Donald. "Well, you know," she says, her eyes sliding away from the camera...."He is my father." Her throat tightens. "I am his daughter. When I say FATHER...." and Ivanka's small twitchy smile appears...."He says DAUGHTER...." This strange story sends Ivanka into a brief moment of wordless despair. She snaps back to it; she addresses the camera. "Remind me, what was the question?" A short masterpiece: https://www.instagram.com/p/BXWTnGCDhL2/?hl=en

I'm happy (embarrassed?) to say that I've now covered thirty-four of thirty-five George and Martha stories in detail. (Maurice Sendak says, in his James Marshall essay, "We don't really need to get into the plots." But I reject that. I've really enjoyed "getting into" the plots.) The last thing to look at: "The Picnic." Martha wants the picnic; George wants to sleep. Martha attempts a wake-up via sax-playing, via toe-tickling. Finally, she propels George to the picnic, using roller-skates, so that George does not have to leave his bed. Situational irony: The teacher fails her own test. At the actual picnic, Martha now is exhausted. George, by contrast, has a great time. A few stray thoughts: There are Lobel parallels here. In one Frog and Toad story, Frog wants Toad to get up and greet the springtime, and Toad won't get out of bed. In another, Toad wants a story while he is sick, and the act of telling the story actu

Apparently, Ivanka doesn't know much about Jewish traditions (not hard to believe), and this is the source of Chloe Fineman's Ivanka parody. Trying to prove that she is educated about the Jewish faith, Ivanka gives a speech about Hanukkah. She lights the menorah and invents her own chant: "Barack....Obama.....Illinois.....a shirt....on his anus...." What I really love is Ivanka's crazed self-confidence and the patronizing quality of her tone. The way she stumbles on the word "holiday"--as if she hasn't quite accepted that Hanukkah is a holiday--makes me giggle every time. Enjoy! https://www.instagram.com/p/BrBZf_hn2Ei/?hl=en

In the most recent "Curb Your Enthusiasm," Larry has a problem. His ex-wife's sister wants to sell her house. But Larry is the one who purchased the house for the sister in the first place. A normal person might say, "There is a tremendous income gap here, and I'm happy for my struggling acquaintance to make some cash on the house sale." But Larry--being Larry--wants the money. And he isn't shy to talk about that want. He goes to confront his acquaintance--Becky--and she sobs and compels him to change her mind. Then, possibly as a "thank you," she sleeps with him. This leads to furor; the ex-wife, Cheryl, can't believe what Larry has done. Meanwhile, Larry asks not to have a dinner with a certain friend's significant other--and the way this is accomplished is through a fake story. Larry "can't have dinner with semi-strangers" because of a "bleeding rectum." The discomfort, the blood: It's

I don't really know anything about Bella Hadid; I assume she is the sister of model Gigi, who was (or is?) a friend of Taylor Swift. And yet, even in my ignorance, I can still recommend the video below. It's my hero, Chloe Fineman, becoming Bella Hadid. The (ostensible) goal: to educate you with regard to sneaker purchases. But Fineman takes this in her own direction. The spot becomes an opportunity to twerk, show off "hoochie shorts," stare ahead in a glazed way, and make bizarre pronouncements....."If homeboy come by wearing these? .....He can GET IT....." As usual, in Fineman World, I don't really know what I'm watching, but I'm captivated. I'm eager to have this character with me, in my mind, for the rest of my life. https://www.instagram.com/p/BhMm6agDkL-/?hl=en

I have no idea whether Erik Larson was thinking about Trump when he set out to write about Hitler. (Something tells me he was thinking about Trump.) One of the most satisfying kinds of stories is: good fights against evil. Evil wears a mask, for a bit. Good sniffs out clues. Villains are identified; the problem is contained; order is restored. Erik Larson made his name with "The Devil in the White City," about a serial killer in Chicago. The new book, "The Splendid and the Vile," gives us a different kind of killer (again, it's Hitler), and the "detective" is unusually charismatic. The detective is Winston Churchill--who writes and speaks as well as a gifted novelist, has a talent for making grim realities seem inspiring, and refuses (refuses, refuses) to give up. Larson's book plunges you into Churchill's semi-Victorian world, in which his wife, Clementine, gives him moral scoldings via handwritten letter. (This made me think of Ab

A man hires a young assistant who has a habit of dressing in a provocative way. The man is married; he feels drawn to the assistant. On a rainy night, he drives the assistant home, walks her to her door, and offers a consoling hug. The assistant goes for a kiss. The man pulls away; he is fully innocent, right? Or maybe not? A child with Asperger's wants to sit with his cousin. The two get along; the seating arrangement really works for both kids. Except that the rigidity of the arrangement becomes problematic. How do you explain to the child with Asperger's that his friend has a lower "rigidity-tolerance"? Do you use the word "Asperger's"? What should a child know--and not know--about himself? "Parenthood" has reasonably low stakes, by TV standards. No one is going to blow up the White House. No one is a spy; no one is mole. And yet the situations are compelling. You almost feel that you're watching a thriller. This is because the sce

Some thoughts on "Making It Big," Isenberg's "diary" on the doomed BIG adaptation that lived very briefly on-stage: Why would you not want to adapt the movie BIG for Broadway? For a few reasons.  If you don't have Tom Hanks, you are lacking a major resource.  Also, the story involves a passive hero--a guy who actually wants very little and mostly just reacts--and a musical really needs a hungry protagonist. ("And so I'll stand there with the Wizard...." "I look once more just around the riverbend...." "I want much more than this provincial life....")  Finally, you might want to stay away from the movie-as-material because certain tween "sex elements" are icky, and they become especially icky when they are shown onstage. No matter. A new version of BIG chugs toward Broadway. As it approaches, RENT happens. Savion Glover (BRING IN DA NOISE) happens. The star of BIG injures himself. The Tony Awar

I'd argue that Arnold Lobel's story "Alone" had a major impact on James Marshall. "Alone" has Frog going off to contemplate his own great happiness. Toad--the worrier--thinks something is wrong. Toad's anxieties grow, disaster ensues, and Frog repairs all damage by giving a speech about his occasional wish for solitude, and about how being alone is not the same as being angry. This story seems to have led to Marshall's "The Misunderstanding," and I'd say it also led to "The Secret Club."  In "The Secret Club," Martha spots George sneaking off. "Where to?" she asks, and George, unwisely, states that he is headed for his secret club. Martha doesn't hear every word in that sentence. "I'll join." And yet: "You can't, it's a SECRET club." And yet: "George, you can let ME join you...." This goes on and on, until Martha forces her way in. George is seated

You should also know that Chloe Fineman nails her "Chalamet" impression. Chalamet is torn between boyhood and adulthood. He wants to let us know he is grown up. He is "a man actor," as he himself says. But boyhood bursts out. TC can't stop laughing at non-funny things. His laugh is a full-body experience, like something a toddler would pull out. "Nah, naw, naw," he says, in that special pre-verbal thing a tween sometimes cooks up. If Fineman isn't getting her Oscar for "Holmes," then let's give her the Oscar for "Chalamet": https://www.instagram.com/p/BucKCTqnsEa/?hl=en Agreed? P.S. I'm away in Florida for the rest of the week! I'm not sure when I'll write. My family is back in New Jersey on Monday, March 9. Have a good week!

Maybe my favorite from Chloe Fineman's gallery of lunatics is Elizabeth Holmes. Ms. Holmes invented the "nanotainer," the thing meant to revolutionize medical care, then drove her own business into the ground and set herself up for (maybe) years and years in prison. Meet Ms. Holmes: https://www.instagram.com/p/BvPtEAoHigS/?hl=en She's wearing her Steve Jobs uniform (so much easier than having to make sartorial choices in the morning! Who has time, who among the busy geniuses?) Ms. Holmes is speaking in her creepy baritone, and her non-blinking eyes are on display. "Anytime you create something new," Holmes says, "there should be questions. What higher purpose is there than changing the world?" She allows silence to grow, so we can dwell in this place of profundity. Next, Holmes shows us a DayQuil capsule. "This is my nanotainer," she explains. "I invented it when I was fourteen years old, working with the Bunsen burner in m

Babar makes a move that is surprising and inevitable: He has his elephants paint large monster eyes on their rumps, to frighten a hostile group of rhinos. (This makes me think of the Trojan horse--disguise!--and of the false eyes on certain butterflies.) Jean de Brunhoff never points out how absurd the painted eyes-on-butts are. He just narrates the fight, soberly. Also, I'm obsessed with Zephir the baby monkey, who can't bide his time; he must fill the hours by chasing a moth. (He is like the child version of Babar, who kept himself busy by digging in sand with his shell-wielding trunk.) These are the things that interest me--more than the discussion of whether Babar is secretly a spokesman for imperialism or colonialism. Little bits of character revealed through action: intelligence shown through the Trojan-horse move, curiosity shown through the moth scene. These details remind me of Howard Ashman (a mermaid forgets the word for "feet"), and of James Marsha

Chloe Fineman has a special interest in "Big Little Lies"; she has done the Nicole Kidman character (the heart of the show), Laura Dern's "Renata," and also Reese Witherspoon. (Fineman seems not to have done Meryl's character, but Fineman has certainly done another version of Meryl, the one you see in "Little Women.") Fineman invents a scenario for Reese that doesn't actually happen in the show, as far as I recall. Dern--"Renata"--has transgressed. She has brought brownie bites to a school bake sale. "Look at your list," says Reese, enraged. "You brought brownie bites. You were meant to bring lemon bars. Unh-unh. Nuh-unh. Look at the list. What do you think you're doing? Look at the list." This confrontation inspires Reese; she is galvanized, in just the way you might feel pleasantly enraged when you think about Susan Collins. "What will it be next week?" she asks. "A funnel cake? Are you p