Liars and Saints

 ] I was struck by two artists who responded to Uvalde. One showed several outlines of bodies in chalk, on a background that evokes thoughts of a chalkboard. This drives home the point that an especially creative place, a place of discovery, has been destroyed.  The second artist showed Ted Cruz praying, with blood all over his hands. This is a visual expression of the ugliness and hypocrisy we spot in Ted Cruz's Tweets ("thoughts and prayers ....") The art captures the thing we're all thinking, the thing we can't adequately describe with words. Here are the images (attached).

  Surely, the worst series on TV right now is "Keeper of the Ashes," starring Kristin Chenoweth. An amazing display of tastelessness and narcissism, "Keeper of the Ashes" should never have made it past the drafting stage. It's the true story of a brutal killing in Oklahoma; back in the seventies, someone murdered three sleeping Girl Scouts at a rural camp. Kristin Chenoweth had nothing to do with this story--truly, nothing--but since, at one point, her family *considered* sending her to the camp, she believes that the tale of the murders is her tale to tell. Chenoweth doesn't do any investigative work; she just pops up every thirty minutes to say, "It was that weekend when I learned the meaning of evil...." Or: "The people of Oklahoma are like red clay soil. We all just stick together." Or: "I went to the same school as one of the three victims. I didn't know her, but I might have said hello in the hallway. I might have been, lik

 Just tipping a hat to Kate McKinnon, who is leaving SNL. One of my favorite McKinnon works is a spoof of the Todd Haynes film "Carol." Carol has brought her new friend, Therese, to lunch. "Tell me about your last name," says Carol, and Therese says, "It's Czech." This excites Carol: "Czech please! Czech right here! I'll take the Czech. I'm coming down with  Therese Syndrome..... "  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_QljnNIBtaI I also like McKinnon as Ingrid Bergman at the end of "Casablanca." Ingrid doesn't know what to say to her lover, as she leaves him to his bloody and maybe fatal near-future, so Ingrid just says, "Bye-eeeeee!"  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQKVIJnfiNM Finally, in this house, we adore McKinnon as Elsa in the "cut scenes" from "Frozen II." Elsa has a secret, and she isn't sure if she can continue to bury the truth. "This forest is so disorienting," she say

  The secret superpower of SVU is its characters. We saw this once again in "Confess Your Sins to Be Free." A little boy sees his father kill his mother, conceives a deep hatred for both parents, then grows up to be a rapist/priest. Another priest--"bound by the rules of the confessional"--crazily tries to "protect" the rapist from justice while also interrupting any new rape attempts. An angry husband blames his wife for having been assaulted. (Fin says, "She knew you'd behave this way, the shouting, the tantrum. Why don't you surprise her by being an adult?") The character who haunts me is Aidan Quinn, who seems to want to make restitution, as part of a Twelve-Step Program. But, like Pete Davidson or Amy Schumer, Quinn becomes intoxicated by his own self-deprecation: He enjoys making people laugh in AA meetings. When the law comes after him, we learn whether he is actually, sincerely interested in atoning for how he has behaved. The wri

 I'm giving five stars to "Love Marriage," by Monica Ali. My sense is that Ali spends a good deal of time reading Tolstoy; like Tolstoy, she isn't afraid to exaggerate a character here and there. Like Tolstoy, she takes on the big subjects: love, death, sex, marriage, social change. "Love Marriage" concerns Yasmin, who is training to be a doctor in London. Yasmin's parents emigrated from India; it's Yasmin's understanding that Mom and Dad had a "love marriage," and that Mom accepted Dad even though Dad came from the world of the untouchables. (The truth is a bit more complicated.) Yasmin contends with nuttiness in the workplace--and the work scenes are among the strongest. (Who doesn't know what it's like to find the office unbearable?) A white woman looks at Yasmin and requests an "English doctor." Yasmin says, "I'm English. I was born in London." The woman becomes upset and says: "You seem to be ac

 Despite continued awfulness in America, we're allowed to acknowledge a positive story: Angela Lansbury will be winning an honorary Tony Award. It's amazing to me that Lansbury is alive and well, and that she had a major role in "Gaslight." I know the Tony doesn't acknowledge "Gaslight"--but, still! Lansbury made a big entrance in that movie; she was ferocious. In her second act--her second act!--Lansbury wandered over to Broadway and became a muse for Jerry Herman and Stephen Sondheim. She is the only person in history to have attained two "Herman" Tony Awards ("Mame," "Dear World") PLUS two Sondheim Tony Awards ("Gypsy," "Sweeney Todd"). Though Ethel Merman couldn't secure a Tony for the first version of "Gypsy," Lansbury completed the task in the revival. In a third act, Lansbury inspired Howard Ashman, and she did iconic work in "Beauty and the Beast." Unbelievable. Marc asked

 To celebrate forty years of "Little Shop," NPR has released a Tiny Desk Alan Menken concert, and it's worth seeing. You're reminded of the unforgettable Menken/Ashman characters: the sadistic Elvis dentist, the scheming alien cabbage plant, the struggling heart-of-gold heroine. Menken has excellent "backstage" stories: He used laughing gas as a weapon because his own father had devoted his life to the study of laughing gas, he chose a small cast because Ashman insisted (the previous large-cast effort had been a flop), he recognized Audrey's "I Want" song as a major piece of writing (and he later thought of the Little Mermaid's "I Want" song as a piece *very similar* to "Somewhere That's Green," a piece called "Somewhere That's Wet"). The clip is fun because of Christian Borle, but also because of Menken, who is a living legend and a walking history book. Marc and I have watched twice. https://www.youtu

  I'm ready for retirement. I know this because I spent this weekend's date night at a concert of elderly white men. The men formed the Maplewood Glee Club, and they performed the hits of the Beatles and the Beach Boys. In one risqué interlude, they tried out a Dylan ballad. "You're on a date?" said my friend, who was sitting nearby. "When my husband and I found sitters, in the early days, we would just run out the clock at Target. If dinner finished early, you'd wander around Target, because you wouldn't want to return to the babies before you had to." This is the greatest idea I've heard in a long while. A Target trip sounds like a week in Turks and Caicos. "Well," I said, shifting subjects, "did you see the new Helen Mirren film? She was with Jim Broadbent. They're so wonderful...." Later, my husband and I found updates on our newest back-road scandal: Certain parties feel that residents are allowing poison-ivy bush

 My son has entered his "cause-and-effect" stage. Every cup must be tipped over; it's a delight to see the coffee spill to the ground, the seltzer, the prune juice. Josh takes full Morton salt cylinders and lets the salt rain down; I find little white piles in the kitchen and in the dining room. Another project is to extract and destroy items from my office: the train pass, the subway pass, the bookmark. Don't get me started on light switches. We're reading: *"Bunny Cakes," Rosemary Wells. Masterpiece, start to finish. *"George and Martha: The Secret Club." Great writing becomes sublime when we spot George's tricorn hat.... *"Cinderella's Rat," by Susan Meddaugh. We haven't started; it's on hold at the library. The title seems perfect -- and consider that it's an account of the Royal Ball from the perspective of a rat/coachman. I just have a sense that this is a winner. Happy weekend.

 "The Staircase"--a documentary--is surely one of my favorite ten (fifteen?)-hour films. It's about Michael Peterson, who maybe killed his wife down South. Michael called the cops to say he'd found his wife at the bottom of a staircase. But there were weird lacerations on the head of the corpse: If just a fall occurred, why would there be lacerations? Had Peterson murdered his wife? Had Peterson had a physical fight that grew in intensity, and led to manslaughter (semi-accidental death)? Some said the lacerations came from a blow poke--but then the blow poke was discovered, and it didn't have any traces of blood. Some say the lacerations came from an owl attack. But how often do owls attack humans? The story only grows weirder. Years before (maybe) killing his wife, Peterson (maybe) killed a family friend, and used the same staircase plot! Also, someone in the prosecution was pretty much transparently homophobic. (Parker Posey was born to utter the line: "Can

  Today, despite the awfulness in America, we celebrate Emile Ardolino, an out gay director who made "Dirty Dancing" and "Sister Act." Ardolino grew up in Queens; he wanted to be an actor (because....of course). But Ardolino made his way to a spot behind the camera, and he began filming profiles of choreographers. Three of the profiles won Emmy Awards; seventeen were nominated. Ardolino jumped to films. "Dirty Dancing" is essentially a musical; it gave us "Hungry Eyes," "She's Like the Wind," and "I've Had the Time of My Life." The last of the three actually won the Academy Award for Best Song. You play it, and I get full-body chills. A few years later, Ardolino outdid himself with "Sister Act." For me, in childhood, this was like another "Howard Ashman moment": This was like someone was speaking to me directly through the camera. What is my ideal movie? It's Oscar winner Whoopi Goldberg doing b

 People here reveal themselves through their dogs. I do this all the time. When I meet someone, I say, "Salvy is friendly, but just a little jumpy." And I'm so obviously talking about myself.  I have some social anxiety; pardon the weird, nervous laugh. Down the road, a family is at war with several neighbors. The family in question wants a wall along the road -- and costs should be shared within the community. Others are resisting. When I see the family in question, there is new wariness, and the wariness gets foisted on the dog: "Our Shep is asking for a perimeter-row of small trees. He'll still see the neighbors, obviously, through the trees, but the contact will be a bit less intense...." A woman moves into the abandoned house next-door and presents her dog, Anna, to me. "Anna can be challenging....She isn't sure if she will like it here...." Finally, my husband exists in a world of sunshine and rainbows; his world is like the inner landsca

 Jason Adam Katzenstein borrows from the greats. He empathizes with Kafka's Gregor Samsa, and he imagines a "Metamorphosis" sequel: "At 3:43 PM, Gregor awoke from a nap, feeling even more tired and hungry in this frustrating hour between lunch and dinner...." JAK also rewrites the Bible: "On the seventh day, God tried to relax, but He struggled with the work/life balance, so he distractedly watched  30 Rock  while keeping open a Google file called  New EARTH Ideas ....." Finally, JAK empathizes with the Sirens, from "The Odyssey": "Every gig now is about luring sailors to their death. Remember when it used to be about the music?" What a gift -- and this guy is still fairly young. I hope that he'll write a new book.

 Sondheim found his voice with "Gypsy," but then he made additional great early strides with "Company," a celebration of ambivalence: You're always sorry; you're always grateful. You hold her thinking, I'm not alone. You're still alone. Again and again, Sondheim found new ways to describe the Divided Self: "Marry me--a little! Love me--just enough!" "Wait for me. Hurry. Wait for me. Hurry....." Years later, in a last major two-act musical ("Into the Woods"), we find Sondheim still reflecting on inner turmoil: You think of all of the things you've seen-- And you wish that you could live in-between. And you're back again, only different than before. Sondheim asks why God seems to favor rigidity: Must it all be either less OR more-- Either plain OR grand? Is it always OR? Is it never AND....? And Cinderella has a choice between hell and heaven, but she actually thinks *both* options are problematic: Which do you pic

  Most stories follow this prompt: "A stranger comes to town."  Mean Girls  is an iconic example: Having been homeschooled by brilliant parents in Africa, young Cady finds herself dumped in an Evanston calculus class. (Mom has accepted a job at Northwestern.) Cady is poised and sensible, and the rituals of public school are baffling to her. The writer, Tina Fey, has vivid memories of the absurdity, the petty tyranny, of a classroom. When Cady stands to use the bathroom, the teacher doesn't allow this. But, also, the teacher doesn't just say: "Later." The teacher mentions a strange totem, a "hall pass," and, innocently, Cady requests the pass. It's only then that the teacher says: "Never! Back to your seat!!!!" Who hasn't lived through this moment? Cady lusts for power--though she may not actually realize this--so she finds herself in competition with the Queen Bee, Regina George. What unfolds is like a spy movie; it's more Hit

 There's a national baby-formula shortage. NPR tells me I should not water down my extant formula, should not devise a formula of my own (perhaps with witch hazel! or dandelions!) .....NPR says I should not jump from brand to brand (or not without careful research). I call the front desk at my child's pediatrics office. All this is above the secretary's pay grade. The secretary and I dance, awkwardly, on the phone. "Well, I'm not sure what you want the doctor to do," says the secretary. "She is not, like, in charge of national formula-making plants." I say, "Thank you. Thanks very much." And the call ends. Later, my husband says, "It's like everything is falling apart. Like, the entire world!" And this is true. The country is maybe on the verge of a civil war, over abortion rights? And there are grim murmurings about marriage equality. Also, giant spiders are expected to drop from the sky. All along the East Coast. They will b

  Sondheim ended "Into the Woods" with two big emotional "Hammerstein-adjacent" numbers: "No One Is Alone" and "Children Will Listen." But, as a critic correctly noted, the Baker's meltdown ("No More") is an *additional* part of this ravishing KO in the second act. I'm also excited to see Sondheim's two "seduction" numbers, "Hello, Little Girl" and "Any Moment." These are variations on a theme, and Sondheim underlines his point by having one actor play both the Wolf and Cinderella's Prince. (It's Gavin Creel this weekend--a worthy castmate for Heather Headley!) Two young people--Little Red and the Baker's Wife--are maybe a little too happy to stray from their own understanding of what is right. We first see Little Red stealing loaves of bread from a friendly Baker. We also see the Baker's Wife stealing beans, and shrugging: "If the end is right....it justifies the beans!&quo

  What a profound delight Delia Ephron's new memoir is. Ephron has a gift for building characters. On her father-in-law: "This guy's son watched a car accident in which his mother was decapitated. This guy finally arrives at the scene of the crime, and his little son says,  What took you so long ? And the answer: A shrug, plus,  The subway stalled . No attempt at an emotional connection. Which says something big about twenty years of my husband's life." Ephron, planning her spouse's funeral: "One friend's husband wrote and said that my decision to limit the number of speakers was a sign of my deep cruelty. He said that I was shallow, and that I only wanted to spend time with Hollywood stars. The letter went on and on! He said I had permanently wounded his husband. Remember  I was in mourning. My spouse of many years had just died." On one clueless doctor, who will not address you by name and who will make sure that you're appropriately misera

  I'm amazed by the mounds of stuff that grow, and grow, and grow, in this house. I wander from room to room, in search of the car key, the TV remote, the baby bottle, the puzzle pieces, the poop bags for the dog. If I were teaching a college course, I'd call it "The Literature of Stuff." I'd feature Ann Patchett's essays, which are often just about giving shit away. I'd call attention to Shirley Jackson, who wrote about trailing behind her son, putting his sneakers in the proper place, then his towel, his art supplies, his school books. I'd make room for Mary Laura Philpott, who sees her child's move to college as "a chance I get to reconnect with the clean surface of my dining-room table." An occupational therapist visits and invents a dizzying list of "must-haves": a special kind of puzzle, a certain type of tape that will alter a rocking chair in a "therapeutic way" (the tape lasts for two hours, tops). There must

 For me, a big treat is the cartoons of Jason Adam Katzenstein. I'm pasting three here. JAK takes high-stakes human situations and makes them absurd. A painful breakup? Imagine King Arthur at the table: "It is not you. It is we." Struggling with daily life? Imagine you're a grain product: "You can't be an everything bagel to all people." Risking your finances in a dicey maneuver? Imagine your opponent is Goofy, from Disney World. ("He has a tell.....") JAK's minimalism and his tiny details are delightful to me. A king doesn't use contractions: "It is we." I also like the period--in place of an exclamation point--when a gambler whispers, "He has a tell." Important to "play it cool"--! Katzenstein has one memoir--worth reading--and a series of political cartoons (on race, Elizabeth Warren, and Susan Collins, among other subjects). I look up to this guy.

 I'm reading "The Palace Papers," by Tina Brown, and it's quite long. The Prince Charles portion drags on. (And on and on and on.) Still, there are treats. For example: *Despite her self-absorption, Margaret was an excellent parent. The Margaret/child bond was quite a bit stronger than the Elizabeth/child bond. When Margaret's child was unhappy at school, Margaret responded in a sensitive way. When Charles suffered in his Scottish boarding school/penal colony, Elizabeth said, "Tough it out." *People liked to work with Philip. People liked to work with Margaret. (She listened when her employees described their needs, and she chose gifts accordingly.) It seems that no one likes to work with Charles, who comes off as clueless, self-pitying, disorganized, and insufferable. *Flaws aside, Charles understood that East/West relations were a major problem long before 9/11. Charles was also talking about the toxicity of plastics many, many years before paper straw

 "Kramer vs. Kramer" is electrifying from start to finish. It won Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor, Best Supporting Actress, and several other prizes, and its "less starry" contributors (Justin Henry and Jane Alexander) were also up for Oscars. The movie helped to pave the way for a "troubled-family" decade of movie-making. ("Ordinary People" won Best Picture exactly one year later, and we had "Heartburn" and "The Good Mother" and other family/marital dramas....served up throughout the 1980s.....) In "Kramer"'s outstanding first fight, Joanna Kramer quietly confronts her husband. "I canceled the AmEx, the Visa. I removed $2,000 from our account, because that's what I had when we married. I took the dry cleaning out, and you will need to get it on Saturday. YOU, Ted. I can't do this. Our child is better off without me." Amazingly, Ted doesn't hear, and when he does finally stop for a m

 For a long while, Broadway has been a Disney theme park, and many new musicals are half-hearted exhumations of Hollywood hits. Sondheim was complaining about this in the 1990s. So it's strange that a "punk rock" play from the 1800s made it into the 2006 season. Tom Hulce and Michael Mayer were sitting together, and Mayer described a German schoolboy, in a little vest, in a pre-Weimar era. Suddenly, the boy removes a mic from his pocket and starts screaming, in rhythm. Hulce called this a "genius theatrical idea" -- and he was right. We feel the same things that German kids felt on pre-industrial hillsides. There is such a thing as universal human experience -- and the mic/lederhosen combo could help to make that point. Elsewhere, Steven Sater was thinking about Columbine; he was thinking about the pain and alienation kids feel, and about the gulf between teens and adults. (Imagine being Dylan Klebold's parent, missing signs, or telling yourself you've m

  One thing I hadn't known is that, if your child has sensory issues, storytime can be a challenge. (Maybe that's true with or without the sensory issues.) For many months, Josh would sit still for a story -- but, after his body grew stronger, he learned to throw himself from my lap and yell loudly until the storybook went away. This was painful, but we reached a detente. Now, if I give him the story first thing in the day, he will listen, or half-listen. And the stories need to be short: "Dear Zoo," "Barnyard Dance," "Kitten's First Full Moon." When Josh is "locked in," I'm reminded how great reading can be. I especially see this with "Dear Zoo." A crazed zookeeper sends wildly inappropriate gifts to a kid. A lion, a camel, an elephant. With each gift, you get a "pop-out" page: The child slides a paper cover off a basket, and reveals the animal underneath. This is a full-body sport for Josh. He cannot wait for

  Again and again, David Sipress says the thing we all think; specifically, it's the thing we think but can't articulate. The cartoon below is something Sipress could have drawn for today, and it doesn't use any unnecessary lines, it doesn't use any unnecessary words. It looks simple.

 Laura Trujillo has a brutal story. She was in college (or close to starting) when her mother's new boyfriend began raping her. Trujillo didn't tell anyone. She was relieved to see her mother happy; she didn't want to make waves. The mom and the boyfriend married. Trujillo went off into the world, married and had four children, and did high-profile work for USA Today. At some point, she went home to visit her mother, and the Rapist Relative, now-deranged, asked for a kiss. Or something like this. And the question brought forth memories of trauma--and Trujillo found herself disclosing the rape stories to her mother. Now, for several weeks, the mother remained with her boyfriend. She didn't leave! Then Trujillo wrote a note: "Just so you know, I don't blame you. I'm not angry with you." The mother received this note, considered it for two days, then threw herself from the rim of the Grand Canyon. Her body was recovered by means of an elaborate search-and