Liars and Saints

  "Deadwood" was about inventing democracy; "Somebody Somewhere" is about inventing a family. Sam, our hero, has returned to Manhattan, Kansas, to try to live. She can't tolerate her day job, so she quits, and she moves in with her gay best friend, Joel. Evenings involve homemade martinis in a cramped living room; it's called "the honeymoon suite." Joel and Sam entertain each other with "Pound It or Pass," in which they evaluate the sexual desirability of strangers. These two don't share a bed, but they sleep with their doors open, and they call out to each other before shutting off various lights. "I think if I married," says Joel, "I wouldn't wear white. Because you gotta keep 'em guessing. I'd have the song 'Gloria,' by Laura Branigan, as my accompaniment, and you would be the lead singer." "No, no," says Sam. "You don't do Judy. You don't do Barbra. And you don't d

  Judy Blume recently shilled for two picture books -- within the pages of the NY Times. One, "Bark, George," is about marching to the beat of one's own drum. A little dog, George, keeps meowing, so his mother takes him to the vet. There, George coughs up a cat. He won't start barking, however; he quacks like a duck. (And he coughs up a duck.) He moos like a cow (and then he coughs up a cow). This builds to a twist, which is deeply satisfying if you've ever tried to control a small child's behavior. Another book, "Mother Bruce," talks about life's uncertainty. A grumpy gourmand bear (Bruce) acquires goose eggs; he plans to make a feast. But the eggs crack open, and the little geese "imprint" on the bear. Bruce never becomes a sterling parent, but he does eventually purchase a time-share in Miami so that he can assist with seasonal migration. There, a little turtle becomes strongly attached to one particular goose--so the goose gets a ta

 We tried French fries with Josh; he calls them "fee fries!" and he'll eat one or two before growing bored. My guru recommends direct instruction. "You have to remind your son,  chew, chew, chew, and swallow ." (I think of the Land of Chewandswallow, the meatballs raining from the clouds, the sun as a giant pad of butter.) Josh gets a little embarrassed if he is coached--but then I also hear him encouraging himself. "Chew! Chew! Chew!" Bunker Hill, for me, was carrots. "Steam them," said my guru. And my son saw the carrots as a kind of rat poison. "Roast them, cut them to resemble French fries; this is the key to success!" And I did this, and my son never deigned to touch even one orange strip. Briskly, my guru told me to move on. It was time to work with proteins. A "meat" ball is your friend--because you can persuade your child that he is eating beef when in fact he is eating little bits of mushroom. So I'm told. I&#

 James Taylor was institutionalized; he would look out his window and see a country road. This became the inspiration for "Country Road," which is a portrait of the artist as a young man. Take to the highway; won't you lend me your name. Your way and my way seem to be one and the same. I think of Taylor attempting to reach out to a poetic idol--like Walt Whitman. Following Whitman would be like following the highway, the "high" way, an elevated way of life. Mama don't understand it. She wants to know where I've been. I'd have to be some kind of natural born fool to want to pass that way again.... Taylor feels some pressure to choose a "conventional" life; rejecting security would be like choosing to wear a dunce cap. But Taylor really would like to be a "fool"; he would like to exist on the edge of society. He is guilty as charged. I can hear a heavenly band full of angels, And they're coming to set me free. I don't know n

 The first number in a show just needs to set a tone; it can tell you a bit about the planet you're visiting, and it can communicate sexiness or humor or anxiety. With "All That Jazz," we don't really need to know much about "buckle shoes" and "rouged knees"; we just need to note Chita Rivera in a slinky gown, and we need to see her beckoning to us: Start the car.....I know a whoopie spot.... Where the gin is cold, but the piano is hot.... "Little Shop of Horrors" broadcasts its own artful silliness right away: Shang-a-lang.... Feel the sturm und drang in the air! And "Dear Evan Hansen" makes us worried, even though we're just witnessing a family breakfast in suburbia: Does anybody have a map? Does anybody happen to know how the hell to do this? I don't know if you can tell, but this is me just pretending to know. So where's the map? I need a clue. Because the scary truth is: I'm flying blind.... And I'm maki

 I took him to the pediatrician for diaper rash.  This is often a fun trip because you get a little questionnaire:  Are you suicidal? How many times this past week have you struggled to get out of bed? How often do you drink until you pass out ? The questionnaire seems friendly, but I know its agenda: One wrong move, and you're going to need to take out loans to cover the lawyer fees and the sitter hours and the gasoline for the trip to the courthouse. My child screamed through his "rash visit," while the doctor gave me unneeded info in a chirpy voice: "Many little kids won't wear a face mask!" "It's possible to get strep  in your butt !" And the pediatric nurse tortured my child: She gave a balloon to his sister, but not to him. I thought this was stunning, like a final FUCK YOU. I had to chuckle as the inevitable fraternal/sororal fight began "picking up steam" in the parking lot. Who on Earth had decided that this particular woman

 Katherine Heiny has skills that make me think of Lorrie Moore: She moves from funny to sad in the span of two or three words. It's not crucial that a writer can make a reader laugh--but how nice it is when a sense of humor is part of the package. Heiny's new book, "Games and Rituals," has two toothbrushes on the cover. That's because the heroine of one story, the title story, has a preoccupation with toothbrushes. She has moved to New York to follow her boyfriend, even though this change means unpleasant "temping work." Her boyfriend insists on keeping his own apartment, and his wariness requires him to truck his toothpaste back and forth from his place to his girlfriend's place. The thought of purchasing a second toothbrush (a "travel" brush) just seems to be "too much." We can see where this relationship is headed. Heiny's heroine is a stand-in for anyone who recalls being adrift in "the twentysomething decade." (

 * "The Good Mother," by Sue Miller . This is an extraordinary novel about a woman who makes a mistake. She is drunk on love in the first few months after her divorce, and she allows her tiny daughter to sleep in a bed with her while she (the mom) finishes having sex with her boyfriend. People say that a good novel should make you worried; you should feel concerned about the narrator, and it's this concern that leads you to pick up the book again and again. Sue Miller knows how to be upsetting. Her debut novel--now called "iconic"--had a clear influence on Michelle Huneven, who wrote her own version of "The Good Mother" and called it "Blame." * "Woo Hoo! You're Doing Great!" Sandra Boynton has outdone herself with this tale of a masochistic chicken who comes dangerously close to self-destruction. That's actually the plot of the picture book. Suspenseful and astonishing. * "Everybody Knows," by Jordan Harper . In t

 We bought a little potty. Nothing is simple, so my husband and I struggled with a purchasing question: Do you buy a little potty  in addition to  a play potty? The play potty has an image of JJ, from "Cocomelon," and he talks to you about his poopy. But I'm trying to fight back against materialism. I want *fewer* objects--in general. So I voted NO on JJ. What did arrive was a kind of chamber pot; we are obsessed with hats, in this house, so we immediately wore the pot on various heads, and we shouted, "HAT! HAT! HAT!" Marc then grabbed a fresh diaper, and crowned himself, with his ears sticking out from the thigh-holes. "All right," he said. "Can't run out to CVS without my new hat....." We haven't made any other headway with potty training, but we do spend a great deal of time practicing our farm noises. At the dinner table, we mostly flap our arms like chickens, and then we screech bok bok bok BBBBBBBBBBBAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHK! At least

  In "Kimberly Akimbo," the 11-o'-clock number is a breakup song, and it's a show-stopper: I was never the daughter you wanted. That's the thing we never say. But that's the truth, and that's OK. We live in a house that's haunted. There's always you, there's always me. And there's the ghost of a girl I'll never be. There's the ghost of a girl I'll never be. This ending seems to allude to "Next to Normal": "Day after day, wishing all our cares away, trying to fight the things we feel--but some hurts never heal." Both songs are about a noble loss. It's painful to admit you have been in denial, but it's also liberating. I was never the girl you intended. She was young, and she was bold. She'd hold your hand when you got old. Let's admit the dream has ended-- And what you wished for wasn't me. She was the ghost of a girl I'll never be. She was the ghost of a girl I'll never be.  Before

  A few thoughts on "Succession" ..... *Sometimes, people want to take a guess about "who will win." As one critic observed, it's a strange game to play, because clearly no one will win. Everyone loses. That's capitalism. That's the point of the show (the invention of a socialist). *The "death" episode was so moving, I think, because the Roy children were allowed to be honest. The honesty was stunning. Roman: "Dad, you're a monster." Kendall: "I love you. I can never forgive you." Shiv: "I love you. Nothing can excuse what you...." These raw moments are in contrast with the standard bullshitty playacting in "Succession," and that playacting is spotlighted in a eulogy by a conservative donor who seems just slightly familiar with Logan: "Somewhere, in heaven, that great man is gathering his news anchors, and he is clearing his throat to say,  Roll the cameras ...." *I especially like how fraug

 My daughter has my impetuous streak; yesterday, she opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of white wine, and smashed it on the floor. On other mornings, she is eager to go outside; she throws a tantrum if the door remains locked. I'm torn in these moments. I'd like Susie to make use of the toys available to her. But I don't want her to be docile; I admire the fighting spirit. I think of Barbra Streisand: Each step I take, each page I turn... Each mile I travel only means the more I have to go. What's wrong with wanting more? Susie tries to feed me, and she gets impatient if I don't open my mouth. She grabs her stuffed dog and buries its snout in peanut butter. Sometimes, she points at things (we can't really tell the intention), and she gives a long, reasonable lecture in a foreign tongue. We're reviewing: *"Little White Rabbit." (The story of my life.) *"Oh My, Oh My, Oh Dinosaurs!" (As great as its title.) *""Goldilocks,"

 Sometimes, a musical asks us to cheer for the protagonist; we want what the hero wants, and it's enjoyable to walk in the hero's shoes. Alexander Hamilton wants freedom from oppression. ("When you're living on your knees, you rise up.") Yes! It's easy to sign on! The Little Mermaid has intellectual hunger. ("I want to know what the people know....") Three cheers for that! Young Maria would like to be a dutiful surrogate mother. ("To show them I'm worthy...and while I show them, I'll show me!") Hooray! In this context, I'm especially thrilled by the bleakness of Kander/Ebb's "Chicago." This show has one of the canonical "I Want" songs--and the wish isn't for anything admirable. The wish is just for fame. The show's hero wants to be a Kardashian. The name on everybody's lips is gonna be....Roxie! The lady raking in the chips is gonna be....Roxie! I'm gonna be a celebrity.... That means some

On "Romantic Comedy," a new novel by Curtis Sittenfeld:   Early in life, Curtis Sittenfeld began keeping journals; she realized she had thoughts worth recording, and then eventually she discovered she could build a career on these thoughts. Like her hero, Alice Munro, Sittenfeld sees an iceberg "under the surface." For example, many of us might choose to overlook the implications of a quick text exchange. But Sittenfeld makes the exchange into a kind of symphony.  He sent me a dick pic, and I hadn't asked for one. I started to compose a reply, but he resumed writing, even though he must have seen my thought bubble....I deleted my sentence and just wrote, "WOW!" Then....I wrote....."For me? Flattering!!" In her newest novel, Sittenfeld invents a protagonist who writes for "Saturday Night Live." One strength in the book is the fictional sketches Sittenfeld creates. "I noticed that, on  The Voice , the female judge would offer a r

  We had an unusual Easter; we drove to Rutgers, where you can visit the art museum for free. (Who knows if this is true now; a strike seems to have changed everything for Rutgers. My visit occurred maybe twenty hours before the start of the strike.) It's not clear to me what my children are getting from museums. Josh is a wild card; a huge tantrum is always (possibly) on the horizon. But for some reason, at Rutgers, Josh became very interested in pushing a heavy object down various hallways. He behaved like an angel. By contrast, his sister did some shoplifting; she pocketed a pastel crayon. At Rutgers, you can see Tiffany glass and a wonderful sculpted lion (by the woodcarver Elijah Pierce). But, to me, the highlight is a "Rogues' Gallery" by Daumier: I had no idea I'd see this, and it really stopped me in my tracks. I think it's possible to sense Daumier's joy and mischievousness, even if he has been dead for many, many decades. I'm pasting the snap

 Again, I'm not sure if Bowen Yang is consistently writing his own material, but regardless, he has eclipsed his co-stars this year by creating three intriguing gay men: *"M3gan" fan. Yang imagines "M3gan 2.0," where M3gan abandons her domestic life and simply embraces her gay male fan base. M3gan appears at "a club," and her abdomen is magically re-purposed as a machine for dispensing poppers. Yang squeals, "M3gan, you messy ho, I'm *obsessed* with you!" Yang then bows before his "queen." *"Straight Male Friend." Here, Yang grows tired of self-reflection and adopts a straight dude. This is so easy! You just field questions about dick size. "Big, small....It actually depends on the moment, the bond you have...." If you *do* want real engagement from your straight friend, you simply accuse him of being unable to run fast in a foot race. *"Jafar." We all know that "Aladdin"'s villain is

 One reason I love Ethan Hawke is that he is the ultimate "dad"; though Hollywood sometimes forgets that families exist, Hawke plays a dad again and again and again. In "Boyhood," he has a great scene where he demands that his kids report on their day. "Why should we? Why don't YOU tell us what YOU did all morning?" In "Maggie's Plan," Hawke enrages Greta Gerwig when he forgets to do some marital heavy lifting. And in "Sinister," Hawke annoys his clan by insisting on a move to a creepy new house (and by "forgetting" to explain his reasons for the move). But my favorite Hawke role is in "The Purge," a movie that looks like a dystopic tale but also looks like a domestic comedy. Hawke has enriched his children's lives by selling faulty security systems to the neighbors; he never stops to think that his ostentatious purchases might infuriate those same neighbors. Hawke has a daughter with some bad ideas about

 My daughter will be entering summer camp; this means folding her into a little swimsuit and slathering her in sunscreen twice per week. The camp involves arts and crafts; basically, a teacher's aid colors a paper trilobite and pastes it on a placemat, and we all pretend that this is the work of a toddler. (I look forward to the placemat.) Because Susie will be 1.9999 on the start date, and thus "under the threshold," she will need to do a low-impact version of camp--two, instead of three, hours. I haven't discussed goals with her yet, and we don't have a plan for maximal networking--though she may wish to use camp as a launchpad for her mayoral run (if everything works in our favor). And the times....they are a-changing.... Our books, for now: *"The World and Everything in It." A new work of genius from Kevin Henkes, and a way of playing with scale. (It seems to be a response to "You Matter," by Christian Robinson.) *"Goldilocks." A

 Joshua Henkin's novel, "Morningside Heights," is about caretaking and ambivalence. It's about how life sometimes tells you that one of your closest relationships will be with a live-in nurse--although your own plans seem to want to follow a different course. The wonderful protagonist, Pru, marries a man who soon shows signs of early-onset Alzheimer's. Pru isn't ready for this. (How could anyone be ready?) She insists that Columbia retain her husband as a lecturer--although the husband now stands blank-faced at a podium while the TAs do all of the meaningful work. Pru wrestles with nurses who demand raises; a raise isn't possible, but a free ticket to Lincoln Center could "sweeten the bargain." Pru needs to believe her husband is "sexually viable," when he clearly isn't--so Pru begins administering a blow job and pretends not to hear the frustration in her puzzled husband's response. I haven't lived through Pru's experie

 Stephen Frears finds the best women in cinema, and he invents memorable career-capping roles for these women. Amazingly, he has done this three times: with Anjelica Huston ("The Grifters"), Helen Mirren ("The Queen"), and Judi Dench ("Philomena"). Frears's new film isn't quite on par with his classics, but it's a vehicle for Sally Hawkins, and that's a good thing. Hawkins has been a force of nature in "Happy-Go-Lucky," "Blue Jasmine," and "Spencer" (and really she steals the show in "Spencer"). It's great to see her in a new starring role. "The Lost King" tells a story about sexism. A woman--Philippa--loses a job to a younger and less qualified colleague. Philippa is unmoored, and in her spare time, she becomes obsessed with Richard III. She decides to learn all she can about this "usurper." (A terrific idea for a movie!) During her research, Philippa becomes certain that Rich

  The newest episode of "Succession" plays with ideas about journalism. For Roman, news should be about pretty talking heads; CNN won't suffice because the news anchors are paunchy and balding. For Kerry, CNN cameras are just a fun, shiny toy; having never shown an interest in journalism, Kerry suddenly decides that "the desk" may be a ticket to stardom. (Kerry's shallowness is on display when she giggles during coverage of a hurricane. Greg--wonderfully--dismisses Kerry when he says, "The focus group thinks you have some work to do. Nothing major. Just some practice....over a course of...a few...years....What did the group object to? It's small. It's fixable. It's....for example....your arms.") Logan understands what news actually is. Logan screams the truth at his troops: "You are failing. Revenues are up 15 percent. Expenditures are up by 40. Does 15 equal 40? Who can let me know? ....You must be pirates. Find the open secrets--

  My daughter is her own person, but also, she has my habits. For example, she sometimes creates a small crisis just to be entertained. She throws her own stuffed dog to the ground, then shouts, "Oh, NO!" This is like when I pick a fight on Facebook just because I'm slightly bored, and I need to kill time until the dinner hour. Also, Susie is enchanted by colors; a walk around the block can cause her to say, WHOA. And this reminds me that, mostly, I watch television for the elaborate costuming; my favorite activity involves renting an hour of "Sex and the City." Finally, Susie looks for role models; she tries to sponge the walls, because she understands that this is what grown-ups do. This evokes thoughts of my own quest to become as sharp and unflappable as Bernadette Peters. We're reading: *"Fortunately," by Remy Charlip. A flawless picture book, jumping from plane crash to shark infestation to perilous trek through tiger-infested tunnels in Asia

  This week's SVU ("Lime Chaser") is about being an adult. It's a theme that runs through two different stories. The first concerns people in their twenties who are staging a "Divorce Party." The marriage occurred in a hasty way, during COVID, and the ship is now sinking. "What happened is that I thought he would change, and he thought I wouldn't." It's interesting to see this couple together in a bar, very briefly; there is obvious affection, because of the party, but also, one person antagonizes the other by demanding a free drink. The other visibly hesitates--before deciding that the ten-dollar charge in dispute isn't really "a hill worth dying on." The variation on this "growing up" theme is in the Muncy/Churlish story. Muncy doesn't want to work with Churlish because of a grudge. Olivia Benson becomes something like a Pre-K teacher, policing rows of desks ("If you have something to share, share it with