Liars and Saints

  "The Best Minds" is worthy of the hype; it's an astonishing story told by the *correct* storyteller. As the NYTimes observed, it's "pin-you-to-your-couch" storytelling. Michael is a bright and egotistical kid in New Rochelle. He is interviewed at the school paper's office; if he were offered the spot of managing editor, rather than editor-in-chief, would he accept? Despite the fact that the editor-in-chief will be his close friend, Michael throws a tantrum. This moment of poor judgment does not hurt in the long term; Michael is offered a spot at Yale. He lives in Silliman College and graduates in three years. Summa cum laude. Phi Beta Kappa. He goes off to work at Bain, which pays Yale graduates to spend long weekends memorizing all of the operational details that form the skeletons of various industries. (The Bain employees then offer their consulting services.) At this point in his life, Michael has started imagining that flames are licking the floor...

 Yesterday, Adam Feldman wrote on Facebook that "there is an alternate, better timeline in which Heather Headley is the dominant Broadway musical star of the twenty-first century." No one could argue with this. After Headley's barnstorming performance in "Aida," Headley sort of disappeared. Her few appearances--in "Dreamgirls," "The Color Purple," "Into the Woods"--have become the stuff of legend. Headley has warned against the siren song of adulation. "If, when you're off the stage, you don't know who you are....you're in trouble." Headley spends most of her time in suburban Illinois. Anyone who saw Headley as Sondheim's Witch can imagine how fiercely the director must have fought *against* the Patina Miller scenario. I'm sure Miller was fine. Heather Headley was earth-shaking. The Witch is Sondheim's opportunity to revisit Madame Rose. Like Rose, the Witch is a weak leader. She is politically flaw...

  The local pool is staffed by half-sleeping teenagers, and my daughter uses this to her advantage. She approaches the snack bar and demands both a Krispie marshmallow square and a ring pop. A well-adjusted adult might question this. But the teenager just hands the items to Susie before my husband can intervene. Susie has passed  the point of no return. Teenagers aside, this pool has quite a bit going for it. There are bright patches of mysterious tropical flowers. A far corner involves a perilously high "high dive"; for my daughter, that corner is a source of awe and terror. My son is so excited to splash in the kiddie pool, he actually begins to bounce on the toes of his feet. For him, clearly, there isn't a moment of worry about being observed or judged. Given that I'm a tutor, I have made some academic observations, and I have grave concerns about our local curriculum. It's not a shock to me that the pool's social media efforts are sketchy; if the social m...

  So many people endure bad breakups--but they cannot get outside of their own perspective. They see two roles--victim and evildoer. There is no subtlety. This isn't a fun story to watch or to read. What moves me about Hayley Kiyoko is that she can fully envision multiple sides of one story. In a clearly autobiographical tale ("Girls Like Girls"), young Hayley falls in love. She discloses details about her past. Somehow, the details become "public"--Hayley immediately concludes that her crush, Maya da Costa, has spilled the beans. This isn't fair to Maya da Costa. (And the allegation is false.) At the same time, Maya da Costa is a mess--struggling with the idea of coming out of the closet, reversing herself without attempting an explanation. It's fun to see these two circling each other. I am not sure anyone in an audience would fail to "relate." Happy to have spent time with this film.

  Jane Kenyon did extraordinary work with syntax; she did extraordinary work on the topic of antidepressant medications. With the wonder and bitterness of someone pardoned for a crime she did not commit I come back to marriage and friends, to pink fringed hollyhocks; come back to my desk, books, and chairs. Another gift Kenyon had was to build an unusual list: "friends, hollyhocks, desk, books, chairs." ("Happiness comes to the boulder in perpetual shade, to rain falling on the open sea, to the wineglass, weary of holding wine....") Having been returned to life by a monoamine oxidase inhibitor, Kenyon feels skeptical: Unholy ghost,  you are certain to come again. Coarse, mean, you'll put your feet  on the coffee table, lean back, and turn me into someone who can't  take the trouble to speak; someone who can't sleep, or who does nothing but sleep; can't read, or call for an appointment for help. There is nothing I can do  against your coming. When I a...

  Joe Bird has a gay crush--but he observes his gay crush fooling around with the minister's son. To retaliate, he goes to the minister and reveals "the awful truth." He then watches in silence as the minister's son endures forced "conversion therapy." This is already a terrific setup, but then things get *really* weird. The conversion therapy involves a faith healer. The faith healer pretends to "cure" you--but in fact unearths a demon whose plan is to destroy you. The demon takes the form of the young man you desire--as sweet-nothings are exchanged, the demon prepares to rip out your intestines. Given that this is a horror film, we do see several acts of intestinal ripping. And this isn't the *only* problem on Joe Bird's plate. His mother--Mia Wasikowska--becomes convinced that it's unsafe to be gay in Australia. So she arranges for Joe himself to go through the faith healer experience. Joe doesn't fight back--or his fight isn...