A Death on Broadway

(5) I don't love the musical "Ragtime."

To me, it feels like the dutiful work of an uninspired "A" student. Competent and lifeless. It lacks humor. It lacks surprise. It wasn't material that suited Marin Mazzie well--because Mazzie was sexy, and "Ragtime" didn't let her show that. She just had to stand center-stage and deliver some leaden and fairly obvious observations about gender inequality. (That said, she did her work well. "Let this be the year we *both* travel.")

My favorite Marin Mazzie moment was her performance in "Broadway's Leading Ladies." This was some PBS special that threw together Mazzie, McDonald, Judy Kuhn, Lea DeLaria. The list goes on. A closeted boy's wet dream. Mazzie did a slinky, winking song by--you guessed it--a gay man. A genius. Lorenz Hart. The song was "Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered."

I saw this at the start of my freshman year in college, via VHS tape. Mazzie was singing about a disreputable boyfriend, someone you couldn't really respect who nevertheless had talents in bed. The line that struck me was: "He's a laugh but I love it, because the laugh's on me." This was a cliche of course--"joke's on you!"--but it also seemed to be a case of innuendo. The laugh--the man--is *on* me. Literally. In bed. On me, doing naughty things. This electrified me. And it seemed to gesture to some kind of New York City sophistication--something adult that I didn't understand. But I was determined to understand it.

I quite liked Ms. Mazzie, and now she is dead--too soon. But she's still on that PBS recording. Long live Marin Mazzie. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Ay_dM0ogdU

(4) Just so you know: "The Land of Steady Habits" is out today, on Netflix. Killer cast: Ben Mendelsohn, Connie Britton. (No Catherine Keener in this Holofcener project, which is troubling.) Holofcener--the director--is among the most talented storytellers at work today. But you may not have heard of her. That is strictly because she is a woman. Attention must be paid.

(3) "Girls." Revisiting the start of Season Six, I was struck by the insight into human behavior. Particularly in Marnie's parts. The way she has failed to learn Ray's coffee requirements. The way Desi seduces her by making a (spurious) claim about her artistic talent. And the genuine warmth and joy she exhibits when she discovers that Hannah is "in print." (How could you not feel for Marnie?) I also love, love the work the camera does at the beginning: Flashing on Hannah's delighted eyes, her visible tongue, her forehead as she has lost herself in the act of creation. How do you film something as apparently static as the act of typing? You do it exactly as "Girls" does, at the start of Season Six. Then, like the "Girls" writers, you zoom in on the happy faces of the readers. Brilliant.

(2) Val McDermid has a new novel on the horizon. It should be in America within the next few months. Mark your calendar.

(1) Why do I love Anna Kendrick? In the preview for "A Simple Favor," she sits with her boho chic new friend. "Cocktails!" she says, nervously, trying to be charming. "This feels so high tone." On the words "high tone," she makes an awkward, spontaneous "raising the roof" gesture. It's bizarre and anxious, and it seems not--quite--to match the actual content of what she is saying. Which is a phenomenon you may have noticed in your own behavior when you, yourself, are a bit on edge. I watch this clip, and my heart melts. I don't know about the rest of the movie, but God Bless Anna Kendrick. You know where I will be this weekend.

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...

Raymond Carver: "What's in Alaska?"

Outside, Mary held Jack's arm and walked with her head down. They moved slowly on the sidewalk. He listened to the scuffing sounds her shoes made. He heard the sharp and separate sound of a dog barking and above that a murmuring of very distant traffic. She raised her head. "When we get home, Jack, I want to be fucked, talked to, diverted. Divert me, Jack. I need to be diverted tonight." She tightened her hold on his arm. He could feel the dampness in that shoe. He unlocked the door and flipped the light. "Come to bed," she said. "I'm coming," he said. He went to the kitchen and drank two glasses of water. He turned off the living-room light and felt his way along the wall into the bedroom. "Jack!" she yelled. "Jack!" "Jesus Christ, it's me!" he said. "I'm trying to get the light on." He found the lamp, and she sat up in bed. Her eyes were bright. He pulled the stem on the alarm and b...

My Favorite Pop Song

One thing I admire about Prince is his weirdly pretentious verses: Dream, if you can, a courtyard-- An ocean of violets in bloom. Also: Touch, if you will, my stomach. Feel how it trembles inside. No one else writes like this. Did people try to shoot down these choices? Did a producer say, "We'd like to rethink this one... Touch, if you will, my stomach...." I can't help but wonder. But it's the chorus that makes this a classic. It's direct and universal--and it ends with that bizarre flourish, the allusion to "the crying doves." (Prince's song was number one in America for quite a while; it defeated Bruce Springsteen's "Dancing in the Dark.") How can you just leave me standing-- Alone in a world that's so cold? Maybe I'm just too demanding. Maybe I'm just like my father--too bold. Maybe you're just like my mother; She's never satisfied. Why do we scream at each other? This is what it sounds like when doves cr...

Liars and Saints

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