I have to be a dissenting voice on "Nate Expectations." I sense the press has been euphoric.
First, there are many things it does really well. It's charming. Federle has an appealing "voice." His asides about musical theater are smart, and they capture a certain mindset that isn't very well-represented in children's literature. My favorite is Nate's thought on "Tarzan": "overrated movie, underrated musical, still running in Germany!"
The platonic love between Nate and Libby remains delightful, and Libby is by far the most fully-developed character (beyond Nate). Many gay readers will recognize their own childhood friendships in the Nate/Libby bond. It's lovely to see how Libby quietly "deflates" Nate when necessary, and how Libby understands Nate in ways that others can't match.
Federle also excels at describing the joys of creation. You see Federle in Nate; this is a guy who can't stop making things. It's an incredible act of bravery for Nate to run away from home and audition for "E.T." It's also brave--and in keeping with Nate's spirit--to return home and immediately mount a production of "Great Expectations." Nate seems to be a slice of Federle's autobiography; like Nate, Federle has bounced from project to project. (In an amusing self-reference, Federle describes the failed musical adaptation of "Tuck Everlasting" toward the end of this new novel. Any Broadway fan will know that "Tuck Everlasting" was Federle's project.) I am enchanted both by Nate and by Federle--and by these gentlemen's insistence on building, building, building, even while vast portions of the rest of the world sleep, or indulge in TV-watching.
Now: my reservations. We don't actually learn much of anything about "Great Expectations," or about the production Nate brings to life. For someone devoting himself to Dickens, Nate has curious disdain for the novelist, and we sense that maybe his creator has the same disdain. We'd like for Nate to get his head out of his butt and notice the world a bit more. (Without a real interest in "GE," Federle suffers, because the portions of the musical never really come alive.)
Second: I don't fully understand Ben or Jordan. Ben's romantic interest is the major plot pivot in this book, so why aren't we allowed to see more of Ben? Also, Nate accuses Jordan of "ghosting," but that doesn't seem to be entirely fair to Jordan. And the Nate/Jordan relationship simply fizzes out, with some things presumably (and confusingly) happening offstage, because we sense that Federle wants to race ahead to his ending.
Third: I'm uninterested in the (half-developed) lawyer plot toward the end of the novel, because who really cares about the "Great Expectations" musical, given that the author himself seems not (fully) to care? The lawyer material seems intended to "hold more weight" than the weight it actually holds.
Four: Nate's dad seems to be a caricature, and it's not at all clear to me what is happening in the parental marriage, and I sense it's not fully clear to Federle, as well. (That said, Nate's mother's "rainbow flag" text is a highpoint of the novel.)
Fifth: Sometimes, on a sentence-by-sentence level, Federle is simply baffling. At one point, Nate asks something like: "Are we really going to do this?" And Libby replies: "Did HAMILTON deserve to win all its Tonys?" And Nate pauses, because he thinks Libby is implying HAMILTON did NOT deserve those wins. But when you have this kind of banter, the point of the second question is to convey: DUH. YES. That's why this second question is often: "Is the Pope Catholic?" Does Federle not get this? He makes tiny linguistic errors of this sort over and over, and though they are small, they are consistently distracting.
In short: I want Federle to slow down. He is a gifted writer, and I'm envious. But, also: He can do better.
SPOILER ALERT. THOUGHTS ON A STAR IS BORN.
-My husband didn't feel entirely shaken by "Jack"'s suicide, because it seemed a bit sudden. I get that. There's quite a bit riding on the one vicious speech by "Ally"'s dreadful, oily manager. But remember, also, Jack has the hearing issue that has derailed his career. And he has a history of at least one other suicide attempt. So: hard to say. Cooper could have made himself look a bit more rundown in the final scenes. Just a thought.
-My main problem is that there's a good deal of talk about "having something to say"--and yet, does either one of these singers really have a great deal to say? We have that generic song about going "off the deep end," which we hear over and over and over again. Then there's Ally's selling-my-own-soul number, where she gyrates a great deal--and we're told to think that that song is bad. And then there is the one great song at the end--the love song Jack wrote before dying. But is there really enough evidence to suggest that Ally is a profound artist (as Jack seems to believe)? Might Ally just be a person with a powerful singing voice? And where's the evidence to support the claim that Jack really does have something to say?
-I loved Bradley Cooper's big post-rehab moments. Where he fights himself before getting out the things that he needs to say to his wife and his brother. Oscar reel!
-I liked, also, how scenes seemed to begin in medias res. The pacing seemed relentless, even though the movie is quite long. I especially liked how the final song cut from Ally to a remembered scene--Jack and Ally at the piano. (Richard Brody would argue that Bradley Cooper did this in order to put the emphasis on Bradley Cooper. Brody thinks that the movie is Cooper's expression of extreme self-love. Which: fair enough. But I was really shaken by that dramatic cut-to-the-piano moment, toward the movie's end.)
-Delightful to see little Hamilton, Jr., from HAMILTON, in a supporting role!
-Delightful, also, to see the outspoken drag queens.
-So: The movie is a solid "B." Worth seeing. Next, please!
-P.S. I especially enjoyed Lady Gaga's "Just Folks" saltiness in the early scenes. This is the same "I-am-of-the-people" shtick that Gaga presented to us in her Netflix documentary. (Remember, though Gaga did attend Manhattan's fancy Sacred Heart, she had to take a bus from the shabby Upper West Side all the way across the Park to reach East 92nd...and you can't say that about many of the other girls.) Lady Gaga does a fine job showing us her Italian tough-talking roots as she sweeps through her father's kitchen, scolding various old men for their sloppiness. And you see that same toughness when she blithely addresses her boss with my favorite line from the movie: "I quit. Find someone else." (That said, it's not clear to me why Ally had so many grievances with her boss. He scolded her, but he was right to scold her. My sympathies were not at all with Ally in those early workplace scenes.)
First, there are many things it does really well. It's charming. Federle has an appealing "voice." His asides about musical theater are smart, and they capture a certain mindset that isn't very well-represented in children's literature. My favorite is Nate's thought on "Tarzan": "overrated movie, underrated musical, still running in Germany!"
The platonic love between Nate and Libby remains delightful, and Libby is by far the most fully-developed character (beyond Nate). Many gay readers will recognize their own childhood friendships in the Nate/Libby bond. It's lovely to see how Libby quietly "deflates" Nate when necessary, and how Libby understands Nate in ways that others can't match.
Federle also excels at describing the joys of creation. You see Federle in Nate; this is a guy who can't stop making things. It's an incredible act of bravery for Nate to run away from home and audition for "E.T." It's also brave--and in keeping with Nate's spirit--to return home and immediately mount a production of "Great Expectations." Nate seems to be a slice of Federle's autobiography; like Nate, Federle has bounced from project to project. (In an amusing self-reference, Federle describes the failed musical adaptation of "Tuck Everlasting" toward the end of this new novel. Any Broadway fan will know that "Tuck Everlasting" was Federle's project.) I am enchanted both by Nate and by Federle--and by these gentlemen's insistence on building, building, building, even while vast portions of the rest of the world sleep, or indulge in TV-watching.
Now: my reservations. We don't actually learn much of anything about "Great Expectations," or about the production Nate brings to life. For someone devoting himself to Dickens, Nate has curious disdain for the novelist, and we sense that maybe his creator has the same disdain. We'd like for Nate to get his head out of his butt and notice the world a bit more. (Without a real interest in "GE," Federle suffers, because the portions of the musical never really come alive.)
Second: I don't fully understand Ben or Jordan. Ben's romantic interest is the major plot pivot in this book, so why aren't we allowed to see more of Ben? Also, Nate accuses Jordan of "ghosting," but that doesn't seem to be entirely fair to Jordan. And the Nate/Jordan relationship simply fizzes out, with some things presumably (and confusingly) happening offstage, because we sense that Federle wants to race ahead to his ending.
Third: I'm uninterested in the (half-developed) lawyer plot toward the end of the novel, because who really cares about the "Great Expectations" musical, given that the author himself seems not (fully) to care? The lawyer material seems intended to "hold more weight" than the weight it actually holds.
Four: Nate's dad seems to be a caricature, and it's not at all clear to me what is happening in the parental marriage, and I sense it's not fully clear to Federle, as well. (That said, Nate's mother's "rainbow flag" text is a highpoint of the novel.)
Fifth: Sometimes, on a sentence-by-sentence level, Federle is simply baffling. At one point, Nate asks something like: "Are we really going to do this?" And Libby replies: "Did HAMILTON deserve to win all its Tonys?" And Nate pauses, because he thinks Libby is implying HAMILTON did NOT deserve those wins. But when you have this kind of banter, the point of the second question is to convey: DUH. YES. That's why this second question is often: "Is the Pope Catholic?" Does Federle not get this? He makes tiny linguistic errors of this sort over and over, and though they are small, they are consistently distracting.
In short: I want Federle to slow down. He is a gifted writer, and I'm envious. But, also: He can do better.
SPOILER ALERT. THOUGHTS ON A STAR IS BORN.
-My husband didn't feel entirely shaken by "Jack"'s suicide, because it seemed a bit sudden. I get that. There's quite a bit riding on the one vicious speech by "Ally"'s dreadful, oily manager. But remember, also, Jack has the hearing issue that has derailed his career. And he has a history of at least one other suicide attempt. So: hard to say. Cooper could have made himself look a bit more rundown in the final scenes. Just a thought.
-My main problem is that there's a good deal of talk about "having something to say"--and yet, does either one of these singers really have a great deal to say? We have that generic song about going "off the deep end," which we hear over and over and over again. Then there's Ally's selling-my-own-soul number, where she gyrates a great deal--and we're told to think that that song is bad. And then there is the one great song at the end--the love song Jack wrote before dying. But is there really enough evidence to suggest that Ally is a profound artist (as Jack seems to believe)? Might Ally just be a person with a powerful singing voice? And where's the evidence to support the claim that Jack really does have something to say?
-I loved Bradley Cooper's big post-rehab moments. Where he fights himself before getting out the things that he needs to say to his wife and his brother. Oscar reel!
-I liked, also, how scenes seemed to begin in medias res. The pacing seemed relentless, even though the movie is quite long. I especially liked how the final song cut from Ally to a remembered scene--Jack and Ally at the piano. (Richard Brody would argue that Bradley Cooper did this in order to put the emphasis on Bradley Cooper. Brody thinks that the movie is Cooper's expression of extreme self-love. Which: fair enough. But I was really shaken by that dramatic cut-to-the-piano moment, toward the movie's end.)
-Delightful to see little Hamilton, Jr., from HAMILTON, in a supporting role!
-Delightful, also, to see the outspoken drag queens.
-So: The movie is a solid "B." Worth seeing. Next, please!
-P.S. I especially enjoyed Lady Gaga's "Just Folks" saltiness in the early scenes. This is the same "I-am-of-the-people" shtick that Gaga presented to us in her Netflix documentary. (Remember, though Gaga did attend Manhattan's fancy Sacred Heart, she had to take a bus from the shabby Upper West Side all the way across the Park to reach East 92nd...and you can't say that about many of the other girls.) Lady Gaga does a fine job showing us her Italian tough-talking roots as she sweeps through her father's kitchen, scolding various old men for their sloppiness. And you see that same toughness when she blithely addresses her boss with my favorite line from the movie: "I quit. Find someone else." (That said, it's not clear to me why Ally had so many grievances with her boss. He scolded her, but he was right to scold her. My sympathies were not at all with Ally in those early workplace scenes.)
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