Important Thoughts on Michelle Pfeiffer

Bored at work? Frustrated with people who aren't returning your calls? It's time to contemplate the greatness of Michelle Pfeiffer.

-Ms. Pfeiffer has been called a character actress in a movie star's body. In other words, she is stunningly beautiful but also she is an idiosyncratic and surprising performer. My husband wondered if Ms. Pfeiffer's dazzling beauty has actually kept her from being taken as seriously as we might wish; I doubt this. Emma Stone, Jennifer Lawrence, and Natalie Portman are all glamorous and lovely people who also have Academy Awards.

-I do think that Ms. Pfeiffer made some questionable choices at the peak of her career. She was wanted--ardently--for "Thelma and Louise." She said no. People wanted her for "Silence of the Lambs"--but the material was, in her view, "too dark." Just imagine what could have been!

-During her hiatus from acting, Ms. Pfeiffer painted. Yes! She made paintings. She couldn't stop herself.

-Routinely, Ms. Pfeiffer is called the one bright spot in lackluster movies. She is often cited for "adding class to the joint." I'm thinking of the bizarre "Stardust," along with "Dark Shadows" and "The Family." One of the most upsetting developments in recent history was having Pfeiffer appear in the almost unbearably boring summer film "Ant-Man and the Wasp." Pfeiffer was given maybe four lines, and then she was swallowed by a black hole (or something like this). I took a nap. Pfeiffer appeared, once again, at the very end, to express her thanks to the bland Paul Rudd, and then the movie ended. (I guess Paul Rudd had saved MP from the black hole?) What is wrong with this country? Why do we give big chunks of air time to Mr. Rudd, and not to Ms. Pfeiffer? This almost ruined my summer.

-Michelle Pfeiffer seemed to go after an Oscar with "Cheri"--and this may have looked like a smart move, given the director's earlier collaborations with Anjelica Huston and Glenn Close. But no one liked "Cheri." People were much kinder to Pfeiffer's other big costume dramas: "The Age of Innocence" and "Dangerous Liaisons."

-A distressing moment in Pfeiffer's career: She takes on the role of Ruth Madoff in a not-well-received HBO movie. Sarah Jessica Parker interviews Pfeiffer. Weirdly inarticulate, Parker struggles to say, basically, this: "Ruth must have known what was going on." And--shockingly--Pfeiffer shuts Parker down. Pfeiffer says: "Ruth has repeatedly denied knowing anything, and I believe her." This seems oddly facile to me. Really? Ruth was in no way attuned--even in a subconscious way--to her husband's awfulness? I guess I understand that, if you're an actor, you want to "advocate" for your character in every possible way. But wouldn't it be more interesting, in this case, to explore Ruth's possible duplicitousness? And to try to work your way into that mindset--to *understand* that possible duplicitousness? This is the sort of thought that fills my time.

-Toni Morrison has a book out. It looks dull and humorless, and its ponderous title is: "The Source of Self-Regard." Somewhere in the book, Morrison states that she "can't talk about lipstick when there's a plague in the land." I think the implication is: Trivial matters do not deserve our attention. Well, I disagree. I'd rather read a Nora Ephron essay on Teflon than Morrison's thoughts on the "plague in our land." Call me trivial! I write, today, in the spirit of Nora Ephron. Little things matter. May fond memories of Michelle Pfeiffer's early- and mid-career work guide you through your day.

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...

The Death of Bergoglio

It's frustrating for me to hear Bergoglio described as "the less awful pope"--because awful is still awful. I think I get fixated on ideas of purity, which can be juvenile, but putting that aside, here are some things that Bergoglio could have done and did not. (I'm quoting from a survivor of sexual abuse at the hands of the Church.) He could levy the harshest penalty, excommunication, against a dozen or more of the most egregious abuse enabling church officials. (He's done this to no enablers, or predators for that matter.) He could insist that every diocese and religious order turn over every record they have about suspected and known abusers to law enforcement. Francis could order every prelate on the planet to post on his diocesan website the names of every proven, admitted and credibly accused child molesting cleric. (Imagine how much safer children would be if police, prosecutors, parents and the public knew the identities of these potentially dangerous me...

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...

Liars and Saints

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