Skip to main content

Can't Stop Talking About...

True-crime recs:

*"American Predator." This is a new book that explores the life of Israel Keyes, a notorious serial killer from Alaska.

Evil is not always interesting--although the part where (already-thin) Keyes seems to get a gastric ring to make himself into a more super-efficient killer ... is memorable--but do you know what *is* consistently interesting? The ingenuity of good people. "AP" does a fine job of tracking the smart moves of a heroic investigator--Payne--as he contends with moral turpitude and at least one really misguided colleague. You begin to see detective work as an art. Fabulous, hold-your-breath reporting.

*"I Love You, Now Die." This is an unfortunate title: It makes me think of the musical, "I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change." But the story is worth discovering. We're talking about the girl who sent a series of text messages to her "boyfriend," coaxing him toward suicide. That girl is now behind bars, and will remain there for several more months.

In the press, the villainess was treated as a demonic mean girl, but of course the story is much more complex, and it's even possible that you may eventually feel sympathy for the author of the disgusting text messages. The filmmaker here--Erin Carr--is my hero, and she has done excellent work in other areas, as well. (I'm thinking of "Thought Crimes" and "All That You Leave Behind.") Carr made her start in the world by filming a man who believed he was entitled to create functional guns with a 3-D printer. I haven't seen that footage, yet, but I'm curious.

*"Behind Closed Doors," "The Innocent Man," "The Cheshire Murders." I haven't watched. I will soon. I can't watch "The Cheshire Murders" while I'm home alone.....

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

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...