Liars and Saints

 Shalom Auslander has a gift for locating today's major problems, and for describing these problems in a fresh, funny way. His new book, "Feh," attacks Wolf Blitzer. (Why not?) Auslander feels disgust toward Blitzer, and toward the ghoulish pleasure Blitzer seems to find within bad news. ("Fifty dead in a shooting? This is a good night for me....") Still, Auslander discovers himself "infected" by Blitzer. During the pandemic, when Auslander's wife (Orli) tries to narrate positive stories for the little children, chaos breaks out. "In New York City," says Orli, "residents step onto their balconies to cheer for the healthcare workers!" "Those workers don't need cheering," says Auslander. "They need decent salaries." (At this point, the specter of divorce floats into the room.) Auslander writes beautifully about the "corporeal self." He confesses that he hates his body, and that he once almost died

 The final season of "Somebody Somewhere" offers up some new crises and breakthroughs. For example, Joel has a "poop event" that begins while he is parking his car. "It's coming out! Oh my God!" he screams, as he runs into Sam's house. (Oddly, Sam shouts, "Let me help!") On the positive side, Tricia has new pillow ideas, for her business. (As part of "Trish Upon a Star," Tricia creates dainty floral pillows with shocking messages...."Vicious Cunt," "Lying Cunt.") We will soon see a Christmas subset of pillows, with snowflakes and silver bells. Tricia's crowning achievement has little festive snowmen, and the stitching says: "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like You're a Cunt." I'm sad to see that this will be the final season--but, still, what a major achievement for Lisa Kron et al. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J1BihonDew8

  A strange part of middle age is slowly realizing you may be older than your boss. The person who employs me seems slightly lost. "I was at a crossroads ten years ago," he says. "I was pursuing a PhD in math, but also, I was in this Bruce Springsteen cover band, and I wanted to make that work. Both things sort of fizzled, but my neighbor was a tutor, and he gave me gigs, and that became my life." This story sends my head spinning. I wonder if Bruce himself ever considered the route of SAT tutoring. "I could draft 'The Rising' ....or I could start digging into those quantitative comparisons...." Anyway, I encourage my employer to snap out of it. "Can you tell me about parking?" I ask. "I always park illegally, around the corner. The cops will hand out a ticket--but it's only, like, once a year...." "Thanks!" (Perhaps this guy could meet my therapist?) "...Can we talk about your cancellation policy?" "

  Rewatching "The Sopranos," you spot certain issues. For example, it's a favorite trick of Chase's to have a villain "reemerge," having disappeared for several years. This happens with Richie, but again with Ralphie (the name even sounds similar), and yet again with Tony B.  It's not exactly graceful. Also, Meadow's character seems slightly inconsistent to me. A major event in Season Two is Meadow's discovery of a strong interest in UC Berkeley. This is "pitted against" an interest in Georgetown. Clearly, the writers want the Meadow character to remain near Papa--so they decide to send her to Columbia University. But Meadow's act of choosing is neglected; we just have to accept that the California dream has evaporated. (Additionally, I'm curious how often students receive both a cold shoulder from Georgetown and a warm welcome from Columbia.) No matter. What I love in Season Three is the show's consideration of thoughtlessn

 Taro Gomi made waves with "Everyone Poops"; he also deserves praise for "Spring Is Here." Gomi's minimalist text seems to be the "forefather" of certain Kevin Henkes books ("Birds," "A House"). The goal is to say as much as you can in very little space. Gomi briskly narrates a year: Spring is here. The calf is born. The grass grows. The children play. The storms come. Harvest days arrive. The world is hushed. The world is white. The snow melts. The calf has grown. Spring is here. Parallel structure helps to suggest the relentlessness of time. Subject-verb. Subject-verb. Subject-verb. A subtle shift, from present to perfect tense, represents the "climax" of the story: "The calf has grown." I'm moved by the calf--who, of course, makes me think of my children--and I appreciate the restraint in this book. It's harder than it looks.

  People are complaining that "Gypsy" gets revived too much--but I want to dismiss this claim. A big, brassy score and an original idea: These things are not encountered on Broadway very often. A jukebox musical may have been a guilty pleasure in the era of "Jersey Boys," but now the idea is so over-harvested, it makes me sad. The same for the movie-to-stage trend: "Death Becomes Her," "Pretty Woman," "Big Fish." These are stories that are not great on the screen, in their original forms. Why re-fry them and serve them up as musicals? The "Gypsy" team said, "There's this quirky memoir by a stripper, and it might have legs as a musical comedy." No one else had ever tried this. Additionally, the "Gypsy" framers wrote about power, in an odd, enduring way: Every mother/daughter relationship is about power, but the additional factor of professional stripping makes "Gypsy" sensational. We don't

 Colman Domingo made an impact in "Passing Strange," then his career didn't unfold the way he wanted. He was close to obtaining a role in "Boardwalk Empire," but, at the last minute, a researcher decided his (Domingo's) skin was not "the right shade of Black." Domingo threatened to quit the arts; his friend, Daniel Breaker, interceded. Next: "The Walking Dead," and remarkable roles in "Zola," "The Color Purple," and "Sing Sing." We are all at least up to our neck in worries--but maybe an incarcerated character is slightly "deeper in sewage." Domingo's protagonist has an artistic background; things were going well until an economic crisis, which led to months of drug-dealing. A murder occurred; Domingo wasn't involved, but he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Exculpatory evidence exists, but no authority figure seems invested in the process of evaluating that evidence. Domingo's c

  When I write about my life, I'm on the look-out for odd characters; strange behavior is a gift. I often think of Kristen Wiig, who has described a run-in with an eccentric Target lady. ("I knew, right then, that this would be my ticket to a paycheck--over and over...") It's easy to write about my kids because they are frequently making such odd choices (throwing crowded rooms into pitch-black darkness, standing silently and appearing unmoved through a Hanukkah concert "debut," flirting blatantly with the gastroenterologist). The greatest gift to me was a shitty contractor, who would text me about his prolonged bouts with diarrhea, his tiredness and sadness, his unfortunate failure to avoid sticking a large nail into his own eye. For me, the gold mine is a sense of ambivalence; you must be able to feel compassion for the person you are describing, but if you also have a "counter-narrative" of pure exasperation, this is fine material. Grace Paley s

 In some ways, I think it's easy to "program" my daughter's weeks, because it's as if I'm programming for myself. A "princess camp" that features dress-up, tea parties, and dancing seemed like an obvious selection. Unfortunately, Susie was expelled, because she isn't fully acquainted with the potty. I found this mortifying--but, also, the hushed, tense, public conversations (about "poopie" and "peepee") made me giggle. In Susie's "exit interview" paperwork, there was a space for "reason for departure." In that space, her mentor had simply drawn a little cartoon "sad face." I'm secretly relieved to be done with princess camp, because I found myself in a philosophical conflict with the headmistress. She had "Moana" and "Frozen" on heavy rotation, and these are simply less-than-ideal. I'd like my daughter to move on to "Frankenweenie," "The Great Mouse D

  As my kids "prepare" to reenter school, I'm rewatching the extraordinary third season of "The Sopranos," and I'm surprised to empathize with Tony. The Soprano patriarch has always had a special bond with his daughter--this is captured early in the series, when a weary Meadow says, "Dad, to some extent, we're *all* hypocrites"--and it's part of the show's brilliance to turn these two characters into enemies. Meadow's arrival at Columbia represents a crisis for Tony; Meadow will now encounter people, and ideas, that clash with Tony's own point of view. Though Tony is footing the bill, he feels ambivalent about Meadow's new moments of self-exploration. Meadow begins dating a good kid (given that this is "The Sopranos," the kid is of course pretentious and absurd, but still "decent")...The kid represents an "exit" for Meadow; she could (maybe) have a normal life. Tony objects, ostensibly for "

  For many years, Yale had a dorm called "Calhoun"; the reference was not just to a slaveholder, but to an ardent lover of the idea of slaveholding, someone who "advocated" for the idea of slaveholding. One argument for retaining the name "Calhoun" was that we must not forget major moments in history, including shameful moments in history. The name was not an endorsement of the man's legacy--but a provocative reminder that America had embarrassed itself in the past. In the movie "Origin," the leading scholar travels to Germany, where she learns it's a crime to display a swastika. "It's strange," she says. "In America, you can display a different symbol of genocide, a Confederate flag, and nothing happens. In fact, that flag is an official part of Mississippi iconography." Eventually, "Calhoun College" became a new dorm--but "Yale University" held onto the name "Yale." Although Mr. Yale

 If my spouse wants to get me fired up, he'll ask me to talk about divas. I'm not sure why--I have no interest in a Mahomes vs. Brady discussion--but I'm happy to opine. "A cabaret performance? You should never, never choose Sutton Foster over Heather Headley. Sutton is clearly talented, but she doesn't know how to assemble a solo show. And God knows she has tried and tried." I'm off to the races. "Broadway may be marketing Bernadette Peters right now, but the story of BP's vocal damage goes back at least twenty years. Don't expect much from her in the fall. Keep your eye on her colleague, Lea Salonga. With BP, it's like the producers have Joe Biden center-stage...but they're using Pete Buttigieg to make the speeches. No one is fooled." We have drifted into "pop" terrain; the stereo at Burger King is playing "Crazy in Love." "Who is this?" asks my husband. "Is it Rihanna?" I take a deep brea

 There is no law that says a memoir has to address every single part of your life in detail, but if you're married to a high-profile figure, and the marriage explodes in a public way, and you then publish a book that discusses everything *but* the explosion....that's at least mildly annoying. That aside, Anna Marie Tendler is a natural writer; she knows how to mold characters, with words. Her best character is herself; having checked into an asylum, Tendler makes jokes. When a doctor asks her about her depressive periods, she says, "I've certainly had them--but maybe not the kind of *period* you're talking about...." (Rim shot here.) Encouraged to discuss past therapeutic interventions and their levels of efficacy, Tendler says, "I guess I haven't seen success yet, because I weigh 80 pounds, and I want to die." (You can see this is a charming narrator.) I'm also drawn to Tendler's mother, who is a costume designer and an oddball. Mama Ten

  Blake Lively is a wonderful actor. This is sometimes overlooked because of her branding exercises, but if I had to choose a Lively performance or a Ryan Reynolds performance, Blake Lively would win every time. "The Shallows," "Cafe Society," "The Town," "A Simple Favor," Season One of "Gossip Girl"--all are entertaining, and Lively pulls her own weight again and again. People forget that the first year of "Gossip Girl" is patterned after "The Age of Innocence," and Lively is tasked with playing Countess Ellen Olenska. Not every young performer could pull that off. How shrewd to make "It Ends With Us," which is a crime drama. It's not a romance. It's an unusual choice for summer blockbuster fare. Like the clothed wolf, in the Little Red Ridinghood fairytale, the villain wears a disguise. Meanwhile, Little Red herself ignores an internal warning system--because it's frightening to consider how m

  My child's principal developed a kind of cult this year. It happened subtly. He began to stage assemblies--and he would speak at the start and conclusion of each assembly. He would speak of himself in the third person: "Before this year, the auditorium was neglected. But Mr. Johnson had a vision...." At the same time, he made himself completely inaccessible by email. He would post "away" messages that neglected to explain when he would return to the office. It almost felt as if a "returning by" date would be beneath him. A few bold moms complained about the "away" messages on Facebook--but other moms bit back. "He is a god. He is literally doing the jobs of four different people...." When my son graduated from pre-K, Mr. Johnson revealed that he had planned a brief solo musical performance. "I want you to know," he said... That the children are our future... Teach them well, and let them lead the way... Show them all the

  “Oh, Mary!” Is one case of an LGBT artist reflecting on a marriage. Cole Escola is reflecting on Escola’s parents’ marriage. When Escola was little, Dad chased the family out of a mobile home; Dad was carrying a gun. Escola et al. then lived in government housing, in an effort to “regain footing.” It’s Escola’s genius to turn this scenario into a comedy. In “Oh, Mary!” Abraham Lincoln fantasizes about murdering his wife, Mary, because he understands that the death might give him a “bump” in the polls. But (spoiler alert) it is Mary who actually commits a murder. She offs her gay husband, because his gloomy self-obsession has prevented her from pursuing her desired career as a cabaret star. Abe and Mary are dreadful people, but they are wholly relatable. Abe can’t control his lust; he forgets about the Civil War and dreams of young men, on their knees, opening their “wet, pink, puppy-dog mouths.”  Mary drinks paint thinner—as a means of escape—and, after she vomits the paint thinner i

 As far as I know, Jason Robert Brown's strongest work is "The Last Five Years," and I suspect this is because the show's subject is Jason Robert Brown. (The show is flawed.) The best song, "A Summer in Ohio," is a love letter from an actress to her NYC writer spouse. The actress is trying to talk herself into a sense of enthusiasm for her summer-stock gig, and the song works because of its specificity: I could have a mansion on a hill... I could have a villa in Seville.... But it wouldn't be as a nice as A summer in Ohio With a gay midget named Karl Playing Tevye and Porgy.... The song also features a terrific bridge: I saw your book at a Borders in Kentucky... Under a sign that said NEW AND RECOMMENDED... I stole a look at your picture on the inside sleeve... And then I couldn't leave... Richard, who was with me, got uncharacteristically quiet... Then he said, "All things considered... I guess you don't have to buy it." So I smiled li

  So often, my son's particular challenges seem to run on a parallel track to my own. Right now, I'm reentering the work world, and I'm reminded of a NYT piece, "Your Job Will Never Love You Back." Dealing with other people means: sudden, inconsiderate cancellations, weirdly unpleasant payroll supervisors, frustrating miscommunications with babysitters. (The oddest recent sitter exchange: "How do I change the diaper when the child won't be still?" I pretended that this was a reasonable question, and I said, "Just let the child win!") My son has this kind of issue, on a smaller scale. We are putting him through a boot camp of play dates. How difficult it is to function in the social world! My son gets irritated if he cannot control the light switch, cannot plunge the crowd into total darkness every five to ten seconds. If he builds an obstacle course with cushions, he becomes deeply annoyed by unsolicited input. He is a mimic, and he has cer

  Sometimes, lightning strikes. "Harry the Dirty Dog" is brilliant from title to finish. It introduces a memorable lead character, a dog who hates to bathe. Who could fail to relate? Harry--impetuous, free-spirited--chooses to run away from home. He swims in sewage, he digs his face into a pile of ashes. He leaps through puffs of smoke at the railyards. (This inevitably makes me think of my son, standing by a puddle, pouring buckets of bilgewater onto his own head.) Harry's new freedom entails a complete transformation; his formerly white coat becomes black. There are only small "moons" of white--untouched fur--peeking through all the sootiness. Then--like Odysseus, like Joseph, in the Old Testament--Harry the Dirty Dog takes his disguise and returns home. Further chaos ensues. How difficult is this literary project? You try. Give yourself a range of 100 or 125 words. This is a standout book for kids.

 Jeanine Tesori has written a trio of great domestic dramas: "Caroline," "Kimberly Akimbo," and "Fun Home." In each musical, the house is its own character; the house seems to live and breathe (I suspect because the lyricists were tapping memories of their *own* childhood homes). "Caroline" has an upstairs/downstairs vibe, with the surly Mrs. Thibodeaux hiding in the basement, chatting with the radio and washer (which are actually anthropomorphized). Upstairs, the depressed father plays his clarinet, and the lonely stepmother whispers into her telephone. "Kimberly Akimbo" has a prominent "swear jar," a kitchen table that comes to life, creating a whirlpool image, a basement of horrors. It also has Kimberly's bedroom, which becomes the site of a shocking betrayal. The fate of the bedroom is perhaps the most startling event in the evening--and it's the catalyst for the show's 11:00 number. My favorite Tesori house is

 My neighbor is consumed with worry. I thank him for my child's birthday gift; it's a small basketball set that gets affixed to one wall of the bathtub. A smash hit. "Oh, I'm so sorry about that," says my neighbor. "I hope it's not occupying too much real estate. I hope it's not too much of a disruption." This seems like an insane response--so I try to arrange my face into a smile, and the subject just changes on its own. "I had guests over, yesterday, for the first time in two years," says my neighbor. "It was nice, but the smoke from the grill has clogged one of my tear ducts...." He goes on. "I was supposed to be in New York today, but with the tear duct, and with my son awake from 3 to 5 am, I had to change my plans...." Sometimes, I want to quote Aunt Eller, from the musical OKLAHOMA! .... "Lots of things happen to folks! Sickness or being poor and hungry...being old and a-feared to die...That's the way

  An hour I love is "Chicanery," from "Better Call Saul." People call this the high point of the series. Here's how I understand it. Chuck, a troubled man, needs an outlet for his own pain, so he antagonizes his brother, Jimmy. He ensnares Jimmy by getting him to admit (on tape) that he has bent the law. Jimmy's reasons for having strayed from the path of rectitude are defensible, but Chuck won't open his ears. At the same time, Chuck's rage means that he is also bullying himself. Chuck has persuaded himself that he has an allergy to electricity ("AIDS seemed bizarre, too, when the stories first began to emerge"). Jimmy must show that Chuck is out of his mind--so that Chuck's case gets dismissed. But the process of course requires one brother to humiliate another brother. Chuck is a monster--but he is also, obviously, dealing with intense suffering. In a flashback, we see him trying to woo his ex-wife. He can't just tell her the sto

  A large part of my life is talking to the neighbors about children: what is happening with the pre-K lottery, what does it mean to have a "fear" of the sprinkler, which Disney World restaurant deserves a blue ribbon. So "Mothers' Instinct"--a campy melodrama about two NJ mommy-frenemies--seems tailor-made for me. In this film, Oscar winner Anne Hathaway lives next door to Oscar winner Jessica Chastain. All's well until Hathaway's kid climbs onto a roof, and Chastain doesn't properly intercede. The kid dies--and Hathaway appears to take her revenge. She steals from Chastain. She disrupts Chastain's public events. She (maybe) kills Chastain's mother-in-law? Hathaway has the obviously showy role, but Chastain also has fun. She gets to make an insane accusation against Hathaway. She finds herself breaking into houses. Finally, she *asks* to be committed, to be returned to an asylum, where she was once confined for months for the sin of having s

 He's at it again. He posts, on Instagram, "Just know, if we have ever been friends, at any time in our lives, there is a moment in the day, even today, when I pause and think of you, and wonder how you are doing. And I send you my best." I just would like to see the receipts; talk is cheap. Where is the evidence? He writes, "Someone gets murdered at a Trump rally, and does Trump place a thoughtful phone call? No; the next day, he goes golfing." Here, I'd like to respond. I'm no Trump fan, but this seems like a  Curb Your Enthusiasm  scenario. What is the exact timeline the country can decide on? How promptly must you write: "So sorry I helped to normalize political violence, and now, as a result, your spouse/brother/child is dead"--? I can imagine procrastinating. Particularly if a piece of my own ear-meat were missing, I might want to play hooky and just spend a day outdoors. Again, I'm not trying to be an apologist for Donald Trump.... M

  When the actress Anna Gunn asked for insight into her character, Mrs. Walter White, Vince Gilligan said, "She's like Carmela Soprano, but in this world, Carmela is *running* the mafia..." This strikes me as at least a partial misreading of "The Sopranos." To suggest that Edie Falco's Carmela does *not* run the mafia? Which show is Vince Gilligan watching? Here are some ways that Falco's Carmela pulls the strings. She intervenes when the "Big Pussy" marriage seems on the rocks; she gives bad advice to Mrs. Big Pussy, so that a divorce does not occur, a kind of status quo remains a kind of status quo. Carmela becomes a mafia boss in her dealings with Georgetown University; she uses the weight of her family's violent reputation to ensure that a glowing "letter of reference" takes shape and then travels to the right hands. Finally, Carmela gives her tacit approval when Tony brutally upends a civilian's life. When the civilian

 Simon Rich and Tom Toro have dreamed up a monologue for a backpack, which spends its summer in splendid quiet with the vacuum cleaner. (The book is "Back to School, Backpack!") September is a brutal time for the backpack: It must spring into action. It's strapped to a back, so that it is facing backwards; it can't tell what is approaching. It gets slammed against walls, jammed into filthy cubbies, conscripted into games of "monkey in the middle." It must cope with the harsh fluorescent lighting of school hallways, the unpleasant smells, the sharp-cornered math and grammar textbooks. Only the arrival of a sympathetic friend--a fellow backpack--eases the pain. It's not that this new companionship will *erase* the difficulties of school. But: Knowing someone hears you can make the challenges more tolerable. This is essentially a new spin on "Wemberly Worried," or "Timothy Goes to School." It's worth a look.

 I understand how to be a disgruntled employee; it's the "employer" role that feels uncomfortable.  I've hired a ninth grader to hang out with my younger child. Just for a bit. Being a ninth grader, she arrives late ("I'm sorry I'm, like, delayed"), and she seems mystified by a calendar that she herself has devised ("So tomorrow it's like I'm arriving at 8? Instead of 9?") ....Her personal crises--which are not quite cosmic, in nature--seem to spill, and spill, out of her mouth; she believes she has an audience on tenterhooks, because she is a kid. "My brother gets home from camp this weekend....I am NOT looking forward to THAT...." "Yeah, A--- is moving away for a year. Which sucks because, during Covid, we spent almost every day together...." A part of me dies when my protege asks, "What is your policy on television?" Because I don't want to formulate a policy. I want to write a check and just dis