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Lena Dunham: "Famesick"

 Lena Dunham reminds me of Amy Winehouse. You listen to a tape of the pre-adolescent Winehouse, and the voice is already there--the talent is undeniable. And Dunham's major movie--"Tiny Furniture," essentially the work of an undergraduate--is a masterful comedy. It's the kind of thing that earns you random emails from Nora Ephron. (Ephron lobbied for Lena Dunham's company.)


Amy Winehouse didn't want fame; she wanted to be a jazz singer in tiny nightclubs. Lena Dunahm didn't want fame; she wanted to express herself.

The early years of "Girls" are a horror story. Dunham teams up with a "friend," a substantially older woman, Jenni Konner. Instead of mentoring Dunham, Konner views her child-colleague as a kind of meal ticket. In the first season, Dunham begins to show signs of disordered eating. Konner does not offer help. She approaches Dunham and says, "The producers are worried that your weight seems too normal. The show doesn't work if you look normal. You need to put food in your mouth--bulk up. It's not that hard."

Adam Driver is less of an adult, but he is adult enough to understand it's a bad idea to throw chairs. 

Then there is Scott Rudin. Dunham fulfills a contract for Rudin--but Rudin wants more, which he is not entitled to. When Dunham says no, Rudin sends a lengthy, ranting, abusive email. Dunham's mother says, "He sends that particular email seventy times per day. It means nothing. Don't give it a second thought." But--if you're new to the adult world--it's difficult to take this advice.

Dunham's greatest skill is her ability to be unsparing toward herself (as well). We see her making terrible decisions on dates, ignoring her own nausea so she can embarrass herself on the set of "Bridesmaids," giving little or no thought to basic questions about her own housing. Her sentences are electrifying. The talent is still undeniable.

I'm happy that Dunham has survived--and I think the new book is the best thing she has done in several years.
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