Liars and Saints

  A spooky story beloved by my family is "The Night It Rained," by Alvin Schwartz. It's immediately unnerving. A man is driving in the night when he spots an underdressed boy in the rain. He offers a sweater to the boy (Jim), and Jim becomes a passenger in the car. The man drives Jim home and says, "I'll just stop by tomorrow for the sweater." But the next day, the man meets Jim's mother, who is confused. "My son is not alive," she says. "He died last year." The narrator then visits Jim's tombstone--and the borrowed sweater is draped over the lettering. I love this story because it demands that the reader make inferences. We can imagine that the man visits Jim's house during daylight hours because he is concerned about possible neglect (and the sweater is a helpful thing to pretend to focus on). We might also guess that Jim is spotted walking on the road because this is the region where the *living* Jim was once struck by a ca...

 Sharon Horgan is among my favorite TV writers. I really enjoyed "Catastrophe," "Divorce," and the first season of "Bad Sisters." (Horgan's apparently groundbreaking series--"Pulling"--seems to be unavailable in the US, though I've tried.) Horgan is so important to me, she has changed my reading choices. I don't really listen to anyone regarding book recommendations. But I'll listen to Sharon Horgan--she has directed me to "Rosemary's Baby" and to the Dolly Alderton novel "Good Material." One of my Mount Rushmore selections, in terms of serialized narrative, is Adam Goldman's "The Outs." Goldman was inspired to write this because of Sharon Horgan's "Pulling." So I was pleased by the arrival of "Youth." The pilot is standard Sharon Horgan: The Horgan character, Alex, turns sixty and gets arthritis in her jaw, meaning she can no longer give BJs. She hasn't had sex in ...

 Brad Pitt is so good in this movie. He is just acting opposite a dog--really, four dogs (taking turns). In sum, you are watching a two-hour monologue delivered by Brad Pitt. Pitt has survived a war (maybe the most recent war in Iraq?) His "battle dog," Odin, has also survived, but Odin has lost a leg and developed a now-lingering case of PTSD. The two friends travel to Alaska for rest and relaxation. Pitt has a heart attack while trying to pilot his little plane--this then becomes a survival/adventure story. There are three main antagonists: a rushing river, a bear, and a pack of wolves. Pitt, the actor, makes a smart choice; he will not "externalize" his despair. So he becomes something like Henry Fonda or Gregory Peck; it's just a joy to watch him. The trick about camera work is that viewers *want* to ascribe human feelings to dogs. You show an image of a suffering child--and then you show a dog's face--and the viewer *reads* empathy in the dog's eyes...

 I saw him at a party for "Zootopia 2." Our kids were involved. My frenemy's husband made no indication that he had been reading my autobiographical essays. My frenemy's husband works in real estate--but he wants to abandon that world in favor of a political career. He posts many angry short films about Trump and about ICE--I can tell that these gestures are gratifying for him. He met my husband for coffee--and for a chance to discuss how he can  really make a difference --and my husband listened in a polite way. This leads me to recall a favorite scene from a Lorrie Moore story. An undergrad, wearing a large leather bow, visits a history professor. "I just want my major to mean something," she says. And the professor says, "That's your FIRST problem. Have a great afternoon." The professor adds, "I really love your bow." I understand the issue of career fatigue. I'm grateful not to work in real estate. Even tutoring--which has the...

  This is a painting that has "grabbed" me for several years. A woman and a Roman soldier are accusing Peter of being a friend of Christ. There are three pointed fingers -- one for each of the three accusations (or the three denials). As he tells a lie, Peter seems to humble himself; he is not holding his head up, and he has not put his shoulders back.  Amy Bloom wrote several stories about an aging couple of adulterous horndogs; as the years go by, the man and woman understand that they will likely need to split up. (They have behaved very badly. Once, the woman expressed her frustration by crushing her lover's fancy wristwatch with the wheels of a car.) As the date of the breakup lunch approaches, the woman reflects that this won't be pretty. "Neither one of us will leave covered in glory." That line reminds me of Caravaggio's painting. Peter is embarrassing himself. But, also, the accusers are acting in a shameful way. The woman seems drunk with rage,...

 I've enjoyed every John Green book I've read, and the new one continues the streak. Juniper Castillo is an Ariana Grande type. She endured childhood stardom. There was a fair amount of abuse; one mentor closely monitored Castillo's weight and forced her to take on physical discomfort. ("If you can keep your pulse rate low during an assault, that's a way of learning how to be a screen performer.") In early adulthood, Castillo is nakedly ambitious; she understands that Hollywood is a game, but she really, really wants to win the game. By contrast, Juniper's co-star, Kai, is not interested in the politics of celebrity. He just enjoys inventing a character. Kai isn't sure he wants the attention that comes with a movie role; in Kai's high school years, a teacher was (repeatedly) sexually abusive. If the abuse story leaks to the press, Kai will have to articulate his thoughts about frightening memories. He will have to do this in front of multiple camer...

  I'm not whining. I do think it's strange that the public school system requires parents to endure a tedious "orientation" program in the spring--when the same bland material is re-rehearsed for parents the following autumn. David Sedaris once wrote a scathing review of a local elementary school's production of "A Christmas Carol," and I often think about this piece. At "Back to School Night," the greatest tension resulted from a discussion about reusable water bottles. I find the bottle obsession to be absurd. In my childhood, you just made a stop at the public drinking fountain. Now, each little pre-K diva needs a Nalgene, as if he or she were Audra McDonald, replenishing fluids during a Carnegie Hall recital of Schubert's German art songs. But my daughter's teacher shocked all parents by demanding *two* water bottles per student. There was then a lengthy, baffling speech about the lunch basket and the snack basket--and the problem o...

In "The Night of the Dolphin," Lisa frees a captive dolphin from Sea World. But the dolphin turns out to be Snorky, King of All Dolphins. Having been given power, Snorky organizes a revolt. ("Our playful leaping was not about discovery and joy. We just hated the water. We wanted to get out.") Homer believes that mankind can win the war against dolphins. ("We humans have destroyed a species before. And we invented the pudding cup, the glory hole, and the peel-and-eat shrimp....") But the dolphins are the victors. People retreat to the sea. Having become philosophical, Homer remembers the soil. "Well, land....I guess the dolphins just WANTED it more...." This segment is wonderful because of Snorky, who speaks in well-organized paragraphs and walks on his caudal fin. You also get a helpful insult to borrow if you're ever in a fight with a dolphin. ("You're just a....hoop-jumping.....TUNA-MUNCHER....") The writer--Carolyn Omine--has...

 Paul Simon's "Graceland" is an "I Am" song--it's rueful and amused and optimistic. It is a grownup pop song. Like any artist, Simon sees the dissolution of a marriage as an opportunity. He takes a *literal* journey (to the South) while also taking an "inner" journey (to the truth or something like the truth). The external world is an echo of the interior world. When Simon alludes to "the cradle of the Civil War," he is talking about Abraham Lincoln, but he is also talking about the civil war that was his marriage, and he is talking about the war within his own soul. Writing without self-pity, Simon notices something funny about Carrie Fisher: She comes back to tell me she's gone. As if I didn't know that! As if I didn't know my own bed. As if I never noticed-- The way she brushed her hair from her forehead. (For the next several years, Fisher and Simon will continue to send mixed signals to each other. One will always be trou...

 Andrew Garfield makes a point of working with high-profile directors: Scorsese, Lin-Manuel Miranda, David Fincher, Guadagnino. So the Garfield/Paul Greengrass collaboration has a sense of inevitability. It's the 1300s! The bubonic plague is doing its thing. Richard II is running out of money; his nefarious advisors suggest that he should tax the poor. But the masses strike back. There is an assumption that Richard II himself is a decent person; he has just (unfortunately) surrounded himself with snakes. Fighting ensues. People start to reevaluate their understanding of Richard II. That's the entire movie. If you're going to have sinister barons whispering in the 1300s, you're going to need Stephen Dillane and Tom Hollander; this movie gives us both actors, and they do exactly what we want them to do. You also get Katherine Waterston, consistently mysterious as Joan of Kent. The biggest shock of the cinema summer season was Anne Hathaway in "The End of Oak Street...

  https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2026/arts/television/best-tv-shows-21st-century.html In every imaginable universe, "Somebody Somewhere" is a smarter, subtler show than "The Pitt." I have watched and written about both shows. You will never convince me that the Times is justified in ranking "The Pitt" *above* Bridget Everett's masterpiece. You will never convince me that this is anything other than sexism. Everett would never make something as clunky as the "Tree of Life" chapter from "The Pitt." That said, I want to share my happiest memory of TV watching. It involves "Better Call Saul," a show that did not crack the top twenty in the Times. (Absurd.) There are moments in history when all of New York City and its suburbs seem to be focused on one TV mystery. Will Jesse survive the finale of "Breaking Bad"? Did Ralph, in "The Sopranos," murder his own horse (just to collect insurance money)? Which ...

  This is my other favorite painting; it's by Peter Paul Rubens. It has a title--but I prefer to give it my own title. I've selected the title "Leaving the House." Little Frans, the boy, has run ahead and ascertained that the car door is locked. He wonders why Peter Paul can't hurry up, find the remote key fob, and click the "beeper" button. Mom, Helena, worries that it might rain. Peter Paul understands that the trip ahead will involve walking--the family is heading to the zoo. Wouldn't it be smart to double back and locate the stroller? Right now, I'm watching "The Americans"; the main story that interests me is about the married Jennings couple and their teen daughter Paige. Whenever the Jennings share a secret, they exchange looks, and their daughter notices the look, and the camera notices the couple *not* noticing Paige's moment of observation. When Paige visits her parents' fake travel agency, she jokes that Mom wants to ...

  Lily King called her first story collection "Five Tuesdays in Winter"; the title is a dare. King is daring herself to find extraordinary moments within superficially banal settings. Extraordinary moments within a "winter Tuesday." Mitchell's daughter, who was twelve, accused him of loving his books but hating his customers. He didn't hate them. He just didn't like having to chat with them or lead them to clearly marked sections--if they couldn't read, why were they buying books? .... His daughter loved the customers. She sat behind the counter at the cash drawer every Saturday, writing up receipts in an illegible imitation of his own hand and chatting like an innkeeper. She was too tall and too sophisticated for a Maine preteen. She made him uneasy. She had recently learned the word "reticent" and used it on him constantly.  "Isn't he the most reticent person you've ever met?" she asked Kate, his only other employee. ...

  I first saw "Spring Awakening" while I was in my early twenties; I had endured a Catholic education in which my teacher, a deacon, made a point of observing that homosexual intercourse was a problem. "Two men can have a close friendship, but all articles of clothing must remain in place...." With "Awakening," it was immediately clear that something seismic had occurred.  There is the band on the stage, and blackboards, and several members of the audience. Lea Michele appears in a white gown and recites a kind of prayer: Mama, who bore me-- Mama, who gave me-- No way to handle things-- Who made me so sad. Mama, the weeping-- Mama, the angels-- No sleep in Heaven... Or Bethlehem... What is she talking about? Having lived through her own Christian education, Lea Michele's Wendla feels chaotic, unnerved. She seems to identify with Mary, exhausted, wandering through Bethlehem, visiting unfriendly innkeepers at overpacked inns. (Later, the unwed Wendla wil...

 Harlan Coben was not a voracious reader at Amherst College. (His classmates included David Foster Wallace and the future superstar Dan Brown.) Coben was not "groomed" to be a writer; his parents liked books, but they didn't push an agenda. When Coben tries to explain the source of his ambition, he recalls a high-school classmate who was murdered. The apparent killer--another teenager--simply disappeared. Coben also recalls that he lived near a site for the storage of nuclear missiles. (This was close to the Livingston Mall.) And one of Coben's neighbors was a wealthy mafia kingpin--a man responsible for several murders. These bits of data floated around in Coben's head. And he became a writer. Coben offers life advice--as well as writing advice--and he sometimes offers advice that seems to fall into *both* buckets. Don't whine. Be curious about the world. Don't hesitate to make things up. Bad writing often seems like throat-clearing. There is a tendency t...

 A couple seems to have some pedestrian problems. The man and woman have recently relocated from Chicago to London; the new house has issues with its wiring. The man complains to a friend about British customer service reps: "They're not rude, but they're not NOT rude, you know? No one is going the extra mile." One source of tension at home is that the young woman believes in ghosts while the young man does not. Then--in one of the most startling scenes I've ever witnessed in a theater--the young man begins a new conversation with the young woman. And the young woman suddenly evaporates. She does not leave the room; she does not drop through a trapdoor. She evaporates. "She" had been an otherworldly imposter. It's time to call in the Barbara Hershey neighbor. (I refer to this person as the Barbara Hershey neighbor, because she is in every scary movie, and she is sometimes played by Barbara Hershey. She is the PhD who has to recite a nonsense speech a...

  With "Hacks," Jean Smart was consistently better than her material. She made the show seem smarter than it was. I have no objections to her Emmy win.  I do have objections to the "Hacks" finale. Let's revisit this. DV, having heard she has a more-or-less terminal illness, tells Ava that she will be linking up with Dignitas. It's time to die. As others have noted, DV makes no mention of her daughter or grandchild. This is implausible, but it's *also* a slap in the face to Kaitlin Olson, who has done beautiful work as "Junior" throughout the series. Ava first rejects DV's invitation to Europe. She won't participate. Then, she recants. Oh, fine. A pivotal scene occurs at the Louvre. Ava suggests that the "Mona Lisa" is middlebrow. "I mean, it's prettier than anything *I* could do, but....meh." DV says the painting is the most beguiling image in Europe. Ava immediately responds: "Lady, what BEGUILES me would m...

 My daughter has an elaborate fantasy life, and she has minimal interest in the actual, tangible world. She writes lengthy ballads about personal crises and personal growth. But she cannot be bothered to hold a can of seltzer--the seltzer immediately slips from her hands and spills all over the floor. Over and over again. I increasingly feel like I'm watching an X-ray image of myself--and I even have memories of obtuse adults scolding me about spilled liquids. (These are memories from my childhood.) I'm *now* in the role of the obtuse adult. The other side of Susie's personality is a tendency toward harsh self-criticism. What happens is that she cannot tolerate constructive criticism from another person--because she feels fragile and she needs to believe she has a continuous stream of every adult's unstinting understanding and approval. I see this so clearly. Yesterday, we watched the "new" version of "Moana." It's not as bad as the reviews. But ...

  You can't buy "A Woggle of Witches" on Amazon--unless you're willing to pay an absurd amount of money. But it's on YouTube. It's the story of a coven; the witches wake up on Halloween night and have an adventure. There are four stages: the wakeup routine, the feast, the journey, and the return to land. Adrienne Adams has fun with the details. The witches sleep in pods during daylight hours; they are high in the trees. Their feast involves "cobweb bread" and "bat stew." To travel, they fly on brooms; their destination is the surface of the moon. Then, in a moment of situational irony, the witches contend with terror; they are frightened to notice a group of tiny trick-or-treaters back on Earth. The figure who steals the show is the Moon Man. He is visibly irritated when the witches--like little ants--gather close to his eyeball. But he can't retaliate. This makes me think of an acquaintance of mine who violates the local parking rule w...

 The greatest musical is "Gypsy"; this has entered "beyond debate" territory.  If you look at Broadway's musical offerings right now, they are generally bad. It's hard to find a musical with a smart book, high stakes, an original story,  and  a soaring, intelligent score. "And Juliet" can't give you all of that. "The Lost Boys" can't give you all of that. It's not clear to me that "Schmigadoon" has high stakes. And, though "Two Strangers" makes more of an effort than almost any other show currently on Broadway, the score and the book leave something to be desired. Among other things, "Gypsy" touches on the destruction of a family, the debasement of women in America, the idea of emotional abuse, and the gap between truth and perception. And it's a musical! "Gypsy" does almost everything extraordinarily well, but its really sublime moment is (at least for me) the end of Act One. This i...