Liars and Saints

  In a musical, you will generally see an emotional shift right before the end of Act One. The stakes need to change. One of the most effective examples is from "Kimberly Akimbo." Right before the curtain, Kim decides that she is going to make a birthday demand: If her parents really want her to have a good day, they can promise to be different people. (Less drinking, less self-absorption, less flakiness.) Kim is essentially a child; she thinks these sorts of promises have value. We, in the audience, can sense a trainwreck in the future. Terrific dramatic choice. Another celebrated example is "Defying Gravity." Elphaba realizes that the Wizard is not what he claims to be; she decides she will wage war to free the animals of Oz. The song should feel both exhilarating and nightmarish. Hard to beat the flying, belting Elphaba. "Six" does something unusual. We don't get a curtain that "divides" two acts. But--really--there is a curtain. It falls ...

 One of the best hours I had this summer was an instructional hour; a third grader and I worked on a diorama. We had been reading "The Cricket in Times Square" by George Selden. Many of my curricular ideas come from my old mentor, Sara, who believed third graders *should* be exposed to George Selden. But Sara's third graders were New Yorkers; my own third grader has never been to Manhattan (and this is amazing to me, because my student lives in Maplewood). It's abundantly clear why "Cricket in Times Square" is a classic. First, the setting. A cricket and a mouse exchange ideas by a newsstand underneath Times Square; we're on a subway platform. The subterranean world of Tucker Mouse is wonderfully vivid; if you're a tiny mouse, then you notice every piece of detritus next to the trash can. Every candy bar wrapper is a treasure. This world is contrasted with the glamour of Times Square and Chinatown; Mario, a little boy, is the "tissue" that ...

 Clifton Fadiman sounds insufferable. He was a misogynist. He informed his daughter of his extramarital affairs by saying, to her, "I've just had a stroke. There are some women I want you to call. Share the news. Don't ask any questions. Here's the list." Fadiman also struggled to cope with daily life. When his wife/servant had a health episode, Fadiman (reasonably) chose to drive his daughter to a restaurant for dinner--and he immediately crashed the car. On the other hand, Fadiman was a revered critic for "The New Yorker"--he was brave enough to say that Faulkner was for masochists. Fadiman launched his own career by inventing 100 good ideas for book proposals--handing the list to a friend in publishing--and worming his way into a Manhattan editorial department. Additionally, he edited "Cricket" Magazine and did a high-profile translation of Nietzsche. None of this really matters--what matters is that Clifton is the father of Anne Fadiman, on...

  I loved this movie. Dwight Garner somewhat ludicrously referred to Marlon James's new novel as "the novel of the century." I won't say "Coyote vs. Acme" is the movie of the century, but it has the aura of a classic. Wile E. Coyote wants to sue Acme because its products are defective. You buy mechanical wings--and you find yourself immediately falling to Earth. Will Forte--in a beautiful performance--agrees to take on Wile E. Coyote's case. Wile E. Coyote cannot speak, but his face displays a range of emotions. It's just like the faces of the various sheep in "Mossy Bottom." Also, Wile E. Coyote can hold up cue cards that convey some of his more complex thoughts. Likewise, Road Runner cannot articulate motives, but Road Runner *can* say "meep meep" for "yes" and "meep" for no. The WEC/Road Runner relationship is important in our culture; it's the source of the Bob/Bart relationship in "Cape Feare...

 Niagara-on-the-Lake is a posh tourist town that traces its origins to the Revolutionary War. According to my husband, Loyalists fled the colonies and built a new life in Canada. But the rebels sought revenge in the War of 1812. Niagara-on-the-Lake was then reconstructed. The town hosts the Shaw Festival--although, in my experience, no one actually likes the plays of George Bernard Shaw. I've yet to meet someone who can't stop talking about "Mrs. Warren's Profession." Those indifferent to Shaw include the Shaw's own former creative director, who turned down the Shaw Festival's job offer several times before saying yes. Over time, the Festival's mandate has become slightly watery; there is now a vague understanding that a Festival play should have a setting that overlaps with Shaw's own era (roughly 1850 to 1950). But Marc and I just saw "Sleuth," which seemed to take place in the 1970s? So who knows. As I grow old, I find myself wishing j...

 The George Cross mysteries feature a detective "on the spectrum." He seems to have no interest in dating or sex, so his family life is centered on his parents. (By contrast, "The Tunnel," a TV series, features a neurodivergent detective who seems to have a robust sex life. I wonder if Tim Sullivan--author of the Cross novels--is aware of "The Tunnel.") George Cross grew up without a mother. For a long while, it was his belief that Christine, his mother, couldn't handle the challenge of living with a "special needs" child. But, in fact, Christine left for unrelated reasons. She discovered that her husband, Raymond, was gay; in that era, the "cleanest" solution seemed to be the act of disappearing. I think Sullivan could dig deeper here. There was really no other way for Christine to cope with complications? The author's "blurriness" around the Christine question is one of the weakest aspects of the George Cross books. ...

  The reason I felt drawn to Dolly Parton was that she seemed to follow the Stephen Sondheim playbook. One of the Sondheim rules was that form should match content. And there I was last night in a restaurant, listening to "Jolene": Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene. Please don't take him just because you can. Dolly's speaker does not need to explain to us that she is obsessed--because Dolly's use of *form* conveys the message. Those four "Jolenes"--on ascending notes--create the feeling of obsession. We know what it is like to be inside the speaker's ruminating head. Another note from Sondheim was that every song should function as a one-act play, with exposition, development, and a conclusion. Recall that Dolly was just in high school when she wrote "The Bridge." It's a little bit overheated and predictable--but it's still nothing like the writing you would expect from a teenager. A kid appears on a bridge and recalls that this was he...