Three Very Different Films

Based on Cormac McCarthy’s masterful novel, John Hillcoat’s film THE ROAD comes close to depicting the desolate, viscerally post-apocalyptic themes of the novel, but I doubt any filmmaker could perfectly capture McCarthy’s raw, poetic prose.  A father and son (the always-compelling Viggo Mortensen and talented newcomer Kodi Smit-McPhee) are traveling alone after an unnamed cataclysm has destroyed North America and possibly the world.  Solitary travel is necessary in this new world, as other survivors have turned to cannibalism since food has run out, but this is much more of a dramatic film than one of horror or science fiction.  The spare dialogue is well-adapted from the book, as are several key scenes.  The unrelentingly bleak subject matter makes this a difficult film to watch, but that is what makes it successful.  Visually saturated with tones of gray and brown, the occasional orange flames have that much more impact on the viewer.  Well-acted with key supporting roles by Charlize Theron, Robert Duvall and Guy Pearce, THE ROAD is not for those looking for action or optimism, but for film lovers looking for a faithful, intense and visually arresting rendering of a masterpiece of fiction, look no further.

Oren Moverman’s THE MESSENGER is a different kind of war movie, and gives an arresting perspective on Iraq and Afghanistan.  Wounded soldier Sgt. Will Montgomery (Ben Foster, late of 3:10 TO YUMA and TV’s Six Feet Under) is reassigned as part of a Casualty Notification Team with Capt. Tony Stone (Woody Harrelson), notifying next of kin of soldiers killed in action.  Stone advises Montgomery not to get close (physically or emotionally) to any of the “NOK” and to deliver the news and leave.  Montgomery, whose ex-girlfriend is now engaged to another but spent a weekend with him when he returned Stateside, battles his demons with loud music and eloquent fistfights with his apartment walls.  When Montgomery becomes involved with a war widow (a low-key Samantha Morton) that the team notified,  tensions flare.  This is a quiet and powerful film of the aftermath of war, seen from several perspectives.  Ben Foster’s performance here cements him as a young actor to watch, and Woody Harrelson is well-cast in the showier role of Capt. Stone.  Steve Buscemi has a nice cameo as a father who is notified of his son’s death.  The six ‘notifications’ that punctuate the film are all very different and show the range of human reactions to loss.   Far superior to the melodramatic BROTHERS, THE MESSENGER is an excellent companion piece to THE HURT LOCKER in the lexicon of Iraq War cinema.

The words ‘based on a true story’ can sometimes lead to eye-rolling.  As can the words ‘directed by Clint Eastwood’ at least for me, as I am not a huge fan.   But he has been slowly winning me over with MYSTIC RIVER (one of my favorite books) and GRAN TORINO.   INVICTUS does a pretty good job of it, too – the uplifting story of an underdog rugby team in South Africa, set just after Nelson Mandela becomes president.  Oscar nominees Morgan Freeman and Matt Damon give heart and dignity to the story of a country still divided by apartheid at all levels of society, from the president’s security detail to the ragged rugby fields in the slums.  Damon plays Francois Pienaar, captain of the underdog Springboks, and his friendship with Mandela is the quiet core of the film.  Freeman is ideally cast as Mandela, and the scenes that show his compassion, kindness and also stubbornness, both in politics and in private life,  are a joy to watch, though the film does not have time to explore much of the complexities of Mandela’s road to the presidency.   Recommended for drama fans and those looking for a more substantial sports film.

The Best American Essays 2010

The Best American Essays 2010

Though I love essays, this is my first foray into this annual anthology, and I will certainly be going back for more.  I chose it because of the editor, Christopher Hitchens, whose biting, brilliant prose greets me every month in Vanity Fair.  I also love the fact that he is an unapologetic freethinker, atheist, and all-around curmudgeon.  The world needs fewer sheep and lemmings.  (Hitchens is also currently undergoing treatment for esophageal cancer and the September and October 2010 issues of VF contain well-written essays on his illness.)

This collection has the expected wide range of thematic material, though all of them will surely not be to everyone’s taste.  I will single out a few that left an impression on me…

“The Bad Lion” by Toni Bentley is an arresting take on anthropomorphism…one expects a lovely trip through the veldt as the author goes on safari, but her meditations on an essentially sociopathic male lion in the park and the response of park staff is an excellent example of a great essay being one that takes the reader in a wholly unexpected direction.

Jane Churchon’s “The Dead Book”  is an autobiographical essay on the author’s work as a nurse and her responsibility for pronouncing death on her patients.  Her straightforward, almost conversational style belies a depth of respect and compassion for those moving from one world to the next.

In “The Elegant Eyeball” by John Gamel, an ophthalmologist gives fascinating insight into his specialty, especially the treatment of patients with macular degeneration.  Both truly informative and genuinely moving.

“Lunching on Olympus” tells the tale of a young man (Steven Isenberg) and his encounters with iconic British literary figures such as W. H. Auden and E. M. Forster in the 1960s.  Not at all larger than life, the celebrated figures, as seen through Isenberg’s youthful gaze, are regular, sometimes eccentric people, and their simple humanity comes to the fore in this essay, which is also a snapshot of a lost era.

Steven Pinker’s “My Genome, My Self” examines the pros and cons of genetic testing.  Language scholar Pinker uses subtle and self-deprecating humor to thoughtfully examine his own test results.

“Gyromancy” by Ron Rindo offers an intriguing take on Vincent van Gogh, positing that instead of significant mental illness, the tortured artist actually suffered from Meniere’s disease.  The author is similarly afflicted, and his gripping account of attacks of severe vertigo makes for compelling reading.  You will never look at “Starry Night” in the same way again.

And finally, who can resist David Sedaris? “Guy Walks into a Bar Car” relates a fateful train ride, the end (and beginning) of a number of relationships and a debauched interlude in the ladies’ lounge.  Vintage Sedaris.

Other essays tackle such diverse themes as Tolstoy, Orwell, Marion Barry, William F. Buckley,  the Gettysburg battlefield, John Updike, divorce,  and Emmitt Till, among others.  All are worth reading and thinking about and showcase the diversity and quality of the short nonfiction form.

(Advance copy courtesy of the publisher and netGalley)

As Always, Julia

I have always been a fan of Julia Child, not least because we share the same birthday.

What a pleasure to read this collection of letters between Julia Child and Avis DeVoto in the 1950s, as Child was working on Mastering the Art of French Cooking with colleagues Simone Beck and Louisette Bertholle.   Background and bridge material is provided by Joan Reardon, but this is all Avis and Julia. 

The two women ‘met’ when Child, living in Paris, wrote to DeVoto’s husband, writer Bernard DeVoto, in response to a magazine essay on knives, and Avis replied.  The two women bonded right away, and corresponded in great detail throughout the 1950s and beyond.  This book is a tribute to the lost art of letter writing – the intelligent, incisive and conversational style seen here is a far cry from the contemporary penchant for emoticons and abbreviations.

Julia and Avis discussed more than just food in their letters – McCarthyism, politics and the literature of the era are a large part of this collection, although French cuisine is at the heart of the book.  Julia’s passion for the book project, despite numerous hurdles with publishers, coauthors and ‘translation’ of classical French cooking to an American audience, remains strong.  

One of my favorite themes in the book is the running conversation between Avis and Julia over the pros and cons of ‘modern’ advances such as the garbage disposal (“pig”), canned food, chest freezers and the frozen food to put in them – absorbing primary-source cultural history.

My one quibble with the book is Reardon’s use of asterisks and footnotes to explain or contextualize historical and cultural facts.  While some notes are helpful, others assume little knowledge of the era – have we dumbed down as a society so much that a note explaining who Nikita Khrushchev and Adlai Stevenson were is necessary? 

This volume, forthcoming in December 2010, will be a lovely companion piece to Noel Riley Fitch’s biography of Julia Child, Appetite for Life, and gives a richer historical perspective on Child and her masterpiece for fans of Julie Powell’s Julie and Julia.

Bon appétit!

(Advance copy courtesy of the publisher and netGalley)

Thoughts on Stieg Larsson

So, I am one of the last people on the planet to read the Millennium trilogy by Stieg Larsson.  And I loved them – a most pleasant surprise for someone who can’t stand books in translation ( I always feel like there is a ‘distance’ between me and the original language) and prefers not to read international thrillers.   It’s a shame that Larsson died before completing the projected 10-book series….Mikael, Erika and especially Lisbeth are characters I would love to visit again.

As a latecomer to this party, it has been fascinating to watch the mainstream media dissect and analyze these three books, particularly as the US film casting speculation peaked this summer.  (For the record, I am thrilled with Daniel Craig, Robin Wright and newcomer Rooney Mara in the leading roles, and agree that Lisbeth is a singular enough creation to deserve a fresh face in the role.) 

Much has been made of the violence in the books, especially sexual violence.   The books are unquestionably graphic, but not out of range for contemporary thrillers (see Chelsea Cain’s Gretchen Lowell series, for example) – I wonder if this because the books are perceived/marketed as more ‘literary’ fiction, and are consequently reaching an audience less accustomed to the extremes of some genre fiction. 

I found some subtle differences in the structure of the books that vary from American-style thrillers.  The first book (…Dragon Tattoo) starts slowly and presents much seemingly irrelevant backstory on Swedish industry, financial journalism and the three leading characters, all of which comes together when looking at  the trilogy as a whole.  Additionally, Dragon Tattoo is largely Mikael’s story, with Lisbeth in a critical supporting role.  In second book (…Played With Fire) and especially the third (…Hornet’s Nest), we realize that this has been Lisbeth’s story all along.  It is refreshing to read a well-plotted, well-paced crime novel that does not dumb itself down or make assumptions about the attention span of the reader.   And I have come to think of the

books as one story, packaged in three parts.

If only there were seven more…

The Wake of Forgiveness

 

Bruce Machart’s forthcoming novel (to be released in October 2010) has been garnering lots of positive buzz, and it is well-written with some striking imagery, but the themes are so bleak and depressing that I struggled to finish.   Set in a community of Czech immigrants in 1890s Texas, the novel chronicles the struggles of the Skala family, moving through thirty years of their life.  Cruel patriarch Vaclav Skala supplements his farming income with racehorses, with his motherless sons literally taking their place in the plow harness. 

I wanted to like this book a lot more, but the darkness and violent emotion of the narrative overtake the high-quality prose.  (Advance copy thanks to the publisher and netGalley)

This book got me to wondering…why the dark themes, why the implication that suffering equals quality in literary fiction?  Why is lighter, more escapist, or comedic fiction seen as inherently less worthy?  Don’t even get me started on genre fiction and its perceived merit.

My personal taste runs to larger than life fiction most of the time.  I don’t want to read hyper-realistic domestic drama – I can look all around me for that.  I love bloody thrillers and lush historical romance.   I love quirky social-history nonfiction and the occasional celebrity memoir.  I actually have not read a lot of the ‘classics’ – and though I agree that there are books that stand the test of time, isn’t it presumptuous to label something a classic?   Dickens was considered crass commercial serially published fiction in his time…who is to say that Stephen King or Jodi Picoult or Alexander McCall Smith won’t be on high school reading lists a few decades from now?

Summer Critters

No, this blog will not be all deep literary thoughts….

Though the summer isn’t quite over, I wanted to chronicle some of the wildlife that visited the Clark-Norton estate over the past few months…..

Most interesting was the gray fox (a female, I suspect), which made several appearances in late May/early June.  The first time I saw her, she slipped out from behind the little house, and my early-morning brain wanted it to be one of the neighborhood cats.  Later, she tended to materialize under the clothesline or in Ruth’s side yard.  One memorable night, she barked in the driveway at about ten o’clock.  For those who haven’t heard them, a gray fox has a distinctly unsettling voice, sharp and quick.  The fox also dashed through my neighbors’ backyard (giving their German shorthaired pointer quite a thrill) one Sunday morning.  After a couple of weeks, the sightings ceased (presumably, the kits had left the den) and the only carnivores to be found were of the Domestic Shorthair persuasion.

Nothing was planted in the raised beds this year, so woodchuck appearances were minimal, though one naïve youngster emerged from the thicket as I was reading on the deck one afternoon and practically struck up a conversation.

The skunk population is all too healthy, with plenty of activity spotted in the yard and in Pondicherry Park.  One spring night, a skunk sprayed on the deck under Ruth’s kitchen window.  FYI, when the spray is that close, it ceases smelling like ‘skunk’ and smells like something burning.  The scent remained in the deck boards for two full weeks.

It was a fairly typical bird year, though the wrens did not nest as they have in years past.  The catbirds raised two clutches of young (with a second-round juvenile seen just today),  and there were plenty of blue jays as well.  The hummingbirds did not really kick in until August, but were lots of fun to watch.  I noticed a preference for dark pink flowers over the traditional red, and they visited the geraniums readily.

Best of all, bug season was minimal!

The Death and Life of Monterey Bay

This is a great little hidden gem of nature/cultural studies by Stephen Palumbi & Carolyn Sotka from Island Press (forthcoming in December 2010). The book chronicles the natural history of San Francisco’s Monterey Bay from its discovery in the 18^th century to the present day, culminating with the construction of the world-class Monterey Bay Aquarium.

There is much to like here, and the writing is excellent, moving smoothly from science to history to sociology and back again.  The natural bounty of the bay, in the form of otters, whaling, abalone, sardines and the self-contained kelp ecosystem, illustrates the evolution and decline of the bay over the past two centuries.  Cultural themes are examined as well in the form of the story of the Pacific Grove colony and the sardine canning industry, inspiration for John Steinbeck’s ‘Cannery Row’.

Throughout the book, the authors single out historical figures, from Steinbeck to the remarkable Dr. Mayor Julia Platt (who more than merits a stand-alone biography), a scientist-turned-politician who first set aside protected areas in the bay in the early 20^th century.

The aquarium literally sprang from the ruins of the canneries in the late 1970s, and the tale of its development is thoroughly told in the last third of the book.

Surprisingly absorbing and well-researched, this book deserves a large audience and  is well worth seeking out, though I expect it will find the most shelf space in academic or large public libraries.  (Advance copy courtesy of the publisher and netGalley – photos not seen)