Lunatic Writer's Blog

BOOK REVIEW: PEACE by RICHARD BAUSCH

8/13/2013

Bausch is a powerful and skilled writer. In “Peace” we follow the fortunes of four American soldiers climbing up an Italian mountain on a reconnaissance mission in 1944. The weather is miserable. Heavy never ending rain. They enlist the help (forced help really) of an Italian peasant who may or may not be a Fascist sympathizer. The men are cold, wet, homesick, cranky and expecting to be shot at, at any moment. Bausch makes us feel the cold, the wind, the sore feet and the bad dreams of each of these soldiers. He makes vivid the necessarily narrow focus of these men’s existence and delves into the ethical dilemmas they face as soldiers on foreign soil. Within this dark and unforgiving universe Bausch still manages to give his protagonist a chance to find “peace”, ephemeral though it may be.

This is very impressive writing. I look forward to reading more of Bausch’s work.

8/10

BOOK REVIEW: MAGNIFICENCE by Lydia Millet

8/12/2013

Magnificence is not magnificent. I say this after reading through half the novel. I can go no further. I do not make this judgement lightly, especially upon an author whom, not long ago, I professed to be my favourite new writer.

In Magnificence, Millet continues to follow the fortunes of characters introduced two books ago. In How the Dead Dream we first meet ‘T’, and unlikely capitalist hero, who ends up being lost in the jungles of Belize. In the second book, Ghost Lights, we follow the fortunes of Hal who goes out to look for him.

Finally, in Magnificence, in great psychological detail, we delve into the life of Susan, Hal’s husband. Susan blames herself for her husband’s death. Logically the blame is indirect, at best. Nevertheless, again and again she refers to herself as a murderer, to the point where, as a reader, I cannot help declaring “the lady doth protest too much.” I do not like Susan and do not sympathize with her angst. I like her boss, T, much more, but he has only a small role to play in Magnificence. I like Susan’s daughter, Casey, but again, she is a minor character.

The great plot-changer in the first half of Magnificence comes when Susan inherits a great stately home in Pasadena. Its scores of rooms are adorned with the heads of wild animals from all over the world. Susan is both haunted and entranced by these heads. They seem to have deep symbolic meaning for her. But after 136 pages, I have to ask myself, what has really HAPPENED in the book?

Reluctantly, I have to say that, for me at least, this is a BORING book.

Of course, I have only read half of it. Maybe breath-taking revelations are just around the corner. Maybe the pace picks up mightily. But honestly, Lydia Millet, how patient do you expect your readers to be?

With Magnificence I hope Millet has at least put an end to this trilogy. The first book was wonderful, the second, pretty good. But now it’s time to move on to new material.

MOVIE REVIEW: Frances Ha

8/9/2013

To call a movie “heart-warming” would be almost the kiss of death in some circles. It would imply a kids’ movie, or at least a story involving a lost and shaggy dog. “Frances Ha” is neither of things.

Frances, played brilliantly by Greta Gerwig, is a young woman living in New York trying, not very successfully, to make her way as a dancer. Despite set-back after set-back, including what seems like the loss of her best friend, Sophie, Frances refuses to be crushed by circumstance.

Very poignant for me is a montage of little scenes, where Frances returns to visit her parents in California. For Thanksgiving, I think. How perfectly it captures the sense of disconnection Frances feels. Here is a world she can never return to. Familiar yet alien. She is surrounded by familiar voices and familiar conversations but none of them seem relevant anymore. In this part of the movie, and in all parts really, the writing is superb. Every bit of dialogue seems authentic. One cannot imagine wanting to change a single word. How extraordinary to discover that Gerwig not only gives us a dazzling performance as the film’s central character, but is also co-writer of the movie!

It is impossible for the audience not to be sucked in to Frances’s world. We root for her, almost from the beginning. An underdog, but not in any clichéd Hollywood sense. She is a layered and quirky character. “Undateable” as one of her close friends likes to call her. Though clearly everyone watching her exploits thinks she is extremely dateable and only needs to find the right person.

Most surprising and wonderful of all, however, is that this rather strange romantic-comedy is really not about sex at all, neither between man and woman nor woman and woman. It is about friendship. It is a hymn to best friends who, in this case, just happen to be two women. And how beautifully the tale is told. One leaves the cinema feeling good for Frances and optimistic about the possibilities of human relationships in general.

Bravo, Frances!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frances_Ha

MOVIE REVIEW: Much Ado About Nothing

8/2/2013

I’m not a ‘purist’ when it comes to film adaptations of Shakespeare’s plays. I don’t expect the actors to be forever prancing around in tights and spouting Laurence Olivier-flavoured oratory. But ‘modern’ adaptations can sometimes inject just a little too much of the director’s personal vision for my taste. This is not at all the case in Joss Whedon’s “Much Ado About Nothing”.

It’s a sparkling interpretation. Fast paced (with such a script, how could it not be?) Uproariously funny, yet with a hint of tragedy in the wings. Amy Acker is wonderful as Beatrice and Alexis Denisof equally good as Benedick.

The movie is shot entirely in black and white, a reference apparently to the screwball comedies of the 30’s and 40’s such as “Bringing Up Baby” which I, for one, have always loved.

Watching the movie in Nelson’s newly refurbished movie theatre was a joy. Especially hearing the belly-laughs from fellow spectators as they watched Benedick’s strange contortions, as he struggles to keep out of sight while overhearing his friends speak of Beatrice’s unexpected love for him. I gasped and laughed simultaneously as I watched Beatrice, laundry basket under her arm, crash down some stairs the moment she learns of Benedick’s equally unexpected love for her.

How marvelous to see that old William hasn’t lost his touch.

Any production of Much Ado must give ample opportunity for Dogberry and his crew of misfits to shine, and Whedon doesn’t disappoint. Nathan Fillion admirably avoids the temptation to make Dogberry quirky. His Dogberry is utterly serious and sincere which makes his malapropisms doubly funny. In his very last scene, he and Verges try to make a dignified exit, only to approach their car and realize that the keys are in the vehicle and they have locked themselves out! A bit I’m sure Shakespeare himself would have used if he could.

I very much enjoyed Kenneth Branagh’s 1993 production of Much Ado which was very different in style, yet I can’t say I enjoyed Whedon’s less. Is there a greater tribute one could give to Shakespeare than to declare his work capable of multiple interpretations, each equally good? Bravo, Mr. Whedon. You have added to the canon of Shakespearean film a fine movie, rewarding both for the novice and connoisseur.

BOOK REVIEW: The Glass Seed

7/25/2013

Pearkes has written a remarkable book. It is moving, lyrical, and always powerful. In it the author has shared her most intimate thoughts about life, death and love, set against the context of her mother’s losing battle with Alzheimer’s and her own search for meaning.

Dementia, in all its forms, is a devastating disease. It leads Pearkes to ask “Is it possible that Alzheimer’s disease has risen as an illness of our time because of something we need to learn? Relinquish the mind. Let go of the hollow husk of material being. Embrace a power beyond human accomplishment. Accept mortality. Then see what happens.”

I will forever remember the scenes Pearkes describes where she sits with her mother, a mother no longer resembling the woman she grew up with, who nurtured her, who was strong and in control, and who now can no longer even mutter an intelligent sentence, nor recognize her own daughter. And still Pearkes holds her, sings a nursery rhyme to her, loves the pre-verbal essence that is still her mother.

It is almost too deep a moment to comment on.

There is a stage in the illness when her mother still manages to speak in short sentences, though many seem nonsensical. On one occasion, Pearkes’s mother reminisces about her husband and says of him “Something was in there. In him. I wished he could get it out. It made him so unhappy.” Then, a moment later, she looks directly at her daughter and, in preternatural wisdom, blurts out, “You are like that too.”

This book challenges us with the question ‘are we more than the sum of our memories’? Clearly Pearkes thinks we are, and her exploration of that question is multifaceted and poignant. “The mind,” she concludes, “for all its potential cannot be depended on the way the heart can.”

I think of St. Exupery’s Little Prince perched on his asteroid, and of his fox and the snake which will help him make his final journey.

Goodnight sweet prince.

The Glass Seed is a book of sweet and sad wonders.

Before Midnight--Movie Review

7/21/2013

Two thumbs up for this one. One thumb for Ethan Hawke and another for Julie Delpy.

I have seen few movies in recent memory that were more clearly and appropriately a duet piece. Imagine: a movie about two people (Jesse and Celine) whose running conversation together make up 90% of the story. What a concept! How foreign to everything screenwriters learn is necessary to make a good movie. Two talking heads going at it non-stop. But such heads, such conversation and, most importantly, such chemistry.

True “chemistry” between actors is an overly-used adjective and, to my mind, a much rarer phenomenon than some critics would have us believe. In a movie like Before Midnight, the chemistry threatens to boil over.

Fans of this trilogy of movies: first, Before Sunrise, then Before Sunset, and now Before Midnight, will know that the chemistry between Hawke and Delpy seems to have been present from their first moments together on film. But now it has reached an even higher level. Perhaps a more ‘mature’ level would be a better way of expressing it. For now, instead of young starry-eyed lovers meeting on a train, and impulsively deciding to get off together in Vienna, we meet a middle-aged couple, driving home from a Greek regional airport with two blond-haired daughters sleeping in the back seat of their car.

Should they wake the kids, they wonder? They had promised to stop at a nearby archaeological ruin, but it would be a shame to wake them. They could always tell them it was closed, but that they’ll stop on the way back instead. Anybody out there had a conversation like this before?

If there is a theme to Before Midnight, it has to do with exploring the nature of marriage and long-term relationships. Is a long-term relationship even possible? Three different couples, varying in age, give interesting answers to this question and the question, as posed, begins to haunt our protagonists as well. As they walk together down the road to a hotel, Celine asks, “if you were to meet me on that train today, for the first time, would you ask me get off with you?” It’s not a question Jesse is keen to answer but, when pushed, he answers in the affirmative. Delpy’s character is skeptical, and her fiery French temper flares. What should have been a very romantic evening together quickly turns into a no-holds-barred fight.

Without wanting to give away too much, I am happy to report, that under the influence of the Greek seaside, a glass of wine, and a deep commitment to the "chemistry" that has always defined their relationship, a warm light shines at the end of the tunnel.

Many viewers must be wondering if they can expect yet another movie in the series, nine of ten years down the road. What would this one be called? Before Hip Replacement?

MOVIE REVIEW: The Reluctant Fundamentalist

7/2/2013

At a key point in this political thriller a young woman, reflecting on the very recent terrorist attack on New York’s twin towers, asks her Pakistani boyfriend, “What could make them do such a thing?” Her Pakistani boyfriend replies in irritation, “How should I know?”

Essentially this movie is an exploration of this question, which I’m sure has rattled around in the heads of many North Americans for the last decade. The story is old largely from the P.O.V. of the Pakistani boyfriend Changez (hard ‘g’) played brilliantly by Riz Ahmed. .

Changez grows up in Pakistan in an educated family. His father is a well known, published poet. Like many young Pakistanis of his generation, the dream of going to America, where one can make anything of one’s life, looms large in Changez’s imagination. He wins a scholarship. He graduates from Princeton. Soon after, he is hired by one of Wall Street’s finest, played by Kiefer Sutherland who—to his credit—plays an uncharacteristically unsympathetic role in this movie

On Wall St. Changez’s sharp analytical skills are used to help companies “increase their value” which is largely code for firing large numbers of employees.

Changez is very good at his job; he is well on his way to being a poster child for the American dream. Then 9/11 happens. Suddenly it no longer matters that Changez is brilliant, or that he works on Wall St., or that he is married to the idea of unbridled capitalism as much as anyone. Returning from a business meeting, security guards at the airport pull him aside and strip-search him. Clients at work become hesitant to use his services. He is judged by his skin colour and facial features, not by his beliefs or actions.

Changez’s moral crisis comes to a head when he sent to Istanbul with the task of dismembering a centuries-old publishing company which has been losing money. Changez confesses to the publisher that his own father is a poet. The publisher, with sad, dark eyes, looks up and says to Changez, “You should be ashamed…”

Within twenty-four hours Changez quits his job and quits America. Back in Lahore, he begins teaching at a university and quickly (and quite unfairly) is painted as a dangerous radical, in some way implicated in a recent kidnapping of an American academic (who we finally learn is actually and intelligence agent.)

Besides the extraordinary acting of the movie’s principal, Liev Schreiber turns in a very convincing performance as Bobby, the man drafted by American intelligence to confront Changez. The close-ups of Schreiber and Ahmed discussing life-and-death issues in a Lahore tea shop are riveting.

Kudos to the movie’s director, Mira Nair. This is a very thoughtful script, dealing with big issues and told in a most engaging way. In part it is a plea for dialogue, civility, even love. “I am a lover of America,” our protagonist states; there is more than irony in this statement. And later when talking earnestly to the Schreiber character, he says, “Remember, looks can be deceiving. I ask only one thing of you, Bobby. First listen to my whole story.”

This movie is an American-Pakistan co-production. Bravo. Despite Rotten Tomatoes inexplicably low rating for this movie, I believe it is a must-see flick for anyone seeking a deeper understanding of the Muslim world, fundamentalism, and the West’s sometimes unwitting aggravation of international tensions. I hear the book is pretty good too!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Reluctant_Fundamentalist

movie trailer

http://youtu.be/xfC45oq_drU

Guy Consolmagno & the Vatican Observatory

3/31/2013

Brother Guy--A Jesuit and research astronomer--echoes my feelings about the relationship between science and religion very eloquently. At one point he reminds listeners that Scripture says: "God so loved the world that he gave us his Son." Brother Guy emphasizes the fact that it is the "world" that God loves, the physical, real, rational, open-for-investigation world. We are part of this world and, like God himself, are expected to love it. Hence science. Hence environmentalism. Hence all charity and love. Amen.

Br. Consolmagno and part of the Vatican meteorite collection, courtesy Kevin Nickerson

(Originally broadcast on CBC's Quirks and Quarks on April 15, 2006)

Science and religion are often seen in conflict, but that's something Brother Guy Consolmagno would like to put behind us. He's certainly put it behind him. Brother Guy is the Curator of Meteorites of the Vatican Observatory in Arizona, and an accomplished planetary scientist, and he sees no tension at all between his science and his religion. He also thinks many scientists with religious beliefs feel the same way. The conflict, he suspects, is a result of people who know too little about both science and religion.

Click BELOW for the CBC interview with Brother Guy and learn what the Roman Catholic Church really thinks about science.

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VATT--the Vatican Observatory, near Tucson, Arizona.

Ready for more? Here what the Vatican Observatory's chief astronomer, Jose Gabriel Funes has to say about the possible existence of
extra-terrestrial intelligence.

BOOK REVIEW: The Dangerous Animals Club

2/3/2013

THE DANGEROUS ANIMALS CLUB
by Stephen Tobolowsky

This book was given to me by my daughter and fiancé who are both actors working out of Toronto. Knowing my own modest background in theatre, they thought I might find it a good read and I did. But not exactly for the expected reasons.

As advertised, Tobolowsky (Tobo) gives us a quirky account of his rise to the status of one of Hollywood’s most successful (yet anonymous) character actors. Tobo has appeared in numerous movies and television series. I remember him best for his appearances in Glee and Heroes. I was reassured to read that, as an actor, he was just as mystified by the plot of Heroes as I was, as a viewer.

Tobo begins his book by recalling his boyhood in Oak Cliff, Texas. There, he and a friend make it their mission to scour the neighbourhood in hope of capturing and bringing home the most dangerous animals they can find. It’s a funny story, but maybe a little misleading as the title of the book.

Most of the book follows Tobo’s long and meandering struggle to make it as a professional actor. Some of the anecdotes he tells are very amusing, such as when he is performing for a Santa Monica theatre company for children. This is Tobo’s first professional gig and he has had to memorize his lines phonetically since he doesn’t know Spanish. The moment of truth arrives; he is supposed to say, Pasa, jovincita (“Come in, little girl”). Instead he blurts out, Peto, jovincita which means “Fart, little girl.” This brings the down the house as such mistakes are apt to do with an audience of eight-year-olds. He is fired after the performance.

But Stephen Tobolowsky is nothing, if not resilient. Despite many setbacks and many disappointments, he maintains his sense of humour, his sense of optimism and, ultimately—and this is what I like best—his sense of gratitude.

At one point in his life, Stephen has a bad accident and breaks his neck. For nine months he is in a brace and is effectively removed from the world of auditions. Somehow, near the end of this period, his agent lands him an audition for a role in Heroes. He arrives at the building where auditions are supposed to take place, still wearing his brace. He’s afraid to take it off. After such a long time out of the loop, he’s nervous about the whole processing of auditioning.

When Tobo finally is let into the building he finds it virtually deserted. No one is expecting him. It turns out the auditions are the next day… One could easily imagine an actor throwing a hissy-fit at such a point. But Tobo just takes breath, reminds himself how lucky he is to even be in the acting industry and drives placidly back home. Next day he returns like nothing has happened, and he gets the part.

It is such incidents as this that really make the book for me: moments when we come to appreciate Stephen’s humanity, his good heart, his openness to new possibilities.

Tobo did indeed teach me many new and interesting things about the acting industry. For example, I learned the difference between stage acting, which I understand, and movie acting which I do not. It helped explain why I wasn’t hired, even as an extra, the one time I auditioned for a movie!

Many times I laughed out loud while reading this book: once, for example at learning his mother’s advice as Tobo rents his first apartment in L.A. “Stephen, whatever you do, don’t go into porno.” But I also sighed too, in sharing Stephen’s disappointments and regrets. By the end of the book, I am left feeling I know far more than a bunch of funny stories. I have come to know the man, Stephen Tobolowsky, and he’s someone I like and someone I wish well.

Here’s what he writes to start of his acknowledgements at the end of the book: “To my wife, Ann, for the countless hours, the love, the crises weathered at every stage of our lives together—including this book.”

What’s not to like?

A very solid, 7/10.

More Reviews

How the Dead Dream: Book Review

1/30/2013

Before reading this book, I had no idea who this author was. Yet, within a dozen pages, I was coming to understand that I was reading something quite special. The fact that I should be so impressed by Millet’s writing is all the more amazing when I reflect that the protagonist of the book is a devoted capitalist—hardly a person I would normally be drawn to.   Throughout most of the book, he is simply referred to a ‘T’. Yet T’s transformation is both poetic and spectacular.

As a boy T’s principle passion is to ‘collect’ money and stash it under his pillow at night. He receives a visceral thrill as he studies the lithographic etching on the American dollar bill. In college, he is a friend to all, but intimate with no one. It is ‘T’ who is the designated driver, ‘T’ who sorts out his friend’s indiscretions and messy relationships. ‘T’ himself avoids all youth’s usual excesses, in favour of focusing on the market, real estate and mapping out his destiny. He is enamoured with a vision of high rises, new highways, bright lights, holiday resorts, retirement homes in the desert, the creation of which will become the source of his material wealth and self-worth.

It is worth noting that the protagonist of “How the Dead Dream” is a male, and the writer female. It is the most convincing cross-gender writing I have ever come across. Never once did I doubt the authenticity of the male voice of ‘T’.

But what makes this novel so good? The writing to be sure, which is extremely lyrical at times, and the psychological insights Millet has which are quite breath-taking. In the end, what is most impressive, is the journey she takes the reader on. We meet ‘T’ arch-capitalist, without a soul it seems, at first, but then gradually we see a change take place. It begins when he is driving at night and hits a coyote. He stops his car to check on it. It’s not yet dead. He feels obligated to carry it off road—even though he doesn’t know what to expect—after all, it might bite him. He stays with it until it takes its last breath. That moment changes him, though he doesn’t realize it at the time.

Later ‘T’ who, till this time, has never surrendered himself to anyone emotionally meets Beth, the love of his life, but tragedy strikes, and that relationships lasts only a short time. His father, a man in his sixties, suddenly, and without explanation, leaves his wife. ‘T’ does his best to console his mother, and has her live with him. She develops early dementia. The scenes of ‘T’, the son, speaking with a mother who doesn’t even recognize him, in fact thinks he is a criminal, are heart-wrenching.

Quite unexpectedly—to me, at least—‘T’ then develops an obsession with endangered animals, going to great lengths to be in their company. For him, they come to represent the world condition, the ultimate fate of each individual and each species, creatures near their end and alone, desperately alone. Some of the novel’s most memorable moments take place as ‘T’ stands eye-to-eye with some of these forlorn and mighty creatures.

This might help explain the otherwise quite obscure cover of the book: it is a close up of an elephant’s eye.

I did not read Millet’s book in one sitting—I never do, but I could very easily imagine myself making an exception for this book. It was that compelling, that beautifully written, that filled with compassion, longing and even humour. It’s one of the best things I’ve read in years.

9/10.

Only the “classics of literature would get a higher rating from me. I have a new favourite author!