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The Friday Article Roundup

The FAR is starting to wrap things up

The best pop culture writing of the week? We have you covered.

This week, you will wind down with:

  • Bad books
  • Radio marathons
  • Late style
  • Miserable memoir
  • Sad memorials

It’s not too late to e-mail the FAR! Send articles to be featured throughout the next week to magpiesmedia [at] gmail, post articles from the past week below for discussion and Have a Happy Friday!

Lithub rounds up the meanest literary burns of the year, including Johanna Thomas-Corr on Woody Allen’s What’s With Baum? for The Times:
All the best sentences have been crammed into the first page and all the drama happens in the last 20. In between, there’s a nice use of ‘zombie’ as a verb and an interesting paragraph involving Goebbels. But most of it is kvetching and ogling … Writing, as with all art forms, is an act of noticing, and writers are judged on where and how deeply they choose to train their gaze. What’s with Baum? is an absolute failure of noticing. Place Allen in any room, he’ll see less than anyone else.

At Christmas A Go Go, Jon Solomon describes his work putting together a 25(!)-hour radio program for Christmas Day:
The marathon means a ton to me. I certainly didn’t set out to make it such a huge part of my life when I first went on the air at age 15, but I understand the importance it has now to so many folks beyond just the Delaware Valley, from those spending Christmas alone to those who grew up listening with their parents who now share the broadcast with their own children. This year a special Best of the Marathon show will air after the proper show so I have time to include more old favorites as last year’s broadcast was entirely new finds and thematic sets (such as Ramones-o-Clock at 12:34 am ET, The All-Fall set on Christmas Day or Lindstrom’s 40:00+ hypnotic rendition of Little Drummer Boy which airs just after listener favorite Snaildartha: The Story of Jerry The Christmas Snail during the most-listened-to two hour stretch of 10 am – noon East Coast time).

At his substack Vintage Violence, Eddie Averill considers Ella McCay as a line’s end for the analysis of “late style”:
While this critical trend has led to some fantastic and entertaining writing, podcasts, X posts, etc, it has also led to some incredibly lazy praise of bad films, using the phrase “late style” as a crutch without even considering what it means. Is “late style” even a necessarily positive phrase? Is a senior-citizen director that doesn’t know how the internet works making films of “late style?” Or of ignorance? What Said calls “unresolved contradiction” seems quite rare to find among Hollywood studio directors who have made millions and millions of dollars calling action on sets that they could, hypothetically, let their 1st AD run if they aren’t feeling up to it on that particular day.

Megan Garvey takes on the self-pity and special pleading in Olivia Nuzzi’s American Canto:
Over the years, I have grown tired of vulnerability the way it is upheld as some kind of great achievement; if a piece of art is vulnerable, then that means it is good. I’ve come to hate how nearly synonymous the word is to “victimhood” — how, when you hear it, you immediately think of prey. (“Susceptible to physical or emotional attack or harm,” as per the Oxford dictionary; similar: “in danger,” “powerless,” “exposed.”) I have come to prefer candor, both in writing and in life. Where one uses vulnerability in service of pity, one uses candor in service of the truth. I should say that I do not worship the truth on grounds of moral righteousness; generally, I just believe it makes for better stories.

And Wil Wheaton remembers the generosity and kindness of Rob Reiner:
When we shot the scene with Gordie and River at the body, he talked with me about how his own dad made him feel, created a safe place for me to feel all of Gordie’s (and my) emotions, and turn that into a performance that still resonates with audiences. In a way, in that movie, I was him and he was me and we were both Gordie LaChance. I was hoping that we would see each other next year, at something celebrating Stand By Me turning 40, so I could see him and properly thank him for everything he gave me — in my career, sure (it only exists because of Rob), but in my life, as well. If Rob hadn’t shown me unconditional affection and approval, I wouldn’t have known what I was missing at home. He was a big part of my coming of age in that way, too.