The Friday Article Roundup
The best pop culture writing of the week? We have you covered.
This week, you will wind down with:
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.
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More articles by Dave Shutton
Double Features
Considering the comedy in The Phoenician Scheme and The Naked Gun.
The Friday Article Roundup
Going on the record with the best pop culture writing of the week.
The Friday Article Roundup
A cowardly and superstitious lot? No, the best pop culture writing of the week.
The Friday Article Roundup
No kings, of pop or otherwise, just the best pop culture writing of the week
The Friday Article Roundup
Out of the mists of history, the best pop culture writing of the week.
Department of
Conversation
What Did We Watch?
Seinfeld, season 5 episodes – “The Sniffing Accountant” was up there with the funniest episodes for me, maybe lacking a strong enough presence to rank among the very best episodes but Kramer’s ridiculous sting operation and George’s interview for a job selling bras were both incredible. “The Bris” felt more middle tier to me, the “pig-man” stuff is pretty funny and the Godfather ending is well done but otherwise I didn’t find this one particularly memorable.
“presence” should have said “premise”.
Kramer drinking beer while smoking a cigarette might be the single thing I’ve laughed the hardest at in the show so far.
Hahaha that Kramer bit is amazing. He was a famously exacting actor on set, getting mad at the rest of the cast for breaking/fucking up, but as a physical comedian he is so incredibly precise, it takes enormous skill to fuck up something that completely, so I see why he got upset.
“Here’s to feeling good all the time.”
Kid Galahad – The 0riginal, not the Elvis remake. Corrupt boxing promoter Edward G. Robinson finds a farmer turned bellhop who knocked down the heavyweight champ without knowing who it was. And takes the kid under his wing, though is Edward G. planning to make the kid a champ, or a chump? Entertaining melodrama, a bit cliched in terms of a romance between the boxer and the promoter’s innocent sister, but the boxing parts are well done (under Michael Curtiz’s direction). Robinson is solid as is Humphrey Bogart as the champ’s even more crooked promoter, but the film belongs to Bette Davis as Edward G’s girlfriend, who grows disillusioned with the whole thing (and also falls for the boxer).
The Practice, “Appeal and Denial” – Persevering, even as his client has a near-breakdown in prison, Bobby manages to convince the court that his client should get a new trial. Four weeks of this case, and there’s not much to add. Meanwhile, Helen is prosecuting a man for pushing his wife down the stairs, only the wife recants her testimony. Helen is sure there was that level of abuse, and it’s only after she discovers a record of injuries to the man’s first wife and daughter that she realizes the second wife wants to stay with the man to protect the daughter since otherwise custody will eventually revert to him. Interesting dilemma, though this sort of diminishes Rebeeca’s role. And finally, we learn that both Lindsey and Ellenor are expecting. The latter will lead to explorations of single parenting and sperm donation, and both pregnancies parallel the actual pregnancies of the actresses.
Frasier, “Don Juan in Hell,” part one – Frasier returns from his vacation in Belize, wembling over whether to stay with Patricia Clarkson or to try again with Jean Smart, asking everyone for advice, and finally dumping Clarkson without explanation. Only he’s accidentally given Smart’s ex-husband advice to go back to her. Which is where we leave off. We are in very familiar ground here, but the show admits that Frasier always does this, and where things go in part two are going to be a bit different. Worth noting that this was the first episode to air after 9/11, and has a memorial card for David Angell and his wife, killed on one of the planes. (Niles and Daphne’s son would be named for him._
The Great – Now up to S2E3 and it feels like the show’s adjusting still to the new status quo. Both the court and the writing are dealing with the reality that Catherine isn’t as fun as Peter when she’s in charge. Not as violent and unstable! But not as fun, and this makes for a slightly less dramatic show. We do have Catherine making compromises and the beat of Peter knowing her better than she knows him. (“I am not as ruthless as you are.” “You really believe that, don’t you?”) Plus Peter’s long, dark, extremely funny night of the soul with his mummified mother that’s a showcase for Hoult’s physical comedy and Peter, not the most introspective guy, coming to grips with his mother being a horrible, abusive parent and (bit by bit) that he is himself an abusive, selfish asshole. Douglas Hodge has always been good as Velementov and his ability to be honest with Peter and give him a reality check brings out the best in his performance. “You care nothing for other people – for their pain.” If this isn’t quite as tense and chaotic a show as Season 1 (yet), I can still enjoy it a lot.
Babylon 5, Season Three, Episode Eighteen, “Walkabout”
Sheridan going out for a walk out in space is very good as an image, and a funny pun on the title. Franklin’s story is a fairly straightforward one of doctor-style arrogance being thrown back in his face; the belief in trying to fix everything, which is really trying ot control everything, and he gets both a) the recognition that he might not know what the fuck he’s talking about and more importantly b) that other people might have a better idea of their needs and goals than he does.
More interesting to me is the new Kosh; it immediately makes me miss the old Kosh, and the insecurity and fear under the mystery that he had. Of course, I’m intrigued to see where the new Kosh goes. Least interesting in the episode is the humans and Narn getting ahead of the Centauri and Shadows, but that’s just one of those ‘homework’ moments in the show I’ve gotten used to.
There’s a gag about every race having a version of Swedish meatballs, which is lifted right from a Hitchhiker’s Guide gag about gin and tonic.
What Did We Read?
Been poking through a reread of IT, it is funny how The Stand is more epic (especially the uncut version) but this is the real maximalist King, there is so much here in text alone but also Boomer psychology (it is very interesting how The 60s are completely toggled over, but the structural interplay between 80s and 50s is superb). And while King’s writing has been sharper it is just wild how he is constantly throwing out setpieces that get under the skin, they are generally mining the same vein of “kid goes somewhere creepy, gets attacked” but damned if it doesn’t work with the accumulated details and momentum each time. And the theme of parental abuse or fucking-up is enormous, the Losers have grown up childless and this is maybe not a choice but it seems like a consequence.
One things that sticks out is Mike’s relationship with his father, which is largely loving and understanding and also creates the most three-dimensional Black characters King’s written (though John Coffey’s little monologue about being ready to die in The Green Mile, exhausted by his telepathy and hyper-empathy, gets to me as a fellow “empath”).
Here is something wild that I did not pick up on until I saw it mentioned elsewhere — the whole early sequence with Mike and his dad (which is excellent and a huge counter to the above; perhaps part of Mike staying is how he has the only decent relationship with his folks) contains no overt indications they’re black. Possibly some dialect but it also just scans as rural (and is completely drowned out by the shit Richie Tozier is up to in that department, sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesh). There is nothing sneaky in retrospect either, the section is largely about farm stuff without a lot of school interactions that would surely give things away so King can pull it off, but it’s damn subtle.
Same books as last week, the most recent Inspector Rebus and the bio of WWII “art spy” Rose Valland. Both are quite good. One odd thing about the bio, though. The writer always calls Valland by her first name. And does that sometimes with other women. Something about that feels off.
I haven’t had a chance to mention this, but in 2008 ago, when I was last in Edinborough, some friends and I pub-crawled to some of the iconic locations in the Rebus books and had some fun conversations with the locals about their takes on American politics, which were getting interesting considering the rise of Obama. Literary themed excursions in that city always end up in digressive discussions and samplings of beer and/or Scotch whiskey. Highly recommended.
Having neither been there nor seen anything set there, my vision of the city is entirely from these books.
Halfway through Mark Harris’ Pictures from a Revolution, which is incredibly readable, thorough, and entertaining, going through the making of multiple 1967 films, including clusterfuck Dr. Doolittle and In The Heat of the Night, all the while threading Bonnie & Clyde’s slow progress before it arguably cements the creation of New Hollywood. Things you learn about include Stanley Kramer’s misguided liberalism, Warren Beatty’s fuckboy brilliance (arguably creating the role inhabited by Tom Cruise and future film stars as star-auteur-producers and upending the system in the process), Jane Fonda’s political awakening on the set of an Otto Preminger film, and Rex Harrison being not just an alcoholic egocentric asshole, but an antisemite, tormenting Anthony Newley on the set of Doolittle.
A fellow poet recommended Kenneth Patchen’s poems so I’m slowly touring a selected collection. Apocalyptic, devastating work largely in free verse that feels up my own creative alley.
Pictures from a Revolution is certainly well-focused. As you point out, you really get to know the inner workings of these films. But such a strength also is kind of a flaw, in that the book comes off as rather myopic in that it’s only looking at the films nominated for Best Picture, and thus leaves out films that helped make 1967 such an important year for cinema, such as Point Blank, Two for the Road, and Weekend (Godard), to name a few.
I think scaling down the focus is probably for the best: I can’t say Two for the Road is a film that *changes* moviemaking the way Doctor Doolittle and Bonnie & Clyde did, for better or worse.
Harris has a sublime ear for anecdote, which is a great asset for any nonfiction author. I sometimes disagree with him on the actual movies (I’m still a little pissed at how thoroughly he misreads It’s a Wonderful Life in the oft-magnificent Five Came Back), but I love his guided tours through the long timelines of moviemaking and Hollywood careers. He’s such a good storyteller.
PHANTOM TICKET– Thomas Pynchon once again uses the private eye story as a template for a surrealist take on history (in this case the end of Prohibition in America and the rise of fascism in Europe). This is a particularly spry take on both the genre and its setting, which increasingly feels like a parallel universe to the known events, with supernatural cabals and modes of transportation operating on powers beyond the physical plane. Pynchon has made cinematic references before, but the colloquialisms and descriptions of light and shadow convey a system of of filmic aesthetics specific to the era it depicts. Unlike INHERENT VICE and BLEEDING EDGE, this doesn’t feel informed by personal experience, but by the world that was fading at the time of the author’s birth (Thank you, John Bruni, for awakening me to that observation). Serving as an unofficial epilogue to the universe of AGAINST THE DAY, or, if you will, a prologue to GRAVITY’S RAINBOW. This, possibly last, entry in the Pynchon canon doesn’t offer new insight into his themes, style, or worldview or sympathies with those under the control of mysterious forces, but serves as his most manic, and less convoluted, deconstruction of those tropes. In it’s brevity and hyper-caffeinated gusto, it’s probably the best introduction to his work.
Gonna have to dive deep into Pynchon’s books but I feel like it’ll change my entire personality somehow. Maybe I’ll bring Gravity’s Rainbow to my Christmas vacation.
We just picked it up at the bookstore on Friday!
It feels like one of the biggest cinematic references is to Godard’s famous saying that a film has to have a beginning, middle, and end, but not necessarily in that order. I think what’s confusing some readers is the nature of Pynchon’s game, which is that the actual start of Phantom Ticket doesn’t occur until the PI gets to Hungary; the ending happens in Chapter 35, with the remaining chapters serving as a “post-American empire” epilogue that hits hard. The book reminds me of what I’d suggest (if you take Gravity’s Rainbow out of the running) is Pynchon’s best work, Vineland, in that it looks at how fascism hides in plain sight in “moral panics,” such as Prohibition and Reagan’s “just say no” hectoring.
8 Bit Theater, Strips 0420-450, Brian Clevinger
A lot of great gags this section. This is where we first meet Sarda, the Wizard Who Did It. He really pulls out the cosmic horror aspect of the comic, being an omnipotent jackass; he sends the Light Warriors on their next quest, and there’s a great gag where he tries explaining the concept of caring to Black Mage by turning off time to do it, which takes hundreds of years in subjective time. There’s an even better one when he finally gets sick of his talking and freezes everything in the universe but BM for one second, causing molecules to rip through his body and give him immense pain, which Sarda then makes sure BM survives (“Huh. I think I’m crazy now.”). There’s ordinary cruelty, and then there’s absurdist cruelty that goes above and beyond what is conceivable. The mixture of science fiction and fantasy, coupled with the sheer pettiness of the motivation, makes this so funny to me.
“So you’re an omnipotent jackass?” / “While I’m sure that’s one way to characterize it, I must defend myself by saying that from my point of view, it’s funny.”
There’s a great moment where BM, finally fed up (again), decides to bring Thief with him out to a distance and blow up a volcano next to RM and Fighter. Thief is both horrified and honoured to be included in the plan, until BM explains that the explosion should kill them both too, except BM will cast feather fall on himself. The gag is pretty straightforward; the context of Thief’s emotions about this, where there’s almost a kind of sentimentality here, makes it extra funny – Thief and BM have a vague respect for each other as the intellectual comic foils of the group – they aren’t the smartest in the group, but they are the wisest.
BM, of course, misses the volcano entirely.
On this line is a great moment where we flash forward to two people talking; we don’t see them, but from context, it’s clear that one of them is BM and the other is another LW. It’s a moment of sincere reflection setting up another stupid gag, and it makes the cynical absurdity so much funnier. He could have written this story for real, and he chose not to. You can see parallels with Order Of The Stick, which did choose to tell this story for real, and is entertaining and meaningful but less funny.
RM has a moment where he re-explains something he said offscreen to Fighter. I love these inbetween moments of offscreen comedy; it builds the chemistry between the characters as we imagine how these conversations would have gone.
There’s a great moment of escalating absurdity where a dual-class ranger explains his other class is also ranger, causing Fighter and RM to go nuts (something exaggerated when RM is shown with a photoshopped version of himself behind him).
Absolutely fantastic moment where Fighter annoys BM by making bear puns, and then RM walks up and innocently makes another, driving him to a rage. Part of what makes it so funny is that RM genuinely wasn’t intentionally making a pun and had no idea what they were talking about; part of it is that BM shrugs before he starts murdering.
There’s a brilliant gag where Thief hears about a legend of a lake so poisoned by evil that glancing at it kills you. He’s annoyed by the stupidity of this, asks rhetorically if its’ supposed to be one random one, and then falls down from a brain hemmorage from the axe he was hit with a few strips before.
I am about 3/4 of the way through James by Percival Everett. I’ve heard a lot of people hate the ending so, um. We’ll see!
I’m not totally onboard with the ending but it’s not hate worthy and it is in line with what Everett is up to throughout the book.
Having just finished it an hour or so ago, I would agree. I think the biggest flaw for me is that the careful pacing of the first 2/3 or so just go straight out the window. I keep thinking ‘I wonder what’ll happen next’ and then realizing, oh yeah, it just ended.
Came to this too late for the FAR, but another excellent piece on Reiner looking at how his NYC Jewish upbringing informed his style: https://www.gq.com/story/rob-reiners-new-york-state-of-mind
Year of the Month update!
Here’s the movies, albums, books, TV, and games from 1985 for you to write about next January.
TBD: Ruck Cohlchez: Tim and/or Fables of the Reconstruction
Jan. 2nd: Gillian Nelson: Return to Oz
Jan. 5th: Tristan J. Nankervis: Rambo: First Blood Part II
Jan. 9th: Gillian Nelson: Advice on Lice
Jan. 16th: Gillian Nelson: The Wuzzles/The Gummi Bears
Jan. 19th: Tristan J. Nankervis: The Breakfast Club
Jan. 23rd: Gillian Nelson: The Golden Girls
And there’s still time to write about anything from 1948, like these movies, albums, and books.
Dec. 20th: Lauren James: The Lottery
Jon Solomon is a genuinely good guy. He used to book shows at his house years ago, and the band I was in played a memorable show there. We opened for the indie-rock-legends-in-the-making, Rodan. Another great band, Codeine, closed; as the name suggests, their glacial waves of sound were trance inducing.
He seems really cool! And damn, he has been doing this a long time.
I have never tried to get into Codeine because I’ve heard Chris Brokaw’s solo slow/quiet stuff and it is just not my speed. Should give them a go though. But man, Brokaw ripping, by himself or with Come, is the shit, love it when it gets loud.
Reiner is a very small part of it but the Bunny Ears podcast episode with Wheaton is well worth a listen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R7VclcQlWpA
There’s some discussion of Stand By Me and Reiner seeing Gordie in Wheaton.
It will make you perhaps even more cynical about child actors, but I think we all should be, so.