The reviews are in. Next to “Hulk,” “Billy’s Long Halftime Walk” may be Oscar-winning director Ang Lee’s worst-received film. Scoring a fifty-percent “fresh” rate on Rotten Tomatoes (not that such review aggregators matter, of course), the adaptation of Ben Fountain’s 2012 National Book Award-nominated novel has left such critics as RogerEbert.com’s Godfrey Cheshire cold. “Too obvious to be effective,” he has sneered, and others seem to agree. I am not one of them, but I also am in the minority of reviewers who have seen this account of an American soldier’s brief return from Iraq in the format that Lee had intended. Using a new film technology, he has captured an essence of the book that otherwise might never have translated to screen. Continue Reading →
Archive | Book Matters
The Way Forward Is With a Broken Heart
Last night I heard one of my favorite writers speak—he may be my favorite living writer—and I was so brokenhearted I could barely take it in. Afterward, I bought a new copy of his best book (I’d read the last copy to shreds), and made an ass of myself as he signed it. I forgive myself because I’d known this would happen. I’m balls out when it comes to meeting movie actors and rock stars, but on the rare occasions I’ve met the writers I cherish, I’ve presented as angsty, unbalanced, wild-eyed. I think it is because I was raised more by my favorite authors than by my parents. I learned to read at age 3, inhaled adult books by kindergarten, and relied on essays, novels, and memoirs for the models of decency and decorum, the communion and care-taking, that I received nowhere else. It’s no wonder I’ve always been a disaster when I’ve met my favorite authors. The degree to which I’ve cathected to them has made our dynamics hideously uneven.
The person I met last night was Edmund White, whose work I’ve loved since reading “The Beautiful Room Is Empty” in the university library while my peers fell upon each in beery, Gap-clad messes. (I hated college.) As he signed “The Farewell Symphony” for me, I welled up and recited the Joshua passage I’ve quoted here. I saw his eyes widen in sympathy and alarm but couldn’t reel myself in; any emotional pregnancy unmoors me completely right now. I know I am not alone in feeling this way, far from it. But I am ashamed to say I am not just mourning the demise of the United States of America. I also am mourning the death of hopes I’ve nursed for months and months. Continue Reading →
Election as Entertainment
As we head into the final days of the 2016 presidential campaign, election ennui has become a problem. Regardless of how you’re casting your ballot, chances are good that words like “rigged,” “pantsuit,” “orange,” and, of course, “Skittles” long ago lost their appeal. (Who knew candy could prove so controversial outside of dentistry conventions?) To take the edge off this malaise, I’ve nominated some political novels, television shows, plays, and films to put the entertainment back into the election.
ADAPTATIONS
“Primary Colors” (1998)
The gold standard of modern election entertainment, this thinly disguised account of Bill Clinton’s first run for U.S. President is adapted from a Joe Klein novel. Directed by Mike Nichols from a screenplay by his old comedy buddy Elaine May (swoon), in a genius bit of casting, it stars John Travolta as Governor Jack Stanton (aka Bill) and Emma Freaking Thompson as Susan Stanton (aka Hillary). Continue Reading →