Dec

13

It Must Be Said

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I haven’t talked about Glee yet because I haven’t known what to say.  I still don’t and I’ve watched 13 episodes.  (Whereas I could wax eloquent on The Shield for days.  Then again, I’m on Season 7 of that one.  Seriously, how do they make a character totally despicable but then when someone tries to expose him you recoil?  I am in awe.)

The one thing I can say for certain about Glee is that it is tragically inconsistent.  The best episodes (which, in my opinion, are pretty much the first and the last) manage to be light and dark, both bluntly joyful and sharply witty.  The others (all the ones in the middle, except for maybe the one where Kurt does Beyonce) tend to be overly sappy or have terrible musical numbers or have out-of-nowhere plots or have weird humor that doesn’t seem to hit its mark.  The character development is way way spotty–what do we know about Mr. Shue except that he’s a nice guy?–and tends to change when it’s convenient–every episode, Rachel has some new trait which completely defines her.

But all of that could be saved if the music was just good.  Or if it remotely resembled anything a show choir has ever done.  I have just decided that in the universe Glee is set in, choir is not “choir,” but a series of solos with a massive group of backup singers.  The songs are overproduced–they should fire their music producer–and often they pick really really horrible songs.  (Can you be more *yawn* than having a pregnant girl sing Papa, Don’t Preach?  It doesn’t matter if it’s a stripped down acoustic version.)  If the music was interesting, if they had cool arrangements, if they did something besides their endless mashups–who thinks they’re interesting, they’re just weird–if they decided to really showcase their talent it would be better.  I would love to hear Lea Michele actually sing more often instead of hearing it sound like she’s coming through an electronic filter.  And it would be nice to mix it up a little bit with the other cast members, who can obviously hold their own.

The highlights are so easy to pick out that the problems become more obvious.  The very best song they did all season was Artie’s Dancing With Myself.  It was sweet and bouncy, totally different than the Billy Idol original, which is brash and crass.  I loved seeing a song I knew in a really new and unexpectedly perfect way.  It made me wonder why they don’t do that more often.  Or why they don’t just simplify things, like the Don’t Stop Believing number from the pilot, which heaves with energy.  Sometimes they get things half right–the choreography for Proud Mary was awesome, the song was meh; Don’t Rain on My Parade was glorious, but missed the rest of the ensemble (but I will be downloading that track, I am so looking forward to seeing with it at the top of my lungs).  (Update: maybe Glee is more nefarious than I thought.  Having downloaded only 3 of the many tracks available, the first time I played them I was in a car accident mid-song.  Perhaps I should be nicer?)

Still, despite my myriad of complaints about Glee I continue to watch and I continue to be happy it’s on.  Because television is far too unforgiving of niche-y stuff and there are so many niches out there.  It’s true that Glee appeals to the same people who have seen Wicked 8 times (I haven’t seen it once, I find the songs to be mostly mediocre and that’s a fatal flaw for a musical that no longer has Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth currently starring in it) and maybe my tastes are not the same as theirs, but I get it.  I was a choir geek, I listen to show tunes, I know what’s playing on Broadway pretty much all the time (which is why I know who Lea Michele is, I have listened to Spring Awakening probably a million times) and I would rather people watch Glee than American Idol or the insane number of dance shows whose names shall not be mentioned.

As for the state of tv these days, at least there is one absolutely snappy new show: Modern Family is perhaps the best new sitcom I’ve seen since… I don’t actually know because sitcoms are not this good.  I don’t think I’ve enjoyed one this much this consistently since Arrested Development.  Its cutesy family image totally belies its wit, which is probably smart since AD did get canceled and all.

I am sad Mad Men is over, though I found Season 3 to be spotty.  The main flaw: Betty Draper.  She is boring.  And this season was mostly about her.  (And what was up with Don’s new and pointless affair?)  There was a shameful absence of Peggy and Pete and Harry and actual advertising.  The advertising is my favorite part of the show.  There were still high points, though.  The last episode was great–yay Joan is back!  And I was a big fan of the infamous lawnmower episode.  It was nuts but it worked.  The Kennedy assassination ep, though, was perhaps their worst.  It was good in the bare bones, but it was so saturated with footage that it was distracting and annoying.  Just give me more Peggy next season, please, and Joan should be in every episode according to her contract.

Dexter has been pretty dull, hard to believe it’s the same show as the first two seasons which were just plain manic in tone and nutty with plot twists.  House is boring me, it doesn’t help that they keep killing off the characters I like.  This needs to change.  They need to start killing off the ones I dislike… which is almost everyone left.  Definitely start with Foreman and 13.  Community is funny enough, though it should be funnier.  Mostly I chuckle, I don’t laugh enough.  30Rock has just barely started back up so I cannot judge yet, but I have enjoyed it thus far.  There is something comforting about it being on and knowing it will be so smartly written.  I am oh so excited for Lost and Big Love to come back.  IMDb tells me that Damages will be back in January–AND it will now have Campbell Scott as a regular.  If I were not married and it were legal to marry a tv show, I would marry you, Damages.  I have always liked Glenn Close, but now I lurrrrv her.  And you make Rose Byrne tolerable.  And you have Tate Donovan, who is one of my favorite rumpled-getting-older hunks.  And you had that guy from Deadwood who was so criminally underused for their last couple seasons.  And you had William Hurt and Marcia Gay Harden and I think Ted Danson is back this season.  Seriously, could I love you anymore, Damages?  No, I do not think I could.  You are beautiful.  You must tide me over until Breaking Bad comes back in March.

Meanwhile, I will finish Season 7 of The Shield, which I now feel really bad for not watching when it was on.  I realized the other day that there is yet another way it is superior to The Wire: it has women.  The Shield has 3 main characters who are women and has brought in others as well.  (Like the awesome Glenn Close and the latina chick from Defying Gravity, who’s been on for a few seasons now.)  They are good characters, they are interesting.  They are often more interesting than the men.  And they have episodes written by women–unlike the male-infested writers of The Wire.  They actually serve a purpose other than being eye candy or wives who never do anything but complain.  (Okay, maybe Vic’s wife did that a little the first couple seasons, but it gets better.)

I know all this makes it sound like I watch too much television, but it doesn’t really add up to much since shows have such short seasons on cable and such long breaks between seasons.  You pretty much get a slow trickle throughout the week with occasional spurts now and then.  (This depends mostly on which reality tv shows are on that I actually watch.  It is a small percentage, and most of them sucked this year.  Can we talk about how totally mean the Top Chef finale was?  Make us the meal of your life, oh except you only get to pick one of the 4 courses.  Nice.  And it was a snooze-fest on The Amazing Race this year, it’s great that a nice team won, but wow they are just the blandest bunch ever.  I guess I really do miss all the obnoxious teams they used to have on despite the fact that I complain about them constantly when they’re on.)

All this is a bit moot now, since the holidays mean a bunch of repeats.  So expect a book-heavy post to follow.

Dec

6

Abandon Ship

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The idea of “Abandon Ship” is one I preach better than I practice.  I often talk to my LSAT students about it, and how sometimes the cost of spending time on a question far outweighs the benefit that question can provide to your score.  (Especially if you end up getting the question wrong, in which case the benefit is zero.)

Hypothetically this would be a good strategy to apply to books.  I have a limited amount I get to read each year (though it’s still a pretty significant number).  And I’d rather read good books than bad ones.  This year in particular I’ve read several books I haven’t really liked.  Even though I will have read almost as many books as last year, my end of year list this year will be somewhat sparse, whereas last year I had to make like 4 different lists to contain all the awesomeness.

With all that said, I still have a very hard time abandoning books.  It rarely happens.  Even if it is bad.  Sometimes there is an excuse.  Like with Pat Conroy’s new book, he is an author I enjoy so I’m more likely to give him more and more chances.  (Even if he completely squanders them so that now if his next book is not good I will be out very early.)  Or if I suspect that something is going to happen at the end that will make it all make sense.  (Like that behemoth The Children’s Hospital, which should have had that kind of ending, but instead went with the deus ex machina kind of thing that I really hate.)  But more often there is no good reason to keep going, yet I do anyway.

I recently compromised.  And I think this may be my new thing, especially with thrillers.  I like thrillers and mysteries, but it’s particularly hard to put them down because the end is kind of the whole point.  I was reading Jennifer McMahon’s new book, Dismantled.  It was recommended by someone whose books I like, though I have to admit that my tastes vary widely when it comes to taste in books.  (This is the case with many authors.  Dismantled is blurbed by Stewart O’Nan, who is the last person on earth I would have suspected.  He writes lovely, spare, books about people whose lives feel real.  Why is he blurbing this really lame thriller?)

I knew I’d read McMahon’s first book and disliked it.  It was compared to The Secret History, my very favorite book.  I will read pretty much anything if it is compared to The Secret History.  Unfortunately, nothing lives up to the comparison, but I try anyway.  I had forgotten that I’d read McMahon’s second book until I saw it on my list from last year.  Then I remembered that I hadn’t liked it either.  I was about 50 pages into Dismantled and wasn’t liking it so something needed to be done.

Because it is so very hard to abandon mystery/thriller types, I took the middle ground.  I skimmed it.  I flipped pages through the rest of the book, occasionally stopping to read half a scene.  I finished it in less than half an hour, and wow, it was not good.  I was seriously annoyed at how not good it was and I was barely reading it.  (Seriously, I should know better than to read books with a slight supernatural bent.  They annoy me.  Even when done well, a la The Little Stranger, it is hard for me to set aside my rationality and just acknowledge that something may be unexplainable.  I demand explanations!  Agatha Christie at least gives them to me.)  It was a good solution.  I was able to feel justified in my choice to not really read it.  Had it gotten good, I could have slowed down and started to read for real again.  And it will not go on my book list because I didn’t really read it so I don’t have to remind myself of its badness.  Except to remind myself that I do not like Jennifer McMahon and need to stop reading her books.  Self, please remember this.

I did finish my audiobook of Brave New World and I still firmly believe that while it has some amazing ideas, in terms of working as a novel, well, it’s rather mediocre.  It’s like a movie or book where all the dialogue is clunky backstory.  Plus it does what I so dislike: it preaches at you directly.  I can happily now say that I do prefer 1984 and not just rely on my high school memory.

My new audiobook is the aforementioned Stewart O’Nan, Songs of the Missing.  And because it is Stewart O’Nan it is very likely that the missing girl will never be found and this is very likely to annoy me, even though it is the whole point.  Or at least, I assume it is.  It has yet to rise to Last Night at the Lobster, which I loved quite slavishly.  But if I don’t hold its subject matter against it, it is so nice to read O’Nan, who writes about small towns and suburbs without being condescending or quirky.  It is wonderful to read something that is not set in a big city and not populated by unbelievable characters.

I also have a small paperback of Up in the Air sitting in my purse which I will read while doing things like waiting in line.  I suspect it will be some time before I get to watch the movie and I’m pretty sure it will diverge enough that it won’t be bad that I just read it.  Plus, as a frequent–though not this frequent–traveler, it appeals to me.

I did just read Karin Fossum’s new book The Water’s Edge in one sitting.  It is not the best, but I did like it.  I am not sure which one is the best, though I was very fond of The Indian Bride.  I’d have to go back to the first one I read, Don’t Look Back to see if it’s better.  There was not much of Inspector Sejer in this book, it was very slim, but I do like the style of her mysteries far more than most other writers.  This one had a particularly neat little subplot that I found very intriguing.  For me, overall, Fossum is right up there with Kate Atkinson for writing really interesting mysteries.  No one else quite gets it the way they do.

Dec

1

Another Doorstop Down

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A big fat book can be a wonderful thing, whether in spite of its length or because of it.  I spent a couple weeks getting through The Children’s Book by A. S. Byatt.  At another time in my life I probably could have done it in a few days if I had nothing else to do, but it is hefty and not a one-sitting kind of thing.  The only other book of Byatt’s I read is Possession, and that was a long time ago, though I remember liking it.

TCB has a lot of things that I normally don’t like.  It’s historical (not a dealbreaker, but not necessarily a big plus), it’s full of long tangents getting into the happenings of the day, and it features cameos from famous figures of the time.  I understand that Oscar Wilde and Rupert Brooke feature into the social circles of the book, but I also can’t help feeling like an author has misappropriated them for their own purposes without their consent.  I was willing to forgive all these flaws because I got very quickly caught up in Byatt’s story.  I’ve read a lot of books set in turn-of-the-century Britain lately, and I’ve read a lot of authors from that time period, so that helped.  I was aware of the resurgence in children’s fiction (J. M. Barrie and the like) but hadn’t ever realized how broad it was, so that was also nice.

Byatt does what I like best in an author: she presents a story with several characters, where each are allowed their own point of view.  Because of the large number of characters in TCB, some do get shortchanged.  But those you get to know best do develop a strong inner life and get to interact with all sorts of other characters.

Unfortunately, as the book went on it became clear that Byatt was less concerned with the individual stories of her characters and more concerned with placing them into a larger historical context.  (Thus the repeated appearances of Brooke.)  The more the world started to invade their lives, the less interesting the book became.  It wasn’t at all surprising that it all came to a head at World War I, if anything it became so obvious that this would happen about halfway through the book that it was rather anticlimactic.  I still don’t quite know what to think about the ending.  It is all so quick and dirty.  And I can’t quite figure out how it fits into what Byatt is trying to say.  Did the War force the generation of children to grow up?  Or does it mean that they’d doomed their own children to become adults far too quickly?  And while an awful lot of characters died in those last few pages, many were ones we didn’t know well and the cumulative effect of all those deaths actually made it less affecting.

Still, for about half the book, I fervently adored it and if it all could have stayed like that I think it would become a new favorite.  I don’t know that I will read it again, but I do feel comfortable recommending it, especially to people who like historical novels.

I feel like all my reading got put on hold while I spent weeks trying to finish TCB.  I am still in the middle of Rabbit, Redux.  I have started The Lost City of Z, and should probably get back to it since I’m sure I can’t renew it.  I have just dived into This Is Where I Leave You by Jonathan Tropper, and expect to be finished soon.  TIWILY is good.  It reminds me of The Corrections, except it’s funny and wry and raunchy and doesn’t take itself so seriously.  (These are all compliments.)  I am listening to Brave New World on audio, I realized it had been at least a decade since I’d read it and I could hardly remember anything about it, I think it is one of those books you need a decent memory of since it’s in a host of cultural references.  I also wanted to make sure that I like 1984 better.  You always have to pick one.  Thus far, my mind has not changed.  It is good, it is sometimes horrifyingly prescient.  But I think the use of the “savages” could have been a bit better.  Still, I think Huxley pulls you in pretty well, which is a big deal in this kind of fiction.

I am reaching the end of the year, which means I’ll have to put some thought into my best list.  I have a few specific ideas for my favorites, but I won’t be able to make the kind of extensive list I made last year.  It hasn’t been so bad, the highs have been quite high, but I have suffered through a few more books than I should have.  I need to learn to get out sooner.

As you’d expect for the parent of an infant, I am sadly behind on movies.  I would love to go see Fantastic Mr. Fox and Up in the Air and Precious and Nine (yes, please, Nine!) and Invictus and A Serious Man and Broken Embraces but most of these probably won’t come to pass since I have a baby who must be entertained and a husband who’s not particularly interested in any of these movies.  So it’s back to the DVD queue for me.  I have had When Father Was Away on Business and Farewell, My Concubine sitting at my house for at least two weeks so I haven’t been particularly good on that front either.

I did watch almost all of the 7Up films recently, though.  (35Up is not available on Netflix Watch Instantly, but all the others are.)  I found it very interesting, especially since your expectations were often totally overthrown from one film to the next.  I didn’t mind so much that it was an intrusion into the lives of its subjects (as today’s reality tv often is) because they were allowed to comment on whether the films were effective and what they thought themselves.  It’s unclear whether there will be a film to follow 49Up, and there certainly has been a lot less change from film to film recently.  But I think they should keep going, if only to keep viewers from assuming that life is boring after 50.