by Frederick Manfred

Grizzly

 

When I was a kid, my parents used to drop me off at Blue Mounds State Park in Luverne, Minnesota, near the confluence of that state, South Dakota, and Iowa.  Not only were the park’s pink, quartzite cliffs spectacular, but in the distance I could see buffalo grazing, and nearby was the futuristic-looking (this was the 1960s) home of a real curiosity:  a man who wrote books for a living, name of Frederick Manfred.

So it was with a mix of nostalgia and intrigue that I recently picked up Manfred’s Lord Grizzly, a National Book Award finalist in 1955 and the story of Hugh Glass, a real-life mountain man who survived a bear attack and subsequent abandonment in 1820s South Dakota – not far from my Blue Mounds stomping ground.

Lord Grizzly invokes that long-ago land of Indians, grizzlies, mountain lions and buzzards, but Manfred recreates it to a fault.   The book reminded me of Charles Frazier’s Cold Mountain with its endless depictions of wilderness flora and fauna – nirvana for naturalists and American West fans, I’m sure – but not my cup of tea.  Old Hugh’s cumbersome crawl across the Midwestern Plains had nothing on my tedious trek through 100 pages of riverbeds, sunsets, and prairie-dog villages.

The plot is about Glass’s quest for revenge on the men who left him for dead, but the theme is man’s struggle between his desire for freedom and the bonds of society.  Manfred seemed to prefer the former; for me, those daylong prowls in his Blue Mounds backyard were wilderness enough.

 

Blue

  Blue Mounds State Park:  my childhood playground and Manfred’s backyard.

 

© 2010-2026 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

Share

Holmes1 

 

No Shit, Sherlock

 

When this modern-day retelling of the venerable Sherlock Holmes stories debuted two years ago, I was pleasantly surprised.  My powers of deduction had warned me that text messaging, computer hard drives, and Internet blogs would be a poor substitute for Arthur Conan Doyle’s 19th-century cobblestone, London fog, and horse-drawn carriages.  And I thought that the young actors cast to play Holmes and Dr. Watson, Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman, were too green and baby-faced to convincingly battle the lords of London’s underworld.

OK, so I was wrong.  If anything, Sherlock is getting better. The second season’s opening episode, “A Scandal in Belgravia,” is a delight on several levels:

1)  The pace is breakneck — almost as fast as Holmes’s crime-detecting intellect and his rapid-fire dialogue.  In fact, it’s not a bad idea to watch the first episode twice, because if you blink you might miss important clues.

 

Holmes2 

 

2)  If solving the mystery is too much of a chore for you, you can simply sit back and enjoy the real draw of the series:  the amusing interplay amongst what can only be described as the queerest “family” ever to break bread on Baker Street — Holmes, Watson, and the irrepressible Mrs. Hudson.  Unlike the 1980s-’90s Jeremy Brett take on Holmes (also superb), humor and warmth permeate Sherlock.  Just when the rat-a-tat pace and complex plot begin to make your head spin, some bit of comic business between Watson and Holmes reminds us that it’s their relationship that holds everything together.

3)  “Belgravia” is an especially good episode because Holmes is pitted against his greatest challenge:  his own human feelings.  There is a Christmas scene in which Holmes is compelled to socialize (awkwardly) with his small circle of friends.  And then there is a secondary foe, the formidable Irene Adler (Lara Pulver), an upscale dominatrix who handles kingmakers with aplomb but who meets her match in the peculiar Holmes.  To Sherlock, Adler is simply “the woman.”  To Adler, Holmes is “the virgin.”

 

Holmes3

 

All of this is done tongue-in-cheek, and with energy and visual flair.  The only downside to the start of a new season of Sherlock is the unfortunate fact that there are just three new episodes.  Sunday’s entry promises to provide a showcase for Freeman (The Office) because, if the script adheres to Conan Doyle’s original story, The Hounds of Baskerville will feature more Watson than Holmes.     Grade:  A-

 

Holmes4Holmes5

 

Cast:  Benedict Cumberbatch, Martin Freeman, Una Stubbs, Rupert Graves, Loo Brealey, Mark Gatiss, Andrew Scott, Lara Pulver  Premiere:  2010  Sundays on PBS

 

Holmes6Holmes7

 

Holmes8

 

        Watch Clips or Episodes  (click here)

 

Holmes9

 

© 2010-2026 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

Share

Square4

 

I am tired of the clichéd term “psychological thriller.”  I am also sick to death of every new suspense film being compared to the work of Alfred Hitchcock.  The Square is a nifty little nail-biter from Australia.  Read my review of the movie by clicking here, or click here to watch this Hitchcockian, psychological thriller free of charge.

 

© 2010-2026 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

Share

Shuttle

 

Could we please celebrate our national achievements just once?  When the retired space shuttle Enterprise was piggy-backed to Manhattan last week, there was breathless news coverage of the event.  Just as there was breathless news coverage of the final space-shuttle mission last July.

This week, we celebrated the placement of a steel beam atop One World Trade Center, officially making it New York’s tallest building.  We will celebrate, again, when the building is completed in a year or so.

I am thinking that this year I will celebrate my birthday not once, but twice:  once on the actual day of my birth, and once on the day that I was conceived.  Please alert the media.

 

*****

 

Avengers

 

There is an upside to being an unpaid film critic, as opposed to the poor schmucks who review movies for professional media.  As an unpaid critic, I am under absolutely no obligation to see the latest entry in Hollywood’s endless string of mindless, childish teenybopper movies, in this case The Avengers.  Yes, it’s getting good reviews, and yes, it will strike gold at the box office.  I’ll even admit that it might be an entertaining flick.  But at this point, all I need to hear are the words “superhero” or “comic book” and I run screaming for the exit.

 

*****

 

Chat

 

My phone stopped working.  So I did what anyone would do, I contacted Fermin in India.

 

Fermin:  Hello sir.  Thank you for contacting Comcast Live Chat Support.  My name is Fermin.  Please give me one moment to review your information.

Grouch:  I think I need to just drop this voicemail feature on my computer, because 1)  I never use it, and 2)  I am now unable to use my telephone, and I am missing phone calls.  How on earth do I just get rid of it?

Fermin:  I will be more than glad to do the best I can to assist you today.  I hope your day is doing just fine.

Grouch:  Well, I can no longer use my telephone, and I suspect it’s because of this voicemail feature I have on my computer, which I never use.

Fermin:  I understand your concern, sir.

Fermin:  To make sure that I’m working with the correct phone, kindly verify the affected Comcast phone number and also your best contact number so we can call you if necessary.

Grouch:  You can’t call me.  My phone does not seem to be working.

Fermin:  I understand your concern.

Fermin:  Please in chat.

Fermin:  Please stat in chat.

Fermin:  Thank you so much.

Grouch:  I just want my phone to work again.

Fermin:  No problem.  Kindly connect the base unit of your phone directly to the modem at tel line 1 and 2 ports to verify which port is working.

Grouch:  The telephone is in another room, it’s not near the computer.

Fermin:  At this point, I humbly ask your patience and cooperation to follow my instructions so that we can resolve this phone issue now.  Please plug your phone directly to the modem.

Grouch:  But the telephone is not in the same room as the computer.

Fermin:  I understand you.  Please make sure to connect the wire or cable to the line 1 port at the back of the modem so that the wall outlet in your room will surely work.

Grouch:  The only way I can get a dial tone is by bringing the entire phone apparatus into this room and plugging it into the computer.  I don’t want the phone in this room.  I think perhaps you had better schedule a technician.

Fermin:  Yes.  I can see that there is an issue with your inside wiring.  The appointment schedule will be on 5/5/2012 between 2 pm and 4 pm.  Please keep this ticket as your reference.

Grouch:  You have to stop typing so I can write the number down.  This screen keeps scrolling by itself.

Fermin:  I’m glad I was able to help you.  Do you have any other questions or concerns I can help you with today? I just wanna make sure all your concerns will be taken cared of today.

Grouch:  They were not taken care of.  I will have to wait until Saturday and probably pay 49.95 to fix the problem.

Fermin:  I understand your concern.  Is there anything else I can help you with today?

 

*****

 

Boob1

 

A St. Louis judge awarded more than seven million dollars to Tamara Favazza because her boobs wound up in a Girls Gone Wild video. Favazza does have nice boobs, but I don’t think they are worth a penny more than $500,000.

 

Boob2

 

© 2010-2026 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

Share

by Suzanne Collins 

Hunger


The Hunger Games is a pretty good “young adult” book.  If that sounds condescending, I apologize, but the story has just a few too many silly contrivances, shallow characters, and teen-angst moments to transcend its Y.A. genre.

There are valid reasons why Games has become a cultural phenomenon:  The feisty heroine is appealing, and Collins creates some genuine suspense in a futuristic North America where 24 teenagers engage in a televised fight to the death.  Collins also introduces some interesting themes – including class warfare – but what really sets Games apart from ancestors like The Most Dangerous Game is its “reality TV” angle.

The protagonist’s romantic dilemma of choosing between two boys (neither of them particularly well written) is probably of interest to teen girls only.  But her struggle to survive the games while simultaneously pleasing an audience – it’s all being shown on live TV – is often intriguing.

 

© 2010-2026 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

Share

Best

 

Maybe you have to be from a small town, or maybe you have to have fond memories of high school football, but for whatever reason this Robin Williams and Kurt Russell comedy failed to attract many fans.  Never mind that.  I love this movie – in particular the Monday Night Football scene with the boys and their wives.  Check it out free of charge by clicking here, or here.

 

© 2010-2026 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

Share

Grouch

 

We are trying to decide if The Grouchy Editor needs a new banner picture.  Problem is, there are just way too many pictures of that handsome devil, Grouchy, from which to choose.

 

*****

 

Quote of the Week 1:

 

“You can’t even believe what comes out of this guy’s mouth sometimes.” — MSNBC’s Krystal Ball, ranting about Mitt Romney.  I’m not sure that Krystal is the best person to be talking about things coming out of people’s mouths.  Remember these pictures, Krystal?

 

Ball1

Ball2

 

 

*****

 

 

CowellHammer

 

Quote of the Week 2:

 

“I think his picture may appear next to the word ‘narcissism’ in the dictionary.” — HLN’s A.J. Hammer, chiding Simon Cowell.  Yup, I’d guess it appears right next to this picture of A.J. Hammer.

 

*****

 

We interrupt these pictures of pretty people to bring you a picture of the blobfish:

 

MB2_2761.NEF

 

*****

 

CNN ON AIR TALENT

 

In Stephen King’s Duma Key, the hero likes to watch Robin Meade on HLN.  In real life, Stephen King says he likes to watch Robin Meade on HLN.  Can’t say that I blame him.

Seems like every time I turn on the TV, cable news channels are introducing some new, pretty-but-fluffy anchor.  Meade is certainly pretty, and she doesn’t strike me as the brightest bulb on the tree, but geez … she’s so darned likable.  Wouldn’t you want her on your bowling team?

 

*****

 

Rockers

 

NBC finally has a show I kinda like:  Off Their Rockers.  I could do with a bit less Betty White, because her segments are scripted and Betty’s “naughty grandma” act has worn a bit thin.  But the actual pranks, most of the time,  are a hoot.

 

© 2010-2026 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

Share

Cave1

 

In 1994, three explorers stumbled on a cave in southern France that, having been shielded from the elements for thousands of years, harbored an amazing treasure:  prehistoric paintings of horses, panthers, lions, and at least one human, all of them etched on calcium-lined rock and dating back some 32,000 years.  Two years ago, the French government granted limited access to the Chauvet Cave for filmmaker Werner Herzog so that the world might share in this archaeological wonderland.  In 3-D, no less.

Sounds like the makings of a spellbinding documentary, doesn’t it?  Alas, too often during Cave of Forgotten Dreams I felt like I was back in 7th-grade science class, grateful when the lights went off so that I could catch a few winks during the screening of some plodding educational movie.

The images in Cave are impressive.  I did not see the film in 3-D, but I was still drawn to Herzog’s lingering, panoramic views of what most inspired our ancestors:  animals.  Not only are the paintings well-preserved, many of them are artistically striking.

 

Cave2

 

Unfortunately, Herzog’s film is 90 minutes, and that’s a long time to fill the screen with slow pans of stalactites, stalagmites, and hand prints on shadowy walls.  Also, Herzog is determined to speculate on What It All Means, and that means introducing the “experts.”

Among the scholars who provide archaeological insight, we meet one geezer, “Master Perfumer” Maurice Maurin, who — I kid you not — sniffs at holes in the ground to ferret out caves. “Primal techniques,” Herzog explains in narration. 

We also watch as a cave researcher wobbles a spear through the air in a clumsy attempt to demonstrate how primitive man hunted game during the Ice Age.  “His efforts may not look very convincing,” says Herzog, stating the obvious.

In a strange postscript, Herzog photographs some mutant albino crocodiles and wonders aloud what the crocs might make of the nearby cave paintings.  Is it possible, he asks, that future historians might look back at humans who explored the Chauvet Cave in much the same way that we now look at these crocodiles?

As long as Herzog was dragging me into la-la land, I began to speculate about one particular drawing on the cave’s wall, which is shown near the end of the movie.  I could swear that the image is of Bart Simpson.       Grade:  B-

 

Cave3Cave4

 

Director:  Werner Herzog  Featuring:  Werner Herzog, Jean Clottes, Julien Monney, Jean-Michel Geneste, Michel Philippe, Gilles Tosello, Carole Fritz, Maurice Maurin  Release:  2010

 

Cave5

 

       Watch Trailers and Clips  (click here)



Cave6

Above, can you spot Bart Simpson?

 

Cave7

 

© 2010-2026 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

Share

Reservoir

 

I’ll preface this by admitting that I am not a Quentin Tarantino fan.  To me, this guy’s films are adored by some people because of his “wink wink” attitude toward pretty much everything.  In a Tarantino movie, violence is fun if it’s done tongue-in-cheek, and a smart-ass philosophy of life is the best way to go.  I dunno.  Tarantino annoys me, but I seem to be in the minority, because the “auteur” has many fans.  Check out his 1992 breakout movie free of charge by clicking here.

 

© 2010-2026 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

Share

Burger

 

Brazil Nuts

 

It was a busy week in South America.  We learned that a trio of Brazilians had indulged in cannibalism, cooking their victims and turning them into pastries.  Meanwhile, in nearby Colombia, President Obama’s Secret Service agents were also enjoying a piece of ass.

 

*****

 

Pity the poor Republicans.  They must sit back and watch in envy as Dems rake in all the love from movie stars, rock stars — most of the celebrity “cool kids.”  But when the GOP finally does land a celebrity fan, it’s this guy:

 

Nugent

 

*****

 

Quote

 

— That’s Scarlett Johansson whining to Vogue about the hacked nudes of the actress that went viral last year.  Gee, Scarlett, those people had probably already seen your “…” on the cover of Vanity Fair, or in the scene below from your 2004 movie,  A Love Song for Bobby Long.  Terrible, isn’t it?

 

SJ1

SJ2

 

*****

 

Miami

 

Yes, yes, Mr. Meteorologist, we heard you the first time when you told us that it’s a myth that twisters never strike urban areas.  But what I’d like to know is this:  Why don’t tornadoes ever hit skyscrapers, and what would happen if they did?

 

*****

 

Clark

 

The most depressing aspect of this Dick Clark Is Dead hoopla?  My nagging hunch that someday we will have to go through the entire process again when Ryan Seacrest kicks the bucket.

 

© 2010-2026 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

Share