by Georges Simenon

Boulevard

 

When you plan a whodunit, there are certain unwritten rules you should obey.  You should not, for example, make your killer a minor, inconsequential character.  You also should not introduce him (or her) very late in the story.  If you violate those conventions, you are cheating the reader who is striving to discover “whodunit.” Simenon, famed mystery writer that he is, violates both rules in Maigret and the Man on the Boulevard.  That’s a strike against him.

Now that I’ve vented, let me add some praise.  Unlike in Agatha Christie stories, Simenon’s characters are three-dimensional, not recurring stereotypes.  The protagonist, police detective Maigret, gathers most of his clues through interrogations (much like Christie’s Poirot), but the suspects are gritty, colorful, and memorable – very often street toughs.  In short, Simenon is great with character and dialogue, but not so great with plot.  At least not in this book.

 

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Baby1

Baby

 

These headlines showed up on the same day.  Can’t a baby get some respect?

 

*****

 

Kacey

 

And so it has come to this for the nation’s downtrodden smokers.  Geraldo Rivera’s guest was porn star Kacey Jordan (above), one of Charlie Sheen’s infamous squeezes.  Sexy Kacey expressed her disgust over … the secondhand smoke in Sheen’s house.

Yes, even porn stars consider smokers beneath contempt.

 

*****

 

CNN

 

Speaking of Charlie Sheen … he has been getting hammered ferociously by certain segments of the media, most notably CNN’s Showbiz Tonight and the magazine Entertainment WeeklyShowbiz Tonight bubble-headed anchors Brooke Anderson and A.J. Hammer (above) and EW’s snotty writers seem to be taking Sheen’s shenanigans personally.  I wonder why.

Sheen recently announced that he will sue Warner Brothers for breach of contract over his firing from the sitcom Two and a Half Men.  In addition to Warner Brothers, can you guess what else parent company Time Warner owns?  You guessed it:  Showbiz Tonight and Entertainment Weekly.

 

*****

 

Eminem Simpson2 Snoop

 

Alan Simpson Quote of the Week:

“I think, you know, grandchildren now don’t write a thank-you for the Christmas presents.  They’re walking on their pants with their cap on backwards, listening to Enema Man and Snoopy Snoopy Poop Dogg, and they don’t like ’em!”

 

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Bobby1

 

We can argue till we’re blue in the face whether chess is a “game” or a “sport,” but maybe we can agree on this:  Searching for Bobby Fischer, the 1993 drama about chess prodigy Josh Waitzkin, might be the best movie ever made about … well, let’s call it “competition.”

When the real-life Waitzkin was very young, he was given conflicting advice about how to succeed.  “You have a good heart – and that’s the most important thing in the world,” Josh’s mother (Joan Allen) tells him.  His chess instructor (Ben Kingsley), on the other hand, tells Josh the secret to what made Fischer the best chess player on Earth:  “Bobby Fischer held the world in contempt.”

Writer-director Steven Zaillian’s low-key approach to the universe of chess masters and child competitions yields high humor (especially from misguided parents) and nail-biting drama.  Never before, nor since, have scenes involving two people seated at a game board been so deliciously suspenseful.

In the end, young Josh has to make a choice that faces all of us.  Should he emulate the explosive Fischer, winning at all costs, developing a “killer instinct” and playing only to succeed?  Or did his mom have the best advice?

Turns out Bobby Fischer might not have been worth looking for, after all.   Grade:  A

 

Bobby

 

Director Steven Zaillian   Cast:  Max Pomeranc, Joe Mantegna, Joan Allen, Ben Kingsley, Laurence Fishburne, Michael Nirenberg, David Paymer, Robert Stephens, William H. Macy, Laura Linney   Release:  1993

Bobby3          Bobby4

Bobby5

   Watch the Trailer  (click here)

 

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 by Frank Brady

Fischer

 

If you are an undisputed champion in one area of life, does it necessarily follow that you are the master of everything else?  That seems to have been Bobby Fischer’s perspective – and downfall.

Brady, who knew the American chess master for most of Fischer’s life, had a tough task in compiling this biography.  Fischer wasn’t so much reclusive as he was abusive; cross him once, and he would erase you from his world.  That obstacle might explain why, fascinating though Endgame is, it leaves so many unanswered questions.  Why did Fischer have no meaningful relationships with women (other than his mother) until late in life?  Why was he declared unfit for the draft during Vietnam?  Who was his biological father?  Brady does capture Fischer’s volatile personality, including painful examples of his many anti-Semitic, anti-American, and anti-Soviet rants – along with other, what might kindly be called “eccentricities.”  Mostly, Endgame is a harrowing examination of the demands and pitfalls of celebrity.

 

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Dracula


There’s a good reason most vampire movies bear little resemblance to their primary inspiration, the 1897 novel, Dracula.  Bram Stoker’s classic story is elegant, atmospheric, and creepy, for sure.  But it’s no longer very “scary.”  Ditto for this 1992 adaptation from arguably America’s greatest living director, Francis Ford Coppola.  The movie is overlong and rarely frightening, but it is gorgeous to look at, and on the eeriness scale it ranks high.  Watch it
for free by clicking here.

 

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              KingVI

 

Post-Oscar Ruminations

 

The King’s Speech and The Social Network both purport to be “true stories.” Evidently, those claims are unadulterated bullshit.  According to an essay by Christopher Hitchens, the real King George VI was a man who sought to appease Adolf Hitler.  The Social Network has a very different agenda:  It demonizes wunderkind Mark Zuckerberg, who, judging from what I’ve seen of him in interviews, is actually quite genial.

Oscar voters, presented with the option of voting for one of two truth-spinning biopics, opted for the one that made them feel better.

 

Firth

 

  • I won’t bitch (much) about The King’s Speech’s Best Picture award, because it is an entertaining, well-made film.
  • I will complain about Natalie Portman’s Best Actress triumph.  Portman apologists point out that she learned ballet for Black Swan.  Big deal.  Charlie Sheen learned how to throw a baseball for Major League.  That kind of thing is simply part of an actor’s job description.  Besides, Portman acknowledged that a stunt double was used for some of her shots.  She did, however, perform her own masturbation scene — quite admirably.
  • James Franco and Anne Hathaway hosted a dull and predictable ceremony, but I blame lackluster writing more than the hosts.  Ricky Gervais couldn’t salvage some of those lame one-liners.
  • The hoopla about the Oscars reaching out to a younger demographic?  Something must have gone terribly wrong, because the biggest laughs came courtesy of 94-year-old Kirk Douglas and 73-year-old screenwriter David Seidler.
  • Biggest Oscar snubs:  The Ghost Writer, Blue Valentine, and David Fincher’s direction of The Social Network.

 

Zuckerberg            Jesse

 

*****

 

Sheen

 

Reasons To Hate Charlie Sheen:

1)  If you’re female, because he allegedly beats women.  2)  If you’re in the media and host a show like CNN’s Showbiz Tonight, because Sheen eliminates the middle man (you) by going straight to the public, which means we don’t really need your show.  3)  If you are an arrogant, preening egotist named Dr. Drew Pinsky, because Sheen called you a “clown” on national TV.  4)  If you are CBS … well, I’m not sure about CBS.

Reasons To Love Charlie Sheen:

1)  He might be crazy, but he is refreshingly honest — I think.  2)  He’s a big star, but he’s still managed to paint himself as “the little guy” battling faceless corporate honchos at CBS.  3)  He is quotable.  Two of my favorites:  “Just got invited to do the Nancy Grace show … I’d rather go on a long road trip with Chuck Lorre in a ’75 Pacer.”  “I will cut your head off, put it in a box and send it to your mom!”

 

Sheen could well be in the middle of meltdown, but a lot of what he says rings true  — to men, if not women.

 

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Repulsion1

 

Some people you should never leave alone.

Poor, beautiful Carole is one of those people.  When Carole peers into the hallway of the apartment building where she lives with her sister, she sees one example of the sort of life she herself might one day live:  her elderly neighbor, a pudgy battleaxe who likes to walk her dog – and spy on fellow apartment dwellers.  When Carole instead looks out her bedroom window and across the street, she sees another possible future:  the cloistered, celibate nuns at a nearby convent.  When she is older, Carole will likely become an eccentric dog-walker or a nun.  This much is certain:  Carole will not live a typical life, because Carole is batshit crazy.

She is sexually repressed, lord knows why, and painfully shy.  She is repulsed by men, which is easier to explain:  the construction workers who ogle her as she walks to her job as a manicurist; her sister’s boorish boyfriend, whose takeover of Carole’s bathroom space she finds unforgivable.  And then there are the horror stories older women at the beauty parlor relate about the beastly behavior of males.

 

Repulsion2

 

Carole is stunningly good-looking, but she is also quite insane.  When her sister and the boyfriend go on holiday, leaving her alone for ten days, what on earth will she do?

Roman Polanski, at his obsessive and stylish best, pulls the audience along as Carole descends deeper and deeper into madness, utilizing a master storyteller’s grab-bag of tricks:  distorted lenses, a ticking clock, the girl’s obsession with cracks, the distracted way in which she keeps brushing at her face.

Catherine Deneuve, the ravishing French actress, is a revelation in Repulsion.  Her Carole is mousy most of the time, but when she gets a certain gleam in her eye ….

Some of this 1965 film’s shocks are no longer very shocking.  Others hold up quite well.  But it’s Deneuve’s performance and Polanski’s direction that make Repulsion such a superb psychological thriller.       Grade:  A-

 

Repulsion3

 

Director:  Roman Polanski  Cast:  Catherine Deneuve, Ian Hendry, John Fraser, Yvonne Furneaux, Patrick Wymark, Renee Houston, Valerie Taylor, James Villiers, Helen Fraser  Release:  1965

 

Repulsion4        Repulsion5

 

Repulsion6

 

Repulsion7

 

Repulsion8         Watch the Trailer  (click here)

 

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Endtime

 

I’m beginning to believe the nutcases — maybe the world really will end in 2012.  Wars and threats of war in Egypt, Libya, Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran, North Korea.  Natural disasters in New Zealand, Australia, and Haiti.  All of this chaos is covered by social media, including Twitter.  Could it be that the world will end not with a bang or a whimper, but with a tweet?

 

*****

 

TV Land, "the Andy Griffith Show" CBS Archive Photo       OReilly2

 

I’m afraid the world has passed by poor Bill O’Reilly.  The Fox News figurehead was discussing the upcoming Oscars, and Bill said he hadn’t seen any of the “crazy movies” up for awards.  Bill said that he used to be a big movie fan.  On the other hand, Bill never misses an opportunity to mention The Andy Griffith Show or Leave It to Beaver in his quizzes and pop-culture references.

But there are signs that Bill is trying to modernize his pop-culture worldview:  This week, he interviewed that up-and-coming Hollywood stud, Ernest Borgnine.

 

*****

 

Carey

 

I’m still waiting for the angry backlash over Beyoncé, Mariah Carey, Usher, and other A-List American celebrities who pocketed millions by performing for the Gaddafi family in recent years.  Isn’t Gaddafi supposed to be, like, “the enemy”?  And oh, yes, let’s not overlook the American stars who enjoyed hanging out at Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi’s decadent parties.  Apparently, we only have room for Charlie Sheen and Lindsay Lohan in our cultural doghouse.

 

Beyonce

 

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by James Thurber

Thurber
 

Thurber is a revered American humorist, but I thought this autobiographical collection of essays was hit-or-miss.  Some of the stories (“The Day the Dam Broke,” especially) were laugh-out-loud brilliant; others ranged from mildly amusing to forgettable.  Thurber, like a turn-of-the (20th)-century David Sedaris, chronicles the comic misadventures of his oddball family members, but too many of the stories simply end, with no real point or punch line.

 

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