Welcome to WeeklyWilson.com, where author/film critic Connie (Corcoran) Wilson avoids totally losing her marbles in semi-retirement by writing about film (see the Chicago Film Festival reviews and SXSW), politics and books----her own books and those of other people. You'll also find her diverging frequently to share humorous (or not-so-humorous) anecdotes and concerns. Try it! You'll like it!

Category: Reviews Page 48 of 63

“Godzilla” Reappears Onscreen (for the 9th Time) to Mixed Reaction(s)

Just returned from seeing “Godzilla” and, Boy, am I confused! Here’s an actual line from the movie that sums it up: “You have no idea what is happening!”

I cannot refrain from writing something snarky about this movie. It cries out for snark. I would warn any of you who do not want your viewing of the film ruined that my snarky comments may contain “spoilers.” This assumes, of course, that you CAN spoil “Godzilla” after 9 attempts at bringing the Japanese “top of the primordial ecosystem” monster to the big screen. (And, sometimes, as in 1998, to the small TV screen).

Snarky remark #1) WHY was Bryan Cranston wearing the world’s WORST toupee?
Doesn’t Bryan have normal hair of his own, now that he’s no longer playing Walter White on television? What was wrong with Cranston’s real hair? I can’t decide which was the more horrible hair treatment: this thick brown dog-like rug or the Obama chia pet plant. It’s too close to call.

Snarky remark #2) So many good actors. So little for them to do.
By all means, stick us with that uncharismatic leading man nobody has ever seen before for 90% of the movie (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) when there are really good actors standing around doing nothing (or disappearing from the plot after 15 minutes).

Seriously, folks, Bryan Cranston, [fresh from “Breaking Bad,” possibly the Best Dramatic Series Ever on Television] takes THIS role? What’s wrong with this picture? [Of course, Jessie Pinkman (Aaron Paul) didn’t do any better with his first film foray, a fast car movie that sank like a rock].

French actress Juliette Binoche, from the 2006 film “The English Patient” and 2013’s “A Thousand Times Good Night” (a wonderful film which I saw at the Chicago Film Festival last year) played Cranston’s wife for about 15 minutes. What a waste.

Or, what about Sally Hawkins? Say it isn’t so, Sal!
She finishes co-starring opposite this year’s Oscar winner, Cate Blanchett, playing her blue collar sister in “Blue Jasmine,” a Woody Allen film
which Hawkins also was wonderful). So, next film: “Godzilla”? Sounds logical— (not). [Please tell me it’s not ALL about the money!]

The wonderful Japanese actor Ken Watanabe (playing Ishiro Serizawa) who was in such great films as “Inception” (2010); “Letters from Iwo Jima” (2006); “Memoirs of a Geisha” (2005); “Batman Begins” (2005) or, my personal favorite, 2003’s “The Last Samurai,” (where he played Katsumoto), now takes THIS part? Watanabe mainly looks puzzled throughout. “Blue Jasmine’s” Sally Hawkins looks like she could use a stiff drink.

And then there’s David Strathairn, who was in both “Lincoln” and “The Bourne Legacy” in 2012, the excellent made-for-TV film “Temple Grandin” in 2010 and, for me, most memorably, played Tom Cruise’s ne’er-do-well brother in “The Firm” in 1993. He is reduced to playing Admiral William Stenz, and coming up with a lame-brained plan to defend against Godzilla that sounds like a military action designed by George W. Bush and Donald Rumsfeld. Good actors are reduced to shouting lines like, “ARE WE AT FULL FUNCTION? TAKE US OFFLINE! DO IT NOW!” The poorly planned and even more poorly described or executed military defense against the mutant monster (“I guess we’re monster hunters now.”) makes “W’s” bombing of Iraq over non-existent yellow cake uranium look like genius.

Snarky remark
#3: I did like this line, “It’s gonna’ send us back to the Stone Age,” because, after “Godzilla” outings on film in ’54, ’67, ’77, ’78, ’84, ’94, ’98, ‘and ’99, I thought we WERE back in the Stone Age, if we’re still watching this giant lizard terrorize the populace. (And, let’s be honest: wasn’t half the original fun watching the dubbing that never matched the actors’ mouth movements? Good cheesy fun.)

There is only ONE survivor of the train disaster (Most Creative Use of a Train since the kids’ film “Super 8”)—who is, of course, Bryan Cranston’s son, Ford Brody (played rather wanly by a British actor no one has ever heard of, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, whose previous credits consist of “Kick-Ass” in 2010 and “Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging” (2008). [It’s difficult to know what this young actor’s name is, since it is listed as Aaron Taylor-Johnson, but when you look him up on IMDB, it says Aaron Perry Johnson.]

After 14 months away at war as a Navy demolitions expert, Ford Brody, returns to Elizabeth Olsen, playing wife Elle Brody and doing a good job, and his young son (C.J. Adams) but almost immediately has to jet off to bail Dad out of a Japanese jail.

Next thing you know, we’ve got MUTO (Massive Unidentified Terrestrial Organism), or, as I like to call it/ them: Mostly Uninteresting Tyrannosaurus-like Oddities. There are at least 3 of them…and there’ll be lots more if the female gets to lay her eggs. What do they eat? Why, radiation, of course. What do they look like? Hard to tell. As the old song goes (hum along): “A big tail here, a big tail there. A big foot here; a big foot there; Here a tail, there a fin, show ‘em o’er ag’in and ag’in.”

So, it isn’t until the odd monsters start fighting amongst themselves that we really get a good look at the entire clan. All I can tell you is that there is a creature very reminiscent of “Alien.” There are two flying horrors. There is a bear-like dinosaur-ish fire-breathing monster perhaps once seen swimming in Loch Ness. All of them are awkward and have trouble moving gracefully and, apparently, they don’t get along well—although why is not clear. (Watanabe murmurs: “Let them fight,” which is all the poor guy really gets to say; he mostly just looks worried.)

Here’s a line I enjoyed, from the botched military plan, proposed by Nit-wits #1 and #2: “This bomb we’re going to use makes the bomb we tried to kill it with in ’54 seem like a firecracker!”
Of course, no thought given to the fact that detonating a nuclear bomb just off the coast of a major U.S. city (San Francisco) would probably not be a very good idea. Just what we need: another half-baked military fiasco, planned with no back-up Plan B, and depending on (drum roll, please), Bryan Cranston’s son, Ford Brody, who has just returned from military duty, [so he isn’t even on active duty any more, but seems intent upon trying to get himself killed in either Hawaii, San Francisco or Tokyo]. The plot’s constant carping about how Ford Brody wants to return to his wife and child made me instantly think of Brad Pitt in “World War Z.” It was Brad’s insistence on a similar plot point that made THAT movie go waaay over budget when everything had to be re-shot, and now we have the same plot again. Only, this time, no zombies. Just MUTOs.

At one point, Ford Brody (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) announces that he can defuse a bomb in 60 seconds, which would have been helpful, since detonating an atom bomb that close to San Francisco would be a not-too-bright move, but then he falls asleep onboard a boat with the bomb, so good luck with THAT plan!

Are there no bright spots?

Well, I noted that John Dykstra’s name flashed on the screen, listed as helping design the awkward creatures. If you don’t know his name, look him up on Wikipedia, because he is The Man. I learned that the original score was composed by Alexandre Desplat, with Music Supervision by Dave Jordan and that it was recorded on Sony Pictures’ Barbra Streisand Sound Stage. (Who knew Babs had her own sound stage?) I learned that the film is dedicated to Richard Fowkes and Jake Foerster, who are almost as well-known as the film’s leading man, Aaron Taylor-Johnson. I learned that we bury our nuclear waste in Nevada’s Yucca Mountain, which sounded yucky. I learned that the list of stunt people and digital special effects people probably earned more than the combined GNP of several African nations. I learned that Godzilla maybe is “the good guy,” not the “bad guy, by film’s end?” [Although, if that is the case, why all the bombing and hostility?] I learned that they nearly blew up Oakland, California, but, if memory serves from my college days at nearby Berkeley, that would mainly take out tattoo parlors. (Please: no hate mail from Oakland; it’s a joke, Son.) And, ultimately, I learned that saying, “That’s gotta’ smart!” every few moments to my husband will eventually earn me a punch in the arm.

And, as my parting snarky comment, may I utter these immortal words, “Godzilla has left the building.”

KHAKI = KILLER Debuts; Free Kindle Days for Books #1 and #2 Listed

KHAKI_7AMy Young Adult Paranormal Thriller series, (with horrific overtones), is out and available for purchase from Amazon in both paperback and Kindle formats. I will also be autographing and selling the book at Printers’ Row in Chicago (Jun 7/8) at the IWPA (Illinois Women’s Press Association) tent and I will be signing and selling copies at the Book Rack in Moline on May 31 from 1 to 4 p.m.

To catch people up on the series, 3 books which build one upon another, THE COLOR OF EVIL will be FREE on Kindle on May 24 (Sat.); May 25 (Sun.); May 31 (Sat.); June 1 (Sat) and June 14 (Sat.) This book led all others in Stoker recommendations when it was released in 2012 and has won E-Lit, Silver Feather and Lucky Cinda awards.

The second book in the series, RED IS FOR RAGE, won Pinnacle awards in the Thriller category in 2013, was named a “Page turner of 2013” by Shelf Unbound magazine, a Silver Feather award from IWPA and its cover was named “Best of 2013” of independent books by Shelf Unbound magazine. RED IS FOR RAGE will be FREE on Kindle KDP program on June 15 (Sun.); June 21 (Sat.); June 22 (Sun.); June 28 (Sat.); and June 29 (Sun.)

*******************PRESS RELEASE********************

Connie (Corcoran) Wilson’s third book in THE COLOR OF EVIL series, KHAKI = KILLER is now available for purchase in both paperback and E-book formats.

Recently named a “PageTurner” by Shelf Unbound magazine, NABE Pinnacle Thriller winner, E-Lit Gold Medal winner and 2 time Silver Feather (IWPA) winner , The Color of Evil series describes the adventures of the young man (Tad McGreevy) with the power to detect auras around others (Tetrachromatic Super Vision) and, in his dreams, to relive the crimes of those with “the color of evil.”

KHAKI = KILLER picks up where RED IS FOR RAGE left off, with Melody (Harris) Carpenter fighting for her life after a fall from atop a human pyramid formation at the UNI Dome in Cedar Falls, Iowa.

The budding romance between Janice and Stevie grows more serious, but Janice’s parents oppose her relationship with the son of a murderer. There are more revelations about Earl Scranton’s motives. Other romances develop (Tad and Jenny; Charlie and Andrea).

When Heather Crompton and Kelly Carter mysteriously disappear, tension in town ratchets to a fever pitch. Retired police officer Charlie Chandler reorganizes the rag-tag team that helped find Stevie Scranton and bring him back to Cedar Falls, Iowa. This small band of volunteers must try, once again, to determine what could have happened to the two cheerleaders who disappeared while ice-skating on the Cedar River.

Michael Clay (aka, Pogo), still lurks in the background, searching for Tad McGreevy, and hoping to permanently silence “the boy who can see the future.”

Tensions run high and the stakes run even higher in KHAKI = KILLER, Book #3 in THE COLOR OF EVIL series.

Praise for Khaki= Killer:

“Connie Corcoran Wilson weaves a deftly fine scalpel in an age where a crude blade is more the norm. Her work is a smooth, subtle hybrid mix of science fiction, thriller, and horror that realizes a unique and pointed vision in the great tradition of Phillip K. Dick and Ray Bradbury. Her voice is a wonder to behold, at once dark and somber while maintaining a glimmer of hope that shines in the hearts of her heroes, who cling to the light. Like Stephen King, nothing escapes her discerning eye. The result is tale after tale that bleeds life onto the page, both literally and figuratively.”—Jon Land, bestselling author of the Caitlin Strong Series
(Best selling author JON LAND of the Caitlin Strong series).

“Connie Wilson is back—-She’s good! She’s DAMN good! In a world of mainly bad-to-fair writers, she stands above the crowd with plot, description , and strong character. Believe me, you’ll enjoy her latest! that’s a guarantee!…She’s a born storyteller!”—William F. Nolan, Living Legend in Dark Fantasy, “Logan’s Run,” “Logan’s World,” “Nightworlds”

“Wilson’s characters come alive on the page. Comparisons to Stephen King, Dean Koontz and Philip K. Dick aside, Wilson has spent 33 years teaching students in this age range. She knows what she is talking about.”—Gary Braver, author of “Flashback” and 8 other thrillers.

THE COLOR OF EVIL series is old-school psychological horror, artfully blended with new-school shocks and twists. ..Bravo!” —Jonathan Maberry, New York Times best-selling author, multiple Bram Stoker winner

Judges on “American Idol” Use One-Per-Season “Save” for Sam Woolf


HarryConnickJrOn ‘American Idol’ results night on Thursday, April 3, 2014, Judges Jennifer Lopez, Harry Connick, Jr., and Keith Urban used the one save they have per season to save Bradenton, Florida native Sam Woolf.
Confetti descended from the ceiling and his teammates hoisted him on their shoulders. For a minute, I thought I was watching a Jewish wedding.

Those in jeopardy of being eliminated, besides Sam, were Malaya Watson and C.J. Harris. It is nearly unbelievable that Malaya—who gave arguably one of the top two performances of the night—was rated so poorly by the audience in television land, but C.J. Harris should have been gone the second or third night that he sang sharp—(which was many shows ago).

As the evening opened, Jennifer Lopez came out wearing a hot pink outfit that was so short I hoped it was a skort and not a skirt. It was so noteworthy that Ryan Seacrest even commented. It was that kind of night.

Keith Urban
looked as though his stylist had worked overtime on his hair, to give it that casual look (lots of product, I’m thinking) and Harry Connick, Jr., wore a suit and tie to give the panel the air of gravitas and hold down his role as the Grand Old Man of judging. (He is also arguably the most knowledgeable musician sitting at the judges’ panel and a welcome addition after last year’s Nicki Minaj/Mariah Carey year).

There was an odd segment where Randy Jackson was pictured sitting so close to Ryan Seacrest on a blue couch that you wondered why “the Dawg” didn’t move over to the right and give poor Ryan a seat. On the other hand, Randy has been almost non-existent this season, and it has been the best season for judges ever, if not for contestants.

The very first contestant announced as safe (Dexter) was wearing a baseball cap backwards. I read a remark recently that went something like this: “Dude, unless you’re directing a major motion picture, lose the baseball cap.”

Others declared safe, in order, were Jena, Caleb, Jessica and Alex. Then the lowest three (Sam, Malaya and C.J.) suffered through the final moments before Sam—who reminds of a young Ricky Nelson—sang for his life and was given the save for this season. When the judges announced they were going to use the save on Sam, confetti fell from the ceiling. (I wondered if this confetti is rigged each and every week, for whatever contestant might have the save used to keep him in the competition, or if the judges were told the results in advance).

The other notable appearance of the night was former contestant Chris Daughtry. Ryan Seacrest reminisced about the look on Chris Daughtry’s face when he was cut from “American Idol.” I remember it well: a look of complete astonishment and dismay. I guess the final joke is on “American Idol” when non-winners like Jennifer >Hudson and Chris Daughtry go on to greater stardom, while winners like Ruben Stoddard and Chris Allen (who beat Adam Lambert!) are barely heard from again.

Majesty Rose Eliminated from “American Idol” on March 27, 2014

Majesty RoseThe seemingly inevitable happened on March 27, 2014 “American Idol” elimination night. The talented Majesty Rose was eliminated. Meanwhile, the always-sharp (as in off-key) C.J. Harris sailed on into further competition, despite his inability to sing on-key.

Majesty Rose ended up in the bottom three with Sam Woolf (as I predicted in a piece posted earlier in the day). She then had to sing for the “save” and it was a song about how happy she was. Not good. The judges chose not to save the talented-but-always-in-the-bottom-three Majesty Rose.

As the program began, the first 2 to be told they were “safe” were Jena Irene and Malaya Watson—which was predictable, based on their Thursday performances.

Then a break occurred so that Janelle Monae could sing her new song “What Is Love?” from the Rio soundtrack. A brief plug for the new sit-com “Saving Jack” with Christopher Meloni and Rachael Harris occurred, as they were seated in the audience. The new comedy follows “American Idol.”

The next performers told they were “safe” were Alex Preston, Jessica Meuse, Caleb Johnson and Dexter Roberts. That left only 3 performers onstage: Majesty Rose, C.J. Harris and Sam Woolf. This was roughly what I predicted would occur earlier in the day.

At this point, Ryan Seacrest asked for some remarks from Jennifer Lopez but Harry Connick, Jr. answered, “I think America is really smart this season. It’s all about what you did the night before.”

Following those words of wisdom, Majesty Rose had the unenviable task of singing a song about happiness while no doubt, feeling very sad. It was nice to see Malaya Watson give Majesty a big hug as the program ended. I also enjoyed the brief portion of the program when they returned from commercial and Ryan Seacrest’s sound was turned off.
There were no purple gummy bears or shoe thefts, as occurred on Wednesday night’s program, as the mood was considerably more somber. The field is now down to eight, and the cream is rising to the top. If you wonder which performers seem to be on the rise, which are falling, and which are simply marching in place, read my earlier post.
And then there’s C.J. Harris, who just keeps on keeping on, no matter how off-key he may be.

Jason Bateman’s “Bad Words:” “The End Justifies the Mean”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mc-x6tXjUcQ

Jason Bateman is a veteran character actor, familiar to audiences for his work on television’s “Arrested Development,” playing Michael Bluth, straight man to a cast of eccentrics. Bateman attributes much of his success to how he approached that role, saying, “It was a show the industry watched, as opposed to America. The people who hand out jobs watched it.”

And Bateman has been handed a lot of jobs since “Arrested Development.”

To be accurate, young Jason was acting long before that, starting at the age of 12 in 1981 with a recurring role on “Little House on the Prairie,” as well as with roles as varied as some on “Silver Spoons,” “Knight Rider” and “The Hogan Family.”

It was the latter series that gave him his first directorial experience at the age of 18, making him the youngest director in Directors’ Guild history and, also, allowing him to follow in his father’s footsteps. (His father was a director, actor and writer.) Jason’s older sister, Justine, was a regular on the Michael J. Fox sit-com “Family Ties” and he has been married (since 2001) to one of Paul Anka’s daughters, Amanda, (with whom he has two daughters). She plays the role of the National Public Television narrator in the film.

In “Bad Words,” Jason has the opportunity to return to directing
. His work is informed by such dead-pan black comedies as “Being John Malkovich” and “King of Comedy.” Bateman told Michael Phillips of the Chicago “Tribune,” “The comedy I’m most drawn to is a little tougher to market. Even though I’ve been involved with some high concept studio fare (think “Juno,” “Identity Thief,” and “Horrible Bosses”), I’m drawn to something a little more tamped down. A film like ‘Being John Malkovich,’ there’s no pie in the face. We used that one as a tonal example—a tonal and aesthetic example…I knew that because we weren’t spending a lot of money we wouldn’t be asked to wink a lot or to rewrite the script so there’d be some big set pieces they could cut a trailer with. I didn’t want them thinking we’d even have a shot at recouping on the first weekend, because the movie looked glossy or super-commercial.” So, right away, the theater-goer should realize that they’re in for a quirky sort of comedic turn, like Billy Bob Thornton’s “Bad Santa.”

The super-funny “Bad Words” features Bateman as a 40-year-old malcontent who never graduated from 8th grade and has spent the past 40 years “making bad decisions” and proofreading warranties for a living. A lot of his problems stem from childhood issues originating with his father. He has now found a loophole for entry into The Golden Quill Spelling Bee that will allow him to annoy the hell out of Grand Poo Bah Dr. Bowman (Philip Baker Hall) and the woman in charge, aka, the Queen Bee, Dr. Bernice Deagan, played by Allison Janney. [Janney is a well-known face from her work on “The West Wing” and is pitch-perfect in her role of someone just a little bit too fond of rules and regulations. Barbara Bush would say she is a “rhymes with witch” but Bateman/Dodge would just come right out and say she is a colossal bitch].

Bateman’s character is the same glib trash-talking character Vince Vaughan and Billy Bob Thornton have played in countless comedies. He is truly representative of someone who just doesn’t care what other people think or say about him. He is going to have HIS say whether they like it or not.

That, in fact, might well be an accurate one-line summation of the entire plot of “Bad Words.” And many audience members will find that kind of independence and courage liberating.

Sure, there are reasons (revealed as the plot develops) why Bateman’s character Guy Trilby behaves the way he does. A follow-up article in the March 24th Tribune by Steven Zeitchik attributed all the potty-mouthed misbehavior (as well as that of predecessors like Archie Bunker and Jonah Hill) to our current climate of political correctness, where any little joke can spell doom if offense is taken by any group of any kind. It doesn’t matter whether the joke is at the expense of an ethnic group, midgets, or an inanimate object: SOMEONE is bound to take offense. Therefore, characters in films by Judd Apatow, Todd Phillips, the Farrelly brothers, Adam Sandler and others—(all the way back to W.C. Fields)—-say what they’re thinking, which so many of us no longer have the freedom to do, and that is considered subversive in today’s society. Some find it offensive. Some find it liberating and secretly are muttering, “You go, Guy.” (Pun intended)

“Bad Words” was directed by Bateman from a script by a first-timer, Andrew Dodge. Dodge told Zeitchik, “I think comedies have gotten a little vanilla. We’re so afraid of offending, so it’s a reaction to that.” He added, “That makes independent filmmakers more willing to be bold.” The spec script for “Bad Words” kicked around Hollywood for years. A studio executive said to Dodge, “This is funny, but could Guy start helping the kids in the third act?”

Dodge’s response? It’s superhard to make a character likeable enough that you still want to watch him, but hateful enough that it’s still funny.”

Steven Zeitchik postulates that the film is a “Rambo”-like rise of a new type of Superhero: the male hero jerk</strong>. I’m not as convinced that there’s anything “new” to a comic jerk in the tradition of W.C. Fields. I laughed at the clever, smarmy way Bateman pulled off eliminating the other competitors, one by one—even though his methods were underhanded and less-than-honorable. He displayed the kind of psychological warfare that allowed one team to dominate this year’s Super Bowl or allowed Muhammad Ali to defeat the likes of Sonny Liston, 50 years ago. It was strictly, “All’s fair in love and war.”

Still, when Bateman is calling his Indian opponent Chaitanya Chopra (Rohan Chand) “Slumdog” and throwing lines at that adorable Indian boy that sound racist, it can be offputting. In telling the boy not to call a soft drink “soda pop” Guy says, “I’d just say soda. Otherwise, you’re just gonna’ get raped.” You do get the feeling that his young charge really enjoys the adult male attention and that, alone, may be enough of a reason to excuse some of Guy’s bad influence. At least he IS an influence in the lonely young scholar’s life, unlike the rigid father figure who is glimpsed coaching his kid in their own secret strategy to get rid of the competition.

When Guy is placed in a room that is actually the storage closet of the hotel, [a futile attempt to discourage him from competing] and co-star Kathryn Hahn (who plays Jenny Widgeon), the reporter who is his accomplice helping him gain access to the Golden Quill Spell-Off and with whom he occasionally gets it on (while she, all the while, screams, “Don’t look at me!”) asks about her missing underpants, Guy tells her he hasn’t seen them, noting, “I probably would have seen them. I have no sink, no closet and no bathroom.” Guy dubs his miniature admirer “a little Quaker” and, after encouraging him to let loose with some dirty words asks, “And did your soul just burst into flames?”

In other words, Guy is a horrible role model for young children, but his smirky Vince Vaughn-like delivery is hilarious to a slightly jaded and cynical older audience. This is NOT Family Friendly Fare, but the adults should give themselves a chance to feel a little naughty as they watch Guy and his young charge misbehave. Is this a good way to go through life? Probably not. On the other hand, there IS a compelling reason that Guy is the way he is, and you just know that, sooner or later, that will come into play to explain all the previous shenanigans. And maybe some of the more frequent movie-goers will find it a little bit too transparent early on. (“The Sixth Sense” this isn’t.)

The movie definitely is filled with blue language. There are many situations that any self-respecting parent will decry as setting a bad example, just as the employees of “Office Space” were not candidates for Employee of the Year but were funny as hell. For this viewer, the movie was a hoot. It was made even funnier at the Icon on Roosevelt in Chicago by a man a few rows behind me to my left whose loud laughter sounded exactly like explosive farting.

There was a lot of it from my fellow theater-goer on opening night, and even writing that line now makes me smile.

So, if you are not easily offended and enjoy making fun of stuffy, pompous events like The Golden Quill (and, Lord knows, I certainly qualify after my last post), you will find this movie hilariously entertaining. I’d put it in a comic indie category with the film “Cedar Rapids,” which featured Ed Helms and John C. Reilly and was similarly entertaining.

“American Idol” of March 19, 2014: Who’s In It to Win It?

C.J. HarrisSo, who did well and who did poorly on “American Idol” on March 19, 2014?

There are 10 contestants left. Who was—far and away—the worst of the lot this night?
That one is easy to answer, since C.J. Harris singing “Invisible” by Hunter Hayes was so far off-key that it was painful to listen to. The judges all noted this—some more kindly than others. Keith Urban started off the criticism, saying, “Tonight it was really shaky with staying in tune.” He went on to try to soften the blow of his criticism by saying, “I understand it. I’d really encourage you to work on it, because you have everything else going for you.” (I’m tempted to state the obvious, “A singer who can’t sing in tune: Hmmmmmm.) Jennifer Lopez added, “This wasn’t what it should have been,” and both Urban and Lopez made mention of what a great job C.J. had done during rehearsals. This prompted Harry Connick, Jr. to reveal that that is why he never goes to rehearsals. “I want to see what happens when the red light goes on.” Harry said, “You really seem to feel the lyrics. It’s a discipline thing. You have a tendency to sing sharp. You can do it. You have the discipline to do it, but you must get the pitch thing under control.”

Uh….Hear! Hear! (Pun intended).

Most of the early singers did not set the stage on fire, with M.K.—red streaks in her newly-pouffed hair—stumbling gracelessly around the stage singing “Perfect” by Pink. Dexter followed, singing Georgia Lines’ song “Cruise”, with Connick being particularly explicit in his critique, calling it “meandering” and “bereft of joy.” Keith Urban said he liked the beginning of the song, but not the end. I agree with Harry Connick, Jr.

By the time Jena sang “Clarity” by Zed featuring Foxes, the crowd was ready for something better, and Jena delivered it. Keith pronounced it “the best performance of the night, so far” (which didn’t take much) and the light stick distributed to the crowd and Jena’s urging the crowd to wave them in time to her song was the mark of a more-polished performer than those who preceded her. Jena admitted to a love for electronic music, which caused Harry Connick to say, “I can really see you succeeding in that. I’m starting to get a really clear idea of who you are.”

Alex Preston got the most glowing reviews of the night for his rendition of “One Direction’s” song “The Story of My Life.” Usually, Harry Styles and the boys share the singing, no doubt somewhat based on range. Alex did it all and earned comments from Harry that Alex had “really hit the bull’s eye with the artistry. Really nice choices.” Keith echoed the praise, saying, “I thought that was really good, Brother,” and with Jennifer adding, “I loved it. You were very comfortable. You were like Buddy Holly, but without the glasses. You evoke greatness.” While I agree that Alex did, indeed, deliver, I question whether he has the crowd appeal of a Philip Phillips, last year’s winner.

Caleb Johnson came at some point after Alex with his loud rendition of Lady Gaga’s “The Edge of Glory.” Harry pointed out the obvious: Caleb has a powerhouse voice and few of the other contestants can match him for straight-out volume. Harry (Connick) compared the contest to David and Goliath saying, “You’re smart to do it.” He awarded Caleb an “A+” for originality, saying, “You do loud really, really well.” Keith was less impressed, finding the piece “lumbering” and Jennifer said she didn’t feel anything when Caleb sang, except that he could deliver power like no other contestant. A comment was made about the consistency with which Caleb delivers the goods.

Malaya, who had the dubious honor of immediately following Alex Preston, did a great job of selling Bruno Mars’ “When I Was Your Man.” Jennifer remarked on how Malaya sang “tenderly, beautifully, with so much feeling” and delivered the lyrics unchanged. She pronounced Malaya’s version “awesome.” Keith also praised Malaya for leaving the song alone and developing more vocal control. Harry Connick, Jr., —often the harshest critic—said, “You were completely present in every single word…The thing I liked was how sincere you were with every single word.”

So, score one for Malaya, Alex and Jena and deduct points from C.J., M.K. and Caleb.

Jessica Meuse sang “Pumped Up Kicks” by Foster the People, which sounded very country. Jennifer said, of the song, “It fell right in your wheelhouse.” Harry pronounced her rendition(s) to be “one-dimensional” and Keith felt it had a “sixties country pop beat.” Comments were made about the fact that the lyrics are bleak, but the beat is so upbeat, with Harry expecting more of the message of the song to register in Jessica’s face as she sang.

Majesty Rose sang “Wake Me Up” by Avicii, prompting Harry to say, “I love what you did. I think you’re really smart,” but Keith didn’t find the completely folk version to his liking and Jennifer Lopez commented that she “saw fear” for the first time, following Majesty’s falling into the bottom three last week. I liked Majesty Rose tonight and I liked her from the beginning. This is usually the Kiss of Death on a night when my alma mater lost in overtime to Tennessee for the NCAA tournament berth.

Last, but not least, Sam Woolf sang “We Are Young by Fun featuring Janelle Monae. The program was running out of time, but Jennifer said, “I loved it. You sounded so much better than last week” and the other judges urged Sam to be more “assertive” and to “Come out on the stage and own this.” Sam is the cutest boy left, so I doubt if he’ll be cut.

It will be interesting to see if the rest of America is so tone-deaf that they couldn’t hear how poorly C.J. Harris’ performance was. There was much talk of how he was making barbecue sandwiches last year at this time. I fear he may be returning to making and wrapping BBQ, if the viewers at home are honest.

However, given the politics of things, it will probably be someone who gave a superlative performance (Alex comes to mind) who will not garner the votes.

Personally, I loved Malaya’s Bruno Mars song, thought Sam (Woolf) picked a great song for such a youthful-in-appearance singer, and enjoyed Jena’s glowstick schtick. I’m also confident that Caleb will deliver (again) with a better song next time, and I hope that Majesty Rose makes the cut. As for the rest: meh.

Spike Jonze’s “Her” Is Nominated for Best Picture of the Year: What Are Its Chances?


Spike Jonze, former husband of Francis Ford Coppola’s director daughter Sofia (1999-2003) has created, in this year’s Oscar-nominated film “Her,” a futuristic tale of how things might become. Or perhaps it is a tale of how things already are?

Spike Jonze (birth name in 1969, Adam Spiegel) is a three-time nominee in the 2013 Oscar race, with his film nominated for Best Film, Best Original Screenplay (for which it has already won Golden Globe and Writers’ Guild of America Awards) and for Best Song (“The Moon Song”). Jonze was also nominated as Best Director in 1999 for “Being John Malkovich,” scripted by Charlie Kaufman, so this makes 4 nominations.

Will “Her” win the Best Picture Oscar on March 2nd?

No, but it has a very good chance to pick up Best Original Screenplay, and—given the fact that, somehow, all the music from “Inside Llewyn Davis” escaped nomination—“The Moon Song” and/or the song from “Frozen” would seem to be potential favorites for Oscar gold on March 2nd.

“Her” is an odd film about a man who falls in love with his operating system in a futuristic city meant to represent Los Angeles of at least ten years (if not more) in the future. Everyone has an ear bud in his (or her) ear, and no one talks to “real people” any more.

This is foreign territory for me, because I rarely turn on my cell phone and only give the number out to people I don’t want to talk to. I hate the idea of being “tracked” and telling the world, “Just ate at the House of Pies” (as one Facebook friend always does), and I’m not impressed with “apps” at all, [unless I’m trying to avoid a tornado at the time—then, I like them].

But that’s because I’m Old School, of the generation(s) that actually talked to one another, rather than “LOL-ing” our way from Facebook to Twitter to Pinterest to Tumblr to My Space to whatever the next online fad might be.
I do remember that, when I had to begin using a computer (1985) to write a book (29 years ago now) I was alone among my peers in even HAVING a home computer. Nobody else had computers much in the Heartland. Maybe they did in Silicone Valley, but they didn’t play in Peoria—or anywhere within 200 miles.

For one thing, the Internet was in its infancy (Al Gore hadn’t invented it yet, I guess) and all messages flew across the screen as Egyptian hieroglyphics, which required several painstaking steps to convert to regular English. Practically the only online “source” was the Department of Education at One DuPont Circle, and only AOL was a factor in “the olden days” of computer technology. Son Scott (one year older than Spike Jonze/Adam Spiegel) had a distinct advantage over his schoolmates in having a humongous WANG PC in his basement, courtesy of Performance Learning Systems, Inc. which hired me to write a book and insisted I use the WANG PC to do it. (I just love saying WANG PC!)

If it weren’t for Scott’s ministrations, I would never have figured out how to do anything on this behemoth with the gigantic laser printer, and, today, Scott troubleshoots computer programs for steel companies written by his United Kingdom Company, Broner Metals,located in Sheffield, England. Do I feel that his early exposure to computer technology in our basement in East Moline, Illinois, when he was 17 years old, helped him to gain an advantage over his less fortunate peers? Yes, I do. Does he? No idea.

I mention this generation gap only because I think it has a lot to do with how audiences will perceive and react to the film. If you’re past 45 or even older (God forbid, because we’re all supposed to simply keel over quickly after retirement so that our children don’t have to pay even higher money in to the broke Social Security coffers to support our feeble elderly selves) or even older, “Her” won’t resonate as much as it will for the younger generations, which my 26-year-old daughter confirmed. (*Aside: have you ever noticed how women’s magazines never have a decade category past 50? Recently Christie Brinkley at 60 and looking 30 made the cover of “People” magazine, but you rarely see women touted as “attractive”–or even alive–in their 70’s and 80’s. We are all supposed to be good little parents and die off quickly in our 60’s, even if we look like Christie Brinkley!)

If you are my son’s age (and, also, a fan of Weezer and the Beastie Boys and Kanye West and Jackass and all the other groups Spike Jonze has been involved with during his video-making career
) you may find this film wonderful. If you are younger than 45 (Jonze’s age) you may find it spectacular. If you are “mature” (euphemism for “old”) you may just find it a “meh” experience—except for the futuristic sets and the first-rate script.

As an oldie-but-a-goodie, I found it curiously lacking and weird as entertainment. For me, the single line that best summed up the film was one spoken to Joaquin Phoenix’s character, Theodore Twombley, by his blind date, when she says, “You’re a creepy dude.”

No matter what part he inhabits, Joaquin Phoenix IS a “creepy dude.” The Old Man pants pulled up to his armpits [as humorously engraved in my brain-pan forever by favorite comics like Jeff Altman and Martin Short], may echo what I see happening in men’s fashion right now (i.e., they seem to have run out of material, so Adam Levine and his contemporaries are wearing tight, short jackets and tight, short pants) but that just adds to the “meh” moment(s) that the AARP generation will experience while viewing this film.

But the alienation issues addressed by Jonze’s script are happening right now. I could definitely relate to the lines that sum up angst as experienced by many o
f us. Example, explaining his divorce to friend Amy Adams: “I think I hid myself from her and left her alone in the relationship.” This bit of wisdom may be a personal note on the demise of Jonze/Spiegel’s own marriage to Sofia Coppola. Indeed, many have speculated that the busy on-the-go photographer who rushes off and abandons his lovely wife in a hotel room to be wined and dined by Bill Murray, (played by Giovanni Ribisi in Sofia’s film “Lost in Translation”) represented the problems in Sofia’s own 5-year union to Spike.

Whether that is true or not (Sofia says “not”), the lines in this film seem intensely personal but the emotions, as expressed by Scarlett Johanssen’s tour de force vocal performance, are Words of Wisdom that many of us can relate to in our current 2014 lives. The observations are universal truths. It’s no wonder that the Original Screenplay category is one for which this film has received the nod this year. Here’s another gem: “I sometimes think I’m going to feel all the emotions I’m ever going to feel.” Or how about, “I want to discover myself.”

The speaker of that last line is the OS1 operating system Samantha, who is seeking discovery, because she is, —well, a disembodied voice. But Theodore is so lonely and estranged after his marriage to his childhood sweetheart founders that the comforting voice of a machine becomes human to and for him. Soon, Samantha, the disembodied voice, is his love interest, telling Theodore, “You helped me discover my ability to want.”

Of course, as the script notes, love is a form of socially acceptable insanity and having a machine for a wife means that you don’t have to cope with the reality of actually dealing with anything “real.” That, in fact, is what his ex (played by Mara Rooney) tells Theodore when they meet to sign the final divorce papers. Theodore’s ex had a childhood with demanding parents for whom her best was never quite good enough. Theodore was able to restore some of her self-esteem in the early days of their marriage (Is this hitting too close to home?), but, ultimately, he was not enough to mend her. Theodore constantly reminisces (in flashbacks) of happier times. My favorite glimpse of the couple showed them wearing traffic cones on their heads. I got the feeling that Theodore would have taken his ex back in a heartbeat—especially since he has been reticent to sign the final divorce decree and his dating life is a disaster, complete with a hilarious phone sex service scene.

But, as so often happens IRL (in real life), the path of true love seldom runs smooth(l
y).

After the initial “honeymoon phase” of their relationship, complete with phone sex and longing for face-to-face contact (as if anyone in this futuristic society gets THAT anymore!), Theodore even begins to find tiny, niggly little things about his Vocal Dream Girl that annoy him, like the way she takes a breath when speaking. Then he discovers that she sometimes is speaking with more than just one person, when she pledges her love. How many more? A LOT more! A male voice in the audience actually cried out, “Oh, no!” at this betrayal of the flesh-and-blood Theodore by the mechanical Scarlett/Samantha voice. It was an amusing moment. I wasn’t sure if the audience member was being sincere or sarcastic.

Another line that is gold: “You’re always disappointing someone.” Or how about, “All I do is hurt and confuse all those around me.” (How many of us have had THAT feeling a few times in life? Hmmmmm?)
Ultimately, one of the messages that resonated with me the most was, “We’re only here briefly, and, while I’m here, I want to allow myself joy.”

Kudos to Amy Adams who plays Theodore’s good friend in the building, as well as to Chris Pratt (“Parks & Recreation”) and to Hoyt Van Hoytema, who has done a fantastic job of creating a futuristic world with his cinematography, shot in both Shanghai and Los Angeles.

And while we’re praising Scarlett Johanssen’s sexy vocalizations (she replaced Samantha Morton, for reasons that are not quite clear), listen closely for Brian Cox’s easily recognizable voice as Alan Watt, a dead philosopher who has been recreated in the unreal world that Samantha inhabits and may be (one of) Theodore’s rivals for Samantha’s affections.

If you ever saw “Three Kings,” you may know who Spike Jonze/Adam Spiegel is, after all, as he portrayed the dimwitted, bigoted Conrad, as directed by his good friend David O. Russell, [who is, himself, up for an Oscar this year for “American Hustle” (and was similarly nominated for “Silver Linings Playbook” last year).]

Let’s put it this way: if you’re coming off directing “Being John Malkovich,” “Adaptation” and “Where the Wild Things Are,” you have a pretty good streak going, and, while I, personally, will not recommend this film to anyone in my age range as “entertainment,” the thoughts in the script and the message about how we all long to connect to someone and how it is becoming increasingly more difficult to do so with each new technological advancement (I use the term ironically) was interesting and thought-provoking.

And, besides, I got to say WANG PC at least four times in this review, and that, alone, made me smile.
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Oscar Race, 2013, Predictions One Month Out

Academy Award Predictions for the 2013 Oscars in the Main Categories

matthew_mcconaughey1_300_40I’ve been watching magazines (like “Entertainment Weekly”) predict the potential Oscar nominees for Best Actor in advance and score only 3 out of 5. (They missed with Tom Hanks and Robert Redford). True, they did better in other categories, but as someone who covered the Chicago Film Festival and has seen nearly all of the nominees, it’s time to share my view(s) on who will win. After all, it’s over a month away.



Best Picture of 2013

Bruce Dern at the Chicago Film Festival, nominee for "Nebraska."

Bruce Dern at the Chicago Film Festival, nominee for “Nebraska.”

The nominees are: “12 Years A Slave;” “American Hustle;” “Captain Phillips;” “Dallas Buyers’ Club;” “Gravity;” “Her;” “Nebraska;” “Philomena;” and “The Wolf of Wall Street.” First of all, let me say that there were enough good movies out there this year that the Academy could/would/should have picked 10 films, but it is my understanding that, to make the list, a film has to receive enough first-place votes from Academy members, and, obviously, films like “Inside Llewyn Davis,” “August: Osage County” and “Blue Jasmine” didn’t quite make the cut. Why? Beats the heck out of me!I’d say they were too much “downers” as movie fare, except that “Blue Jasmine,” in particular, has some very funny moments, and “Dallas Buyers Club” is hardly frivolous fare.

"American Hustle" is David O. Russell's second great film in 2 years. Maybe it's his year for Best Director?

“American Hustle” is David O. Russell’s second great film in 2 years. Maybe it’s his year for Best Director?

If I were to put the list above in order, entertainment-wise, I’d be hard-pressed to pick a favorite between “American Hustle” and “Captain Phillips.” For me, “12 Years a Slave” started much too slowly, was too depressing, and did not accurately depict what life would have been like for a free man in 1841 in the North. Steve McQueen, its director, is British, and I think he must have missed the Jackie Robinson film “42,” which depicted the struggles of blacks (even Jackie Robinson) to crack the color barrier as recently as the sixties. No way would a black man in 1841 in the North in Washington, D.C., have been served in the fancy dining room (seated with white men), attired as a fop, nor lived in the very fancy house he returns to at film’s end. I also did not like the hanging scene. From the standpoint of veracity, I will never believe that the other slaves depicted tip-toeing around in the background wouldn’t have helped poor Solomon out of that noose, since the slave master(s) had disappeared from the scene. However, having these negative things, I do think that the Best Supporting Actress award should go to new-comer Lupita Nyong’o. (For my money, the SAG awards got it right most of the time).

Cate Blanchett in "Blue Jasmine" was pitch perfect. Why wasn't the film nominated as Best Picture?

Cate Blanchett in “Blue Jasmine” was pitch perfect. Why wasn’t the film nominated as Best Picture?

However, if you hold my feet to the fire and say, “Rank order these films in the order of which ones are really good movies that I will enjoy,” I’d start out with “American Hustle” and move to “Captain Phillips” second.

"Gravity" with Sandra Bullock and George Clooney (briefly).

“Gravity” with Sandra Bullock and George Clooney (briefly).

After that, “Dallas Buyers Club” was a revelation. I recognize the achievement(s) of “Gravity,” but it was a boring film a lot of the time, despite its technical achievements. I look for the Academy to award those achievements and perhaps its Director, but not the film. I think the feel-good film (“American Hustle”) will win out over watching the wicked slave owner Edwin Epps (excellently played by Michael Fassbender) whip Patsy till she damn near dies. I regret the omission of “Blue Jasmine,” a truly funny, yet heartbreakingly honest film. The minute I saw Cate Blanchett’s performance, I took my husband back for a second look, since it was such a good film and she was phenomenal in it. Let me be honest here: I’ve not (yet) seen “Her” or “Philomena;” I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be swayed by either. “The Wolf of Wall Street” contained good performances, but it was way too long and seemed rather self-indulgent on Scorsese’s part to carry scenes on so long when the point had been made 20 minutes earlier. (I’m thinking of Leonardo DiCaprio’s many scenes exhorting his troops of brokers.)

So, Best Picture: “American Hustle”—-when “Blue Jasmine,” which wasn’t even nominated, was its equal and so was “Captain Phillips,” a truly heart-thumping Paul Greengrass effort with his trademark quick cuts, which have made Matt Damon’s outing in the Bourne series so great.

Director: Even though David O. Russell deserves it, for directing both “Silver Linings Playbook” and this year’s “American Hustle” (and, many years ago, “Flirting with Disaster,” one of my All-Time Favorite comedies), the Academy will give it to “Gravity’s” director, Alfonso Cuaron, which I can live with. I realize he overcame some daunting technical issues to make this space epic so realistic, but, quite frankly, the best line I’ve heard about “Gravity” was from Tina Fey when she told the Golden Globes audience that George Clooney floated away after 10 minutes so he wouldn’t have to spend any more time with a woman his age. (I paraphrase loosely). That was part of the problem. One-person movies are not as riveting as those with an actual cast that hangs around. Yes, I know that “Castaway” was well done and that Robert Redford’s effort this year was good, but, for me (and most other movie-goers) watching one person onscreen for a couple hours gets boring after a while. Sorry. It’s just the way it is, Tina Fey funny remarks notwithstanding.

Best Actor: Nominees-Christian Bale (“American Hustle”); Bruce Dern (“Nebraska”); Chiwetel Ejiofor (“12 Years A Slave”); Matthew McConaughey (“Dallas Buyers Club”); Leonardo DiCaprio (“The Wolf of Wall Street”). I’ve bold-faced the winner. I could give you all the (good) reasons why, such as his great year appearing in “Mud” and his superb cameo in “The Wolf of Wall Street,” which is one of the film’s most memorable moments. I will give you that both Tom Hanks and Robert Redford were snubbed, especially since Hanks not only had “Captain Phillips” but, also, “Saving Mr. Banks.” Nevertheless, the momentum is with the letter “M” and he will be joined onstage by his co-star Jared Leto, as Best Supporting Actor. Why not Best Film then? Too depressing, overall, but a really, really good film. (*It played in the Quad Cities for about 2 days, so I had to drive all the way to Chicago to see it; I think it’s coming back, however, so be sure to catch it if you are a true film buff).

Meryl Streep in "August: Osage County" is nominated once again.

Meryl Streep in “August: Osage County” is nominated once again.

Best Actress: Nominees –Amy Adams (“American Hustle”); Cate Blanchett (“Blue Jasmine”); Judi Dench (“Philomena”); Meryl Streep (“August: Osage County”); Sandra Bullock (“Gravity”). I’ve not seen Judi Dench, but both she and Streep and Bullock have won previously, so there’s that to consider. The bottom line is that Cate Blanchett’s performance was pitch perfect, at times, funny, always touching and just perfect. She deserves it.

Best Supporting Actor: Nominees – Barkhad Abdi (“Captain Phillips”); Bradley Cooper (“American Hustle”); Michael Fassbender (“12 Years A Slave”); Jonah Hill (“The Wolf of Wall Street”); Jared Leto (“Dallas Buyers Club”). This performance as a trans-gender male is outstanding. Leto deserves it, also. While the Somalian pirate was a wonderful debut by Minneapolis resident Barkhad Abdi, it’s his first film and we’ll have to see if there is a big market for Somalian pirates in future films. (Abdi hopes so, because he already has moved to Hollywood and plans to act.) Michael Fassbender was good, as always. I’m bummed that Jonah Hill got the nod while Tom Hanks and Robert Redford were ignored, but oh, well. Alfred Hitchcock never won, nor did Richard Burton and Hanks and Redford have at least won Oscars previously. Leto was just absolutely spot-on.

Lupita Nyong'oBest Supporting Actress: Nominees-Sally Hawkins (“Blue Jasmine”); Jennifer Lawrence (“American Hustle”); Lupita Nyong’o (“12 Years A Slave”); Julia Roberts (“August: Osage County”); June Squibb (“Nebraska”) Frankly, I think Jennifer Lawrence was a bit young for the role she played in “American Hustle.” She’s definitely Hollywood’s “it” girl, right now, but that isn’t a good enough reason to give it to her. Julia Roberts has already won. If Lupita doesn’t get the trophy she so richly deserves for playing Patsy, I’d enjoy seeing either of the 2 lesser-known nominees (Sally Hawkins or June Squibb) be so honored. This is the “Wild card” category that I would “wheel” if I were entering contests, because Jennifer Lawrence is the front-runner. I’m voting with my heart and remembering how many times there have been upsets in this category.

So, to sum up, my winners (given the nominees) are: “American Hustle”
Director – Alfonso Cuaron
Best Actor – Matthew McConaughey
Best Actress – Cate Banchett
Best Supporting Actor – Jared Leto
Best Supporting Actress – Lupita Nyong’o
How much you want to bet I can get at least 3 out of 6 right to rival “Entertainment Weekly’s” nominee predicting?

Reviews of “Dr. Sleep” (Stephen King) and “The Cuckoo’s Calling” (J.K. Rawlings)

Stephen King's "Dr. Sleep."

Stephen King’s “Dr. Sleep.”

While vacationing in beautiful Cabo San Lucas, I caught up on all the many magazines I had been meaning to read AND read two novels that were also on my “to read” list.

The first book I completed (in 2 days) was Stephen King’s “Dr. Sleep,” a continuation of the young boy Danny Torrance from “The Shining.” Dan Torrance is now middle-aged and called upon to aid a 12-year-old girl (Abra Stone), who also has the special power called “the Shining.”

The book held your interest and picked up quickly. Stephen King is a master of limning characters quickly, with small details like the tee shirt they wear or an expression they use, and he creates many characters that capture your interest. They are also characters for whom we will be rooting as an evil cult called The True Knot, led by the evil Top Hat wearing Rose, searches for small children with the same special power that Dan and Abra possess. No child is safe from the cult’s vampire-like tendencies. Our fear that the group will find Abra ratchets up the tension in the beginning and middle portions of the novel.
Towards the end, with all the astral projection and the emphasis on Dan’s skill at guiding the dying in hospice towards death, I began to become slightly queasy. This had more to do with some things going on in my own life with a hospice patient than with the book.
I remember thinking that the book is probably only the first that will focus on the female YA protagonist, Abra Stone.
I also was surprised to find a proofreading error on page 206 in the first paragraph of the “your/you’re” variety (“Like when you were eating breakfast, you’d wonder if your missing….”). It made me feel slightly better to realize that the most successful author on the planet, with the might of Simon & Schuster behind him, can have these simply errors (that Spellcheck will never find.)

J.K. Rawlings' "The Cuckoo's Calling."

J.K. Rawlings’ “The Cuckoo’s Calling.”

“The Cuckoo’s Calling:” This is the adult mystery that J.K. Rawlings wrote under the pseudonym “Robert Galbraith” until the publishers (Mulholland Books) realized that the book was not selling under the pseudonym, but would if people knew it was written by Harry Potter’s creator.

The main character in the novel is Cormoran Strike, a down-on-his-luck private eye with a fake leg from his tour of duty in Afghanistan. Cormoran’s personal life is complicated, as he is the bastard son of a famous man and his mother, a groupie, died under mysterious circumstances which Cormoran has never accepted as suicide.
It is, therefore, a bit hard to accept an assignment to investigate the apparent suicide of a beautiful model who fell to her death from her apartment balcony in Kentigern Gardens. The model, Lula Landry, is the adopted daughter of a rich society maven, and I couldn’t help but think of Rihanna when descriptions of the lovely girl were provided. I imagined that John C. Reilly would be a good fit to portray Cormoran, Rihanna as Lula and that the relationship between Lula and her rock star boyfriend was probably modeled on that of Kate Moss. The black rapper from America (Deebee Macc) sounded suspiciously like Kanye West (pre Kim Kardashian) and his sidekick was a Biggie Smalls sort.
Cormoran only takes the job in the first place because he knew Charlie Landry when they were classmates together in their youth. Charlie fell to his death in a quarry and Lula was adopted to fill the void created by his passing at a young age.

There is also Tony Landry, Lula’s uncle (brother to her adoptive mother) and Rochelle, a young black girl living in a homeless shelter that Lula befriends while trying to “find her roots.”
Cormoran has had a love/hate relationship with the beautiful Charlotte for years, and, in this book, his secretary Robin—although engaged to Matthew as the book opens—-seems to be headed towards becoming Cormoran’s replacement romance for the feckless Charlotte.
The plot is quite convoluted and intricate. Near the end, it takes about 10 pages just to explain all the ins-and-outs to the reader who has just struggled through it all. (And I haven’t even mentioned the venal Bestigui clan, who live in Lula’s apartment building and whose wife, Tansy, says she witnessed the fall.)

There are so many likely suspects posited that the author succeeds in keeping us guessing till the bitter end. I have to admit that I left the book for quite a while, however. This was not because it wasn’t interesting, but was because I was reading it aloud, in the car, to my spouse, and I didn’t want to read ahead without him.

However, when I finished “Dr. Sleep,” I had no choice but to finish the mystery of what happened to Lula Landry, whose nickname from her designer friend Guy Some, was “Cuckoo” (hence the title).
The first book I completed (“Dr. Sleep”) was so named because the adult Dan Torrance has the unique ability to assist the dying in hospice to shuffle off this mortal coil with less angst, and is thus called “Dr. Sleep” by his hospice colleagues.

William F. Nolan, Author, Pens “Nolan on Bradbury” About his 60-Year Friendship with Ray Bradbury

William F. Nolan’s book “Nolan on Bradbury” (ISBN 978-1-61498-058-2), is one great writer’s tribute to another great writer and even greater friend. As the back cover says, “Sixty years of writing about the Master of Science Fiction.” It’s Bradbury, of course, who is described as “the Master,” but it would be more accurate to say, “One Master of Science Fiction describes his 60 years of friendship with another Master of Science Fiction.”

We learn such interesting things (unknown to me previously) as the fact that Bradbury initially tooled around Los Angeles on a bicycle. He never learned to drive; later, he was chauffeured everywhere. Or there’s the interesting irony that the man who saw space as the final frontier was, himself, afraid to fly for many years. (He did, eventually, get over his fear of flying.)

Nolan, known as a Living Legend in Dark Fantasy himself and perhaps most famous for co-authoring “Logan’s Run” with George Clayton Johnson, includes many wonderful stories of his own such as “And Miles to Go Before I Sleep,” which he wrote in 1957. This surprise-ending story evokes Bradbury’s typical tale.

In fact, “And Miles to Go Before I Sleep” was so much like Bradbury at his best that Norman Corwin (radio director/producer/writer) once told Bill Nolan that “And Miles to Go Before I Sleep” was his favorite Bradbury story. When Bill informed Corwin that HE, not Bradbury, was the true author of the piece, Nolan then acknowledges, “Without meaning to, I had written a new Bradbury story.”

And what a great story it is!

There is another story, “The Joy of Living” that summons echoes of “The Stepford Wives” or of my own story of a man who builds a robot wife in the attic to replace his own shrewish flesh-and-blood bride (“M.R.M.” for “Maude Replacement Machine” which appeared in “Hellfire & Damnation II,” my 2012 short story collection for which Jason V Brock wrote the Introduction and in Slices of Flesh.) I can relate to all of William F. Nolan’s work, long or short, and I hope he continues writing forever. I could say the same about Ray Bradbury’s body of work.

I can honestly say I had not read William F. Nolan’s short story “The Joy of Living” before writing my own serio-comic take on robots as mates, but I have received great encouragement from this prodigious writer, who has encouraged me even as others were hurling brickbats. In this way, Bill Nolan—whom I first met while interviewing him in 2008 for an online magazine—is also like his mentor Ray Bradbury.

Bradbury provided invaluable encouragement and assistance to Nolan when he was still a struggling but talented author, still trying to make up his mind whether he was meant to be an illustrator (Nolan worked for Hallmark) or a writer.

It is clear to me that Nolan made the right choice in choosing to write. I hope he continues to write books like this one for many more years to come.

There is a great section on Bradbury’s collaboration with John Huston on the script for “Moby Dick,” which Bradbury was hired to write. Written on location in Ireland, Huston could be a hard taskmaster, and Bradbury, who had not read the book before accepting the assignment, read it up to 9 times and rewrote the script up to 30 times, producing 1,500 pages to finally get 150 pages that were filmed with Gregory Peck as Captain Ahab. Twenty electronic whales were used, a process that took 2 and 1/2 years and cost $4,500,000.

Bradbury’s rise from the ranks of pulp fiction and his breaking into the slick magazine ranks of “Saturday Evening Post” and “Collier’s” is celebrated. His success acknowledged his talent and elevated science fiction (and, to a certain extent, writing horror), to a position of far greater acceptance.

Bradbury, the man, emerges as a mentor, much like Nolan himself has been to me and others. An established author, Ray Bradbury took the time to critique the ending of a story that Nolan had written, which became Nolan’s first sale. William F. Nolan took the time to critique my first novel “The Color of Evil” and suggested edits for the end (which I incorporated) making it the first (of 3) in the successful “The Color of Evil” series. (“Khaki = Killer” will come out in March and “Red Is for Rage,” Book #2, came out this year). The first book led Stoker recommendations in the YA (Young Adult) category with recommendations all year. It did not make the final cut for reasons that would provide enough plot for another novel, when we want to concentrate on Bradbury’s miraculous Martian stories here.

I will never forget William F. Nolan’s kindness to me when some others were anything but kind or fair. Bill’s association with rising young talents Jason V (and Sunni) Brock —(who also eulogizes Bradbury at book’s end)—demonstrates that he is an established writer who recognizes and nurtures talent whenever and wherever he encounters it. He doesn’t require the individual to be someone important in the field—someone who can somehow benefit him politically. William F. Nolan is about the work, as was Ray Bradbury. He gives of his own remarkable talent generously, in the Bradbury tradition, as he experienced it over nearly 60 years of friendship.

I was deeply touched by Bill’s story of his final meeting with his old friend, shortly before Ray Bradbury died at 91 on June 12, 2012. In poor health, weakened, slightly deaf, senses failing, Ray grasped William F. Nolan’s hand and said, “Thank you for being in my life.” I could say the same to William F. Nolan.

I just spent 9 hours at my 95-year-old mother-in-law’s side as Hospice came to counsel someone dying from congestive heart failure and pneumonia. In helping her to her feet (she can no longer walk, as both hip replacements have failed and one hip is entirely out of the socket), she grasped my hand and kissed it. Trying to honor her wishes to die at home, we have been present daily, caring for her and watching what I call “the long, slow, fade to black”–a final chapter that eventually comes for all of us. It is hard. I’ve buried both my parents and been through this twice before. It does not get easier, especially if, as with my father, there IS no hospice and you are caring for a man terminally ill with liver cancer in a very small town with very little help.

I could repeat that exact same sentence to Helen. (I will soon try, if I can keep from crying as I say it.) The steady parade of hospice workers asking uncomfortable questions about funeral homes (“Which funeral home do you want to go to, Helen?”), inquiring about “do not resuscitate” orders, bringing in oxygen machines—all this made this particular very small part of Bill’s book so touching that I actually broke down in tears.

I had to set the book aside for a while. I hope it was not too long a delay, because this is a truly enjoyable read and in no way somber for the average reader.

For example, Bill repeats a delightful story about how Bradbury used to wait outside the studio gates to get autographs of famous movie stars like Douglas Fairbanks, Gracie Allen and W.C. Fields. W.C. finally scrawled his name (Bradbury still had the autograph) and said, in W.C. Fields fashion, “There you go, you little SOB.”

For most of the pages of this wonderful tribute to a good friend, comrade and mentor, you will read new stories and old and learn things about Ray Bradbury’s interaction(s) with the world that you probably did not know. You will marvel, once again, at the output of BOTH of these creative geniuses; it will not sadden you at all.

The only part I would have liked to have seen omitted were these end comments by S. T. Joshi (p. 255): “It is a bit sad to note that the best of his (Bradbury’s) work had largely been written, with rare exceptions like Something Wicked This Way Comes by the late 1950’s. Bradbury, more than most authors, has written far too much and has also in some senses believed his own press and become a self-consciously literary author. Little that he has written since the 1960’s is of any account…”

THAT I could have lived without, S.T. Especially after you admit to never having met the man. Hard as it was for me to accept, even Richard Nixon was eulogized warmly after death.

With a talent this remarkable, a man who died shortly before publication of this book picking apart Bradbury’s later stories before he is cold in his grave just comes off as mean-spirited and petty, when the subject of this book and the author who wrote it are generous and giving.

The harsh criticism—even though it is just a few paragraphs at the very end of the Eulogies— could, perhaps, have waited for another day and another book.

William F. Nolan and Connie (Corcoran) Wilson in Austin, Texas, at the WHC writing conference.

William F. Nolan and Connie (Corcoran) Wilson in Austin, Texas, at the WHC writing conference.

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