2017: A Literary Year in Review

According to my Goodreads account, I read 96 books in 2017. I didn't review them all on this blog as you would mostly get a string of posts about me squealing about divine historical romance novels or classic British murder mysteries. But looking back on 2017, literature served as a continual reminder of the greatness of the human mind and the ability of language to set fire to the imagination. So below, I give you a selection of books that tickled my fancy over the past year (you can also use the "Literature" label on the blog to find posts about all the books I did review). And if you are crafting some New Year's Resolutions, I exhort you to try to read more in 2018. It gave me great pleasure, and I promise, if you find the right book, it will give you great comfort too.

Short Stories: Uncommon Type by Tom Hanks is the actor's first foray into literary fiction. I was charmed and delighted by this book - the stories are all bound together by a common theme of typewriters (Hanks is famously an avid typewriter collector) but they are also bound together by a whimsy and flair for the unusual that is the hallmark of any good short story collection. There is a story about a mindnumbing press junket in Paris, a funny story about a man who bowls a perfect game, a bizarre trip to outer space, and a vast array of weird characters and strange plots that guarantee you'll find at least one story that sticks with you. But if you don't have the patience to try out a new author (or you eschew anything written by a celebrity), might I suggest a collection by George Saunders (if you're looking for something darkly comic with weird futuristic undertones) or any of David Sedaris's books (if you're looking for the hysterical memoirs of a man who has lived a terrifically interesting life)?

Fantasy Fiction: Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy was one of the highlights of my adolescence (though I needed to re-read in adulthood to comprehend the Biblical allegory that had passed me by as a teenager). Therefore, I was beyond excited to get my hands on a copy of La Belle Sauvage, the first in his new Book of Dust trilogy that is set a few years before the events of His Dark Materials. This tale is wondrous, as richly imagined and intriguing as any of Pullman's previous works, and it was such a joyous pleasure to dive right back into this world that is so familiar to our own and yet so different in the most fundamental ways. We all managed to wait seventeen years to get this book, but now that it's here, I can't imagine having to wait even longer to see how the rest of this trilogy pans out.

Non Fiction: One of the most un-put-downable books I read, that I ended up talking to loads of people about, was Sapiens by Yuval Noah Hariri. If you don't want to take my word for it, this book also comes highly recommended by Barack Obama and Bill Gates, so put that in your pipe and smoke it. In a brief 400-odd pages, you will end up getting an entire history of mankind, from our nomadic hunter-gatherer ancestors, to the potential superhumans we will become in the future. Along the way, this book challenges all of our preconceptions about why we do things the way that we do - why our lives are governed by our alarm clocks, why agriculture destroyed our peace of mind, and whether or not we have much of a future ahead of us or are doomed to extinction. It's alternately a bleak and fascinating read, and if you're questioning your existence during these troubled times, this might be the book for you.

Rollicking Fiction: Sometimes you just want a book stuffed with interesting characters getting up to interesting shenanigans that all come to a satisfying conclusion. Two books involving hilarious family drama that will take you on a ride and deliver you back to earth with a jolt are The Nest by Cynthia D'Aprix Sweeney and The People We Hate at the Wedding by Grant Ginder. Both are stories about family misunderstandings and miscommunication, and you will experience a love-hate relationship with all of the characters until their authors cleverly suss out what their motivations are. These books will hold you in their thrall and help you forget your own family dramas for a while - doesn't that sound enticing?

Celebrity Memoirs: Gabourey Sidibe's This Is Just My Face: Try Not to Stare is both hilarious and touching, as evidenced by that title. Her personal story is remarkable, and her ascent to fame is astonishing, more so because of the struggles she overcame and the nonchalant manner in which she can talk about them. Early in the year, I also read Anna Kendrick and Lauren Graham's memoirs, which were both perfectly entertaining for anyone who is a fan of their work, but Sidibe's memoir is a worthwhile read for anyone, regardless of whether you have any idea of who she is or not. The story of how the daughter of a subway singer and a Senegalese cabdriver ended up in a movie produced by Oprah? What are you waiting for?!

Books About Books: Finally, one of the last books I read in 2017 was William Deresiewicz's A Jane Austen Education. This book brought it back full circle for me. I didn't love Austen when I first read Pride & Prejudice as a thirteen-year-old, but when I revisited her the year before college, it was a whole other story. I devoured all six of her novels, re-read them numerous times in various Victorian Novel courses, and am always the first to watch any new Austen adaptation that the BBC sees fit to fling my way. A Jane Austen Education is the memoir of a fellow Jane-ite, an English graduate student who initially thought Austen was insipid, only to discover the various lessons contained within her writings that changed his life. Reading this book made me want to re-read all my Austen novels, and honestly, if you've never read any Austen before, I don't think there's a better resolution you could make for 2018 than to pick up a copy of this book, and then a copy of Pride & Prejudice.

Call Me By Your Name: Love is Love is Love

Call Me By Your Name is a love story, pure and simple. Based on the novel by Andre Aciman, all it does is tell the story of two men in a town somewhere in northern Italy in 1983 who slowly find their way to each other over the course of one of the most spectacular summers ever captured on film. There is no judgement, there is no gay-bashing, there are no heightened stakes and villagers with pitchforks. It is simply a gorgeous tale of uncertainty, passion, and self-discovery.

Timothee Chalamet (an actor who seems destined for multiple Oscar nominations for the rest of his life) plays 17-yr old Elio, the precocious son of an archaeology professor and a sophisticated Italian woman who spend their summers and holidays in their Italian villa. Every summer, his father invites a graduate student to stay with them, and this year, they are joined by Oliver (Armie Hammer), a brash and beautiful blond American, who seems to live his life out loud, in stark contrast to the quiet and introspective Elio. However, before long, an attraction sparks up between the two, and much of the movie consists of a tentative tango between the two men as they try to determine whether they are reading the right signals.

That's the basic plot, but there's so much more to it in terms of nuance and expression. There is very little dialogue in this movie and the romance plays out almost exclusively through tentative looks and touches. Every moment between these two men feels packed with emotion and erotically charged, and when they finally come together, they both express disappointment that they wasted so much time trying to figure out how the other person felt. It's an emotion the audience will feel too, because there is nothing more beautiful than seeing this relationship spark to life on screen.

I watched this movie during a particularly frigid New York winter evening and yet for two hours I felt blissfully warm and content. Cinematographer Sayombhu Mukdeeprom will transport you into Italy for the duration of this film, making you long to swim in the sun-drenched waters of the Mediterranean and drink fresh-squeezed apricot juice all day long. The conversations between Elio and his family members and the servants made me laugh as they reminded me so much of my own chats with family - over the course of a simple conversation, one might meander through three or four different languages. Elio will switch from English to French to Italian from one sentence to the next, and it all lends more authenticity and panache to this idyllic world where people are free to live their lives and experience everything that this gorgeous setting has to offer.

It's hard to say much about this film apart from simply urging people to watch it. It is a mood piece, an atmospheric and masterfully told story that seems to soak into your skin. You don't really watch this movie; you feel it. I felt like I was a part of this world, a fly on the wall as various little family dramas took place, and I could have easily spent more languorous hours with these characters. Sufjan Stevens contributed two original songs to the soundtrack, and while the first one came out of nowhere and was a little jarring to me, by the time "Mystery of Love" started playing, I was wholly invested in this film and haven't been able to stop humming the tune for the past three days.

Towards the end of this movie, the marvelous Michael Stuhlbarg, who plays Elio's father, has a monologue. This would be considered his "Oscars clip" but putting aside such jaded considerations, it is a perfect summation of everything this movie stands for. It is a beautiful rumination on the nature of love and a reminder that life doesn't always have to be a painful and fraught endeavor, but something that can bring you joy and wonder too. The final scenes of the movie are the reason Chalamet will win a million awards, but are also the perfect bittersweet ending to a movie that has held your heart in the palm of its hand for its entire runtime. Call Me By Your Name hurts, but it is a joyful experience too. 

The Last Jedi: Star Wars, According to Hume

As I've mentioned previously on this blog, I'm not a Star Wars fan, but I've become one by proxy because I have so many friends who love the movies. Their enthusiasm was infectious and got me excited in the past two years for The Force Awakens and Rogue One. I wasn't in the country when The Last Jedi premiered, so they all saw the movie without me and raved about how good it was (all except for my curmudgeonly colleague Phil, who seemed to think it was abysmal). Well Phil, I'm shocked to say that I halfheartedly agree with you. Will wonders never cease.

One of the thrills of watching The Force Awakens was hearing the iconic theme song and seeing that opening crawl on the big screen for the first time. That thrill has not subsided, and I was in the tank for this movie when it began. The epic action sequence was an excellent way to kick off, brimming with stellar dogfights and human-droid repartee between Poe Dameron and BB-8. Unfortunately, after that battle, things took a bit of a turn. And perhaps here is where it might have helped to see this movie with my friends instead of by myself at an ungodly hour of the morning.

There's nothing I can really point to as being wrong with this movie. It is perfectly exciting and answers a lot of questions raised in the first (well I guess I should say seventh) installment of the franchise. There is a great deal of character development, and strides to include more women and diverse actors in this universe so that white men don't get all the screen time. But boy, it starts to drag on a bit. From other people's reviews of this movie, I gather that they love the nuance and complexity it brings to the classic fight between the Dark and the Light. But is that what I really watch a Star Wars movie for? Sadly, nope. I'm just a fickle fan who's in it for some lightsaber action.

Look, I get it. This franchise wants to be taken seriously, and writer-director Rian Johnson has done mighty fine work in the past, and continues to do so from a technical standpoint in this movie. The new creatures were fun, the new planets were interesting (I particularly loved the final battle sequence, where the red salt was the most in-your-face-but-PG13 representation of the bloodiness of warfare), and all of the storylines collided in a satisfactory way after everyone spent ages doing their own thing in various locales. But that satisfying conclusion and forceful beginning bracketed a sluggish middle that proved to be far too philosophical for me to handle.

If you're a die-hard Star Wars fan, you will probably love The Last Jedi. If you're not, you might still find much to love from a film-making perspective. Ultimately, I was ambivalent. It had some comedic flashes, action galore, and many badass women, but overall, now that the Force is awake, I find myself uninterested in moral discussions about its use. Unless it involves some lightsabers.

While You Were Sleeping: The Best Christmas Movie

Recently, someone asked me if I could recommend one movie over all others, what would it be? After stalling and declaring this to be an impossible question, I finally confessed that I would always pick While You Were Sleeping. When pressed to answer why I love this movie so much, I found I had so many reasons that really, it was a travesty I hadn't officially declared my love on the blog. So today, on Christmas Day 2017, I give you my reasons for why While You Were Sleeping is the Best Christmas Movie ever.

1. Sandra Bullock. In 1995, Bullock was at the height of her stardom (well, I say height; she has peaked and never come down since, as far as I'm concerned). As Lucy Eleanor Moderatz, she is the most relatable and adorable woman portrayed on screen. Lucy works for the Chicago Transit Authority, and at the beginning of the film, your heart bleeds for her when she is forced to take the Christmas Day shift as she is the only employee who has no family. When she crushes on a commuter that she sees every day but has never spoken to, you completely understand that kind of silly, unrequited love. And when she saves said commuter after he is pushed onto the train tracks and then accidentally gets mistaken for his fiancee by his entire family, you are 100% down for this lady to bag her prince and get whatever she wants from this world.

2. The script. As detailed above, the premise of this movie is fairly absurd and depends on a lot of hilarious misunderstandings that could only happen in the confines of a romantic comedy. But writers Daniel G. Sullivan and Fredric Lebow have written a script that makes you completely suspend your disbelief and fall for this story hook, line, and sinker. I don't care that so much of the film depends on Lucy getting overheard talking to herself some times but then completely ignored other times. All I care about is the whip-smart banter, never-ending complications, physical comedy, and sizzling romance when she meets her "fiance's" brother, Jack.

3. Bill Pullman. Oh, Bill Pullman. In 1995, he was a charming, crinkly-eyed, blond god. What with his work in this movie and Casper in the same year, he easily won my eight-year-old heart (yes, I have loved this movie since I watched it on a plane when I was eight; I told you, my love runs DEEP). There is something about his quiet, growly demeanor throughout this entire movie that will set any woman's heart on fire. And other parts. Anyhoo, that's enough about Bill Pullman, moving on...

4. The rest of the cast. Sandra Bullock and Bill Pullman are great and all (as is Peter Gallagher when he eventually wakes up from his coma), but this is really a movie about the gigantic, warm, and wonderful Callaghan clan. As an only child growing up in Bahrain, this large, boisterous, insane family was what I imagined every kid in America grew up with, and I loved them like they were my own. They have ridiculous conversations at dinner time, barge into everyone's business, keep forcing Lucy into awkward situations, but ultimately they are brimming over with so much love and genuine good-naturedness that you can see why Lucy wants to pretend she's a part of this family forever. Peter's godfather Saul (Jack Warden) was my first exposure to a Jewish person, and he taught me some Yiddish words that made no sense to me at the time, but definitely make sense now. And tearing myself away from the Callaghans, there's Joe Fusco, Jr. The irritating Italian son of Lucy's landlord, who is forever pestering her and being rebuffed. Even he gets a redemptive story arc that lets you see he has a good heart, even if he is a total clown. In While You Were Sleeping, there are no villains. Apart from Ashley Bartlett Bacon of course. 

5. The setting. It's Christmas. There are lights, twinkly trees, and bonhomie. There's snow. More importantly, there's ice outside Lucy's apartment, which leads to the single most charming and chemistry-laden scene in a romantic comedy. No human being can watch that scene without falling a little bit in love. Go on. Watch it. I dare you.

I have watched While You Were Sleeping so many times I have lost count. It is always on at Christmas time and if I come across it on TV, I will watch, whether it's just beginning or about to end. Every time I watch it, there's a new joke that makes me laugh, or an old one I had forgotten but can now appreciate again. There's another gesture or look that makes me sigh a happy sigh. There's a new Callaghan family member who becomes my favorite. This is the movie that makes me want to honeymoon in Florence and adopt a white Persian cat named Fluffy. I think it informed a large part of my fashion sense because Lucy always looks slightly disheveled and wears deliciously comfy, baggy sweaters, and now I can't imagine ever wearing a sweater that I can't hide my hands in.

Depending on my personal circumstances, watching this movie always takes on a whole new meaning. When I moved to New York and watched this movie for the umpteenth time, it felt like I was watching with fresh new eyes because I was an American now (also I finally understood the Yiddish). In medical school, I had a classmate whose name was actually Joe Fusco, and my opinion of him was forever tarnished. And when I was on the plane back from Singapore a few weeks ago, and saw that While You Were Sleeping was randomly one of the limited movie options on my Japanese airline, I pressed Play immediately. Because it was clearly meant to be.

The Disaster Artist: Birth of a Cult Classic

When I exited the theater after watching The Disaster Artist, I felt slightly hysterical. I couldn't stop smiling and kept erupting into giggles when I remembered random scenes from the movie. So yeah, I highly recommend watching this film. End of review.

Well fine, you probably want more information. Directed by James Franco, based on the book of the same name by Greg Sestero and Tom Bissell, this movie is about the making of The Room, a movie that came out in 2003 and is widely regarded as one of the worst movies ever made. When it came out, it folded in two weeks (it only lasted in the theaters for two weeks because Tommy Wiseau, the mysterious writer-director-producer-actor of the movie, paid for it to remain in theaters so it would be eligible for Oscar consideration) and made all of $1,800 despite an alleged $6 million budget. In The Disaster Artist, James Franco plays Tommy Wiseau, and what follows is a loving story of how the most bonkers film in the world got made.

Let me be clear - this is not a cruel movie. It fully recognizes what an absurd movie The Room is, and what a weird person Tommy Wiseau is, but it is crafted with such love and clear devotion to the source material that you will only feel the greatest sympathy for Tommy and the rest of the motley crew who put this insane production together. While none of them know what they're doing, they're doing it with such passion and gusto that you can't help but be swept along for the ride. James Franco's portrayal of Wiseau is pitch perfect - he has the deranged accent and speech pattern down, and I don't know what kind of wonders the makeup department did to his face or if the wig somehow pulls his face back, but he doesn't even really look like himself (apart from the occasional smile; there's no mistaking that Franco smile). He even manages to have one eye that is halfway closed, making the resemblance to Wiseau rather uncanny. 

The rest of the cast are equally perfect. Ari Graynor is wonderful as Julie/Lisa, who endures severe mortification during the infamous sex scenes, Dave Franco bumbles his way through the entire film as the blithely naive but up-for-anything Greg/Mark, and my personal favorite might be Josh Hutcherson as Philip/Denny, who echoes all of our thoughts when he asks Tommy exactly how old Denny is supposed to be (you will not get a satisfactory answer). In addition, Seth Rogen is hilarious as the hapless script supervisor, faced with the most inane script Hollywood has ever produced, while Jaclyn Weaver is charming as the elderly Carolyn/Claudette, who shows up to work every day because she is a truly dedicated actor, even if she can't get Tommy to explain anything about her character.

The scene featuring the film premiere, when the actors finally get to see what they worked on and are horrified by this bizarre movie (Ari Graynor whimpering, "is it still going on?!" echoes the sentiments of anyone who has watched The Room) is the natural highlight of the film. When the audience laughs and Tommy realizes that he has become a laughing stock yet again, there is an exceedingly sweet and supportive moment between him and Greg that turns the tide. That's the emotional beat that puts you wholly in Wiseau's corner and makes you glad that he eventually embraced the cult status that this movie went on to achieve. And right before the end credits, we see shot-for-shot remakes of some of The Room's classic scenes, which makes this whole journey exceedingly worthwhile.

A lot of people have said you don't have to watch The Room to appreciate The Disaster Artist. But I would say it would help you to truly understand the confusion the cast and crew must have felt throughout the filming of this nonsensical movie (thanks to my friend Katie who insisted I watch The Room first!). Perhaps the greatest achievement of The Disaster Artist is that it made me genuinely fond of The Room and understand why it has become such a cult favorite. I am now sorely tempted to attend a midnight screening and yell, "You're tearing me apart, Lisa!" along with a chorus of fellow moviegoers, who will never stop adoring this brilliantly awful movie. Also, if you're reading this, and your name is Mark? Oh, hi Mark!

In-Flight Entertainment: Rapid Reviews for the Holidays

There were a lot of movies I didn't get to watch in theaters this year, but I recently spent 40 hours on planes to and from Singapore, which allowed for a lot of in-flight movie watching. Below are some quick-fire reviews of the films I saw, all of which are worth a viewing depending on your mood during the holiday season.

Logan Lucky: From director Steven Soderbergh, this is an excellent heist movie a la Ocean's Eleven, except set in the South, with a bunch of people trying to rob the Charlotte Motor Speedway during one of the busiest days of the year. It's exceedingly clever, one of those films you'll probably end up watching a few times in order to understand all of the different nuances of the plan and how they coalesce to help our "heroes" steal piles of money. It also plays with stereotypes - you might start the movie thinking that these unlucky hillbillies don't stand a chance, but by the time you get to the end, you'll no longer have any doubts that they've planned this heist perfectly. Boasting an all-star cast of Channing Tatum, Adam Driver, Riley Keough, and Daniel Craig (gleefully leaning into his Southern accent like there's no tomorrow), and including cameos from uber-famous actors that feel like a lot got left on the cutting room floor, this is a funny and engaging movie that will keep you guessing till the end.

Home Again: Few things in life are as guaranteed to provide cozy comfort as a Nancy Meyers film. Well now, her daughter, Hallie Meyers-Shyer, has taken over the family business, writing and directing this glorious movie about a forty-year-old divorcee with two young daughters, who unexpectedly finds herself sharing her house with three aspiring male filmmakers in their twenties. Starring the always stunning Reese Witherspoon, this movie delighted me for many reasons. First, it lets its uptight protagonist let her hair down and have some fun. Then, after the sexy times are over, it focuses on actual friendships, and how these three men start to bond with her and her children and create an odd but charming family unit. And finally, it ends on a marvelously ambiguous note that lets the woman be in charge of her own destiny. Unlike most traditional romantic comedies, you won't get a neat and tidy resolution here, but you will walk away feeling very warm and happy inside.

A Ghost Story: This is certainly the weirdest of the movies I watched, and I can't quite say I liked it. But if you're the kind of person who enjoys surreal indie fare, this is the film for you. This is the movie starring Casey Affleck under a bedsheet, once he dies and becomes a ghost. Yes, you read that right. He dies within the first fifteen minutes, and the rest of the movie consists of him wandering around in a bedsheet. His spirit is unable to let go of the things he left behind on Earth and as you watch the world change around him, going back and forth in time, it's an odd meditation on love and loss. And the meaning of life? Maybe? It's not everyone's cup of tea, but the one thing I will say is that the costume designer of that bedsheet deserves an award. The sad black eyes seemed to speak volumes, and I've never felt quite so moved by such a weird character before.

Girls Trip: Hey girl heeeeey! This movie was definitely the raucous highlight of 2017. Four college friends (Regina Hall, Queen Latifah, Jada Pinkett Smith, and Tiffany Haddish) reunite after a long time apart in New Orleans for the Essence Festival. Chaos ensues, naturally, involving a great deal of booze, naturally, but also due to a lot of drama of both the romantic relationship and friendship variety. This is your classic buddy comedy except it features four incredible black actresses at the top of their game - none more so than Tiffany Haddish, who steals every single scene she's in, a la Melissa McCarthy in Bridesmaids. This Haddish performance is a complete assault on the senses from the first frame to the last and she is the reason this movie was the only comedy to gross over $100 million this year. While the film ultimately deals in a lot of cliches and wraps things up a bit too neatly, the journey is well worth it. These women share a genuine chemistry and bond of friendship that shines through the screen and makes this a trip you won't want to miss.

Rules Don't Apply: This movie was meant to be an Oscar contender last year but fizzled at the box office and quietly disappeared by December. However, as someone who is a sucker for old Hollywood stories, I found it rather endearing. Starring Lily Collins as a young naive starlet and Alden Ehrenreich as her driver who ends up falling for her, it's a film that has wild tonal shifts but begins and ends with a lot of promise. Warren Beatty stars as Howard Hughes, who becomes the fly in the ointment of the budding romance, and at times the movie isn't quite sure if it's trying to be a biopic, a romcom, or a drama. But the story is compelling, the actors are all charming, and the eventual conclusion is surprising, bittersweet, and satisfying. It's not a perfect movie, and if you're looking for a more fun glimpse of old Hollywood, you're better off watching the Coen Brothers' Hail, Caesar! But if you don't mind a little schmaltz with your Hollywood history, this movie might suit you just fine.

The Crown: Heavy is the Head

My favorite episode from the first season of The Crown was "Scientia Potentia Est" (and not just because that's Latin for "Knowledge is Power"). In this episode, the young Queen Elizabeth hires a private tutor to give her a proper education. She was raised solely to be a good wife, mother, and princess, but never to be a Queen who ruled most of the world's population. As a result, while she has a thorough knowledge of how to breed horses, she has a distinctly muddled understanding of art, literature, or world politics. Filled with self-doubt, she asks her tutor to give her an education that will let her talk intelligently with men like Winston Churchill without being outmaneuvered or out-debated. And yet, ultimately, it is her rigorous grasp of the British Constitution (the one subject drilled into her as a child) and her rank and bearing that help her to give Churchill the dressing down he deserves and assert her authority.

While the first season of The Crown felt like a marvelously lush history lesson, the second season manages to blend both history and psychology in fascinating ways. Building on "Scientia Potentia Est," the recurring theme of this season is Elizabeth's impostor syndrome and her hatred of the spotlight. Her family is no support, with a philandering husband, a wild sister, a clueless mother, and a fawning bunch of old-fashioned courtiers who continue to advise her as though the world hasn't changed since Queen Victoria's reign. In the brilliant Episode 5, "Marionettes," she comes under fire by peer-turned-journalist, Lord Altrincham, who points out just how out of touch the monarchy has become with the British public and suggests ways in which they must improve (suggestions that you may recognize as still being in place today).

As the season builds to its climax, we see a world-weary Elizabeth steadily grow a backbone and learn how to use her position to her advantage. In Episode 8, "Dear Mrs. Kennedy," Claire Foy turns in a particularly masterful performance as Elizabeth feels washed out and irrelevant when pitted against the glamorous American First Lady. Though the two women bond, there is an interesting dynamic at play, one which will be familiar to anyone who understands the complicated ways in which women help and hurt each other. Ultimately, they play their political games the way they know best, and they do forge a special bond that only women in positions of unimaginable power can share. But it is always a struggle, and as Elizabeth says, "that's the thing about unhappiness. All it takes is for something worse to come along to make you realize it was happiness all along." By the end of the season, it remains patently clear that here is a woman who will never truly embrace the role of being the Queen.

This season also gives us deep-dives into the psyches of other members of the Royal Family. Episode 9, "Paterfamilias," is an absolutely grueling exploration of Prince Philip's childhood and his subsequent treatment of his son, Prince Charles. It's a quintessential illustration of how the sins of the father are visited upon the son, and while it will make you empathize with Philip (mostly because Matt Smith is impossible to hate) and understand a bit more as to why he is such an irritating and odious figure throughout this series, you'll still take Charles's side and never quite be able to forgive his father. But the true star this year is Princess Margaret, played by Vanessa Kirby, who deserves Best Supporting Actress statuettes left and right. After her doomed romance in Season 1, she finds love in Tony Armstrong-Jones (played by the delicious Matthew Goode). The scenes leading up to Tony's proposal in Episode 7, "Matrimonium," are set to a devastatingly romantic Max Richter recomposition of Vivaldi's "Spring" that made my heart soar. And yet, these two people enter into this marriage for such twisted reasons that tragedy is inevitable.

The Crown is a breathtaking show with outstanding actors, impeccable production values, crisp scripts, and an ability to make history come alive in a personal and relatable way that feels fresh even after the events being discussed are decades past. There is a whole tirade by Prince Philip about how he underwent intense scrutiny when he wanted to marry Elizabeth despite the fact that his father was a King, while now Princess Margaret is freely allowed to marry a common photographer with a social-climbing mother. That scene feels particularly apposite given that Philip's grandson, Henry, is currently engaged to a biracial, divorced, American actress, who will probably do more for the Royal Family than any insipid duchess of "good breeding." So watch The Crown. Like all great history lessons, it teaches us how we went wrong in the past, so we can learn for the future. 

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri: Um, Yeah

Listen, I love Martin McDonagh. The Irish playwright and filmmaker is responsible for In Bruges, one of the best black comedies ever, and he also wrote the marvelous Cripple of Inishmaan, which I was fortunate enough to see on Broadway three years ago. So when I heard that he had a new movie starring Frances McDormand that was Fargo-esque except even darker, I was 100% on board. However, as much as I have revelled in McDonagh's ability to create really dark comedy, Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri is officially too dark for me.

Frances McDormand plays Mildred Hayes, a grieving mother who is furious that the local police have done nothing to find the man who raped and killed her daughter seven months ago. When she sees three empty billboards along a lonely stretch of road, she decides to rent them and plaster them with a message accusing the Sheriff of inaction in her daughter's case. Naturally this causes a ruckus in town, with the police officers enraged and townspeople taking sides on whether to support Mildred or the well-meaning Sheriff Willoughby (Woody Harrelson). Complicating matters are the actions of Officer Jason Dixon (Sam Rockwell) a man with serious anger and racism issues.

Based on that description, you must be wondering how on earth this even gets categorized as a comedy. And that really is owing to McDonagh's brilliance with dialog. There are moments throughout this movie where you will burst out laughing at the blistering language (like when Mildred sets down a priest) or a twisted action that is so weird and out of left field that you simply have to laugh. There's absolutely nothing predictable about this movie. From start to finish, you will have no idea what to expect next, and by the time you get to the end, you will leave the theater in a bit of a daze.

The trouble with this film, as opposed to McDonagh's previous work, is that he is poking at some very sore subjects here. A teenage girl has been raped and burned alive. Racism, domestic abuse, and police brutality have been hot button issues for years now, and the film's treatment of them seems gravely misjudged. No amount of filthy banter and camaraderie is going to make me feel OK about how certain white characters get a redemption arc and others are just stereotypical hicks. The film is violent, graphic, and jarring, and while every single performance is incredible, I'm surprised so many critics love it without reservation. Yes, these are talented actors, working off a surprising and novel script, but oh man. This is a problematic movie.

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri is up for a lot of awards and people seem to be in two camps about it. I really wanted to love it, but I shall be putting it aside as one of McDonagh's lesser works. Call me a snowflake if you will, but I cannot in good conscience recommend something that lets white people get away with so much in the name of "black comedy."

American Vandal: Profound Satire

Who knew that an eight-part true crime mockumentary investigating who was responsible for spray-painting 27 penises onto cars in a high school faculty parking lot could be so profoundly delightful? Certainly not me. And yet, I defy anyone to watch Netflix's American Vandal and not walk away with a sense of giddy glee.

The show purports to be shot by two high school boys, Peter and Sam, from the Hanover High School's AV club. They are investigating the aforementioned act of vandalism, and whether the accused, and subsequently expelled student, Dylan Maxwell, really did it. Following the footsteps of recent true crime fare that captured the public's imagination, like The Jinx or Making a Murderer, American Vandal is an intricate and precise satire that manages to both mock the format and glorify it at the same time. The genius of this show lies not just in the fact that it will make you laugh: it's true accomplishment is that it will genuinely make you care and eagerly binge eight episodes to discover if Dylan Maxwell really was guilty. It's genius television.

I don't want to go into further details because it's honestly a wonderful mystery that is plotted to perfection. You have all your standard high school cliques - the deadbeats, the hyper-accomplished, the nerds, the jocks. You have messy relationships that give people alibis and motives, student-teacher conflict that leads to much speculation and a breakthrough involving "splatter," and the gradual over-involvement of the documentarians with their subject as they become increasingly convinced that Dylan is innocent and must now find the true culprit.

The opening titles instantly indicate how well American Vandal understands the shows it's satirizing. From the mournful music to the perfect overlay of pictures of the crime, the potential perpetrator, and inexplicably, the ocean, it immediately sets the scene. And the actors know exactly how to portray people who know they are on camera, but are also regular people who don't actually know how to behave on camera. It's always a tricky feat to pull off (think of Jim's asides to the cameras on The Office) and these actors do an admirable job of appearing self-conscious but also excited to be interviewed about this ridiculous crime.

American Vandal gets all the details right. The characters and the way they lean into stereotypes and biases only to have their preconceived notions thrown back in their faces is spot on. The ramifications of being accused and how that affects your status in the wider community is captured beautifully. The animations to determine vantage points and the painstaking piecing together of Instagram and Snapchat footage to construct detailed timelines is riotously funny in its precision and ultimate silliness. And the emotional toll that this project takes on the filmmakers and the notoriety they gain throughout Hanover High encapsulates everything that happens when documentarians gets too close to their subject and must struggle to regain their objectivity.

I know the premise seems beyond insane and you cannot fathom why this show is becoming one of those word-of-mouth sensations that Netflix is so adept at creating. But believe me. Once you start watching American Vandal, you will buy in to the hype. This is by far one of the funniest things created in 2017, and I think we can all agree, we've never needed a laugh more.

The Deuce: It's Hard Out There For...Everyone

David Simon gave us The Wire, arguably the greatest television series of our time. In that show, he spent five series painstakingly exploring different aspects of Baltimore, from the drug trade, to the education system, to the police, to observe how all of these areas intersected and led to crime and disenfranchisement. So it makes sense that The Deuce, his series about the seedy Times Square area in 1970s New York that was overrun by prostitutes and porn purveyors, would be a meticulous look at exploitation, corruption, and good old fashioned capitalism.

There are multiple storylines that converge over the course of the first season's eight episodes. We start with the "traditional" pimps and hookers, watching how experienced prostitutes get through their day-to-day existence as well as seeing how the pimps scout girls fresh off the bus at Port Authority who can be lured into their dark line of business. However, we are also introduced to the somewhat unconventional Candy (played to perfection by Maggie Gyllenhaal), an independent hooker who prefers to watch out for herself and keep all her earnings instead of relying on a pimp to handle her finances. Her storyline proves particularly fascinating over the course of the season as we watch her struggle to figure out how she can transition out of her uncertain lifestyle and find a more stable career in the adult movie industry.

Then there's James Franco, playing a double role as Italian twins Vincent and Frankie Martino. Vincent is the most responsible one, trying to run a bar and move on with his life after being tied to an erratic wife for too long. Once he gets financing from the mob, he is able to own his own establishment and make his business dreams come true, but as he quickly discovers, that patronage comes with a price. In the meantime, his much more corruptible brother has no qualms about engaging in all manner of shady deals and helping the mob advance their ambitious agenda to transform the Deuce. We also have the NYPD patrolmen, Chris and Danny. While not particularly corrupt themselves, they take their orders from headquarters, and as they patrol the streets and deal with differing instructions from week to week, we quickly learn how the NYPD might be in cahoots with the mob, and the people on the street are mere pawns in a vast endgame to transform Times Square from a seedy intersection to a booming adult business.

The Deuce unfolds carefully and intriguingly, bringing in a host of characters from all walks of life and demonstrating how they all have their unique part to play in a clever conspiracy of greed. The fate of multiple people hangs in the balance, and it is only as you hurtle towards the first season's climax that you realize just how much they are puppets and the people at the top hold all the strings. Much of this show is dark and brutal: the women aren't treated well, the men are terrible, and just as often the women are terrible to each other and the men try to help. But if you take a step back, you will end up in awe of society's interconnected grand design. Seemingly unrelated spheres of influence can become enmeshed to have a ripple effect through multiple realms and you marvel at the ingenuity of human beings whilst simultaneously bemoaning the many ways in which they use their power for greed, instead of good.

Lady Bird: What It Feels like for a Girl

Sometimes you don't realize how much you needed a movie until you see it. Lady Bird is that movie. Following a summer filled with loud, action-packed entertainment, Greta Gerwig's directorial debut is a funny, affecting, and incandescent wonder.

A tale about a teenage girl navigating her senior year in high school in 2002, Lady Bird is perhaps the most profound look at female relationships I've seen on screen. The always magnificent Saoirse Ronan plays Christine "Lady Bird" McPherson (Christine is her given name, but Lady Bird is the name she has given herself). Like all teenage girls, she has a contentious relationship with her mother, Marion (played by a startlingly brilliant Laurie Metcalf). At school, Lady Bird's best friend is Julie (Beanie Feldstein, playing the most adorable and warm best friend you could hope for). They both attend a Catholic high school, and one of the side characters, the nun Sister Sarah Joan (Lois Smith) immediately reminded me of the nuns who ran my school when I was a child. It is so easy to mock Catholic high schools and their stereotypes, but instead, Lady Bird strives to portray both the silliness and grace in this environment. Yes, the girls might be secretly snacking on Communion wafers and complaining about skirt checks, but the nuns and priests are also kind teachers, who strive to do right by their students within the confines of a religious education.

It's hard to describe this movie any further because it would just devolve into a listing of all of my favorite scenes (which is pretty much all of them). Over the course of one year, the immature Lady Bird slowly grows up, making many mistakes along the way. There are encounters with boys (Lucas Hodges and Timothee Chalamet, playing two very different characters to represent the typical spectrum of teenage boyhood). Lucas Hodges, in particular, has a scene that is Best Supporting Actor-worthy in itself. There are the challenges with Julie, and the desire to get in with the cool kids that puts a strain on their friendship. And there is that turbulent relationship with her mother, a woman who has such a big heart, but simply does not know how to talk to her daughter without pissing her off. Their relationship will resonate with mothers and daughters everywhere - the moments when your mother just doesn't get it, the moments when you wish you could confide in her but don't, and the moments when you simply crumble and she knows exactly what to do. I will be shocked if Metcalf doesn't nab every nomination (and hopefully award) for Best Supporting Actress this year.

And of course, this brings us to Lady Bird herself, Saoirse Ronan. She is clearly writer-director Greta Gerwig's muse, and her every action and expression is reminiscent of Gerwig herself. Ronan commands the screen, making Lady Bird the most lovable weirdo I've seen in some time, and somehow, even though we led completely different lives, I still found myself relating to every moment in her life. That is a testament to Gerwig's storytelling ability. Even though the world and characters seem so specific to this time and place, the situations are universal, and you will find yourself remembering all the stupid things you did as a teenager (and continue to do now as an adult). If you're a parent, you will wholeheartedly relate. If you're a teacher, you'll understand. If you're a nun, you'll cheer at the portrayal of your fellow Sisters as something other than joyless harridans. And if you're a woman, you will rejoice at this acknowledgement of all the complex emotions and frustrations that make up your life and challenge you on a daily basis.

Greta Gerwig has stated that she wanted Lady Bird to serve as a female counterpoint to all the movies about male adolescence. She has triumphed in her endeavor. This movie is a pitch-perfect depiction of what it's like to be a teenage girl, and I promise you, even if you are reading this in some deeply conservative country or region where you would never get up to half the things that Lady Bird does, you will still understand this girl and what she's going through. I should know - I was a Hindu who went to Catholic school in the Middle East and am now an atheist in New York who still loves visiting churches. Lady Bird made me tear up at multiple moments and say "oh yes, I know what that feels like." It also helps that the use of Dave Matthews Band's "Crash into Me" was so perfect, it nearly destroyed me.

Lady Bird is a movie that sneaks up on you, starting off as a light comedy and gradually unleashing its tentacles into your heart until it has a strong grip and won't let go. I loved it and I have a feeling it will become a classic, the movie that teenage girls and adult women quietly revel in for years to come. 

Thor Ragnarok: Cosmic Comedy

The Thor franchise has always been regarded as a bit of a weak link in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. While Thor is fun as part of the ensemble cast in the Avengers movie, he tends to not dazzle critics in his standalone films (please note, I say critics, I have always been just fine watching Chris Hemsworth swashbuckle around the universe). However, this time around, Marvel handed the reigns for Thor: Ragnarok over to New Zealand director, Taika Waititi (if you haven't seen his remarkable Hunt for the Wilderpeople, you're really missing out). And in his weird and wonderful hands, we've gotten a light and comic masterpiece that is easily the best Marvel movie this year.

The premise is that Asgard (Thor's homeland) is under siege from his elder sister, Hela (Cate Blanchett), whose existence was hitherto a secret. Thor must team up with his brother Loki (Tom Hiddleston), who is not the most trustworthy person -- God of Mischief and all that -- as well as the Hulk (Mark Ruffalo), who has been going through some stuff for the past two years, and a Valkyrie, played by welcome addition to the MCU, Tessa Thompson. From start to finish, this movie is crammed with jokes. It opens with a standoff between Thor and a fire monster that is silly and satisfying, and somehow manages to make every fight seem both urgent and hysterical at the same time.

A lot of this movie was improvised (Waititi's previous directorial efforts include episodes of Flight of the Conchords) and that is evident in every scene where this extraordinary cast is allowed to play off each other and come up with inane quips. The tension between Thor and Loki has never been more amusing, the Hulk has never had more lines that he has in this film, and there are a bunch of oddball characters and delightful cameos to constantly tickle your funny bone (shoutout to Jeff Goldblum, being his Goldblum-iest). And there are a lot of random Kiwi and Aussie actors who pop up, so at times it feels like a Lord of the Rings reunion (the team of Galadriel and Eomer is quite the delight). It's a shame Cate Blanchett was the villain because I could easily watch five more movies starring her, but one can't have everything.

While the cast and storyline have much to recommend them, the most compelling feature of this movie is its artistry. Certain scenes look like a psychedelic Hieronymus Bosch painting (I mean, just look at that poster). It is absolutely gorgeous, whether we're talking about Hela's costumes or the chaotic set design of the alien planet Sakaar where Thor is stranded for most of the movie. For a man whose previous movies cost less than $10 million to make, Waititi really cracked the code on how to spend Thor's $180 million budget. And let's pay homage to that Mark Mothersbaugh soundtrack. It sets the tone for this entire film, a sort of disco, electronica wizardry that is only amplified by the incandescent use of Led Zeppelin's "Immigrant Song" at pivotal moments.

Thor: Ragnarok is what a superhero movie should be. Funny, action-packed (but not overwhelmingly so), visually arresting, and worth every penny to watch in a theater with surround sound. I wasn't bored for a second. So dive right in and start gearing up for the Infinity Wars.

What Happened: Political Postmortem

A year ago (dear God, how has it been a year?), Hillary Clinton lost the election and I was upset. Now she has written a book about it, entitled What Happened. I genuinely thought I was never going to read this book. Why would I re-live the horror of that day and the subsequent months? But I finally bit the bullet and ordered the book. And shockingly, it was not as devastating as expected.

What Happened is a policy book. It is a clear and articulate description of the kind of President Hillary Clinton would have been. This is a woman who loves to solve problems and chapter-by-chapter she dives into the various internal and external challenges her campaign faced and examines where it all went so heartbreakingly wrong. She keeps re-stating how responsible she felt and how ultimately, she was the one to blame as she was the candidate. But then she lays out a brilliant case for how everyone from the FBI, to Russia, and Facebook, screwed her over. It is an incisive and frankly frightening book about how American democracy was compromised during the 2016 Election, and a wonky but honest dissection of the many, many, many ways in which that glass ceiling proved to still be shatter-proof. 

To be perfectly honest, I'm a little surprised by my reaction to this book. I was convinced I would be in floods of tears, but instead I found it to be a fascinating political memoir that was easy to read and provided substantive food for thought. I don't read much non fiction, especially not about politics, but for the first time, I understood why someone might find this subject so fascinating. Rather than get upset about the election itself and the emotions it engendered, readers will probably be most devastated to read about the future we could have had. Clinton was all set to launch a major infrastructure program, create jobs, fight for a public option to get us closer to universal healthcare, protect women's right to choose, introduce campaign reform, and tackle climate change. But her progressive ideals and basic decency were drowned out in a sea of misinformation and biased reporting that insisted her e-mails were a legitimate scandal while Trump's Russia connections were swept under the rug. 

I voted for Clinton because of her policies. But also because of her overarching message of "Love and Kindness." In the book, her desire to help others and fight for those who don't have a voice is a constant theme. Even in the aftermath of the election, she spent so much time comforting the people who campaigned for her and worrying about how women and girls around the country might be feeling instead of just wallowing in self-pity. That quality is what I personally find so admirable about women in general, and Hillary in particular. The importance of empathy, putting yourself in another's shoes, and trying to feel another's pain so you can come up with a solution is evident over and over again in every single one of her policies. She talks about how a line in one of her speeches was taken out of context and made it appear as though she didn't care about coal miners. But she did care, and she went to West Virginia to talk with people who disagreed with her face-to-face and tell them about her economic plans for them. However, she acknowledges that one of her faults might be her desire to go straight to problem-solving instead of just letting people vent. And perhaps that was her biggest mistake. She tried to help America, when all America wanted to do was whine. I wish the people who didn't vote for her would read this book and properly understand what it is that she wanted to do for them. But alas, I doubt they will. 

What Happened is not a sad book. It is a defiant (occasionally sarcastic), intelligent, and hopeful one. The final chapter ends with Hillary's return to Wellesley College to deliver the 2017 Commencement speech, and in those moments, she is hopeful for the future of our country. It isn't blind optimism; she states, "Things are going to be hard for a long time. But we are going to be okay. All of us." That sentiment is why she would have been a great President. That sentiment is why she is a great woman. 

We are going to be okay. Because after all the events of last year, Hillary Clinton is back. She is frustrated and unhappy about how things turned out. But she is not going to back down and she is still going to help America with that big, wonderful brain of hers. As well as her big, wonderful heart.

It: Nostalgic Horror

I saw It last month (like most of the world) but never got around to writing a review. However, this weekend, after bingewatching Stranger Things 2, and with Halloween just around the corner, it felt like the perfect time to remind anyone who hasn't seen this movie to watch it immediately for a nice warm dose of nostalgia and creepiness.

I'll confess I'm not a horror enthusiast. I've seen my fair share of horror movies but mostly due to coercion and peer pressure, and the type of horror I prefer has a satirical bent (like The Cabin in the Woods) or underlying social commentary (like Get Out). The only reason I went to see It was because of a colleague who repeatedly told me it was awesome (hi Phil!) and a friend who said I was the only person she could persuade to go with her (hi Elizabeth!). Having never read the original Stephen King novel or seen the iconic TV series, all I was prepared for was some sort of gory slasher film with a creepy clown. Instead, what I got was a Goonies-esque 80's adventure with a bunch of preteens riding around on bicycles and trying to piece together what was happening in their town. It was a joy.

Yes, there's a creepy clown (played to spectacular effect by Bill Skarsgard). And he gets up to a number of creepy things and terrorizes the kids in a myriad ways. But the terror tends to be mostly psychological, albeit with some bloody bits strewn about to keeps things traditional. There are terrific set pieces in underground sewers and abandoned buildings where all you can do is shout at people for being dumb enough to go into the dark, but then breathe a sigh of relief when they emerge unscathed (well, maybe not all of them). But the true joy of the film is in seeing the main cast of children interact and learn how to navigate a world in which the adults are useless and they are the only ones with the wherewithal to protect their town from a horror of epic proportions.

The movie is rated R, probably less for violent imagery and more for the language - there's nothing more delightful than hearing a preteen swear. This is how kids talk when they're away from adult ears (sorry to break it to you parents), and watching their petty squabbles and eventual reconciliation in the face of true evil is a super entertaining ride. Stranger Things' Finn Wolfhard is one of the kids, playing completely against type, and it is wonderful to slip back into the glory days of movies when children actually played outside, spoke to each other, and had fabulous adventures, instead of staying indoors playing videogames.

It may be a horror movie, but I would class it more as an 80s movie. It has weird tonal shifts and is just as funny as it is creepy. It has its bloody and violent moments, but most of the time, it is a thoroughly engaging piece of entertainment that will transport you back to the summers of your childhood and make you glad that you were only playing with your friends instead of being murdered by clowns. If you haven't seen it, go to the movies this Halloween and indulge. You won't regret it. 

The Handmaid's Tale: The Bitches Shall Inherit the Earth

Well, I finally watched The Handmaid's Tale this week. And I'm as depressed and incensed as I expected.

If you don't know what the show (or the original novel by Margaret Atwood) is about, here's a brief summary. Set in the near future, the world is dealing with plummeting fertility rates due to disease and pollution. The United States has turned into a totalitarian Christian regime called Gilead where every Commander with a sterile wife gets assigned a fertile woman to serve as the family's "Handmaid." During the month, the Handmaid is a servant who does the daily shopping. But one night a month, she gets raped by the Commander in a biblically inspired "Ceremony" to bless the couple with a child. Praise be.

I won't go into further detail because this show does a superb job of slowly revealing how such a dire state of affairs came to be. Like any great adaptation, the show is faithful to Atwood's brilliant source material but then takes it ten steps further by giving each character a robust back story and updating the timelines so that the story feels fresh and relevant for our present age. The writing on the show is stellar, the cinematography, production, and costume design is searingly beautiful, and the soundtrack is an absolute joy. In particular, the use of "Perpetuum Mobile" in the fourth episode stirred my soul to fever pitch. I have loved that song since I was a teenager and often thought about how I would deploy it in a movie or TV show; now I've heard it deployed perfectly.

The Handmaid's Tale also features the best cast on television, and I will be shocked if they don't win Best Ensemble at the SAG awards this year. This show places great reliance on close-up shots to capture every nuance and passing emotion on the characters' faces, as they live in an oppressive regime that won't let them express themselves in much more overt ways. Many times, even their costumes restrict them further, like the Handmaid's stifling headdresses or in one instance, a mask that means the character is only able to express herself through her terrified eyes and inarticulate screams. To watch each woman demonstrate her superior acting talent over the course of each episode is a sheer wonder.

Let's be clear: this is a violent and cruel story that will make any woman cringe with horror. Women are punished in graphic and bloody ways for disobedience and subjected to atrocities in the name of religious totalitarianism. But the reason it particularly strikes a chord is because it reveals how easily inaction and apathy can allow a democracy to disintegrate into a dictatorship. Watching the formation of Gilead is nauseating - first, women are subjected to casual misogyny and called sluts if they show up in a coffee shop in exercise clothes. Then, their credit cards are shut down and they are told they can't have jobs anymore. All assets are handed over to husbands (if you're a lesbian, good luck, you're a "gender traitor"). And all of this is perpetrated under the pretense of temporary security measures following incidents of domestic terrorism. By the time the main characters wise up and try to flee to Canada, it's too late. Martial law is in effect, and their lives will be irrevocably changed.

This is eerily similar to what we see in America today. We have a President who could easily foment war and impose restrictions on the populace in case of domestic attacks. If he is impeached, we will be in the hands of a Vice President who is so deeply Catholic that he believes homosexuality is a sin and cannot eat alone with a woman if his wife is not present. This administration is rolling back abortion rights, denying women access to birth control, and is led by a man who is known for rampant misogyny and sexual harassment. In such an environment, is it any wonder that women feel the need to embrace the book's pseudo-Latin motto of Nolite te bastardes caroborundorum (Don't let the bastards grind you down)? This is perhaps exemplified by the fact that this show will be returning for a second season, and unlike the novel, we are going to get the chance to actually see the resistance in action. In this adaptation, the women get the chance to fight back.

However, let's not forget that the society The Handmaid's Tale portrays may seem extremely dystopian but is actually a reality for many women around the world. In Saudi Arabia, women can't earn property or work without the consent of a male guardian. 200 million women living today have undergone female genital mutilation. Women are routinely being raped, subjected to acid attacks, and trafficked as sex slaves. American women might be more fortunate than most, but as the Weinstein scandal has revealed this week, women have been harassed and raped in Hollywood for years and some people still have the temerity to say the women "asked for it." So let's not pretend that we have to fight to avoid dystopia. Dystopia is already here. We need to fight to ensure it doesn't get worse. Nolite te bastardes carborundorum, bitches. 

An Odyssey: Homer and Homecoming

I have been reading a lot recently, perhaps in an effort to lose myself in other people's stories and escape from the real world. As much as I love film and television (and am currently very busy keeping up with all the new fall TV and Oscar contenders), literature has always been my primary comfort. Books taught me about the world, about the past, the present, multiple visions of the future. They taught me about people and places, both real and imaginary, and when I was in school, nothing gave me more joy than opening up a crisp new textbook and getting a glimpse of what new things I was going to learn that year. Which brings me to An Odyssey: A Father, a Son, and an Epic by Daniel Mendelsohn. It's a memoir, but it is also like attending a Classics seminar, and I devoured this book hungrily, marveling at this strange and wondrous manner of storytelling that gave me everything I had been craving since I left college.

Daniel Mendelsohn is a Classics professor at Bard College and this is the story of how his 81-year-old father, Jay, enrolled in his undergraduate seminar on Homer's epic poem, The Odyssey. The narrative unfolds as part textbook, part father-son memoir, and it is uplifting and heartbreaking all at once. As Daniel cobbles together the story of his father's past (a challenging task as he appears to have told each of his children different versions of every childhood story), he also grapples with his emotions as his father speaks up during his seminar, sometimes contentiously disagreeing with the idea that Odysseus was a hero, and then capitulating on other points as the bemused teenage students watch father and son interact.

Like any parent-child relationship, this one is fraught with challenges, but it is cleverly woven into the tale of The Odyssey, with the education of Odysseus and Telemachus paralleling the education of Daniel and Jay Mendelsohn as they come to understand each other over their shared study of this ancient text. It is also illuminating to read about the banter between the professor and the students and experience the "a-ha" moment when a student comes to a realization that the professor had been patiently nudging her towards for the entire semester. I felt like I was back in my Classical Mythology course as Mendelsohn painstakingly walked through this rich and complex text with a Classics professor's detailed love of language and an indescribable ability to find a sense of humanity in every situation that spans across the millenia and resonates with modern readers. The book also provided interesting insight into the angst and problem-solving racing through a professor's mind when faced with an uncooperative classroom. I've always known teaching was hard work, but for the first time, I truly understood how a professor is tasked with so much more than merely teaching what's on the syllabus.

I know this book cannot possibly be for everyone and will mostly appeal to people like me with a deep love of Classical Mythology and heartfelt memoirs. There are digressions about the Greek derivations of words that brought a smile to my face, and despite having no cultural similarity to the Mendelsohn family, almost anyone can empathize with the challenge of having a parent who is very different from you and trying to reconcile your love and frustration with them as you grow older.

Mendelsohn constantly references ring composition - the structure of The Odyssey with multiple flashbacks and flashforwards that move the narrative in oftentimes meandering circles that still manage to move us on to our destination. The structure of this entire book is a glorious ode to ring composition, flitting back and forth across his father's past and future, from their time in the seminar to the cruise they took afterwards to trace Odysseus' journey across Italy and Greece. An Odyssey is both a scholarly work of genius and an affecting and moving memoir, a storytelling tour de force the likes of which I have never experienced before. I loved every page of this book and it serves as a reminder of why great stories endure for thousands of years.

Mrs. Fletcher: How To Be Woke in 2017

Tom Perrotta's Mrs. Fletcher might be the zeitgeist-iest book I have ever read. The man has already established that he knows how to tell a story, but in this novel, he seems to tap into all of the worries and fears raging through America today, where some people are trying to acknowledge their privilege, others are utterly oblivious, and everyone is wandering around in a bit of a daze until they figure their life out. It's a fascinating book that has many witty observations, somber reflections, and at least one passage destined to speak to you in some profound way if you're a 21st century American.

First off, if you're a man, don't be put off by the cover and blurb about how this is a story about a 46-year-old divorcee and her sexual awakening. Yes, that is part of the story, but for heaven's sake, I've spent my whole life having to read novels and watch movies about men, I think you can handle a well-written novel about a lady for once. Part of the story revolves around Eve, the aforementioned divorcee whose son has just left for college. She must therefore come to grips with her empty nest and figure out how she wants to spend her time. She decides to take a Gender Studies class at her local community college, which is taught by a trans woman and has a diverse student population ranging from open-minded immigrants to crass white males, which makes for an interesting dynamic.

The other part revolves around Eve's son, Brendan, a star athlete and high school stud who suddenly discovers that college is about more than being popular. He thinks he has found his tribe of frat brothers and football players when he arrives at Berkshire State University (a school he mostly picked because of its renowned party scene), but things quickly spiral out of control when he gets involves with the feminist president of the Autism Awareness club at a Black Lives Matter protest and finds himself completely out of his element.

In those above paragraphs, you may have spotted all the buzzwords of the past few years. This is a book about everything plaguing America today and how a mother and son are trying to navigate the complexities of being white people in a sea of social justice causes without committing horrific faux pas. Every supporting character is equally tortured, regardless of skin color or gender identity, because while they might have their own pet cause they're fighting for, they are up against a number of other causes that they're not quite sure they know how to deal with.

Mrs. Fletcher is a complex and wonderful read, extremely funny but also a revelation. Perrotta treats his characters with both scorn and empathy, mocking them for their failings but also giving them chances to better themselves and learn more about the world around them. This is also the perfect novel about our online age where Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram can define a person's existence and both educate them on what's happening in the world while making them feel like they're missing out on everything. It is also a damn good story, a page-turner with twists that will make you laugh out loud and cringe with disbelief. So pick it up and give it a try. You might broaden your horizons. 

Young Jane Young: Women Face Repercussions

Gabrielle Zevin's Young Jane Young is one of the most inventive novels I've read this year. It tells a wildly compelling story about a woman who has an affair with a married Congressman and then faces the aftermath while he emerges relatively unscathed and continues his political ambitions (sound familiar?). Men reading this blog, I urge you to pick up this novel and give it a whirl: it is superbly written and might give you some insight into why the women around you think the world is so unfair.

The story is told in five parts from the perspectives of three generations of women affected by these events. Aviva Grossman is the name of the young college intern who had the affair. Over the course of the novel, you get to hear the story from her indignant Jewish retiree mother in Boca Raton, from the Congressman's wife, from Aviva's daughter, and from Aviva herself. The fifth part of this novel is my absolute favorite, a Choose Your Own Adventure narrative outlining the various choices that Aviva made when she began her internship that led to the affair and its repercussions. It is funny, poignant, and searingly incisive about how our actions can have long-ranging consequences that alter not just our own lives, but the lives of everyone around us.

Of course, the most relevant part of this book is that it is told solely from the perspective of women. And because Zevin is playing the long game, you don't simply get each character's initial reaction, but their evolution as they come to grips with the events and have to deal with the ramifications. There's a fair amount of slut-shaming and guilt, then a certain defiance and indignation at Aviva's unfair treatment, and then a repetition of the whole cycle once Aviva's daughter gets older and discovers her mother's past. All of these narratives are woven together masterfully, playing off each other in perfect harmony and reaching a sweet crescendo in that final section that wraps up the entire story and reveals all the secrets that have been lurking in the shadows for the past 300 pages.

Young Jane Young is the work of an author at the peak of her abilities. It is un-put-down-able, a binge read that is as entertaining as it is enlightening, featuring a cast of fictional women that I would love to get to know in real life. It has a blistering plot, solid character development, and an unconventional structure, all factors that intertwine to make this one of the most enjoyable books of the year. Seek it out and discover who Young Jane Young is. She's a character you'll never forget. 

Dunkirk: War Is Hell

Dunkirk is written and directed by Christopher Nolan. It stars a troupe of British actors depicting the horrifying and heroic events of 1940, when Allied troops were stranded on the beaches of Dunkirk, at the mercy of repetitive bombing by the German Luftwaffe while the British Navy struggled to evacuate them as the water was too shallow for their ships to land. Instead, a crew of small civilian boats, ordinarily used for fishing or sailing tours, were tasked with crossing the English Channel and rescuing desperate soldiers, ultimately leading to the miraculous evacuation of over 300,000 soldiers. It's a moving story, and in the hands of Nolan and his team, a powerful one.

I accidentally watched this film in IMAX but I am glad I did. This is a movie that is meant to submerge you into the deepest, darkest, and most frightening aspects of warfare, and doing it while the Hans Zimmer soundtrack is thrumming through your veins via IMAX speakers and Hoyte van Hoytema's cinematography is searing itself onto your retinas is quite the experience. The story follows three timelines to capture the action on the ground, at sea, and in the air, each one grueling and exhilarating in its own right. It also depicts a full spectrum of the aftermath, from shell shock and guilt, to relief and grief; it is honest and unflinching about the heroism and tragedy involved in this evacuation.

The cast is a mix of fresh-faced young actors (including Harry Styles in his acting debut) and seasoned professionals like Mark Rylance and Tom Hardy. Everyone does a phenomenal job at capturing the fear, agony, and resilience that is part and parcel of going to war, and when you walk out of the theater, you will certainly feel like you were put through the wringer yourself. There is very little dialogue; instead the movie aims to plunge you into the action where there is no time to talk, only time to make heartbreaking decisions that will change your life forever. The soundtrack is marked by a ticking clock that is counting down each second of this horror, which serves to highlight the urgency and sense of hopelessness these soldiers feel as they await rescue while the Germans periodically swoop in and bomb them on the wide open beaches.

Dunkirk is an excellent movie that is sure to pick up numerous accolades over awards season. With a runtime of 106 minutes, it is a war movie that doesn't need a lot of time to get its point across - instead it efficiently and movingly illustrates the trauma of being in a war zone and the absolute pointlessness of it all. While the Dunkirk evacuation may have been a miracle that resulted in hundreds of thousands of lives being saved, World War II ultimately resulted in 85 million fatalities. While Nolan is presenting one of the "good" stories, at no point does he shy away from the fact that there is nothing glamorous about warfare. It is bloody, it is brutal, people die, and allies turn on each other.

Of course, the movie ends with a soldier reciting Churchill's inspiring speech:

We shall go on to the end. We shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be. We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender.

These words have always sent shivers down my spine, but I never fully understood the context until watching this film. Therefore, Dunkirk serves as a reminder that while war is a horrible and damaging thing, the human spirit endures. Sometimes, there are things worth fighting for.

Groundhog Day: You've Never Seen This Before

This happens to me every year. I don't see a musical in ages and then I go see one on Broadway and have to keep pinching myself because I must be dreaming, there's no way all of that is happening on stage. Watching Groundhog Day yesterday was no exception, but it was also one of the best musicals I have seen in 16 years of living in Manhattan. My only regret is I didn't go sooner, and it's closing on September 17, so if you live in NYC or will be visiting before then, don't hesitate. Buy a ticket and make haste to the August Wilson Theater.

Where does one start with describing why this show is so phenomenal? Perhaps a brief synopsis for those who haven't seen the movie. It's the story of a cranky weatherman, Phil Connors (played by the talented and dreamy Andy Karl), who has headed to Punxsutawney, PA on February 2nd. He has to cover the annual ritual of Groundhog Day, where people wait to see if a groundhog will see its shadow, thereby predicting six more weeks of winter. He hates this holiday and thinks it is beneath him to cover this story; but in a bizarre twist, he gets stuck in an infinite time loop where he has to re-live this day over and over again. Every morning, his alarm goes off, and it's still February 2nd. What follows is a hilarious evolution: he is first certain he's crazy, then excited to take sleazy advantage of the opportunities these multiple re-dos get him, then depressed about being stuck in this day forever, and finally accepts that this is going to be his life.

Given that plot, this show is a miracle of set design and staging wizardry. It could get awfully boring to have to re-live the same day over and over again, but there is absolutely nothing boring about watching how the actors, stage hands, lighting technicians, and other backstage magicians work in concert to choreograph every aspect of this day so that things run smoothly in the background while Phil has a meltdown over the sameness of it all. Honestly, I could watch this show a dozen more times just to identify more nuances of stage and set design; one particularly standout moment is when they engage in the silliest and most inventive way of depicting a car chase on a Broadway stage.

Apart from the brilliant Andy Karl performance (and truly, it is brilliant, just the way he gets dressed each morning feels like an inspired choice), there is an equally brilliant and moving performance from his co-star, Barrett Doss. She plays Rita, Phil's associate producer, who thinks he's an asshole (her actual words) but becomes his eventual love interest, and she is the true heart of the show. With her beautiful voice and soaring romantic songs, she is the ideal complement to Phil's more sarcastic rock n'roll ditties, and the chemistry between the two of them is heartbreakingly excellent. In fact, it's in those moments, when you simply have the actors on stage singing to each other as snow falls around them and lights twinkle magically, that you forget you're watching a Broadway musical and instead feel like you're watching a real-life romance bloom in front of your eyes.

Aside from the main couple, however, I have to mention two supporting players of note. John Sanders plays Ned Ryerson, the annoying life insurance salesman who has a whole backstory that leads him to sing one of the most moving songs in the whole piece. And Rebecca Faulkenberry plays Nancy. Who is Nancy? Nancy is essentially a nobody in the grand scheme of this plot. But Nancy has the best song in the entire play, a meta commentary on what it is like to be a pretty blonde actress trying to make it when men run the show, and it is the most unexpected and fantastic diversion before the second half resumes course. It is also a testament to the variety of music in this show - it ranges from heavy rock songs, to funny country interludes, to stirring romantic ballads. The lyrics range from raunchy and caustic to romantic and heartwarming (what else could you expect from the genius mind of Tim Minchin?), and the entire show walks that tightrope from start to finish.

Groundhog Day is a transformative piece of art, taking a well-known movie about deja vu and turning into something that feels brand new. The actors are incandescent, the sets and staging are mesmerizing, the music is bewitching, the story is funny, ribald, and moving. It's the perfect package. And if I had the chance to re-live last night over and over again, I wouldn't even think twice. 

GLOW: Ladies, Get Ready to Rumble!

If you read my Wonder Woman post, you know that I tend to get choked up about overt displays of female strength and camaraderie. So I am unsurprisingly thrilled by Netflix's series, GLOW,  a fictionalized exploration of the making of the 80's show, Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling. Featuring a cast of women in leotards kicking each other's asses in a multitude of ways, this is the show to watch  if you want to learn about how women work together when men aren't around.

First off, let's reiterate that GLOW was a real show that aired from 1986-1990. As a product of its age, it trucked heavily in sexist and racist stereotypes, while at the same time, managing to be a celebration of race and women simply due to its existence. It's that difficult conundrum of representation - if you rarely see any brown women on TV, it is super exciting to see one wrestling on your TV screen, even if she's doing it under the moniker of Beirut and threatening to be a terrorist who wants to destroy America. However, Liz Flahive and Carly Mensch, the creators of Netflix's GLOW (and former writers on Orange Is the New Black - how's that for pedigree?), give us the behind-the-scenes look at how this crazy show got made, which proves to be even more entertaining than what made it to TV sets across the nation.

Most importantly, this show is FUN. It is well-written and well-executed, clipping through its 10-episode season at a brisk and never-dull pace. The focus is mostly on the two white women at the helm (Alison Brie and Betty Gilpin, who are actresses I love from their work on Community and Masters of Sex), but I'm hoping the show follows Orange Is the New Black's lead and evolves into making this more of an ensemble piece with equal weight given to the other women. Right now a lot of the other cast members are playing to their racial stereotoypes, simply by virtue of the original GLOW being terrifically un-PC (after all, this was a show that had a black wrestler named "Welfare Queen"), but I'm hoping subsequent seasons give us more context into the backgrounds of these women and where their true motivations lie. The evolution of the characters over the course of the first season is already promising, deftly dealing with a lot of themes that TV usually handles supremely clunkily, so I have high expectations for upcoming seasons.

I would also be remiss if I didn't shout out the main man in the group, Marc Maron, who is playing Sam Sylvia, the leader of this motley crew, who has the unenviable task of wrangling together a bunch of novices and turning them into wrestling phenoms. At times, the show does veer towards giving him more screentime than the women who ought to be the focus, but all is forgiven because this is Maron being the most Maron-esque you'll ever see him. He is irritable, crass, rude, condescending, and then occasionally capable of great kindness and warmth before he returns to being an ass. It's a great character to have amidst all the estrogen, when deployed correctly.

The original GLOW was beloved by young girls, a weird little show that showed them something different from the usual fare on TV, and taught them that ladies didn't always have to be demure, docile creatures. Netflix's GLOW will be beloved by women of all ages for allowing more female and diverse racial representation on TV and giving us all someone to root for. It's not always a perfect show, but it is entertaining, warm, and witty, and I for one, cannot wait for the second season.