List #14: Wow, Remember 2011? Part One

The Ten Most Popular Daily Wreck Posts from 2011:

1. A Weekend Guest (posted 1/14/11): People really like pictures of dogs.

2. 5 British Miniseries to Watch Instantly on Netflix (posted 11/24/11): This was a gap that needed filling, apparently! In 2012, I'll be doing more posts like these, including stuff that's available to stream on Amazon and Hulu.

3. Rec. #52: Kamikaze Girls (posted 2/20/11): I probably don't want to know what people were searching for when they clicked on this.

4. Rec. #95: Hark! A Vagrant (posted 4/4/11): Everyone loves Kate Beaton. It cannot be denied.

5. Rec. #170 (abbrev.): Run Lola Run (posted 8/16/11): You all are really studying up for the Cloud Atlas movie, aren't you?

6. Rec. #16: The Undertaker's Gone Bananas (posted 1/15/11): We all feel like misfits sometimes. Like compulsive headline-writing and/or psychologically paralyzed misfits.

7. Another Weekend Guest (posted 2/25/11): People really, really like pictures of dogs.

8. Gift Idea #3: The Chicago Manual of Style, 16th edition (posted 12/5/11): Nerrrrds. You're all nerds.

9. Rec. #14: Shameless (U.K.), season 1 (posted 1/13/11): People probably a) were searching for William H. Macy, b) got the name of Michael Fassbender's movie wrong, or c) were looking for something I probably don't want to know about.

10. Rec. #18: The Very Persistent Gappers of Frip (posted 1/17/11): Aw! You're right. This book is great.

Friday Flashback: Rec. #71: The Princess and the Warrior

I decided to start doing Friday Flashbacks in case you missed some early posts the first time around. You're busy; I understand.

What: Sissi is a sweet, mild-mannered nurse at a psychiatric institution. She has no family to speak of and a very limited life outside of her job. Bodo is a taciturn thief/ex-soldier tortured by a mysterious past. The description sounds Gothic, but the movie itself is not. It's dreamlike, in the sense that scenes of kinetic frenzy (car chase, bank robbery, murder attempt) punctuate scenes of beautiful, floaty unreality.

Comparable to: It's the same writer/director and star as Run, Lola, Run, so, yes, like that. But with less running. And no one is named Lola.

You might not like it if: It's too dreamily improbable for you. Also, it's in German, so if you don't speak the language and you don't like reading subtitles . . .

How to get it: Rent, borrow, or buy. Also note: Writer/director Tom Tykwer is involved in the film adaptation of David Mitchell's adored-and-assumed-to-be-unfilmable novel Cloud Atlas, and don't you want to have an opinion about that?

[Originally posted 3/11/11. Since then, I also recommended Tykwer's Run Lola Run (Rec. #170).]

Rec. #220 (abbrev.): Aiding and Abetting

What: Muriel Spark, fraudulent psychiatrist, missing Lord Lucan, notorious real-life case, fictionalized follow-up, seventh Earl, fugitive, impostors, Paris, con-woman, Bavarian stigmatic, dead nanny, upper-class mores, murderer, satire

Opening lines: "The receptionist looked tinier than ever as she showed the tall, tall Englishman into the studio of Dr. Hildegard Wolf, the psychiatrist who had come from Bavaria, then Prague, Dresden, Avila, Marseilles, then London, and now settled in Paris."

Representative quote: "Beate during that time had been able to live in comfort. Every month she took to her bed and bloodily received pilgrims. Miracles did happen, as in fact they sometimes do."

Connections to previous Wreckage: Loitering with Intent (Rec. #13), Open to the Public (Rec. #107), Personal Wreck Week (List #5)

Rec. #219: The Awful Truth

What: The Awful Truth is a classic 1930s screwball comedy, a fine example of its type. The dapper Cary Grant and the sublime Irene Dunne play a soon-to-be-divorced couple who spend most of the movie sabotaging each other's new relationships.

Comparable to: Do you love Asta in the Thin Man films? Of course you do. Well, the same dog plays the pivotal role of Mr. Smith here. Watch the hat.

Opening lines: "Come on, Haig, get that sun lamp ready."

Representative dialogue:
"What do we drink to?"
"Well, let's drink to our future. Here's hoping you and Barbara will be very happy, which I doubt very much."
"No, let's drink to your happiness with Buffalo Bill, which doesn't even make sense."

Bonus representative quote: "In the spring, a young man's fancy lightly turns to what he's been thinking about all winter."

You might not like it if: You've seen some of the other versions of this movie (from 1925, 1929, or 1953), and you are now Over It.

How to get it: Careful here. This is a common title and the particular story itself has been remade a few times. If you want this version — and I think you do — look for The Awful Truth from 1937 with Cary Grant and Irene Dunne.

Connections to previous Wreckage: Get your fix of classic screwball with The Palm Beach Story (Rec. #17), The Miracle of Morgan's Creek (Rec. #65), and Midnight (Rec. #194).

Rec. #218: Bellwether

Oh, hello again. I am back.

What: Intrigued by my fervent recommendations of To Say Nothing of the Dog and Blackout/All Clear (see below), but don't want to commit to 500+ pages without knowing what you're getting into? There are worse places to start than here, with Connie Willis's breezy take on herd mentality and corporate culture.

The main players in Bellwether are Sandra Foster (a fads researcher), Bennett O'Reilly (a chaos theorist), Billy Ray (a convenient provider of sheep), and Flip (a very inconvenient force of nature).

Comparable to: As she does in To Say Nothing of the Dog, Willis throws many disparate threads of knowledge together in such a way that you start thinking of Robert Browning, chaos theory, genius grants, trust exercises, flagpole-sitters, and Far from the Madding Crowd as inextricably and irrevocably linked together.

Opening lines: "Hula Hoop (March 1958–June 1959) — The prototype for all merchandising fads and one whose phenomenal success has never been repeated."

Representative quote: "The only thing I was aware of was that Flip had thoughtfully crumpled each clipping into a wad before stuffing them into the trash can, and that there was no way I could get them all smoothed out tonight, and, as a result, I was not only oblivious to the first event in a chain of events that was going to lead to a scientific discovery, but I was about to miss the second one, too. And the third."

You might not like it if: You've already read To Say Nothing of the Dog and are looking for something on that scope. Or at least for something that involves time travel.

How to get it: Buy it or borrow it. It's in print and also Kindle-able.

Connections to previous Wreckage: Blackout/All Clear (Gift Idea #1) is Connie Willis's latest success, but To Say Nothing of the Dog (Rec. #100) is still the most beloved one.

Friday Flashback: Rec. #67: Tales of the City

I decided to start doing Friday Flashbacks in case you missed some early posts the first time around. You're busy; I understand.

What: Armistead Maupin has been writing his stories about Mary Ann Singleton, Michael (Mouse) Tolliver, and San Francisco for more than three decades. The tales are arch and winking, but earnest at heart, and they start here, when Mary Ann arrives in San Francisco in 1976. Even if you roll your eyes at Mary Ann's naiveté, raise your eyebrows at Brian's shameless promiscuity, and sigh at Mouse's misguided search for love, you'll still follow their intersecting stories avidly. Where this volume ends is actually kind of arbitrary, and you might find yourself barreling straight (ha) through to More Tales of the City . . . and then on through the six (so far) installments after that.

Comparable to: Actually, it's rather Dickensian, with perspectives that shift among a large cast of characters, and events so startlingly dramatic they toe the line between tragedy and farce. (It's also pretty soapy.)

Representative quote: "Mary Ann Singleton was twenty-five years old when she saw San Francisco for the first time. She came to the city alone for an eight-day vacation. On the fifth night, she drank three Irish coffees at the Buena Vista, realized that her mood ring was blue, and decided to phone her mother in Cleveland."

You might not like it if: It keeps you up too late because you just have to read one more bite-sized chapter. Also, it makes you want to move to San Francisco, which is prohibitively expensive for you.

How to get it: I couldn't find an image for it, but if you can, pick up the same 1978 Harper & Row edition I have. The cover (front and back) is a map of San Francisco, marked with key locations from the book. Also, please note that Tales of the City was adapted, almost seamlessly, into a miniseries in 1993. Part of its success comes from the stellar cast, which includes Laura Linney, Olympia Dukakis, Thomas Gibson, and Paul Gross.

[Originally posted 3/7/11.]

Friday Flashback: Rec. #62: Brick

I decided to start doing Friday Flashbacks in case you missed some early posts the first time around. You're busy; I understand.

What: High school noir at its high school noir-iest. There's a loner trying to solve a mystery, a femme fatale, highly stylized dialogue, characters with names like Tangles and The Brain, a missing girlfriend, and an underground crime ring. Also there is a scene with a table lamp in a van! It is maybe my favorite part! Because there is a table lamp! And it is in a van!

Comparable to: Oh, you know, all those other highly stylized high school noir films.

Representative quote: "Maybe I'll just sit here and bleed at you."

You might not like it if: It is too stylized, too high school, too noir.

How to get it: Available most places, but here's a suggestion: Turn on the closed captioning or subtitles*. These characters are high schoolers, which means they can be mumblers. You won't want to miss what they're saying.

Connection to previous Wreckage: Want more noir? Check out Rec. #47: I Married a Dead Man.

* Something you should know about me: My hearing is fine, but I watch everything with closed captioning turned on. I've done this since middle school. I don't like missing words.

[Originally posted 3/2/11.]

Friday Flashback: Rec. #70: Auntie Mame

I decided to start doing Friday Flashbacks in case you missed some early posts the first time around. You're busy; I understand.

What: In early 2010, the New York Times reported that an Italian reprint of the novel Auntie Mame had become a surprise bestseller. Why? Maybe it's the economic parallels with our time, as the titular Manhattan socialite crashes with the Great Depression, but comes out triumphant on the other side. Possibly it's the effervescent humor of Patrick Dennis's writing. (The New York Times doubts that this is the reason. The article implies that Italians are, for the most part, humorless.) Most likely, it's Mame herself, with her ineffable panache and progressive charm.

Comparable to: Mame Dennis has more in common with Graham Greene's Aunt Augusta than with P.G. Wodehouse's Aunt Agatha or Aunt Dahlia.

Representative quote: "Auntie Mame was on her best behavior and pirouetted prettily from one to the next, talking about the Japanese beetle, a difficult mashie shot, elm blight, country day schools, the servant problem, and --- until I caught her eye --- the wisdom of legalizing prostitution."

You might not like it if: Eccentric aunts aren't your style.

How to get it: Downloadable, borrowable, and in print (in English, in Italian, and in many other languages, too).


[Originally posted 3/10/11. Reposted now in honor of the amazing news that Tilda Swinton is developing a film remake of Auntie Mame. As I've remarked to friends, colleagues, and strangers on the street, this is potentially the best thing ever to happen to humankind.]