The bartender hands Jenny a fresh drink, and I stretch her hand out, taking it as I make her teeth sink into her lower lip in silent promise. Ah, sweet Gail, the side of her she never seems to remember. She wishes to have my charm and bravado. Only copious amounts of alcohol bring me out to play, but when I do come, she freely gives over the wheel.
It was a Friday. They invited me over to play games and I didn’t leave till Saturday morning. Their roommates, swimming in the pool or lounging on the couch, nodded their ‘hello.’ Where did you meet them? they asked. At a dog groomer’s, at the grocery store, on a hike, I said.
About war, they say, there is nothing new to support. It is as common to wear braces to hold up one’s pants, as it is to wear one’s pants outside one’s trousers.
Dawn closed her eyes and envisioned herself putting her car in park, opening the door, and knocking on Jane’s passenger window. She would let Dawn join her, of course, Jane lived on the unpredictable; she thrived on chaos.
FILM / Captain Canada's Movie Rodeo / September 2019 / Gabriel Ricard
For September’s Captain Canada’s Movie Rodeo, Gabriel Ricard laments the lack of originality in this summer blockbuster season.
When the man that is so mad comes out more frequently my caring
feels like an apology.
It is a balance like hanging your toes
off the edge of a concrete bridge.
FILM / Once Upon a Time in Film Scoring / Top Gun / Sean Woodard
Sean explores one of the best-settling soundtracks of the 1980s, Top Gun, in this month’s Once Upon a Time in Film Scoring column.
This event remains something of a Troy College legend. Many called the event anti-feminist (when not calling it something worse), and I supposed that was fair. But I would have also noted that the feminist crowd had less on offer. If they had given me a crack at free tuition, room, and board, I’d have participated in their Elizabeth Warren Forensics Competition or RBG Debate Forum or their Inner Beauty Pageant too. Until then, there I was.
100 WORD BOOK REVIEWS / Sometimes Things (Don't) Work Out by Estefania Munoz
You don’t want to be trite, and simply say Sometimes Things (Don’t) Work Out by Estefania Munoz is an act of tremendous courage. Yet that is the most straightforward and accurate takeaway I have from this overwhelming, achingly beautiful collection of poems. The occasional stunning illustration highlights Munoz’s words, which often immerse us thousands of vivid miles beneath her depictions of grief, terror, and what motivates us to become who we want to be. With both of these elements in a single volume, depicted as they are by an essential creative mind, Sometimes Things (Don’t) Work Out is poetry that must be read and appreciated in 2019.
I studied her for a moment. She looked skinnier than ever, frail and sort of weathered. I didn’t believe her. Besides, I had known John Head a long time. He pedaled as much crank as his brother could cook. I didn’t see him giving that up, and if he was still dealing, he was still smoking.
100 WORD TELEVISION REVIEWS / Carnival Row
I admit that I rolled my eyes at the trailer for Carnival Row —Cara Delevingne as a fairy, how unexpected. But within the first five minutes, we see this pixie is a fearless, albeit damaged, veteran. I also had to revise my memory of Orlando Bloom as a pretty elf; he’s the emotional heart of the story. While it leans a little too hard on the immigration analogy at times, the show has some complicated things to say about assimilation and belonging. Missing Game of Thrones? Carnival Row’s world is just as gorgeously realized—and the women characters get treated better.
Please don’t lose your patience with him. Try
and let him act it out, lay down and close his eyes,
make up a prayer, even if it’s silly and it rhymes,
even if it’s just crib talk
While washing your hands you glance in the mirror and the face that stares back at you isn’t your own. You’re changed. You’re scarred. This could have been avoided if the public restroom architect gods didn’t allow Victoria’s Secret models to designate the stall dimensions for you everyday folks.
Earlier societies could look both ways to escape the suffocating present — they could enjoy an idealized past but also imagine and play with what an idealized future might look like. It was fantasy but somewhat healthy, perhaps necessary and very human. We do not get that option. We can only mine the past.
100 WORD FILM REVIEWS / Once Upon A Time . . . In Hollywood
This film is an eloquent love letter to the golden age of Hollywood while shying away from the romanticized aspects of the time. Though it may confuse true crime fans who are deeply invested in the Manson family story, it’s a wonderful bromance between two of America’s greatest actors. For those unfamiliar with the time (and the Manson family), do your homework—Tarantino doesn’t give much background. One minute you’re watching the characters be themselves, and the next, you’re watching them film an entire TV pilot in front of your eyes. Finally, the final 20 minutes torch your understanding of history.
COMICS / Mr. Butterchips / August 2019 / Alex Schumacher
Mr. Butterchips goes Deep State in the latest strip from Alex Schumacher.
100 WORD BOOK REVIEWS / So Deadly, So Perverse Volume 3: Giallo-Style Films From Around the World by Troy Howarth
Troy Howarth’s third volume in the So Deadly, So Perverse series is a tome of information for film aficionados. Whereas the first two entries focused on familiar Italian Giallo films, the third one gives equal devotion to other lesser known entries and homages from different countries. Each entry includes a brief synopsis and information on home video editions. But it is in the reviews where the book really shines. Coupled with dazzling poster art and production stills, Howarth’s book will make you want to rewatch well-known films like Klute or Black Christmas or discover genre darlings like Tango of Perversion.
We ate the curd on toast, on crumpets, on scones, and over ice cream. I ate a spoonful a day, and I washed my face with it. I read Plumbing for Dummies and Mama helped me detach the water main so we could fill the bathroom pipes with lemon curd. Eventually, I showered in lemon and washed my hands with lemon and bathed in it once a week. It was as if I was back in Grandma’s kitchen, immersed in lemony nirvana.