Category: national

  • Roses and Thorns

    I’m not the only one who questions the success of the new Roses adaptation by Tony McNamara, but I might be more intrigued by its intention.

    This movie, which is a remake of the 1989 one by Michael J. Leeson and 1981 novel by Warren Adler, focuses on the relationship between Theo, an architect whose major project has failed, and Ivy, a chef whose return to work after this failure was more successful than either imagined.

    Theo (Benedict Cumberbatch) is struggling in his new role as primary parent, so Ivy (Olivia Coleman) returns a favor by offering to finance their dream home, which he designs and builds as a way of restoring his professional and personal reputation. Its development is inversely related to the deterioration of their marriage, which culminates in a fateful dinner party that finally reminds them after everyone has left of their shared desire to restore their relationship just before the house and presumably they are destroyed by a gas-leak explosion.

    Many are critical of this movie. The Chicago Reader for example suggests that the pacing is off and that the performances should be funnier, which seem reasonable. Nonetheless, I was intrigued by its intention, which could be a funny foray into the challenges of marriages, especially those that last many years.

    Research suggests that married couples, even unhappily married ones, are generally happier after many years (e.g., Carstensen 2011, 119-120). Anyone in one of these can attest that such longevity often requires unforeseen compromises and challenges.

    Such a reality is central to this movie, which wants to acknowledge it in a witty way. This worthwhile challenge however is ultimately more than it can manage.

    Both central characters are mutually witty, which is part of their attraction and they suggest in a counseling session could be considered repartee, or less caustic criticism and more emotional release. Also, the ending, which is different from the previous movie, more attests to the absurdity of married life.

    These and other conditions never quite coalesce in anything coherent, which is a problem. Such moments are played for laughs before any black comedy discomfort can arise. For example, the new-age-adjacent Amy (Kate McKinnon) offers her husband’s friend and client Theo a romantic road trip but when challenged merely acknowledges her desire for novelty without any intention of leaving her husband Barry (Adam Samberg).

    This mixed messaging means that the move is at most an amusing couple of hours with solid main performances and more than adequate technical elements. These unfortunately are constrained by choices from its author and its director (Jay Roach), and make it a mostly forgettable project.

    As such, it never quite does justice to its central story about a long-married couple confronting challenges. Some obviously fail while others succeed, and this difference could be compellingly considered in a movie but just would need something clearer.

  • Violence and Violations

    Political violence, which is wrong and isn’t new, seems more widespread after the recent shootings of conservative activist Charlie Kirk on a college campus and liberal legislators Melissa Hortman and her husband and John Hoffman and his wife in their Minnesotan homes as well as the current president while he was campaigning last year.

    The current media response however is bewildering, and borderline alarming. Too many seem to not just ignore but even deny the larger contexts. Ezra Klein for example argues that Kirk was “practicing politics in exactly the right way” as if Klein is incapable of acknowledging two truths in tension, or admiring a willingness to debate while condemning a disregard for basic facts and an escalation of political conflicts.

    Others have criticized these reactions in the context of Kirk’s efforts and life. Still others have criticized that this tragedy has been politicized by the president and also acknowledged that the most “lethal and persistent threat” in this country comes from white supremacists although some wonder if that is changing, or could change.

    I too admire Kirk’s willingness to engage college students on their campuses. I also know that he made mine less effective, and that he was part of a larger problem.

    I defined academic appropriateness more narrowly than some colleagues, and limited classroom comments to ones I could connect to my disciplinary domains. I expected, or at least hoped, that the university would defend me from attacks on anything I said about rhetoric, linguistics, or US American literature.

    I nevertheless imposed more restrictive limits, and began self-censoring much more, after learning about Kirk’s professor watchlist. This list, which his Turning Point USA organization launched in 2016, promised to “‘expose and document’” faculty who according to this organization “‘discriminate against conservative students, promote anti-American values and advance leftist propaganda in the classroom.’”

    I was generally confident that I encouraged students to share whatever perspectives they brought to classrooms, and was reassured by my own criticisms of professional and personal excesses within my union for example or among campus colleagues. At the same time, I was less inclined after students were encouraged to surveil and report their professors to challenge mine to think harder and better, and less convinced that my university would defend me, which I later learned were realistic.

    I’ve wanted to believe since before grad school in a model of democratic debate in which interlocutors argued about facts, definitions, values or norms, and relevance, or spaces where such deliberations should be resolved. I’ve assumed that emotions would appear but would with reasoned responses be properly placed within the larger debate.

    I never realized how much I had assumed such shared norms among participants, and good faith on their parts, until this era for example of alternative facts and other bad faith efforts. I’m not suggesting that reasonable people cannot debate facts, including their relevance in different debates, but I’m arguing that democratic debate at least as it has been understood in the West for thousands of years doesn’t work without some consensus that such facts exist.

    I see no reason why people cannot express sympathy to Kirk’s wife and young children and to others who experience his death as a loss, and even why everyone cannot condemn political violence, and yet do so without ignoring, or worse denying, the damage done by Kirk’s dishonest (and racist and sexist) demagoguery. This damage, which includes his contributions to the return of this destructive administration, was perhaps more widespread than some recognize, and even in the very spaces where some might otherwise admire his efforts.

  • More Like a Summer Slurpee

    NPR critic Maureen Corrigan suggests that El Dorado Drive by Megan Abbott (2025) is one of the better summer suspense novels, but I think it barely qualifies as a beach read.

    Harper, the youngest of three Bishop sisters, is invited by her older sisters Pam and Deb to join a female financial club that seems as much a ponzi scheme as an empowerment source. Their individual financial needs are not unlike those of the other middle-aged women in their Detroit hometown, and the ensuing mayhem could have been caused by any of these financial investors or Harper’s ex-brother-in-law or her niece.

    Harper, the youngest of three Bishop sisters, is invited by her older sisters Pam and Deb to join a female financial club that seems as much a ponzi scheme as an empowerment source. Their individual financial needs are not unlike those of the other middle-aged women in their Detroit hometown, and the ensuing mayhem could have been caused by any of these financial investors or Harper’s ex-brother-in-law or her niece.

    The suspense, which surfaces early, eventually rises to a modest wave, but that isn’t enough to carry readers to the shore. Moreover, possible themes — sisters’ adult relationships for example or female financial independence — loom on the horizon but never crest atop the churning water. And the character development at most can sustain casual floaters who would still have to paddle to the shore.

    This story despite any aspirations gets caught in a genre conventions current. Abbott is know for her efforts to reconfigure conventional genres around female perspectives, but this attempt seems unable to decide whether it wants to be a serious story or is willing to settle for something somewhat less.

    As such, it seems unfinished even for a summer beach read.