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Book/Movie Rec: Loaded Guns Edition
Wednesday, December 28th, 2011 09:35 pmI think it was Kurt Vonnegut who commented that a loaded gun in the first act of a play needs to be fired by the third act in order to for the dramatic experience to be satisfying. I am pleased to report that this is entirely true, especially when the first act presents loaded gun after loaded gun, and the dramatic experience becomes a waiting game to see when they all go off (one by one? all at once? something in between?).
Recently, I've had the distinct pleasure of reading The Lace Reader, by Brunonia Barry, and seeing The Descendants, starring George Clooney and written by Alexander Payne, Nat Faxon, and Jim Rash.* Neither one of these reading/viewing experiences is easy, and I know that they both have their detractors. But I liked both of them immensely, despite some twists and flaws, and I think their very complicated and loaded guns are what makes them likable, instead of being the obstacles that their critics perceive them to be.
The Lace Reader is difficult to describe totally without giving away the big plot twist at the end, but it starts with a highly unreliable narrator who immediately admits that she often lies and that her memory isn't what it used to be since her stint with electro-shock therapy in a mental institution. (When Sophya/Towner, said narrator, casually mentions that she reconstructed her childhood with the help of her brother after leaving the mental hospital and being in a fiction-writing class, I began to ignore the other loaded plot guns and the preposterous-ness of the whole set-up in favor of letting the story just unravel itself, figuring that if I believed nothing, I wouldn't be annoyed with the big reveal. It was not unlike meeting a drunk at a bar with an amazing story who is making it up as he/she goes along.) It's a good thing that about halfway through the story that the narration passes to a more stable character who has no reason to lie, and the success of book is here; after all, you can't have an entire plot that's rumored to be false without completely pissing off your audience, and Sophya/Towner's love interest is a detective who stays away from the past and firmly focuses on the present. When the plot went back to its original narrator in the last third of the book, the narrative loaded guns started going off, and the reading experience changed from a sleepy, "ho hum, this is a crazy story" feeling to a "must know NOW" raw need to finish. I liked it. The plot twist that is annoying most of the readers... well, if I even hint at its nature, I risk giving it away, but I have to say: if you're a careful reader who's willing to suspend disbelief even knowing that the narrator is not necessarily telling the truth from the first word, then you're going to be very, very satisfied. If you're not a fan of magical realism mystery fiction, then you might want to select another tome for your next book group meeting.
In sharp contrast, The Descendants is all real life, and in some ways, it's the worst parts of real life, all happening to some poor fool all at once: Matt King's somewhat estranged but not yet divorced wife lies in a coma after a speed boat accident, and he's left to be the parent to his two self-destructive and out of control daughters, ages 10 and 17, the older of whom reveals to him that his wife was cheating on him before she was in the accident. A lot of the complaints about this narrative center around "it's so cliche!" or "it's boring!" I hate the idea that a story that asks its audience to sympathize with a man and children who are so clearly suffering is somehow cliche or dull. Sure, there are familiar ideas in the plot, but I think part of the idea of this story is that at the worst times, there is nothing to comfort you, not even what's familiar. Instead, you fall back on what you have, and what the main character has is not a lot. It's clear that instead of dealing with his emotional problems, he's buried himself in his work, and that he really has no idea how parent his children, or to take care of himself in the face of tremendous odds. So it's incredibly gratifying and cathartic to see him taking the smallest steps to becoming a whole person and parent, someone who can forgive his wife for having an affair and still admit how much he loves her. The loaded guns of the plot fired in all directions, but at last, he was able to stand his ground, and that made me so happy. George Clooney is clearly bucking for an Oscar, and I have to say... this is a pretty amazing performance. It's understated, true, and above all, not smug. I didn't think I would love Matt King if I had to spend a lot of time with him, but I wanted to give him a hug the whole way through, and I cheered for the last image of the film (one that I won't give away here), a deceptively simple but incredible herald of victory for him and his family in aftermath of tragedy.
* Who is also a star on my much beloved Community (he plays the Dean) and who I am beginning to suspect is a much more immensely complicated and interesting person than he lets on, based on the way he acts and writes.
Recently, I've had the distinct pleasure of reading The Lace Reader, by Brunonia Barry, and seeing The Descendants, starring George Clooney and written by Alexander Payne, Nat Faxon, and Jim Rash.* Neither one of these reading/viewing experiences is easy, and I know that they both have their detractors. But I liked both of them immensely, despite some twists and flaws, and I think their very complicated and loaded guns are what makes them likable, instead of being the obstacles that their critics perceive them to be.
The Lace Reader is difficult to describe totally without giving away the big plot twist at the end, but it starts with a highly unreliable narrator who immediately admits that she often lies and that her memory isn't what it used to be since her stint with electro-shock therapy in a mental institution. (When Sophya/Towner, said narrator, casually mentions that she reconstructed her childhood with the help of her brother after leaving the mental hospital and being in a fiction-writing class, I began to ignore the other loaded plot guns and the preposterous-ness of the whole set-up in favor of letting the story just unravel itself, figuring that if I believed nothing, I wouldn't be annoyed with the big reveal. It was not unlike meeting a drunk at a bar with an amazing story who is making it up as he/she goes along.) It's a good thing that about halfway through the story that the narration passes to a more stable character who has no reason to lie, and the success of book is here; after all, you can't have an entire plot that's rumored to be false without completely pissing off your audience, and Sophya/Towner's love interest is a detective who stays away from the past and firmly focuses on the present. When the plot went back to its original narrator in the last third of the book, the narrative loaded guns started going off, and the reading experience changed from a sleepy, "ho hum, this is a crazy story" feeling to a "must know NOW" raw need to finish. I liked it. The plot twist that is annoying most of the readers... well, if I even hint at its nature, I risk giving it away, but I have to say: if you're a careful reader who's willing to suspend disbelief even knowing that the narrator is not necessarily telling the truth from the first word, then you're going to be very, very satisfied. If you're not a fan of magical realism mystery fiction, then you might want to select another tome for your next book group meeting.
In sharp contrast, The Descendants is all real life, and in some ways, it's the worst parts of real life, all happening to some poor fool all at once: Matt King's somewhat estranged but not yet divorced wife lies in a coma after a speed boat accident, and he's left to be the parent to his two self-destructive and out of control daughters, ages 10 and 17, the older of whom reveals to him that his wife was cheating on him before she was in the accident. A lot of the complaints about this narrative center around "it's so cliche!" or "it's boring!" I hate the idea that a story that asks its audience to sympathize with a man and children who are so clearly suffering is somehow cliche or dull. Sure, there are familiar ideas in the plot, but I think part of the idea of this story is that at the worst times, there is nothing to comfort you, not even what's familiar. Instead, you fall back on what you have, and what the main character has is not a lot. It's clear that instead of dealing with his emotional problems, he's buried himself in his work, and that he really has no idea how parent his children, or to take care of himself in the face of tremendous odds. So it's incredibly gratifying and cathartic to see him taking the smallest steps to becoming a whole person and parent, someone who can forgive his wife for having an affair and still admit how much he loves her. The loaded guns of the plot fired in all directions, but at last, he was able to stand his ground, and that made me so happy. George Clooney is clearly bucking for an Oscar, and I have to say... this is a pretty amazing performance. It's understated, true, and above all, not smug. I didn't think I would love Matt King if I had to spend a lot of time with him, but I wanted to give him a hug the whole way through, and I cheered for the last image of the film (one that I won't give away here), a deceptively simple but incredible herald of victory for him and his family in aftermath of tragedy.
* Who is also a star on my much beloved Community (he plays the Dean) and who I am beginning to suspect is a much more immensely complicated and interesting person than he lets on, based on the way he acts and writes.
