Southern Bookman

Vanity Fair shows old excellence with 29th Hollywood issue

Vanity Fair's excellent Hollywood issue proclaims that film glamour lives on in a new generation.

The 29th annual celebration of the movies sizzles with the magazine's old flair, a triumph for Editor Radhika Jones, beset by seismic cultural shifts and falling circulation, news-stand sales and advertising since she took charge in late 2017.

Jones' compelling mix of Hollywood features and in-depth journalism recalls the great issues of  predecessors Graydon Carter and Tina Brown.

Disputing a prevailing belief that the film star is dead, a photographic gallery of Hollywood's rising generation glows with film magic.

Photographer Steven Klein and stylist Patti Wilson capture the charisma of Selena Gomez, Jonathan Majors, Austin Butler, Ana De Armas, Florence Pugh, Keke Palmer, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Julia Garner and Rege-Jean Page.

Hollywood's glorious past is honored with Mark Seal's history of the 100-year-old Hollywood sign and Wayne Lawson's reminisces of co-writing Gloria Swanson's autobiography.

Magazine staff writer Joe Pompeo examines a new media update of the film gossip publications of the past with a feature on Ankler, a movie industry news site.

Writer Richard Rushfield, a fedora-wearing throwback to newspaper entertainment columnists of the past, started the popular news source, and now seeks to expand it on Substack in partnership with media entrepreneur Janice Min.

Washington politics receives attention with Abigail Tracy's profile of Maxwell Frost, the first Gen Z congressman.

Writer James Pogue in a disturbing article investigates the "New Right's" desire to withdraw from American society and live in isolated communities, hoping to survive the collapse of civilization they foresee.

Pogue gives a soberting portrait of wealthy American "preppers" who have colonized rural areas of Montana, driving up property values and forcing longtime residents to  flee. The revealing article is one of the most important the magazine has published in several years.

Like Hollywood, Vanity Fair shines on.

Climate change brings early arrival of spring blossoms

The white azaleas have blossomed in our yard, and February's not yet gone.

Each year, I welcome these heralds of spring.

Once the delicate blooms arrived in April. Now, with mild winters from global warming, the flowers' natural clocks are out of balance.

My joy at the azaleas' return now comes with uneasiness at changes in seasonal rhythms that were constant for centuries.

The early arrival of spring blossoms is as ominous a sign of climate change as extreme weather.

Burt Bacharach, Frank Zappa both explored new musical territory

Burt Bacharach's musical inventiveness was matched by Frank Zappa.

Bacharach, who died recently at age 94, like Zappa wrote songs with unusual time signatures and rhythms, often within the same composition.

The iconoclastic Zappa and popular music dynamo Bacharach took opposite views of American culture.

Bacharach achieved mass success, turning out anthems to middle-American romance and material success. Zappa's outrageous satire skewered the same culture celebrated by Bacharach. From different realms, they both pushed beyond the boundaries of American pop music.

Unlike Bacharach, Zappa spurned Top 40 hits. Zappa, who died in 1993, gained a devoted cult following as the leader of the Mothers of Invention, a band known for its musical sophistication in carrying out Zappa's innovative arrangements on a number of concept albums.

After the band's early satirical work "Freak Out," "Absolutely Free," "We're Only in It for the Money" and "Lumpy Gravy," Zappa reached new levels of artistic brilliance with a series of symphonic jazz compositions. His later avant garde work brought him renown as a major composer. 

Bacharach in contrast concentrated on popular hits, while branching out to write the Broadway show "Promises, Promises" and movie soundtracks.

While Zappa often collaborated with symphony orchestras late in his career, Bacharach declined offers to write symphonies. Yet Bacharach's arrangements with their range of instruments and memorable horn lines mirrored Zappa's musical virtuosity.

Bacharach and Zappa were opposites in many ways, but they both possessed ground-breaking talent, extending the boundaries of modern American music.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Remembering John Keats, on 202nd anniversary of his death

I first fell in love with Keats when I was an English major at Louisiana State University.

Each week, I walked up the steps at O.K. Allen Hall, named for Huey Long's main crony, to go to the office of a professor whose name I've sadly forgotten. She spoke with a proper and forbidding British accent, and always wore a formal dress. I learned over that semester in southern Louisiana's gorgeous springtime of her kindness and humor.

I took a class in Keats' work from the lovely lady, in which I was the only student. Each week, we discussed Keats' poems and letters. She told anecdotes about the young poet, as if she'd been a member of his circle in early 19th century London.

On the 202nd anniversary of Keats' death in a small apartment overlooking Rome's Spanish Steps, I look back on that young student. I was not quite 25, the age at which Keats died of tuberculosis, believing himself forgotten.

As with Melville, Keats was rediscovered posthumously. Now, he's the best remembered Romantic poet, subject of a continuing stream of books.

Over the years, I visited the place where Keats died in the care of painter Joseph Severn, and his grave at Rome's Protestant Cemetery with its bitter epitaph, "Here lies one whose name was writ in water." I've also gone to the home in London where he fell in love with Fanny Brawne, wrote his great odes and walked along the Hampstead Heath.

Soon to turn 72, I've never stopped reading his poems.

 

Tara Theater revival brings hope to Atlanta film lovers

The Tara Theater lives!

Tara's closure by the Regal Corporation in November deprived Atlanta cinema-lovers of films like the documentary "Turn Every Page," about the long and sometimes volatile relationship of biographer Robert Caro and editor Robert Gottlieb.

For months, I've been anticipating the film's arrival in Atlanta, but no local theater has booked it, although it's been showing for weeks in other cities. "Turn Every Page" is the kind of out-of-the mainstream movie that for years found a place at the Tara.

Perhaps such films will return to Tara's screen. Chis Escobar, owner of the independent Plaza Theater in Poncey-Highland, plans to resurrect the Tara at its old location in a strip shopping mall on Cheshire Bridge Road. 

Escobar in making the announcement Tuesday at the close of the Atlanta Jewish Film Festival said he plans to show 35 mm and 70 mm films, along with digital productions.

A fund-raising campaign is under way to reopen the theater, Escobar said, reporting that Regal took all of the production equipment and perhaps even the popcorn machine.

Film goers can buy ticket vouchers for redemption when the theater reopens, or give a donation, at the Tara's web site. Escobar and fellow investors seek to return the Tara to the glory days of local film entrepreneur George Lefont's ownership.

The Tara's reopening would bring back Atlanta as a serious film town. The fund-raising campaign allows film-goers to have a sense of ownership.

Like clapping for Tinker Bell, we can bring Tara's magic light back to life.

Biden takes a slow train to rendevous with history

Joe Biden standing with Volodymyr Zelensky before St. Michael Cathedral's golden spires in Kyiv will be remembered as a moment when history turns.

The AP 's Evan Vucci took the dramatic picture, an affirmation of old-time wire service photography. Vucci, along with the Wall Street Journal's Sabrina Siddiqui, recently returned from maternity leave, were the only reporters on the trip. The New York Times and Washington Post must be wondering why they weren't invited.

Biden affirmed American, and NATO, support for Zelensky and his country's resistance to Russian leader Vladimir Putin's war to destroy Ukraine's independence. The American president's secret journey from Washington came just before the first anniversary of the Russian invasion.

The astounding high-risk gesture by the 80-year old Biden, accompanied by a handful of aides, was reminiscent of a Cold War thriller. Biden promised Zelensky to send more ammunition, while still holding off on new weapons such as jets and long-range missiles which Zelensky and the Ukrainians desperately need to repel the Russians from their home.

While the undermanned Ukrainians have withstood the ill-prepared Russian army, Putin still holds a huge advantage in manpower and economic resources.

Unable to defeat the Ukrainian Army militarily, the Russians have engaged in what Vice President Kamala Harris recently branded crimes against humanity. The Russian forces have raped and killed civilians, destroyed power stations and other critical infrastructure and bombed schools, residential areas and businesses.

Vladimir Lenin's train journey to St. Petersburg Station in 1917 led to the Soviet Revolution and the totalitarian empire Putin desperately wishes to re-establish.

In contrast, Biden with his daring trip seeks to uphold freedom and democracy in a country that suffered Soviet repression.

The Russian invasion of Ukraine reverberates with historical echoes: World War I trench warfare, European ideologies and rivalries from World War II, the brutality of medieval and ancient warfare, shadows of the Holocaust, age-old traditions of language, religion and culture.

Republicans' churlish criticism of Biden falls on on the wrong side of history, like those isolationists who supported Hitler and Mussolini before World War II.

Biden's trip will lead to an escalation of fighting. The United States and NATO will boost their commitment with upgraded weapons and possibly even troops. Putin's nuclear risk rises, and China threatens to give "lethal aid" to its ally.

But Biden's stand with Zelensky bolsters Ukraine's resolve, and the likelihood of its eventual victory

Vucci's photo of Biden and Zelensky will forever mark that rebirth of freedom.

 

 

 

 

 

My heart beats true on Presidents' Day

Presidents' Day holds a special meaning for me ever since I suffered a stroke on the holiday in 2017 at the MARTA Lenox Square rail station.

I had planned to head downtown for an Atlanta Press Club function. When I attempted to update the fare on my MARTA transcard, I found myself unable to read the letters and numbers on the ticket machine.

Thanks to a quick-acting MARTA police officer, a transit system worker and the EMTs who transported me to Grady Memorial Hospital, the damage was minimal. The cause was a blood clot that sped to my brain, kicked up by atrial fibrillation, an irregular heartbeat. A weeklong stay at Grady began a years-long battle against Afib.

After several ablations and other procedures, a succession of frightening drugs, and a nine-day stay at Piedmont Hospital suffering from afib-caused heart failure, a pacemaker was implanted into my heart in an operation at Piedmont during the height of the Covid pandemic.

The small high-tech device has given me new life,  keeping my heart beating on a regular rhythm.The technicians say the battery will keep going for eight more years.

On Presidents Day, I'm thankful for that gift of time.

 

 

Tom Hanks' sparkling story "Lingua Franca" raises excitement for his first novel

Tom Hanks really can write a good story.

I was skeptical about the 66-year-old actor's writing ability, even though he published a best-selling short story collection, "Uncommon Type," several years ago.

But Hanks' story "Lingua Franca" in the current Harper's magazine restored my long-lost enjoyment of the genre. With its crisp dialogue, fast-paced plot and engaging characters, the story appropriately takes place in the 1940s, the gold era of popular short stories in magazines like the Saturday Evening Post and Esquire.

Reminiscent of traditional masculine-flavored stories by Ernest Hemingway, Tom McGuane and Raymond Carver, "Lingua Franca" turns upon the difficulties of World War II veterans in returning to normal life back home in America.

Rich in the slang of the era, the story builds to a mesmerizing dramatic climax in which two former Marines share a moment of awkward sympathy and healing in a deftly imagined roadhouse in the American West.

The story is an excerpt of Hanks' first novel, "The Making of Another Motion Picture Masterpiece," to be published in May by Knoph.

Drawing upon Hanks' acting career, the book will range across several decades, registering the changes in American society from World War II to the present, according to a plot summary.

In the book, a veteran's experiences inspire a comic book written by his nephew, in which the former soldier appears as a character. Later, a movie is made from the comic, with a series of plot complications.

Hanks' story has me looking forward to reading "The Making of Another Motion Picture Masterpiece," an anticipation for a spring book I haven't felt in years.

 

 

Andrea Barrett's "Natural History" revisits enthralling family saga

Andrea Barrett's "Natural History" rekindled my enchantment with fiction.

Barrett's collection of linked stories tells the histories of several interconnected families from the late 19th and early 20th centuries through the present.

"Natural History," published in 2022, extends the family saga she's examined in nine previous books, including the National Book Award-winning collection "Ship Fever." She's won the MacArthur "genius" award, and Guggenheim and NEA fellowships.

The characters live in Hammondsport, a village in central New York state's Finger Lakes region. Barrett is one of those writers who find universality in a small fictional place.

Barrett's predominantly female characters share a consuming interest in science and technology. Henrietta Atkins, a 19th century teacher and botanist who gives her students immersive lessons in insect and plant life, is the main character of the first stories in "Natural History," which follow her life from the American Civil War to after World War I.

Henrietta, who never marries and has a close friendship with another female scientist, Daphne Bannister, is an influential figure for generations of Hammondsport's children. She also plays a formative role in the lives of her nieces, Marion, Caroline and Elaine Cummings and their younger twin sisters, Agnes and Alice Cummings.

The book traces Henrietta's life from a child working for a local family through old age. Along with her teaching and scientific career in the village, she makes several momentous trips with Daphne, who becomes a famed author. 

How Henrietta inspires her nieces and students carries forth an intricate narrative of village life. Barrett gives each family member and acquaintance a distinctive personality.

Henrietta's childhood is haunted by a wounded Civil War veteran who returns to the village. One of her work duties was writing letters to him while he was away, and she was consumed by his returned letters describing camp life and different battles.

Later, she participates in the veteran's contributions to a regimental history, seeking to atone for accusations of its cowardice during the battle of Chancellorsville.

Her teaching gives the adventure of knowledge to several gifted students who go on to successful artistic and scientific careers. Henrietta's quiet life is full of intellectual and emotional excitement.

In the daring and adventuresome story "The Accident," her niece Caroline Cummings' career as an early aviation barnstormer takes center stage. 

Also appearing are a wealthy aristocratic family who owns a winery in the area, threatened by the passage of the Volstead Act in 1919. A family heir, Charles Durand, marries the lower class Alice Cummings, joining the two families.

Rose Marburg, the present-day central character of the concluding story that gives the book its title, is the granddaughter of Charles and Alice. Rose's life uncannily replicates that of her distant ancestor, Henrietta. Both love scientific exploration, writing and natural beauty. Each mourns brief, tragic love affairs, and unfulfilled careers.

Along with her impressive knowledge of American history and the country's golden age of inventions and intellectual discovery, Barrett gives lessons in cellular biology, botany and scientific literature.

Barrett's deeply imagined characters follow their destinies against the unfolding of history. Their small-town stories reflect that of the nation at large.

 

 

Harper's columnist Rachel Kushner finds movie arrogance outside her front door

Rachel Kushner, who first gained fame as a novelist, is one of America's best essayists.

Kushner has given Harper's magazine's esteemed Easy Chair column a fresh jolt of urbane commentary.

In the tradition of lauded Easy Chair columnist Bernard DeVoto in the mid-20th century, Kushner writes with grace and precise observation. While participating in the action, she displays an amused detachment and satiric sympathy for human failings.

Kushner in her column in the magazine's current issue gives a slice of life look at Los Angeles, where she lives in a historic neighborhood east of Echo Park Lake.

With its renovated 19th century homes and view of downtown Los Angeles, the neighborhood is a favorite of film-makers seeking to show the city's past. Kushner says Jack Nicholson portraying the sardonic detective Jake Geddes in the 1930s-era film "Chinatown" parked his roadster in front of her neighbor's house.

Producers of the "Fast and Furious" series also film in the neighborhood, causing major disruptions. Kushner gives a vivid account of how the "Fast and Furious" crews invade the streets of her community like a conquering army.

Kushner points out that most people in Los Angeles work outside of the film industry. Yet, the business overshadows life in the sprawling metropolis.

The column indicts the film industry's arrogance, while recognizing its seductive glamour and entertainment power.

While supporting a neighborhood protest against the "Fast and Furious" production, she gave the filmmakers permission to shoot scenes of downtown L.A. from her back yard.

She's an observer and part of the story. As with the late Joan Didion, that brings a camera-like objectivity.