… of Bowie, but I read on nonetheless. It’s factually flawed (Spitz calls this the “Event Harmonizer”???), occasionally infuriatingly written (dozens of unclear pronoun antecedents), and highly self-indulgent (the interstitial chapters are about Spitz not-meeting Bowie). But the arc’s compelling, as is the subject.
Someday, Bowie will write his own or authorize a good one. Until then, there’s always this.
Six weeks? I am crap, aren’t I? Not even ambitious-but-crap. Just crap.
Atrios gets at the underlying problem with assigning journalists to “trends” beats: We aren’t typical consumers of culture; nor do our friends tend to be.
At NPR, when I was (briefly) assigned as “cultural trends correspondent”, the Assistant Managing Editor who supervised my desk kept pushing me to do two stories, one on women in late middle age having kids, the other on a certain TV show that was newly on the air.
I dug a bit and found that the rate at which women 35-45 were giving birth hadn’t changed; there’d simply been a slew of pregnancies among DC journalists in that age range. Likewise, the ratings for the show in question skewed to women 35-45 with college degrees, i.e. women much like the aforementioned Assistant Managing Editor.
I never did the stories.
You’ve added recorded announcements along the L line, regularly updating passengers about how long it’ll be until the next train in each directions arrives. That’s great.
But at the terminus at Eighth Avenue? They’re irritating. Because, according to the announcement, a;; trains arrive “on the Eighth Avenue-bound track”.
i don’t know what that means. I’m already at Eighth Avenue. Every train that arrives — on whichever of the two tracks — is bound for Eighth Avenue.
And so your announcement means nothing to me, and only serves to irk me. Which means that I tune it out. Which means that I’m less likely to take any of your other announcements seriously.
If some of the speculation is true, I may actually be happy. The penultimate show in the most recent series was terrible — so bad that I didn’t even finish watching, which I haven’t done since the “new” show made its debut with not-Capt.-Slow. The final episode seemed slipshod and enervated. The only good race or challenge throughout the series was the 1949 Race to the North.
Crikey — this is a whole new ballgame! The core characters — Harry, Ron, and Hermione — aren’t ciphers. And I’m finally engaged by a film that goes beyond the rules laid out in Steven Spielberg’s Guide to Blockbusters (and not beyond). I can see why Rowling herself loved this one.
Notes:
1) Boorman’s Excaibur? I mean, I remember wandering around my hometown in emerald, late-night summer light thinking that magical artifacts would be f***ing awesome….
2) Has Hogwarts suddenly moved? To Scotland? Seriously — in the books (and in Columbus’ films), I’d assumed it was in Wales. Now, it seems inarguably to be North of the Border.
3) The camera seems to move relentlessly, like an adolescent.
Bottom line: Best — by a longshot — so far: confronts the source material without bowing down before it.
Bonus question: What does my friend Rufus Blooter think that the great Gambon — after whom TopGear’s final corner is named — is bad? I mean, even in the books he turns a bit … odd … at this point. Harris was dead — no one could reproduce that whisper. Gambon is, IMO, brilliant.
And:
1) Why, compared to the first, does this film feel more like a film and less like Cliff’s Notes?
2) Branagh is outstanding.
3) Rickman is better.
Bottom line: Better than the first, ’cause it’s starting to feel like a real film, as opposed to a gloss.
Bonus question: Why is Hogwarts’ architecture gothic?
It boils down to a few things:
1) Britain is pretty!
2) If you haven’t read the book, you’re f***ed!
3) Which is to say, it all feels like throat-clearing for fans of the printed word.
Bottom line: Enjoyable, but I can’t imagine wanting to see more had I not read the books beforehand.
Bonus question: Why did an American direct this film?