#Theo has it worse but at least Pippa is a good person

[an-architect-of-words]

My gerbil-on-a-wheel brain is envisioning a situation where Theodore Decker and Richard Papen exchange their books and read them while sitting across from each other. They would read in riveted silence, sporadically broken by knowing “hmm”s and appalled gasps.

[beeexx]

The concept of friends is still very strange to Theo. He’s not good at it, he doesn’t know how to do it. “I don’t do friends Boris.” He complained to Boris one evening, and Boris had scoffed. “No you don’t do friends Potter, you do me.” But the truth is, even before his mother he was bad at it. He’s never had many friends in his life, he’s always been rather awkward about it. And when his mother died, well after that everything seemed pointless. Who wanted to be friends with the motherless, angry, odd boy out anyway. Except it seemed, Boris. And Boris and him have never really been just friends, have they. But New York after Amsterdam is different. It’s almost like he’s living a completely new life. And with that, friends are included. It starts one evening when he and Boris take shelter under the nearest café they can find, hiding from the heavy downpour. “I told you we should have brought an umbrella.” Theo says as he shakes the water off his very expensive coat (Burberry), he eyes it with disdain, it better not ruin it. “Is just water Potter.” Boris says happily. Theo eyes their surroundings. It’s one of those cafés that turns into a bar after a certain time. It’s well... actually cozy. Candles on each and every table, and the chairs are mismatched. There are couches and armchairs spread about and the floor is dark wood. It’s a strange place but Theo finds that he can accept it. It’s far from those hippstery new places that seem to pop up everywhere in New York. With stupid white lighting and walls, fucking ikea furniture with plants on every table. It’s like a jungle and then of course the option for vegan food everywhere. It’s all new and modern and it has no fucking charm. Theo hates them. They get a table, because they might as well. It’s surprisingly busy, a mismatched of people of all ages. Theo kind of likes that too. 

And that’s how they meet Valerie. She’s in her early 50s and she’s sat on her own, reading a book. Boris’s being, well Boris is unable to not engage in conversation with her, Theo wants to die. He remembers the book she was reading very clearly. The Waves by Virginia Woolf. Theo rolls his eyes. But she surprises him. She teaches at NYU, introduction to feminist studies. Boris’s already embarrassed Theo by claiming that women do not need to be studied, they are easy, it’s men who are the big mysteries in life. But Valerie chuckles and kindly asks Boris to develop what he’s just said. It turns into an engaging discussion that even Theo can’t help but in engage slightly in. By the end Boris is genuinely considering signing up for a course in women studies and Theo’s surprised to find that Valerie is not too bad as company. She has white long hair, almost down to her waits and she wears jumpsuits, always a different colour when they meet up. She’s cool, even though Theo kind of hates to admit it. She lives on her own, she has two cats. It’s a bit too cliché but Theo’s not one to judge, too much. Their group grows after that. There’s Bea who joins shortly after. She’s short and can’t seem to ever decide on her hair colour. Sometimes it’s bright pink, it’s been blue and green once. Now she seems quite settled on red. She’s always angry. Theo likes her immediately. She scowls and mutters and has it out for the world. She’s intelligent though, and Theo’s not actually sure which one out of the two of them is worse. She works with rescue dogs and on the side she designs websites. She has a girlfriend, Tessa, a nurse who works weird hours but is possibly one of the kindest people Theo’s ever met. They met after Bea had overdosed, it comes up once during conversation, and Theo says, surprising maybe all of them. “Yes, I have first hand experience with that too.” Bea looks at him, something passes between them and Theo thinks they might understand each other a little better after that. The last one to join them is Hugo. A trust fund, ‘daddy paid my way into Stamford’ baby. Who would normally be the last person Theo would ever spend time with. But Hugo’s sweet, too sweet maybe. Trusting but also nervous. Theo’s never seen a person as anxious and nervous as he is. He works for a bank on Wall Street. He hates it, but he’s too scared of everything to quit. By the age of 25 he’s burnt out twice already. He suffers from severe performance anxiety, to the extent that it is becoming hard to do a normal task. It doesn’t help that he’s a perfectionist either. He’s an overachiever without being arrogant. He’s the youngest of them all and yet he already has a soft spot in Theo’s heart. 

It’s strange, but he likes them all. He’s even found he enjoys spending one on one time with them. They usually meet at the café, at least once a week. But sometimes they’ll meet up for dinner and game night. Bea and Tessa has an apartment in the village where they once made the mistake of playing Monopoly. It turned vicious, drinks were thrown, words were said and Theo swears he was ready to break up with Boris. They had some great make up sex after that but they will never play Monopoly again. “Capitalism is the devil, it has made America greedy.” Rings in Theo’s ears still. But yes, Theo is now a person that has friends, people he actually likes. It’s fucking weird. And they all come with their own sets of problems and not so squeaky clean pasts. It makes them interesting Theo’s realising. Not stupid and something that would take time out of his life. No, he finds that it’s nice. He’s learning to open up slowly, with people who don’t expect that much back from him. Who understands him in some ways. They’re carving out their own space in his heart. He didn’t know he even had the capability to care about more people than he did before them. But he does, and it’s a good feeling. Pippa’s so proud though. And she is the best friend (he hates the word) but she loves it and she even bought them a matching set of bracelets that he actually wears. She’s delighted. “I think I am his favourite.” She said jokingly to Boris once. “Potter, should I be jealous. You never wear anything I get you.”  “You buy me a ring Boris and I will wear it.” Boris is actually speechless and Pippa spits out her wine. Theo smirks smugly. It’s not often he one ups Boris. The gang all love Pippa too, it’s not surprising. She’s just that kind of person that everyone likes. Theo really wishes she would spend more time in New York. He misses her always. But they video chat and they send each other memes and books and keep each other involved in their lives. It’s like before, but better. Much better. “Shit!” Theo hears Bea swear. He looks around. They’ve all frozen, some cheese dip have just ended up on the couch. “For fuck’s sake this is an expensive couch.” Theo says. “There he goes.” Boris says. They all look sheepishly at Theo. And he rolls his eyes. “You will all clean this with your bare hands later.” He warns but throws himself down anyway, his feet in Boris’s lap. The group collectively let out a sigh, Theo smirks. Damn right. They’re watching reruns of Bachelor in Paradise. Theo hates it, because they are all stupid. Who would even want to go to a nice paradise island to find the love of your life? But he competes with Bea over who can say the most outrageous sarcastic thing and the rest of them, well Theo hasn’t figured out if they like the show or if they love listening the the bitching. They stay late, and before they all leave they thankfully clean the couch. 

[redorblue]

The Goldfinch, by Donna Tartt

Boy was I hyped for this book. I read The Secret History in September (twice) and had to keep myself from making a shrine to Donna Tartt, so when I finally got my hands on The Goldfinch (which is a Pulitzer Prize winner no less) I was very, very excited. Which, as I keep forgetting, is not a good way to start a new book. So... It’s not like this book was a waste of time, and who am I to criticize a Pulitzer book anyway, but to me it’s definitely not as good as The Secret History, and at times I found it very hard to keep going.

Let’s start with what I liked though. I like how Donna Tartt writes relationships. I read an interview with her the other day where she says that she’s less interested in writing romance than other kinds of relationships. So far I’ve read two of her three novels (and at least in those two it’s very obvious that she doesn’t find romance all that interesting) and I’m very grateful to come across an author who doesn’t treat romance as the end-all-be-all. Granted, her depiction of friendship and family, and really her books in general, are rather dark and I dare say pessimistic, but still, it’s refreshing and superbly done. The main friendship here is the one between the protagonist and narrator, Theo, and his childhood friend Boris whom he meets a few weeks after his mother’s death in a terrorist attack (not committed by Islamists. Thanks, Donna). They soon become the only fixed point in each other’s lives in a solitary world of neglectful and violent fathers and absent/dead mothers. Objectively speaking, neither one is a good influence on the other: Boris is an alcoholic at the tender age of 13 and introduces Theo to a whole lot of other disreputable substances, as well as petty crime, and Theo’s self-destructive behaviour only exacerbates Boris’ tendency toward recklessness. But despite all that they form a strong friendship (with some romantic subtext here and there) based on a deep understanding of the other’s character, and morals aside, it’s really beautiful to see how far they would go for the other. I’d still say that they’re bad for each other and that their relationship is destructive at its core, but not because it’s a bad friendship - rather because their respective personal issues inadvertently make the other’s worse and also have a negative impact on their environment. Actually I think that’s true for most of Donna Tartt’s characters: They’re not really bad people (by whatever standards), and their issues don’t make them bad people either; it’s more the specific combinations in stressful situations that produce bad outcomes for them and others.

Another important relationship in The Goldfinch is the one between Theo and several parental figures: his mother (dead, which leaves him deeply scarred), Mrs Barbour who takes him in for a while after his mother’s death, his father (a relationship that haunts Theo his entire life), and Hobie, his guardian. It’s a rather tired trope to kill the protagonist’s mother in order to induce personal trauma, but I think in this case it’s very well executed and although we only meet her for a few short pages, she feels like a real, layered person instead of some sacrificial lamb meant only to create manpain. Her death, and specifically the manner of her death (the terrorist attack, during which Theo is also injured) leaves a huge hole in his heart and causes a whole bunch of mental health issues, but the reason for that is that we know first hand what a great person, and great mother, she was, and that’s what makes Theo’s pain over her death so relatable. (spoilers) His father, on the other hand, remains rather one-dimensional although he gets a lot more screen time. The only thing I know about him now is that he’s an abusive, unreliable coward, and honestly that’s enough, the less said about him the better. What’s really interesting is not him as a character, but his relationship with Theo, specifically how Theo recognizes (or thinks he recognizes) his father in his every action and urge and how it contributes to his self-loathing and carelessness about his destructive impulses.

So Theo’s biological parents are abusive and/or deceased, which is why he turns to other parent-aged people, namely Mrs. Barbour and Hobie. Especially Theo’s relationship with Mrs. Barbour becomes a bit obsessive, to the point where he mainly agrees to marry his girlfriend (Mrs. Barbour’s daughter) in order to please Mrs. Barbour, but in general they have a positive influence on Theo’s life. Theo has severe mommy/daddy issues and is very insecure toward them since subconciously he always thinks they’ll kick him out, even when he’s financially independent and an adult himself, so he always does his very best to hide his inner torment from them. Of course this is not a good thing in general, but it forces Theo to keep up appearances, to keep it together at least superficially, and I’m pretty sure it’s the only thing that keeps his drug addiction from escalating so much that it impairs his ability to function. They don’t know enough about what’s going on inside him, maybe also turned a blind eye a bit too often in an effort to see what they hoped to see and respect his privacy, but at least he didn’t end up as another body in the gutter, dead from heroin overdose, which would very likely have happened without them.

Lastly, there’s the romantic relationships, if you can call them that. The one with Kitsey (the woman he almost marries) is not really romantic; if anything, Theo’s in love with the idea of being in love with her, and the sense of normalcy that comes with it. It’s quite obvious that he doesn’t really know her, and she doesn’t really know him, and they’re both not remotely interested in changing that since it would mean letting their facades of a normal life without emotional trauma drop, and they’re both not ready for that. Not with each other anyway. They get along well enough when they’re alone although they don’t seem to share any interests, but they’re definitely not marrying for love but rather for convenience.

Theo’s relationship with Pippa, on the other hand, is the complete opposite. I dare say it’s not so much love but obsession that binds him to her, stemming from an emotional connection because of shared trauma (she was a survivor of the same terrorist attack that killed Theo’s mother and left him injured). Theo knows a lot about Pippa, they can talk to each other and they share interests - which would be perfect if in his mind she wasn’t so inextricably linked to his guilt complex about the loss of his mother, and if she reciprocated the feeling. Which thankfully she doesn’t (to that extent, at least; it leaves her enough reason to see things as they are) because she understands very well that what they both need in their lives is not another unstable person. She doesn’t cut ties with him entirely because after all they share many experiences and mean a lot ot each other, but she continually makes it clear that she doesn’t want to be with him - which doesn’t stop him from developing a more or less respectful, but very unhealthy obsession about her. However, while I don’t see anything remotely romantic or cute in this kind of relationship, I like how Donna Tartt executes it. Theo’s relationship with Pippa could very easily be turned into something that the reader is supposed to find romantic - the lonely, broken man pining for his childhood sweetheart - but it’s not. It’s shown for what it is: unhealthy, obsessive, damaging to both of them, a curse rather than a blessing. Which for me makes it all the more interesting, if painful, to observe.

So. Obviously, I liked the interactions between the characters and how they all make so much sense considering their personal backstories. What I didn’t like was mainly the length of it. For the entire 800+ pages the reader is stuck in Theo’s head, and let me tell you, it’s not pleasant in there. On the one hand, descriptions of drug abuse are simply not my thing, I don’t like spending a lot of time in the head of someone who’s constantly on alcohol, painkillers, cocaine and what have you. It’s doubly not my thing if the character in question is 13 years old. The part in Vegas dragged so much I was seriously tempted to put the book down, which goes against my every principle as a bibliophile. It got better when Theo was grown up because the problems of a twenty-something are more interesting to me than those of a teenager - but not much better. Because Theo keeps making the wrong choices (only one wrong choice, really) over and over again, and worse, he keeps whining about all the missed turns. Yes, it makes sense in terms of his character, someone who’s so cagey about personal information doesn’t just walk up to his guardian one day and tells him that he accidentally stole a 65 Mio. Dollar painting - but on the long term it’s so frustrating I kept wanting to shake some sense into him. Theo isn’t a take-charge character (even in the end it was thanks to Boris that the painting finally got back where it belonged), he’s someone who just floats along while wistfully looking at all the missed chances, but there’s only so much I can take of such an approach to life. And it’s definitely less than 800+ pages.

[chicagoindiecritics]

New from Every Movie Has a Lesson by Don Shanahan: MOVIE REVIEW: The Goldfinch

(Image: americamagazine.com)

THE GOLDFINCH — 2 STARS

Normally, the book vs. movie argument centers around missed opportunities. The majority lament becomes about the necessary condensing and trimming executed by writers and filmmakers that shaves too much of the nuanced essence from the sprawling story of the written page. With The Goldfinch, a different effect occurs. Given a longer running time than most movies already and all the patience in the world, any additions of extra depth and detail to the film adaptation would not help. What is already present is bloated, sluggish, and ineffectual. That’s an odd circumstance to say the least. Talk about a movie that should have stayed a book.

The infeasible task of adapting Donna Tartt’s Pulitzer Prize-winning novel fell on Academy Award-nominated Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy screenwriter Peter Straughton (who, just to note, followed his Oscar glow with the trio Frank, Our Brand is Crisis, and The Snowman) and Brooklyn director John Crowley. The title refers to the Rembrandt pupil Carl Fabritius’s treasured 1654 still life painting that hangs today at the Mauritshuis in The Hague. The painting’s existence is significant as one of the few works of the artist to survive an explosion and fire that killed the artist himself in the same year.

Playing with ironic fate, that very painting resides prominently in the fictional setting of another explosion, this one of the terrorist variety occuring this century at New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art. Theo Decker, played by Pete’s Dragon and Wonderstruck child star Oakes Fegley, survives a bombing that killed his beloved mother Audrey (Hailey Wist) while observing Fabritius’s oil-painted panel. The rush of sensory and mental memories of this tragedy manifest throughout the film in flashback snippets of nightmares shared by the teenager and the adult Theo we observe, played by Baby Driver’s Ansel Elgort.

LESSON #1: YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT’S GOING TO DECIDE YOUR FUTURE — Sure, everything ahead of people is unknown, but foresight wouldn’t hurt. Wearing shellshock like a sealing shellac at both ages, Theo is a young man growing in and out of several personal attachments of formative significance. At the time of his mother’s death, he is undefined and without true parents and solid friends. His future clean-cut and reinvented self, clad in tailored suits and posh spectacles, may look like an improvement on the outside, but is worse than the kid he was on the inside.

No matter the lift provided with each relationship, Theo remains consumed by the resonating aftermath of his mother’s death and the presumed destruction and loss of Fabritius’s masterpiece. In just a shade under two-and-a-half hours, The Goldfinch, like the novel, hops back and forth between the past and the present to saunter alongside the guiding tangents in Theo’s life. The transitions are abrupt and terribly uneven, matching the rough gamut of these intersecting people.

With his deadbeat father Larry (Luke Wilson) absent, Theo is taken in by the wealthy Barbour family and their well-to-do matriarch Samantha (Oscar winner Nicole Kidman) and her collection of welcoming or indifferent silver spoon children and schoolmates. A clue from the bombing bonds the inquisitive Theo to a fellow young victim, knotted by their fates, named Pippa (Aimee Laurence) and leads him to her legal guardian James “Hobie” Hobart, a restorer of high-end antiques. Theo would learn the trade and go on to work for Hobie as his slick and cultured front-man salesman.

Theo’s growing comfort and recovery is derailed when Larry resurfaces to claim his son and the financial benefits that come with him. Larry and his prostitute girlfriend Xandra (Sarah Paulson) remove Theo from the bustling and colorful urban penthouse and whisk him west to Las Vegas to a virtually empty housing bubble townhouse subdivision in the flatly beige desert. There, Theo is able to make one awkward friend, a woeful and troublemaking Ukranian immigrant named Boris, played by Stranger Things lead and Timothee Chalamet wannabe Finn Wolfhard.

LESSON #2: DO BETTER THAN MEDICATE YOUR PROBLEMS — From the moment Samatha Barbour volunteers some old prescription meds to Theo, we watch a parade of people offering easy exits and a young man that will never shake those vices. Every hit of a recreational drug, swig of a bottle, or drag of a cigarette adds to tailspin instead of relief. Those choices don’t help a man forget.

Broad character strokes are used to paint every character listed above not named Theo Decker. While this cannot compare to the sympathetic levels as his heart-warming turns in Pete’s Dragon and Wonderstruck, Oakes Fegley impresses mightily with his third performance of youthful loss and self-discovery. The young performer never overacts a single scene. He clearly taken cues and had good practice with this tonal level and it shows. Ansel Elgort is a good match of maturation to Fegley. He too can convey and engage subtle character fractures and always garner your eye contact as a viewer.

Everyone else around them are a revolving door of eccentricity. They are static sculptures of veiled enigma. The likes of Kidman and Wright represent stature and the promising roots of educating morals for the troubled Theo, only to never shift with the highs and lows of the kid. The contrasting flighty factors like Wilson, Paulson, and Wolfhard fare no better. Their presences feel fleeting and little more than soapy opera sludge when they are supposed to matter. It’s astonishing how something so full of eclectic talent could be so empty in impact.

LESSON #3: THE INABILITY TO SHAKE A SENSE OF FAULT — No matter which type of person above Theo confides his trust in, the hindrance to greater connection is thwarted by a burden of his own creation. He blames himself for being the reason he and his mother were even in the museum that fateful day. During this journey, Theo finds some shared tragedy and people to lean on or collapse with, but he is his own worst symptom for healing.

The soft gloss from cinematographer Roger Deakins counts as a feather in this movie’s hat. The camera legend mixes foreground and background points of focus to shroud suspicion and mystery in a striking way. However, it is an effect that given up on after the first 30 minutes. More of that sense of space, atmosphere, and tone could have gone far deeper into such a lengthy and weighty picture. The very same can be said for the very slight and weak score from composer Trevor Gureckis. Many moments could have used some cued oomph to press more importance. What is there is pretty and all, with its privileged (albeit esoteric) ocean of antiquity, but to what end becomes the question.

As aforementioned with the transitions, the meandering pacing of The Goldfinch is nearly maddening. There was more than enough time here and committed work from Fegley and Elgort to cure even the heaviest cement into sturdy drama. Instead, nearly every angle building towards a promised denouement of consequence, especially the titular piece of art, fades horribly to indifference. This story, in movie form, fails to make one care. Anything that lingers feels extraneous at best.

LOGO DESIGNED BY MEENTS ILLUSTRATED (#823)

Permalink

from REVIEW BLOG – Every Movie Has a Lesson https://ift.tt/2Lyh13y via IFTTT

from WordPress https://ift.tt/2AiDKKq via IFTTT