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Gallery

The 1940s in Colour

(The following photos were submited by Junto contributor Ron Alonzo).

The J U N T O depends exclusively on reader support. Please help us continue by contributing directly via PayPal, or by contributing editorial content via Writers.Clearinghouse@comcast.net. Empowered by Writers Clearinghouse | S.P.Q.R. 1976 Richard Carreño, Editor

Philly Politics As Usual



Mayor Michael Nutter: AWOL Again?



SRC Favors Corporate Community

Over True Stakeholders


By Lisa Haver
[Chalk and Talk/Special to Writers Clearinghouse News Service]

Philadelphians still have little say in the workings of the School District. Too often the agenda of the corporate community outweighs the interests of true stakeholders.

Although the new-look Philadelphia School Reform Commission is making headway into the issues facing city schools, a number of their recent decisions have some Philadelphians wondering whether they are really living up to their self-described “transparency”.

One troublesome development was the SRC’s signing of the Great Schools Compact at its November 23, 2011 meeting—held the day before Thanksgiving—after offering limited opportunity for public discussion on it. The millions of dollars in possible grant money attached to the Compact, sponsored by the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, come with a number of mandatory provisions which seriously compromise the SRC’s ability to make its own decisions. These include expansion of the number and size of charter schools, the evaluation and pay of teachers, the closing of neighborhood schools, and the transferring of 50,000 students over the next five years to “high-performing” schools.

Recently, an eight-member committee was appointed by the SRC to coordinate implementation of the Great Schools Compact. This committee includes representatives from the Mayor’s office, the Pennsylvania Department of Education, the Philadelphia School District, and administrators from three charter schools. No community members, teachers, parents or students are represented.

There has yet to be a chance for any of the true stakeholders of city public schools to weigh in on the Great Schools Compact, an agreement that will change the landscape of the Philadelphia School District for many years to come. However, the Philadelphia School Partnership—a newly created organization whose board is top-heavy with investment bankers—has become a major player in advancing the cause of privatization as “reform,” and has managed to place Mark Gleason, PSP’s Executive Director, on the Great Schools Compact committee as a “non-voting” member; Scott Gordon, CEO of Mastery Charter Schools, is also a non-voting member.

This Great Schools Compact Committee was not elected by the people and is not directly accountable to them. One wonders how investment bankers and charter school operators have become such heavy hitters in deciding the future of city public schools. How has the corporate community come to overshadow the district’s true stakeholders?

Another issue with transparency was the recent restructuring of the School District’s administration. At the January 16th SRC meeting, not once did any of the SRC members feel compelled to mention to those in attendance that the administration of the school district was about to be completely reconfigured. That was announced three days later, along with the shocker that they had named Thomas Knudsen, former director of the Philadelphia Gas Works, the District’s new Chief Recovery Officer and interim superintendent with no set limits on his range of powers.

Now taxpayers must cough up $25,000 a month to pay yet another businessman to oversee the district. Now we find out that Mr. Knudsen plans to hire even more costly consultants to straighten-out the financial and administrative mess left by Arlene Ackerman. Apparently, that’s his prerogative; we were never told what his prerogatives would be.

Unfortunately, it is hard to figure out how and when the public will ever have a chance to weigh in on any of these issues. Previously, the SRC convened on Wednesdays; official proposals were distributed and discussed at one meeting and voted on the next. The new SRC now has one formal meeting each month, and they have yet to explain how anyone can view its agenda prior to that day. How can the public comment on or question proposals they don’t get a chance to see?

It seemed, initially, that one exercise in transparency might be the SRC’s decision to schedule a series of meetings at neighborhood schools where parents and community members could discuss their criteria for finding a permanent superintendent. A 10-member committee has been designated by the SRC to conduct the search and vote for its choice; no parents, teachers or students have been selected to be part of that body, either.

The first of these forums, held at Simon Gratz High School last week, was not run by School District personnel but by facilitators from the Penn Project on Civic Engagement. The gathering of about one hundred people was immediately divided into smaller groups, and a printed list of talking points was given to each to discuss. No time was allotted for the whole group to ask questions of the four committee members who were present. Can a meeting with a pre-determined agenda, run by paid facilitators, truly be described as an opportunity for Philadelphians who have a stake in this system to be heard?

When will Philadelphians have a chance to be heard on the critical issues—academics, finances, school safety and climate—which now face our schools? And why are they being pushed aside to make room for those who largely represent corporate interests? It seems that the true stakeholders in the Philadelphia School District have neither the money nor the power to get a seat at the table.

(Lisa Haver is a retired Philadelphia teacher and education activist. She can be reached at via lhaver1039@yahoo.com. This article first appeared in Chalk and Talk, a education blog).

Actor Attacks...

Anthony Lawton

... Junto Contributor

The following is an exchange between Dan Rottenberg, editor of BroadStreetReview.com, and the actor Anthony Lawton. At issue is a review (go to BroadStreetReview.com to see it) written by Jackie Atkins, who is also a Junto contributor. I've also written by BroadStreetReview.com. Funny thing. It's the only place where I've been a contributor where critics in letters frequently fling personal attacks at the writers they're critcizing. As is the case in this letter by Lawton, such mud-slinging mired in a total misunderstanding of a critic's role (a almost congenital problem among many of the most outspoken BroadStreetReview.com letter writers) undermines anything of value they might have to say.

Anthony,

Thanks for your letter below, which I'd like to post as part of our continuing dialogue.

As an admirer of your work, especially The Great Divorce, I'm dismayed that you seem unfamiliar with Broad Street's Review's mission. From our perspective, we're not arbiters of taste here; we're just trying to foster conversation among people who've attended a given performance— whether they're critics or customers, professionals or amateurs, wise or foolish. As far as I know, Jackie Akins isn't a professional critic, but whether she is or isn't makes no difference to me. I was intrigued by her idiosyncratic response to The Great Divorce, so I posted it in the hope that it would trigger further discussion, as indeed it has.

Best regards,

Dan

Feb 15, 2012

From Anthony Lawton 4:51pOnm Feb 15

Dear Dan:

I must respectfully dispute your claim that it ill behooves an actor to blame anyone for failing to grasp a play's intended message.Or, rather, I don't dispute you -- in well over 99% of cases. I have gotten at least one pan -- probably a lot more -- in each of my 20 years as a professional artist. More than 99% of the time, not only do I not blame a critic for not getting the point; more than 99% of the time, I think they're probably right. Much of the target of criticism is a question of taste -- there is room for difference of opinion, and the inherent ambiguity of some plays makes it impossible to judge them with a single, correct interpretation. Moreover, I have never imagined that any work I have generated is perfect. But 2 years ago, Wendy Rosenfield characterized my play, The Foocy, as an anti-Semitic work.Sorry, but I must object. First of all, she is wrong. In my subsequent correspondence with her, I got her to admit that 99 out of 100 audience members would probably never interpret my play in that way. So even she admits that she was wrong. Second, and more importantly, she owes it to me, in justice, to retract a statement that is so thoughtless and damaging. I owe it to myself to demand that retraction from her. Granted, as an artist, I make myself vulnerable, in public, to the brickbats of critics, and it's ungracious of me to whine if someone doesn't like my work. But this wasn't just a question of someone's disliking my work. It was a question of an admittedly wrong-headed misrepresentation of my work, so far outside of the realm of common sense that it gave the public a false and slanderous idea of me. You have seen The Great Divorce, and you must admit that Ms. Atkins understanding of the work is disastrously wrong. That I, or anyone, would argue that etiquette is the grounds for salvation is preposterous; the wealth of imagery in the piece supports her block-headed interpretation not at all. One might as well argue that Death of a Salesman is about gay rights, or that The Foreigner is about spelling reform.Ms. Atkins is, in effect, publicly accusing me of stupidity. And she is not one to talk. When I was in high school, I learned to write an essay that had a clear thesis, and which then presented clear argumentation and evidence in support of that thesis. Ms. Atkins would have flunked out of my high school in half a semester.I am content to let competent critics spew bile at me in public. But I should not have to suffer the published contempt of someone who can't spell the word "murderer," and who can't understand a simple literary theme or metaphor.It is not clear, on your website, that these reviews are unsolicited, and it is not clear what "unsolicited" means. Does that mean that anyone who has a mind to can submit a review? If that's the case, you must make it clearer on your home page. For all the public knows, Ms. Atkins is a qualified journalist. For all the public knows, she has an ounce of discernment. The public has no way of knowing that she is a hack and an amateur. One more argument: critics fire from a position of relative safety, and they have little to lose. They have all the capacity to hurt, and very little vulnerability to being hurt. As a result, many of them quickly acquire a taste for cruelty and contempt, because artists think it "ill behooves" them to respond. To my way of thinking, it can't hurt a critic to have someone return fire once in a while. Maybe -- maybe -- Ms. Atkins will put a little more thought into her next review if I (perish the thought) hurt her feelings a little. Ah, probably not.I concede that I can't be objective on this question. The Great Divorce is a piece that is near to my heart; I make myself very vulnerable, emotionally and intellectually, every time I present it in public. Many critics have disliked it, and I'm content to let them have their say. But I will not stand by idly while a dunce, masquerading as a professional journalist, tells the world that black is white. I guess there is no way for me to come off as unbiased or gracious if I choose to defend myself in this way, and, in that respect, perhaps it "ill behooves" me to do so. But gracious or biased or not, I still have a right to defend myself.

Windsor Confidental -- Exposed!

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WINDSOR CONFIDENTIAL:
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Edited by Richard Carreño

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The J U N T O depends exclusively on reader support. Please help us continue by contributing directly via PayPal, or by contributing editorial content via Writers.Clearinghouse@comcast.net. Empowered by Writers Clearinghouse | S.P.Q.R. 1976 Richard Carreño, Editor

Moon-Struck: Some Visitors to Tanner Exhibit at PAFA (See 'Miles' in Side-bar at Right)

The J U N T O depends exclusively on reader support. Please help us continue by contributing directly via PayPal, or by contributing editorial content via Writers.Clearinghouse@comcast.net. Empowered by Writers Clearinghouse | S.P.Q.R. 1976 Richard Carreño, Editor

Gallery

The J U N T O depends exclusively on reader support. Please help us continue by contributing directly via PayPal, or by contributing editorial content via Writers.Clearinghouse@comcast.net. Empowered by Writers Clearinghouse | S.P.Q.R. 1976 Richard Carreño, Editor

FLY ON THE WALL: Gastro Con-FUSION Rules

Beer? Wine?
How to Douse
Three-alarm Spicy Asian Foods

By Don Merlot
[Writers Clearinghouse News Service]

Every year there are more and more publications and editors discussing food and wine, analyzing trends in major markets regardinging preferences and expectations of global gastronomy. They report consumer changes.


Years ago, during the classical era between the World Wars, gastronomic trends were centered on the wines of the Grand Crus of Bordeaux and Burgundy in France, the Grande Haute Cuisines of Western European, and the Michelin stars in Paris and Lyon. Europe dominated the wine and food culture. Political and cultural history will argue. But with the victories of the Allies. the economic world became part of the PAX AMERICANA.

To America G.I.’s brought home the foods and drinks of Europe and Asia. New York became the capital of America, and America was reaching its cultural zenith. Since that time all the foods of the major markets became American fusion foods. Before of this fusion food trend, American expectations followed the local habits on serving food and drink, but as new foods were introduced to the mix, new tastes and spices were brought onto the menu.

Traditionally, spicy food was accompanied by a beer. Many spicy foods originated in tropical East Indian and West Indian climates and European Colonialist brought their beers to their new colonies: Indian food with English Ales, Dutch beers with Indonesian foods& Southeast Asian foods, German beers with Chinese foods, Mexican and American beers with Mexican and southwest foods.

Eventually the new world focused on food preparation from the Northeast to California (USA) and later Australia. The blend of cultures created fusion food which created a new breed of chefs who became artists in their food creations and were matched with the new vineyards. In London, Amsterdam, Brussels, and Hong Kong, Bangkok, and Sydney wines began to be served with the spicy foods from Asia and Mexico.

Many Americans, if they do not experiment on their own with wines and spicy food, will go to their wine shop and rely on the advice of the wine attendant, who, in turn, relies on his the wine supplier purveyor/wholesaler. I have noted in traveling through many mega wine shops that wines written up as going with spicy foods rarely if ever are found on the shop shelves. There is little choice or selection.

Many East Indian restaurants (in all major markets) rather than stocking wine developed a BYOB (bring your own bottle) programme that allows their own choice.

This new trend --matching wines with spicy dishes -- is more difficult than the traditional matching because you want to balance these new strong flavours as we matched the European cuisine. Again, you have to know your own tastes and expectations and understand the taste of the food that the chef has used in his food preparation.

Traditional wine protocols matched white with fish (or white meats) and red with red meats or preparations that need to be blended with rich protein and fat. Knowing what Chardonnay (Creamy/buttery fish dishes) or Sauvignon Blanc (grilled shell fish) you like is good with classic food and or Pinot Noir with lighter red meats or merlot with steaks or Rhone wines or Cabernet Sauvignon with a roasted lamb or a roast beef. Matching a spicy meal with a traditional white or heavy tannin red wine may not be such a good idea because the taste you like will not be the same with some of the spices.

My first exposure to spicy Asian cooking started in the Caribbean and South America. How so? The Dutch Antilles, the British Caribbean, and Surinam were my first ports of call, and my customers were Dutch and English. When the Europeans came to the New World, they brought their foods with them; and from their East Indian colonies and their subjects brought their manpower for labour loads for West Indian trading systems.

The new East Indians in the New World brought their foods to places like Trinidad, Curaçao and St. Marteen; the diets were not just from the European fare from the motherland. Not only did I get exposed to the Asian cooking, I learned the glossary of the foods and the menus. Beer (Bass Ale) was the beverage of a Raj Curry and/or the Indonesian rijstaffel (a Dutch word meaning 'rice table,' individual preparation of Indian foods) or Heineken.

My first Spicy East Asian/European experience was in England at an Indian restaurant in Central London. My English colleagues were very big “Raj curry” aficionados. I found the English were inclined to drink a pint of ale as an aperitif, but would switch to wine with the meal. We were hosting other European catering executives, and we knew we wanted to match the meal with a wine; Gewürztraminer was the preferred choice. I knew this wine from Alsace before, as my French mates who knew wines had introduced me to Alsatian wines with French Alsatian cooking: Choucroute, another story for another day. My French friends were adamant that French wine was the only way to go. They would not drink a German Riesling, but they would have an Alsatian Riesling. Same is true of a Pinot Gris from Alsace; drink that instead of a Pinot Grigio from Northern Italy: SGN stands for Selection de Grains Nobles -– semi-dry; and Vendage Tardive. These can be aged, so in selecting this wine keep in mind that it should age in the bottle.

Chacun son on gout!

England does not have great wines, and the English gentlemen and Publicans match foreign wines with their foods.

For me, learning this for myself was a phenomenal experience. The restaurant was Veraswamy’s, nestled in between Regent Street and Piccadilly Street. This is a true Raj setting. The dining room was filled with wafting aromas of saffron rice, cardamom, cinnamon, anise seeds, and cloves and cumin which made my mouth water. When it came to ordering the wine we were focused on an Alsatian Gewürztraminer. The range of this varietal is dry to sweet. To match it with a curry the drier is better for the low picante dishes to medium levels; and the fuller sweeter wine is for the regular and fierier spice, (for the more fiery curry requires the sweeter version of varietal.)

In Indian, Thai, Malaysian, Nonya, Indonesian cuisine/scenes, a wine that has its own distinct taste when matched is Gewürztraminer, a Germanic varietal, that is noted in Alsace (France); Gewurz is spice in German and is a varietal. It is also grown in Australia, Chile, and in the Pacific Northwest of the United States. In Europe, the Alsatian is the most noted with spicy Asian Cuisine. Since wine trends have shifted as gastronomy has changed, there is a lot of selection.

The following is a demarcation: In France (Alsace) SGN stands, as already noted, for Selection de Grains Nobles -– semi-dry; and Vendage Tardive. These last two can be aged, so selecting this wine at a store or a restaurant keep in mind that it should age a few years in the bottle to mature. Gewürztraminer, spicy grape (Geh-virts trah-mee-neer).

Other white wines arealso matched with Asian spicy food. It comes back to taste and who is ordering, but wine is now becoming de riguer with spicy Asian Cuisine.

Viognier, French varietal (Vee-own-yay)


Pinot Blanc


Chenin Blanc


Unoaked Chardonnay


Off dry Riesling or semi-sweet Riesling

Red wine does go with Asian spicy food and are matched with spicy food.


Beaujolais, Gamay varietal


Pinot Noir


Shiraz blends (Australian variation of the Syrah grown in France and the USA)

Curries and Indonesian (and Chinese) food when accompanied with wine should be an occasion. A group meal family style is recommended where all dishes are shared.

Sipping a wine with a meal has become part of a modern ritual for lunch and dinner. At private gatherings usually the host provides or offers a white or a red (in the USA in particular a rosé has become very popular). When it comes to spicy food think of the first wine serving and an aperitif. If you plan to eat spicy food you may have to shift to a wine that will match the spicy food. I have suggested some wines that are not the first tier (popular wines) in most markets.

If you’re favourite sipping wines are a dry Sauvignon Blanc such as Sancerre or a French white unoaked Chardonnay (Chablis); or an old zinfandel (fully mature ) and eat it with spicy food it may be a disappointment in not matching up to the layer of spices. Next time, seriously, try a Gewürztraminer and or a Beaujolais.

If this matching does not work for you, consider going back to tea, or stick to beer, and keep in mind that old Victorian saying, ”It is better to have loved and lost than never loved at all.”

(In his other life, el Don is known as Ron, Ron Alonzo).

Hollywood Confidential

 (Photo: Writers Cleraringhouse News Service)

Brand Bookshop, Glendale, California

LA GOES LITERATE

By Richard Carreño
[Writers Clearinghouse News Service]
Los Angeles
Los Angeles is one of my favourite bookish cities.

What, Tinseltown, the Entertainment Capital of the World (read, Hollywood); and home of the upcoming, umpteenth Academy Awards show, the world's greatest showcase of tasteless ritz 'n glitz, is going literate?

Who knew?

What would, I daresay, Dorothy Parker or F. Scott Fitzgerald, two of Lalaland's sharpest critics, think?

Parker probably would now say the same thing I'm saying: That in the last decade or two LA is belatedly getting a much-deserved 800 on its SAT Readings score. Fitzgerald? Well, 'I'll drink to that!'

Of course, tourists have nothing to fear. Hollywood sleaze still prevails at Hollywood and Vine. Kiddies still get the ride of a lifetime at Universal Studios, and, if you're lucky, you too can still spot a B-lister on Rodeo Drive or on Melrose.

My LA, however, is one of bookshops. Consistent, perhaps, since I'm a founding partner (along with my late father) of @philabooks|booksellers, an on-line, Philadelphia-based used bookstore. My work requires periodic book buying sprees to various cities where, over time, I've found particular success in finding titles in my speciality areas: books by and about John O'Hara; the Duke and Duchess of Windsor; books about the The New Yorker; equestrianism; and the arts (particularly about mid-20th century European and American painting and about museums).

I've honed my book buying to Boston (John O'Hara and equestrian pursuits); Washington (again, riding; and the Windsors); New York (John O'Hara and, not surprisingly, The New Yorker); and to my hometown of Philadelphia (local boy O'Hara, the Windsors, and horsey titles). Lastly, there's Los Angeles. And, this being mega-city LA, of course, its Southland environs get included.

While other back-East cities seem to emphasise, as I've noted, specific speciality areas, Los Angeles bookshops (and I count used bookstores at local libraries among these) have a lot of everything. I've long ago given up trying to understand the 'science' of bookbuying and bookselling. It is what it is, as they say. So, if my other bookbuying cities have a smattering of this or that, my LA caters to all my interest areas.

Moreover (and, at this point, I trust that my West Coast comrades will leave the room), LA pricing is generally about 50 percent, yes, 50 percent, cheaper than those found back East. In other words, I'm looking at an immediate 25 to 50 percent markup. Sometimes, even a 100 percent, or a keystone, markup since many titles are woefully underpriced at retail here. (Without mentioning names, I came away a few years ago with about a half-dozen O'Hara titles that way, and have since successfully keystoned them).

I was at a wedding at a private house last weekend, in the Mar Vista hills, overlooking a truly breath-taking view of West Hollywood (despite the area's name, no ocean views, unfortunately), when I learned that my table companion, Richard Gibson, was a collector and seller of fine art books. (Ted Gibson Framing, 4271 West 3rd Street). Later, I also learned that Gibson comes highly tauted. I'm not surprised. In between, wedding toasts, he spoke knowledgeably about his book collection and fine art framing.

Whether I'm in Long Beach on a visit to Acres of Books, LA's largest secondhand bookshop; to Book City in Hollywood; or to bookshops in Los Feliz, where my brother Mark lives, the range, number, and speciality of local bookshops never fail to inspire hope about the written word and the future of the printed page. (Forget Kindle. At outdoor cafes here, you see readers reading books).

I even like some shops with new books; though unless I encounter deep discounting, I rarely bother with them for serious buying. (Still, who can not like Hennessey+Ingalls in Santa Monica, one of the world's great art and architecture bookshops).

True, any reverie that places LA, the nation's second largest city, as the West's principal book haven doesn't always stack up with the statistics. Or alledged statistics. Believe it or not, an institution of higher learning, Central Connecticut State University, has even come up recently with data that shows Los Angeles as the 59th 'literate' city in the United States, behind, ahem, way behind, such well-known cultural meccas as Tulsa; Lincoln, Nebraska; and Tampa. (Philadelphia, at 31, also wins out).

Connecticut State has also crunched the numbers regarding bookshops per 10,000 residents in the top 75 US cities. How much humbug are these stats? Well, Newark, New Jersey, is ranked No 1. Philadelphia is 37, even with Borders closing on Broad Street. New York is 68. Los Angeles, 70. Please, enough said.

To my mind, Conn State's figures fail to pass the smell test. Who can't remember just 10 years back when Center City Philly was richer by at least five other prominent bookshops? Manhattan? Same thing. Back East, bookshops are a dying breed. Here, despite Conn State stats, they're thriving.

In all, I can easily count up to 50 bookshops in Los Angeles within easy driving distance. In sheer number alone, try that, Philadelphia! Even mid-town Manhattan!

Like driving, bookshops are part of the daily culture here. I was having lunch Tuesday with Mark at the Figaro (a fabulous French bistro on Vermont Avenue), and I was flanked by at least three bookstores and the Los Feliz branch of the Los Angeles Public Library. The nearby Skylight on North Vermont Avenue is probably is best known. New books only. Still, I usually wind up buying something.

For one reason another (again, the science of the thing), many local bookshops specialize in travel. Many others, not surprisingly, concentrate on show biz in all its forms, from film to music.

More evidence of literary LA? The Los Angeles Times Festival of Books, its 16th, to be held at the University of Southern California campus here from 21-22 April, is one of the largest in the country.

Actually, my favourite LA bookshops aren't exactly in LA, but rather in Glendale, best known for its 'Beverly Hills' of Hollywood's deceased, Forest Lawn cemetery.

To a Philadelphian, describing Glendale results in a jumble of tangled bits, in that no Philadelphia suburb quite matches Glendale in population and building density, walkability, and affluence. Wilmington, Delaware, might be something like it if Wilmington were located where Upper Darby is (with no West Philly in between) and with a main street that sported a Tiffany's and other up-market shops. And, of course, 'niceness.' If Glendale were in Ireland, it'd be the kind of place where Postman Pat would tip his tam 'o shanter and offer you a 'top of the morin'.' People smile and take pride in the community. (Earlier this week, I noticed a pedestrian on the main drag, Brand Boulevard, picking up and disposing of a stray newspaper. Why? Because he just cared).

In this idyllic place (don't forget the palm trees), I've found my top fav bookshops, four in all. Thankfully, a branch of Barnes & Noble has replaced the Borders on Brand that bit the dust. Hold on! This isn't just any B&N. In its location, in the new Americana mall, it's the largest in square footage and inventory west of the Mississippi, more than three times the size of the B&N on Rittenhouse Square in Philly. And the branch specializes in books, not the book paraphernalia that seems to encroach on B&N branches back East.

It's also a 'sustainable.' Not surprising, this being California and all. 'Do you want paper or plastic?' the youthful sales associate asked before wrapping my purchase. When learning of my Philly roots, he added, 'We're sustainable here. I don't think you have paper bags at the branches back East yet.' He was right.

Bookfellers, also on Brand, is another favourite. This place is especially well stocked in American literature. (In other words, John O'Hara country). For the arts and equestrian titles, the Glendale Public Library's resale shop, the Book Nook, is the place to go. When in idle conversation, I mentioned that I was from Philadelphia, the sales associate was genuinely interested in my bookbuying adventures. Had I tried the Goodwill store, with its extensive collection of used books? I had. It was closed. 'Anyway, welcome to Glendale!' she said.

For my purposes, I can find no better book emporium in Los Angeles than Brand Bookshop on North Brand Boulevard, overseen by the genial and knowledgeable Jerome Joseph. (And aged. He's 83. His son, who also works in the shop, is 63. A murky future, maybe?)

Since 1986, Mr. Joseph has presided over an inventory of more than 100,000 titles. This is shop that caters to my every whim. I whip off the shelf Roger Scruton's On Hunting. Two books, one by Lllian Ross and other by E.J. Kahn, Jr., whet my New Yorker interest. What? Two books by Margaret Cabell Self, the mid-20th century eminence grise of riding instruction. These too are spoken for in short order. I scope out the shelves, yes, shelves of books on museums.

Brand Bookshop does what few other used book stores can't or are unwilling to do. Books are clean, plentiful, and reasonably priced. And uniquely sold by Mr. Joseph, one of the most kindly and convivial booksellers I have ever met. That combination, no doubt, accounts for the fact that Brand Bookshop is rated, year after year, as the 'BEST USED BOOKSTORE' in LA by Los Angeles Magazine.

'Good to see you again,' Mr. Joseph told me as I concluded my purchase.

Needless to say, as well, for bookbuyers, welcome to Glendale.

A Message from the President

What do you want to ask me?



Good afternoon,
Today, I was in Michigan. Yesterday, it was Colorado and Nevada. Before that, it was Iowa and Arizona. The day after I delivered my State of the Union Address to Congress, I took off to connect with ordinary Americans around the country, talk more about our Blueprint for an America Built to Last, and get some feedback.

That's why I'm writing you.

On Monday we're going to do something a little different. At 5:30 p.m. ET, I'll walk into the Roosevelt Room across the hall from the Oval Office, take a seat, and kick-off the first-ever completely virtual town hall from the White House.

All week, people have been voting on questions and submitting their own, and a few of them will join me for a live chat.

What do you want to ask me?

This is going to be an exciting way to talk about the steps that we need to take together at this make-or-break moment for the middle class.

We have to foster a new era for American manufacturing -- rewarding companies for keeping jobs here at home and eliminating tax breaks for those who ship jobs overseas. We have to invest in homegrown energy in the United States -- starting with an all-out, all-of-the-above energy strategy that's cleaner, cheaper, and full of new jobs. We have to build an economy that works for everyone -- where every hard working American gets a fair shot, everyone does their fair share, and the rules are the same from top to bottom.

I'm ready to get started, but I know you have questions and ideas for ways to help. So let's hear them:

http://www.whitehouse.gov/sotu-questions

Thanks,
President Barack Obama

No Fuss, No Fussball

Just Tailgating a la française

By Don Merlot

[Writers Clearinghouse News Service]
New Orleans

The hardest process in developing a wine taste is to follow your own instinct. And differ with the experts if you dare.

     You want to keep learning, but you have to become independent in what you like and what is available when you buy and entertain, you do not want people to cut you off because you become a wine snob. Deciding what you like and what your rules are going to be. This in no way is a standard to judge one who wants to stake out his claim as to what wine to drink with what food and or what wine is in the premier tier and which one is not.

     My rule No. 1 is to look for the differences and disregard the similarities. The hardest thing to do is order the wine at a restaurant when there are too many independent wine tastes at my table. But rather than pleasing someone another’s tastebuds, make the choice your choice.

     To me one of the most epicurean food and wine events was going to a football game and tailgating with a group of 10 to 12 people. Every time we went, I was in charge of the gastronomic repast.

     Being near to Chicago, at the time, this afforded me a chance to buy a variety of wines from Europe and California. One of my favourite stops was visiting The House of Glunz. The senior Mr. Glunz was probably 70 years old, and he let us in and showed us the different wines he imported. He taught us about Sherry, from Manzanilla, Fino, and Amontillado to Oloroso.

     We then would go to Bragnos and buy magnums of Beaujolais Village wines, my choice of wine with rib eye roast. We also purchased a white Sancerre to go with the appetizer, a New Orleans shrimp rémoulade.

     This country fare was a real treat, and we felt that our meal rivaled as any other tailgate feast. I favoured the Sancerre (Sauvignon Blanc) with the spicy/lemony rémoulade shrimp. Dry Sherry was an option too -- Tio Pepe Fino sherry became the No.1 option. We had loaves of baguettes to go with the slow roasted beef and the Beaujolais was just right for the pre-game lunch. We would make espresso laced with Armagnac and offer a Harvey Bristol cream before marching off to the game. (Great for autumn games as weather cooled off)

     I learned in France that serving a wine with a pedigree was not necessary every time you had a great meal. The French felt that Englishmen and Americans get too wrapped up with famous labels and do not look for the Terroire of the region The Terroire is a major French factor that dominates the French appreciation of wine.

     In all of my globetrotting, I've learned that the two cultures that focus most on food and taste are the French and the Chinese. In food and wine pursuits they are quite separate and different, but the culture establishes the order of dining process.

     When it comes to white wine the less alcohol, the less sweet and younger is first consumed and the progression goes on until the colour is almost amber and golden liquid becomes sweeter. Red also goes from young to old, light in colour to dark, and from young and dry to full bodied and silky tannin. Some think a port is the ultimate end of the process.

     In all the French meals I savoured, a beef roast went -- instead of a full Bordeaux or full Burgundy -– with pride from the French with a Beaujolais: I found the favourite was a good Beaujolais Village.

     My favourite starter in New Orleans is a shrimp rémoulade. I have it everywhere they served it, but my wife’s grandmother, a Louisiana Spanish Creole from St. Bernard Parish, made the best. It matched perfectly with a Sancerre. We served it as a New Orleans dinner as a starter all the time.

     The rib eye roast was laced with garlic and slow roasted the way a the French taught me: Rub olive oil and crushed garlic prepared at room temperature -- a raw roast. Under a broiler char the outside of roast. Bring down to the lowest oven temperature setting and let it sit in the oven 4 hours. I always timed it to start at 10 pm. Finished the prep and charring by mid night and time to over to stop at 0400. We would wrap the roast by 0700 and take off to the game. By 1030 – 1100 we would pull into the parking for the tail gate and set the table up. By 1130 we were eating a feast. By 1230 we walked to the game and took our seats. As the French say, what super souvenirs.

     The desserts were found in a Swiss pastry shop and were phenomenal: Italian rainbow cake, cannolis, Napoleons, éclairs

     The wine never failed me. And even today we have this combination, and, yes, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. It is a great sophisticated tailgating experience with a gourmet meal.

(Don Merlot, AKA Ron Alonzo, is writing a book about his escapades in food and wine). 

The J U N T O depends exclusively on reader support. Please help us continue by contributing directly via PayPal, or by contributing editorial content via Writers.Clearinghouse@comcast.net. Empowered by Writers Clearinghouse | S.P.Q.R. 1976 Richard Carreño, Editor

Public and Private

Romney:

Mitt in Public

Willard in Private


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newt noun a small lizard-like creature...

... that can live in water or on land.

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Armed Renta-Goon
Protects Museum
By Richard Carreño
[Writers Clearinghouse News Service]
Philadelphia
I visited the National Museum of American Jewish History, on Philadelphia's historic Independence Mall, earlier this week. As on previous occasions, I was impressed. This museum is, yes, an 'identity museum.' In other words, as other like institutions, it sets to identify, define, and explore its fixed ethnic mandate. There are other similar museums, those for American Indians, African Americans, and the like. When these museums simply celebrate and trumpet their themes, the museums fail as institutions of learning. Read, hagiographic propaganda. This not the case with Jewish museum. While the museum is hardly an institution of 'higher' learning (many exhibits often fall short of true depth), the overall achievement of the museum is first-rate. The museum, at this site and in this new building, is only a year old. During my visit this week, I wandered for more than four hours. I would have stayed longer. But I had another afternoon appointment. On the way out, I filled out a comment card.


And I commented --  on the only real objection I have (other than the museum's unwieldy, tongue-twisting name): the black-shirted, armed, renta-goon that 'welcomes' visitors as they enter the museum's Market Street entrance. Like all museums, the Jewish museum needs security. And, given its special circumstances as a Jewish identity museum, added security is no doubt necessary. But like the most TSA airport security, the armed guard, festooned with a bullet-proofed vest labelled AGENCY, is simply security theatre. (That's AGENCY, as in Acme Security Agency. Hardly, FBI). A crazy, like the nut-case that attacked Washington's Holocaust Museum a few years ago, or a committed terrorist, will not be deterred by the guard. On the other hand, the guard does send a message of another form of terror -- that the museum administration is sufficiently insecure that that it needs intimidate the average museum goer. Hello, hardly kid-friendly. Even the TSA has backed off on scaring children.


Proper security is smart security. Fright wigs aren't the answer.


I was surprised to receive that following thoughtful response:


Mr. Carreno –
Thank you for visiting the Museum and for your note. I’m glad you had a positive experience.

As you can imagine, we must take security concerns very seriously. We are in a highly visible and accessible public location and, sadly, Jewish institutions have frequently been the targets of terrorist attacks and other unfortunate incidents. Our aim is to make our visitors feel safe and secure, which is why we station an armed security guard at the entrance and employ numerous other security measures. Clearly we do not want anyone to feel threatened by our security guards, but we do want those guards to be a visible presence that acts as a deterrent against would-be attackers. We follow this procedure per the advice of some of the leading experts in the security field.

As it happens, yours is only the second complaint or concern about our policy of stationing an armed guard at our entrance since our opening last November. Indeed, many visitors have praised our security measures and told us that they appreciate our attention to that concern.

I hope this answer was helpful and that you’ll visit again.

Sincerely,
Jay Nachman
Public Relations Director
National Museum of American Jewish History
101 South Independence Mall East
Philadelphia, PA 19106-2517

The Arts

Model  Behaviour
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Gallery

MODERN Times
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The Junto depends exclusively on reader support. Please help us continue by contributing directly via PayPal, or by contributing editorial content via Writers.Clearinghouse@comcast.net. Empowered by Writers Clearinghouse | S.P.Q.R. 1976 Richard Carreño, Editor

Fashion Report

Vicky Tiel Clucks
on Chic Chicks

'A great read. Buy this book now!'
Richard Carreño, The Philadelphia Junto

"A naughty girl when that was the best a girl could be, inventor of the mini, Paris couturier at 18, Vicky Tiel tells spicy tales from dressing Kim, Ursula and Miles Davis, teasing Woody Allen, staying up late with Princess Grace and more intimate tales than you thought you'd want to know from her years in the entourage of Liz and Dick. Comes complete with tricks you need: bedroom advice, supermodels' diet guide, how to get men to give jewelry and the recipe for a perfect pink tunafish sandwich."

--Gael Greene, author of Insatiable: Tales from a Life of Delicious Excess


"A delicious romp...her memoir reads like all of the juiciest bits of your favorite gossip magazine, pushing back the curtains of an over-the-top life among the who's who of the '60s-'80s."
--Kirkus Review

The New York Times
'Vicky Tiel’s 40-Year Career in Fashion,' Christopher Petkanas, August 19, 2011
If you are famous for dressed-to-spill goddess gowns beloved by women like Joan Collins and Halle Berry — steel stays radiating pitilessly from the diaphragm — then deciding what to wear to pick up a reporter at a train station in upstate New York might pose a challenge.

Wall Street Journal
'A Miniskirt Started It.'Pia Catton, August 13, 2011
If you have not been frolicking throughout Europe and Hollywood with the rich and famous this summer, you may wish to dive into the memoir of fashion designer and bon vivant Vicky Tiel. “It’s All About the Dress” is a breeze through her 40 years in the worlds of fashion, celebrity, sex and food. Ms. Tiel dressed Elizabeth Taylor, Goldie Hawn and Jane Fonda, and partied with Miles Davis, Warren Beatty and Aaron Spelling. Reading her stories is a grand time all on its own. Read more>

Women's Wear Daily
'Vicky Tiel Releases Tell-All Book,' By Lorna Koski
Vicky Tiel enjoyed remarkable success very early in life — and, unlike many who do so, she’s been able to keep it up. The designer says this is because she’s so driven. When she was just 20, she and her friend Mia Fonssagrives, like Tiel a recent Parsons graduate, launched their own collection in Paris. Life magazine devoted a prominent spread to them in 1965.

Palm Beach Pulse
Vicky Tiel says: If you want your prince to come, get a good dress.(Jan Tuckwood, August 18, 2011)
If you want to discover the power of fashion, persuade a woman to strip down in a dressing room.
Naked women tell the truth, says designer Vicky Tiel.

moderntonic.com
August 8, 2011
IT’S ALL ABOUT VICKY TIEL
'She’s dressed everyone from Goldie Hawn to Halle Berry to Kim Kardashian. She’s bedded everyone from Elvis Presley to Marlon Brando to Warren Beatty. She inspired Breakfast at Tiffany’s, designed a bikini for Brigitte Bardot, and had Elizabeth Taylor for a business partner….”

thegloss.com
August 15, 2011
'Rabbits, Rivers, and Wrap Dresses: 5 Life Lessons from Designer Vicky Tiel,' Lilit Marcus
“Although I hadn’t heard of designer Vicky Tiel before picking up her memoir It’s All About the Dress (which comes out tomorrow), I can now say with certainty that she is a total badass.”

Publishers Weekly
June 6, 2011
It’s All About the Dress: What I Learned in 40 Years About Men, Women, Sex, and Fashion
The original purveyor of the miniskirt and Elizabeth Taylor’s caftan unravels fabulous, chatty tales of her early success in the 1960s as a young American fashion designer in Paris. A student of Parsons School of Design in Manhattan, Tiel became known around Greenwich Village as Peaches LaTour for her original, thrift-store, bohemian look (leather mini, lace stockings, boots), creating sexy looks that delighted her boyfriends but shocked the establishment. Along with a well-connected schoolmate, Mia Fonssagrives (stepdaughter of Irving Penn), Tiel aimed to take Paris by storm, and they did, within a few months of arriving in 1963, with the help of former top model Dorian Leigh (aka Holly Golightly) and fashion designer Louis Féraud. From doing the costumes for movies like What’s New, Pussycat? (“Ursula Andress taught me the power of a dress”) to dressing Elizabeth Taylor for more than 20 years, Tiel was the “it” girl. By turns nutty and tender, she offers priceless anecdotes about Liz and Richard, Romy Schneider and Alain Delon, Woody Allen, Warren Beatty, hippies, and dating married men.

Forget the Oscars

Baker's Dozen of McGonigle’s
Best-Liked Films of 2011


By Michael McGonigle

CTS, Audio Visual Department/Film Lecturer at the Philadelphia Museum of Art

[Special to Writers Clearinghouse News Service]

The year turned out to be a pretty good; I saw more films I liked than disliked. For me, one major reason for inclusion on this list was the surprise factor. If a film snapped my attention and made me say “Wow!”, I gave it higher marks than others. So this is my personal list of 13 favorites in alphabetical order. I also listed the ones that are currently available on DVD.

1. The Adventures Of Tin Tin

I wanted to hate this movie, but just when you are about to write Steven Spielberg off, he comes up with a gem like The Adventures Of Tin Tin. Tin Tin is a pure, fast paced, action/adventure film that follows our boy hero (played by the wonderful Jamie Bell) as he tries to solve a mystery surrounding a hidden treasure. With Simon Pegg and Nick Frost as a couple of bumbling Scotland Yard detectives, Andy Serkis as an old drunken sea captain who may hold important clues to the mystery provided he can be maintained in an alcoholic fog and the big surprise, Daniel Craig as a deliciously hammy bad guy. This was one of the big surprises for me this year.

2. Brighton Rock

rongly vilified as not being up to the caliber of the 1947 film, let alone the 1938 novel, I’m one of the few people who think this version of Graham Greene’s novel about the doomed relationship between resort waitress Rose and sociopathic crook Pinkie Brown actually benefits by being updated from England between the wars to the beginning of the Mods and Rockers era of the 1960’s. While Sam Riley is a little old to play the teenage Pinkie, he still manages to be alternately frightening and pathetic. With an excellent supporting cast including Helen Mirren, Andy Serkis, John Hurt and Andrea Riseborough as Rose who learns the bitter truth about what the saying “be careful what you wish for” really means. Available on DVD.

3. The Devil’s Double

While this film is not accurate historically, it is still a riveting, often grotesquely hilarious portrait of Sadaam Hussein’s eldest son Uday, that psychopathic nitwit with bad teeth who was so unstable, even his father was frightened of him. In proper terms, the story concerns Latif, a decent Iraqi citizen who has the unfortunate luck to be a spitting image of Uday so he is drafted into the position of being Uday’s “fedai” or body double so when the assassins eventually come, it will be Latif who gets killed and not Uday. Well, we all know how well that worked for Uday. But the major reason to see The Devil’s Double is the dual performance by Dominic Cooper as both the dull, decent Latif and the wildly carnal and excitable Uday. Dominic Cooper, a serviceable actor (My Week With Marilyn, The History Boys and Mama Mia) goes full bore as Uday obviously aiming for the Al Pacino “Chew The Scenery” Award and that is not meant to be a criticism. Cooper’s portrayal of Uday is so operatic, that no matter what level of depravity he sinks to, you can’t help but watch in open-mouthed astonishment. The Devil’s Double shows why all the smart actors would rather play a villain than a hero, it’s just too much fun. Available on DVD.

4. The Illusionist

A delightful animated treasure from the man who brought you The Triplets Of Bellville. This film was based on a screenplay by the great Jacques Tati and believe me, if you don’t like Tati, this film will leave you cold. But if you love Jacques Tati like I do, then The Illusionist is like having Jacques Tati’s Monsieur Hulot reincarnated. Telling the bittersweet tale of a once popular stage magician now unemployable by the shift of the general audience from vaudeville theaters to TV, The Illusionist runs right up to the edge of wistful sentimentality, but never becomes mawkish. The Illusionist contains the most hilarious rock band in history, a sublimely funny clown suicide sequence and the nastiest rabbit this side of Monty Python And The Holy Grail. Why people are fawning all over The Artist and ignoring The Illusionist is something I will never understand. Available on DVD.

5. Into The Abyss

A lot of the criticism against this film was based on what the film was not. Werner Herzog’s documentary looks at the fates of two men convicted for the same triple homicide, one who is about to be executed via lethal injection in a few days and the other who will be in jail for the next 40 years. The film is not a plea for fairness in court trials or verdicts. Nor is it a muckraking crime story about the pathetic robbery of a red car that cost three innocent people their lives. And while Herzog tells us in no uncertain terms that he is anti-capital punishment, Into The Abyss is not a “Michael Moore” like crusade film intended to sway an audience toward a particular viewpoint. No, Into The Abyss is much more unsettling. Both killers are interviewed while in jail and to hear them speak so calmly about their broken lives is disturbing. We also meet the family and friends of the victims and their stories are compelling too. We hear from a former Death Row prison guard who used to escort the convicts to the execution chamber and why this man is now completely against capital punishment. This is all done Herzog style with loopy questions voiced in his bland Teutonic accent, long camera takes and by leaving the camera running after a question has supposedly been answered which then reveals surprising human behavior uncluttered by narrative. The whole experience of watching Into The Abyss is like staring over the edge into a dark territory I did not want to visit, but I could not avert my eyes.

6. Kaboom

As this film started and I was immersed in a world of night time neon colors filled with androgynous boys and girls for whom sex in any combination is desired and all scored with a cool Indie/Alt soundtrack, I knew immediately I was in Gregg Araki territory. But when our lead character Smith (the excellent Thomas Becker) began to have real nightmare attacks by people in animal masks, along with weird messages on his computer that were just too realistic to be dream or drug induced, the film switched to a horror story about a dangerous religious cult bent on world destruction. I thought, wow, is Gregg Araki really going to go in this plot direction? Oh yeah, he was. And he went all the way with it; just look at the film’s title. Many people were dismayed by this change in the film’s tone, but I give Araki nothing but praise for making the gutsiest movie of the year and Kaboom becomes a further warning that people who believe in religious apocalypse should never be given access to nuclear weapons. Available on DVD.

7. The Man Who Fell To Earth

I know this film is celebrating its 40th anniversary, but it was re-released in 2011 in a new print and once again I was enraptured by the swirling imagery, convoluted plot, hypnotic music and general lunacy that is The Man Who Fell To Earth. No filmmaker today would even dare to make a film as visually overwrought as Nicholas Roeg did back in 1976 when things in the film industry were less corporate and genuine cinematic risks could be taken. David Bowie plays Thomas Jerome Newton, the technologically advanced space alien who comes to Earth with a plan to take our water back to his own drought stricken planet but in order to finance inter-planetary travel he has to interact with us Earthlings and before long, human foibles in the form of money, sadness, love, drink and jealousy rub off on him and ultimately derail his plans forever. Yes, Thomas Jerome Newton fell to Earth, only he didn’t bounce back up. With Rip Torn, Candy Clark, Bernie Casey and Buck Henry. Available on DVD.

8. Margin Call

This complex drama is everything Moneyball wasn’t. Yes, it is mostly made from scenes of people in rooms talking about abstruse numeric schemes that will “change everything” and both films are top-loaded with major actors; but the similarity ends there. Margin Call is highly cinematic, dangerous, deceiving and extremely gripping. This film has one of the most morally egregious sequences in film history when all the sales people begin selling off the firm’s toxic assets to save their company’s bottom line and to hell with the rest of the world. They justify this by invoking “Caveat Emptor”, but just because the buyer needs to beware, that does not mean you have a right to lie, cheat or otherwise misrepresent yourself in order to sell knowingly shoddy products. Kevin Spacey, Jeremy Irons, Demi Moore (remember her) and Simon Baker head the cast and are all excellent, but it is Zachary Quinto as the low level risk assessment manager who shines as a linchpin in the films plot and Stanley Tucci as the just fired Cassandra who shows how it is possible to maintain your dignity while being callously “downsized”. Mark my words, when the financial “Nuremberg” trials finally happen and the financial tycoons justifications for their immoral accounting practices turn out to be variations of the “I only did it to save the company bottom line”, those explanations will ring as hollow as the Nazis who claimed innocence because they were “only following orders”. Available on DVD.

9. Melancholia

What can I say, this film shows the end of the world in the first few minutes. However, this does not ruin the film and is a well-needed slap in the head to those people who pretentiously complain about “spoilers”. In Melancholia we know well in advance the world is doomed and so do the characters, so now we get to see how they handle it. From depression, to suicide to drunken wedding day revels, the characters of Melancholia never fail to surprise us with their anger, stubbornness and humanity. But this is a Lars von Trier film and if you are not into the story by the time the wedding sequence is off and rolling, forget about it, this film is not for you. But for those with more adventuresome tastes (and patience), Melancholia is sublime cinematic art and hilariously funny to boot. Kirsten Dunst won the Best Actress award at the 2011 Cannes Film Festival for her role in Melancholia and with a cast that includes Charlotte Gainsbourg, Kiefer Sutherland, John Hurt, Stellan Skarsgard, Jesper Christiansen, Brady Corbet, Udo Kier and the fantastic Charlotte Rampling, it’s amazing they were able to notice her among such a talented group.

10. Senna

I know nothing about Formula One racing. I have never watched a Formula One car race. I only knew about the death of race driver Ayrton Senna on May 1, 1994 because it was reported in all the papers. But Asif Kapadia’s documentary about Ayrton Senna was thoroughly gripping, full of surprises and vastly entertaining. Using only found footage and a few voice over interviews from people who knew the real Ayrton Senna, Kapadia paints a compelling picture of a young man who had an insatiable craving for speed and as natural an ability for driving as anyone can have. And let me tell you, from the sustained POV shots in Senna where you are literally behind the wheel of a car driving at 150 MPH well, let me say, race car driving is not for the faint of heart. Furthermore, Senna immersed me in the strange and fascinating world of Formula One which is filled with its own rules, customs and language and I was never once confused. That didn’t happen when I saw Avatar. Available on DVD.

11. Somewhere

Newly minted film star Johnny Marco (Stephen Dorff) has fame and money, but apparently no soul. He languishes in the Chateau Marmont Hotel when he’s not out driving his new Ferrari in wild circles in the desert or having girls up to his room to pole dance for him, with their portable poles. But when he is suddenly stuck with his eleven-year-old daughter (Elle Fanning) when his ex-wife has a breakdown, the responsibility of parenting begins to change his life. Somewhere is Sofia Coppola’s most accomplished film although its lento pace and seemingly long stretches of inaction might put off some viewers, but this inside look at the world of film celebrities is full of delicious little digs. Like the fact that Johnny Marco can’t stand the leading lady of his most recent film, yet at publicity shoots, they pretend to be good friends. Then there is the box the publicists make Johnny Marco stand on when he’s photographed with other people so he won’t look so short. But my favorite scene is where Marco has to get his face cast for some special effects on his next picture and after the effects technicians cover his head in gelatinate, they leave the room and there we are, stuck with the silent Marco for a very long time in a single shot. That took directorial guts. Available on DVD.

12. The Trip

I have been on long car trips with annoyingly chatty people who are clueless as to how annoying they are and I want to strangle them, so why did I love The Trip so much? That’s easy, the film stars Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon and was directed by Michael Winterbottom and is the come out of leftfield surprise of 2011. Steve Coogan, an excellent comic actor (Tropic Thunder, 24 Hour Party People) has been commissioned to drive around the English midlands to check out various restaurants and Bed & Breakfast Inns for a magazine story. But when his current girlfriend can’t go, he asks his actor friend Rob Brydon (Oliver Twist, Tristram Shandy) to accompany him on this week long road trip. That’s it. They drive, they eat lunch, they drive some more and then stop for the night at some quaint inn. Then they get up, have breakfast and repeat the same for several days. And all they do is talk and snipe and bitch and moan and complain and make wry observations about anything that comes into their heads and I nearly hemorrhaged from laughter. Many people disliked The Trip because it had no strong plot line, but sometimes, a plot can be an impediment. I read they are currently making a sequel where Steve and Rob drive through Italy . I can’t wait! Available on DVD.

13. Weekend

Sometimes, the most universal truths can be found in the most specific of stories. I imagine most members of the audience would think that the story of two young gay men who hook up for a one night stand, but end up spending a whole weekend together would not have any insight to offer about their own lives. But consider, most of us have experienced something like this, whether it was a gay, straight or bi hook up, we all know the feeling of being unexplainably attracted to someone else and that glorious moment when we realize the other person is attracted back. Then there is the delicate dance of finding out about the other person and the longing feeling you have that maybe, this time, this person is the “one”, but then again, maybe not. Weekend rises or falls on the charm of the two leads and Tom Cullen and Chris New are compelling fresh faces and they are both wonderful. With an insightful script by Andrew Haigh who also directed, be forewarned, Weekend has fairly graphic depictions of sex, so you have to use your own judgment about whether this is something you want to see.

Honorable Mentions:

The Adjustment Bureau, Arthur Christmas, Certified Copy, The Debt, Hugo, The Ides Of March, Le Havre, Midnight In Paris, Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol, Project Nim, Rango, Tabloid, The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn Part One, Win Win

Bakers Dozen of McGonigle’s Least-Liked Films Of 2011

When it comes to films I disliked, I generally ignore pedestrian efforts like Transformer’s I –VI, noisy super hero flicks or anything starring Adam Sandler. The movies that really annoy me are pretentious films where the distance between what the filmmaker wanted to achieve and what he/she actually did achieve is so obviously incongruent that they need to be called out on it. But please remember, this is strictly a personal list and these are my own opinions. Here are the films I liked the least in alphabetical order.

1. Another Earth

Ludicrous. And the science is completely wrong. But, even if I accept the premise that there is another Earth hovering in space as visible to us as the moon (with Earth’s albedo at 0.3 average, that’s debatable), I still can’t get past the repulsive morality of Another Earth. Since Earth II is an exact replica of our Earth (including all the people. . .huh?) and is just a short bit behind us in time, our heroine, who killed a family while driving intoxicated figures if she can go to Earth II and this time not drive drunk, and she won’t kill innocent people. Great message there. I mean, why take responsibility for your actions, suffer consequences and then make sincere amends when you can just fly to Earth II and have a do-over like a flunked mid-term. So, aside from uninteresting characters and a weak story, the only advantage I can see for the folks on Earth II is since they are behind us in time by like thirty minutes, they get to sleep later in the morning.

2. The Artist

I can’t understand the appeal of this film. The parts of the story that weren’t ripped off from Singin’ In The Rain, Sunset Blvd. and Citizen Kane are neither original or funny. I smiled once when Valentin pretended to shoot his dog and the playful pooch keeled over. But, the fifth or sixth time this happened, the joke was wearing pretty thin. I liked Jean Dujardin, but no one else stood out for me and gosh darn it, The Artist just doesn’t have the look or feel of an old silent film either, not that I am an expert. I think Mel Brooks’ 1976 silent movie parody called appropriately Silent Movie does this whole story much better and has the advantage of actually being funny. Yet, so many people I respect tell me this film is delightful, but I was bored senseless watching The Artist, or maybe I just haven’t drunk enough of the critical Kool-Aid to appreciate this one yet.

3. Biutiful

One of the films I really hated this year, yet ironically, I can’t name specific parts that annoyed me. It was the whole melancholic gestalt of Biutiful that did me in, as if great cinema comes from presenting a miserable story as miserably as you can. And this from a guy who can watch two Ingmar Bergman films back to back, along with a documentary about dolphin deaths and still finish a second helping of waffles. Biutiful should have been a 70 minute melodrama, but director Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu extended the running time to a butt numbing two and half hours; what happened to the savvy filmmaker who made Amores Perros? Of course, it’s always nice to see Javier Bardem in a movie, but he seemed as dumbfounded by the script as I was. It says something about a film when the most lighthearted moment occurs when one of the main characters accidentally gasses several dozen immigrant workers to death. Biutiful is so hopelessly bleak, they won’t show it on airplanes for fear of walkouts.

4. The Descendents

Once again, I was cruelly disappointed by a film I had high hopes for and I’m a huge fan of Alexander Payne. I could not believe that the director who made Citizen Ruth, Election, Sideways and the “14e arrondissement” short in the great omnibus film Paris, je t’aime made this uninteresting film about a marriage gone sour in sweet Hawaii. The story has George Clooney being cuckolded by a nebbishy realtor (yeah, like that would ever happen) and afterwards his wife is injured in a jet skiing accident and spends the remainder of the film in a vegetative state. She’s the lucky one. The rest of us have to trudge along as Clooney and kids try to find the man who was her last paramour. Rainer Werner Fassbinder or Douglas Sirk would have known how to handle this melodramatic story, but Alexander Payne seems tone deaf to the genre. A shame, because I really like George Clooney and I especially liked Matthew Lillard as the real estate sharpie and part-time lothario who seduced Clooney’s wife. You’d be better off just listening to the classic tune Girlfriend In A Coma by The Smiths. Unlike The Descendents, that song is both funny and ironic.

5. Drive

I have rarely seen a film go from excellent to “what the heck” as fast as Drive. After a brilliant opening sequence with Ryan Gosling driving a couple of thieves to safety by NOT running red lights or screeching tires around corners all under the watchful eyes of the police, we then move into a silly story with Gosling as a stunt car driver by day, but escape artist by night? Is this like Flashdance, you know, she’s a welder by day but an exotic pole dancer at night. Drive is almost as ridiculous. And what a waste of Ryan Gosling. One of the most intelligent, articulate and witty actors to come along in years, and he spends most of the film simply grimacing and saying little. Yes, Albert Brooks was good as the bad guy, but overall, Drive left me cold. And another thing, why use an ersatz Tangerine Dream-esque music score when the real Tangerine Dream is still around?

6. The Future

There is nothing but unrelieved tedium in this mediocre paean to remaining a petulant child despite the on-set of physical adulthood. That’s not a bad story idea; a variation of it was used quite effectively in The Tin Drum, but The Future is no Tin Drum. It is however, woozy, mushy sentiment with no bite, no perceivable style and a slow-witted pace that drags every scene out to the point of excruciation. Hey, I like films where people can stop time at will and get answers from the moon as much as anybody, but having this film narrated by an injured cat named Paw Paw on the eve of being put down is not quite in the same league as having William Holden narrate Sunset Blvd. while floating dead in a Hollywood pool. The only good spot was Hamish Linklater as Miranda July’s decent husband because he’s the only one in the film who acts even remotely like an adult when he gets angry at July for cheating on him. I did not laugh once in this supposedly droll comedy, except of course, when Paw Paw finally got euthanized. That was hilarious, which ought to tell you exactly how bad the rest of The Future was.

7. J. Edgar

Does Clint Eastwood even read the scripts for the films he directs? There is no other reason I can come up with to explain the cognitive dissonance Eastwood displays here between his film and Dustin Lance Black’s excellent screenplay. Eastwood treads very lightly about whether J. Edgar Hoover, the FBI chief honcho was a closeted homosexual or not, and that’s fine because there are so many other people around J. Edgar who are absolutely, positively, happy/gay! How else can you explain the scene where J. Edgar (Leonardo Di Caprio) explains to his BFF Clyde Tolson (Armie Hammer), how the FBI Crime Lab will eventually look. Says J. Edgar, “we’ll show the criminals that the FBI has got something they haven’t got.” “Decorating sense?” comes the perky reply from Tolson. Or the scene where J. Edgar and Tolson get into a fist fight and after a tortured bloody kiss is exchanged, with their eyes swollen with tears and their lips smeared with red, they both look like Faye Dunaway in Mommie Dearest. I’m not sure Eastwood meant for us to laugh at this film, but I sure did, out loud! So I humbly apologize to those people in the theater who were trying to take this film seriously, but really, that was a hopeless task.

8. Life In A Day

Here was a case of a film that promised much and did not deliver. Culled from home videos made by people all over the world, all filmed on July 24, 2010, this compilation film was to provide a snapshot of all that happens on planet Earth on any given day, which is quite a lot. Organized into rough chapters about birth, sleep, work, eating etc, if it weren’t for the occasional stunningly beautiful shot taken by some amateur, somewhere in the world, this film would be a guaranteed cure for insomnia. Still, the idea was ripped off from the LIFE Magazine series of coffee table books titled A Day In The Life Of . . .The USA or Canada or The Soviet Union, Africa , Hawaii etc. and this film fails because it set out to do a task that probably can’t be done. I hate to bust on people who at least TRY to do something different and worthwhile, but the end result here is a dull, plot-less, mish-mash of great images, but no narrative coherence. It’s the cinematic equivalent of thumbing through a bunch of picture postcards.

9. Martha Marcie May Marlene

A surprise hit amongst critics and the general public and I don’t know why. Just because the filmmakers looked at the difficult subject of women in cults does not mean they treated this subject with the intelligence or cinematic skill it deserved. I applaud the filmmakers for making the attempt, but it’s like throwing a broken life preserver to a drowning man; you mean well, but in fact, you have not helped the situation at all. This is simply a bad film about the subjugation of women in cults. And the cult leader Patrick, played by the very good John Hawkes is without a doubt the worst cult leader in history. He should take lessons from Charles Manson, Jim Jones or Reverend Sun Yung Moon. It seems that Patrick’s main tool for female coercion is playing his guitar, but he’s not killing them softly with his song, he’s boring them to death.

10. Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy

What a great cast; Gary Oldman, Colin Firth, Ciaran Hinds, John Hurt, Tom Hardy, Benedict Cumberbatch and Mark Strong! What a great story to be had in John Le Carre’s seminal spy thriller! Where did it all go wrong? This film is the very definition of tedious. It’s a spy thriller with no thrills. It’s a complex narrative about how George Smiley (Gary Oldman) manages to work behind the scenes to expose a Soviet mole in the upper levels of MI6, Britain ’s CIA. But even at the finale when the mole is revealed, I challenge you to explain to me how Smiley figured it out. Also the film is dull and dingy to look at, full of rainy, foggy weather as if it were illegal for the sun to shine in London before 1979. The only real surprise this film offers will be finding the odd audience member who’s still awake when the final credits roll.

11. The Tree Of Life

It pains me to include this film on my least favorite films of the year list, but for me this was my single biggest disappointment. While the center section detailing the life of young Sean Penn growing up in 1950’s Texas with his borderline abusive father played by Brad Pitt was involving, I soon began to tire of the rapid cutting and short takes. Director Terrence Malick (Days Of Heaven, The Thin Red Line) used to make films with luxuriant tracking and Steadi-Cam shots, but now he seems to have been afflicted with the same Attention Deficit Disorder that makes Michael Bay ’s films nearly unwatchable. I can’t even begin to explain the latter scenes with the adult Sean Penn walking in a wasteland and I truly don’t know how this all connects with the scenes that take place in the primordial world of dinosaurs who apparently learn how to be compassionate creatures by not eating each other. I have been told by many that I have simply missed the point of The Tree Of Life, but I have also noticed that when I ask them directly “what is the point of The Tree Of Life”, they can only stare at me blankly. I rest my case.

12. War Horse

In this film there is a horse in almost every scene and in some large scale battle scenes, many horses. Yet, try as I might I did not see one bit of horse dung anywhere. A sterling tribute to the AD’s and PA’s who kept the locations clean. However, in terms of story, you won’t find a film as full of horse s**t as this sanctimonious, manipulative and over sentimentalized film. That’s a tribute to director Steven Spielberg who has never seen a pious cliché that he didn’t want to beat an audience over the head with. It’s not enough that Joey the Horse has to plow a rocky field, it has to be the rockiest (and most geologically suspect) field in all of England . . .and he has to do it in the rain! Still, when it comes to directorial talent, Steven Spielberg is not an Emperor with no clothes, The Adventures Of Tin Tin proves that, the real question is why he continues to let his inner child consistently over rule his adult smarts.

13. The Way Back

Before seeing this film, it was pure dumb luck that I had just finished reading Anne Applebaum’s Gulag, A History (Gulag is a Russian acronym for Glavnoye upravlyeniye lagyeryey, or Administration of Corrective Labor Camps). Because after reading about the real horrors of these camps, seeing them turned into Hollywood action film tropes seemed almost disrespectful in a way. It’s amazing how knowing the truth about a subject can ruin a fictional portrayal of it. Inspired by a “true” escape story (of dubious verity), the excellent director Peter Weir (Picnic At Hanging Rock, Witness, The Truman Show) errs by trying to include every kind of misery the Gulags offered and in doing so, he waters down the whole horrible experience. And the group that tries to escape from this Siberian camp ends up comprised of the same clichéd characters you would find in an old WWII movie. So, with a cast as varied as Ed Harris, Jim Sturgess, Saoirse Ronan, Colin Farrell and Mark Strong, it’s a shame the film is such a long drawn out affair and by the end of the movie, I felt like I too had been in a Gulag for 20 years. Once again, good intentions do not a good film make.

Dishonorable Mentions:

Blackthorn, Incendies, Jane Eyre, Kill The Irishman, Moneyball, Shame, Third Star, Twelve Thirty, Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives, Young Goethe In Love