A Book A Week

Author Percival Everett has built a career on writing sharp, satirical novels that delve into the complexities of race and identity without taking himself too seriously. His 2021 novel Trees, for instance, combines a gripping murder mystery with America’s tragic history of lynchings, all while finding humor in the absurdity of racism. More recently, he reimagined Mark Twain's classic Huck Finn story, giving agency to the enslaved side character James and retelling the narrative from his perspective. This approach isn't new for Everett; his 2001 novel Erasure showcases his longstanding commitment to these themes. Erasure has gained renewed attention with its adaptation into the Best Picture-nominated film American Fiction. The movie brings that story to life in a way that perfectly captures the tone of Evertt's brilliant writing. 

Thelonious "Monk" Ellison, played by Jeffery Wright, has carved out a respectable career as an author and writing professor in LA. Unfortunately, his novels, acclaimed by literary critics for their philosophical depth and references to Greek mythology, don't translate to commercial success. Monk's latest manuscript is repeatedly rejected, with the troubling feedback that his writing isn’t "Black enough."

Monk grapples with this criticism. How can an African American man write something that isn’t "Black enough?" It’s only when he attends a writing conference that he understands what the publishers mean. In stark contrast to his poorly attended panel, author Sintara Golden's interview about her bestseller We Lives in Da Ghetto is packed, with readers eagerly absorbing every word of her stereotypical narrative. Faced with his elderly mother's declining health and his own lack of sales, Monk pens My Pafology, a satirical novel mocking the clichés expected from Black writers—melodramatic plots, deadbeat dads, gang violence, and drugs. To his astonishment, the book sparks a bidding war. Now, Monk is torn between staying true to his professional principles or selling out to achieve the success he has always dreamed of.

Making his feature directorial debut, Cord Jefferson masterfully adapts Everett's novel, bringing the story to life with a blend of timeliness and emotional depth. The ensemble cast delivers authentic performances that draw viewers into the larger themes of the narrative, such as racism, classism, and the personal consequences of not staying true to oneself. The film balances humor and conflict with a few tear-jerking moments along the way. Its clever and unique conclusion is one of the most memorable endings I've seen in a long time. Overall, American Fiction entertains while subtly engaging your deeper thoughts, compelling you to confront the significant themes the characters navigate.

Actor and director Kenneth Branagh has reinvigorated the murder mystery genre with his acclaimed portrayal of Agatha Christie's renowned character, Hercule Poirot. His 2017 adaptation of Murder on the Orient Express offered a fresh perspective on Christie's most infamous tale, and the 2022 sequel, based on Death on the Nile, continued the success. It's no surprise that a third film in the Poirot series has been expedited. After recently reading the book Hallowe'en Party, the inspiration for the newest film, I was eager to see how Branagh would approach this story, which is notably less cinematic in nature.

Essentially, A Haunting in Venice can be viewed more as a movie "inspired by" Christie's writing than a faithful adaptation. The film retains little more than character names and a supernatural element from the novel it claims to be based on. Surprisingly, these liberties don't cause much concern, especially considering that Hallowe'en Party is a rather ordinary entry in Christie's repertoire. As one of her final works featuring her beloved protagonist, it fell short compared to some of her more celebrated pieces. Instead, Branagh and his team opt to place the film in the mysterious setting of Venice, a city that inherently lends itself to the grandeur and marvel suitable for the cinematic experience.

At the film's outset, Hercule Poirot, portrayed by the director Kenneth Branagh, relishes a tranquil retirement, channeling his sharp mind into pursuing the perfect breakfast eggs rather than solving murder mysteries. Despite persistent requests from those seeking his investigative prowess, he remains uninterested. The serenity of a quiet life suits him well. This changes, however, when he agrees to meet with Ariadne Oliver, an old friend and crime novelist played by the always-charming Tina Fey. Although no stranger to unraveling deceptions, she is confounded by Joyce Reynolds (Michelle Yeoh), a World War I army nurse turned medium. Motivated by curiosity or perhaps sheer pride, Poirot consents to attend a Halloween party and séance at the palazzo of the renowned opera singer Rowena Drake. What initially begins as an attempt to expose a charlatan swiftly transforms into a night of darkness and death. Once again, Poirot must deploy his intellect and deduction to unveil the identity of a ruthless killer before becoming their next victim.

A Haunting in Venice marks a significant departure from both its predecessors and the source material. While it differs significantly, the change proves beneficial. The music takes on a more subdued tone, and the cinematography adopts an angled and choppy approach, a departure from the sweeping visuals seen in other films. Introducing a potentially supernatural element adds a layer of dread and suspense, contributing to a unique atmosphere that works exceptionally well.  The film sustains a tension akin to razor wire throughout, making every moment count. The ensemble cast delivers performances filled with vigor, eliciting both support and suspicion from the audience. Despite its variance from the book, the film adeptly balances horror and mystery, offering a murder story that pays homage to Agatha Christie's tradition while adapting it for contemporary audiences.

During the ongoing Spooky Season, I've been diligently making my way through a list of eerie films that I've been wanting to watch. Among them is Mr. Harrigan's Phone, a Netflix movie adapted from one of Stephen King's short stories found in If It Bleeds. The story in question was a standout piece in the collection, so I held high expectations for its cinematic adaptation. With Ryan Murphy and Jason Blum as producers and John Lee Hancock as the director, it appeared to have the ideal team of filmmakers to do justice to the story.

The movie transports us back to the early 2000s, a period when technology was on the verge of reshaping the world as we knew it. Jaeden Martell, acclaimed for his role in another Stephen King adaptation, It, portrays the young Craig. In the film, Craig is still mourning the loss of his mother and doing his best to console his equally grieving father. Demonstrating remarkable dedication, he regularly reads at church services, where his performance captures the interest of another churchgoer, Mr. Harrigan. Portrayed by the formidable Donald Sutherland, Harrigan is a reclusive billionaire who becomes fascinated by Craig's reading skills. He hires the boy to come to his mansion each week and read classic novels to him. To express his gratitude, Harrigan occasionally surprises the boy with a scratch-off lottery ticket.

This routine continues for several years, with Craig advancing into high school. He has faced difficulties in making friends in his new environment and has unwittingly become the target of a bully. Seeking guidance on how to deal with his adversaries, Craig poses the question to Harrigan. In response, Harrigan ominously utters, "harshly."

Craig's life turns unexpectedly when he scratches off his latest lottery ticket, revealing a substantial prize of a few thousand dollars. Thrilled by his newfound wealth, he purchases two brand-new iPhones, one for himself and the other for Mr. Harrigan. Initially hesitant about the technology, Harrigan gradually recognizes its value in having real-time information at his fingertips. He becomes captivated by the device, diverting his attention away from the books Craig continues to read.

Then, one fateful day, upon arriving for their customary reading session, Craig discovers the lifeless body of Mr. Harrigan in the same chair where he always sat. Overwhelmed by shock and sorrow, he keeps Harrigan's iPhone as a lasting memento of their time together. During Harrigan's funeral, Craig discreetly places the phone in the casket alongside him.

Several days later, grappling with an intense sense of loss and yearning for his mentor and friend, Craig calls Harrigan's phone. As anticipated, the call is directed to voicemail. Yet, when he attempts texting, he is astonished to receive a response. Soon, Craig finds himself confiding his deepest thoughts to the deceased man. More disconcertingly, a series of mysterious events begin to unfold.

Stephen King's short story operates as a pertinent parable on the hazards of technology. In characteristic King style, he underscores this moral with hints of horror to drive his message home. The film adaptation explores comparable themes, but the necessity to elongate the brief tale into a full-length feature movie dilutes the narrative with extraneous elements. Martell and Sutherland's performances brim with sincerity and manage to capture the essence of the written characters. However, even their acting prowess cannot rescue the film from succumbing to its own excess. The story attempts to stretch both the coming-of-age facet and the supernatural elements in a manner that never effectively integrates them. Neither aspect is fully developed to its utmost potential. Instead, the result is a narrative that shares the same foundational elements as the source material but ultimately falls short of replicating the impact of the original text.

Representation matters. The presence of diverse and relatable characters in literature and media plays a crucial role in enabling individuals to embrace and accept their true selves. Casey McQuiston's debut novel, Red, White, & Royal Blue, achieved bestselling status, in part due to its significant representation within the LGBTQ+ community. When I initially read the book in 2019, I celebrated its diverse ensemble, the queer love story it portrayed, and its profound impact as a form of representation for LGBTQ+ individuals. When news broke that Amazon had acquired the rights to adapt this beloved story into a film, I greeted the news with a blend of optimism and caution. Could the filmmakers capture the book's magic and do justice to its representation?

The film faithfully adheres to the core plot of the novel. Alex Claremont-Diaz, portrayed by Taylor Zakhar Perez, holds the esteemed position of First Son in the United States. His mother, performed by a Texas-drawled Uma Thurman, is the first woman to occupy the highest office in the nation. The narrative begins with Alex's intense rivalry with Prince Henry, played by Nicholas Galitzine, the younger member of the British royal family. Their disruptive behavior at the wedding of the Prince's elder brother, who is also the future king, threatens to spark a major international incident. They are compelled to fabricate a close friendship and embark on a goodwill visit to the United Kingdom to avert this crisis.

As the two navigate the complexities of this fabricated friendship, their rivalry gradually transforms into a genuine and profound connection, eventually blossoming into a romantic relationship. However, their path is fraught with challenges, especially the imperative to conceal their love amidst the relentless public scrutiny accompanying their high-profile lives. Royal traditions bind Henry, and Alex strives to uphold a carefully cultivated image during his mother's contentious re-election campaign. As their love for each other deepens, they must continue to work diligently to keep it hidden from the public eye.

The film adaptation of Red, White, & Royal Blue is about as good as one might expect from a straight-to-streaming adaptation. While the novel's core plot remains intact, the storyline has noticeable omissions. Some characters are condensed into one, and certain changes alter the story's impact compared to the book. This is understandable, given the time constraints of the film medium, but it does make the narrative feel forced compared to the original. The film includes some wide shots where the actors are clearly in front of green screens, and the backgrounds are obviously computer-generated landscapes. While this choice didn't significantly affect the movie, it gave it a simpler aesthetic reminiscent of productions you might find on the Disney Channel. Each time this occurred, I wished the shots had simply been omitted. 

The film excels in portraying the chemistry and charisma of the two lead actors. The spark between Alex and Henry, present in the book, is brought to life authentically and keeps viewers invested in the film. The supporting cast also delivers fantastic performances, fully committing to their roles. While it may not be the best movie of the year, it effectively represents the themes that resonated with many readers of the novel. Ultimately, this representation strikes a chord with audiences, and the film will likely have a similar impact.

Earlier this year, I read The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins as part of a book club. I loved the way Hawkins blurred the lines of her thriller by using an unreliable narrator and shifting around the chronology of the story. When I heard that Hollywood was planning a film adaptation of the novel, I was a bit apprehensive. The way that the story is presented seemed uniquely suited for the pages of a book. Still, I entered the theater with some optimism, especially as the trailers seemed to capture the dark tone of the novel.

In the film, Emily Blunt plays Rachel Watson, a woman who has turned to alcohol as her life collapses around her. Each morning, she rides the train to and from work and passes the neighborhood where she and her ex husband used to live. As the train stops at the local station, she has a clear view into the house that her ex now shares with the woman who ended their marriage.

Rachel does her best to ignore the remnants of that former life. Instead, she focusses on the young couple who lives a few houses down the street. Her voyeuristic curiosity allows her to escape from the unfortunate reality that her life has become. But her fantasy come crashing down when she notices the wife in an embrace with another man. The next morning finds Rachel bruised and unable to remember the events of the night before. She awakens to news that a local woman has gone missing. As the picture of the woman permeates the media there is no denying the woman's identity. It is the same woman who Rachel has studied each day on the train. With no recollection of the previous evening, Rachel fears for the worst. What has she done?!

The Girl on the Train turns out to be a surprisingly faithful adaptation of Hawkins's novel. Director Tate Taylor, who is no stranger to book adaptations after his smash debut The Help, smartly maintains the shifting timeline of the novel. This helps to add intensity and suspense to an otherwise straightforward story. Like the book, the movie is much more a character study of a woman who has lost control of her life. Emily Blunt gives a career defining performance as Rachel, allowing us to connect and even sympathize with her deeply flawed protagonist. The supporting cast of seasoned Hollywood role players all perform admirably in their parts, and Allison Janney in particular shines as a detective who is skeptical of Rachel's testimony. Just like the novel, I felt the movie tipped its hat a bit too early, causing the last act to lack the intensity that the buildup promised. Still, The Girl on the Train is a solid adaptation with a star-affirming performance by Emily Blunt that should please both fans of the novel and casual moviegoers.

Since Jon Stewart vacated his post as longtime host of The Daily Show earlier this year, the internet has been rampant with articles speculating the famed comedian's next career move. Regardless of your political affiliations, it is safe to say that Stewart's presence is missed amongst the varying voices in the American political discourse. While only Stewart knows for sure what his next move will be, his directorial and screenwriting debut Rosewater may offer one plausible explanation.

The film chronicles the story of Iranian-Canadian journalist Maziar Bahari as he is imprisoned in Iran for his coverage of the country's presidential election. The 2009 election resulted in outrage as reigning president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad won a landslide victory over his independent reformist challenger Mir-Hossein Mousavi. Domestic protests soon erupted as many citizens felt that the election results were fraudulent. The government swiftly went into action, banning any media, public demonstrations, or other forms of resistance from being proclaimed.

Maziar Bahari was covering these protests when he witnessed government violence against the peaceful demonstrators. Despite being warned by local contacts against filming any government reactions, Bahari's journalistic instincts moved him to capture the outrageous event. As it did with so many other reporters, the Iranian government soon intervened and imprisoned Bahari. For 115 days, the journalist endured merciless interrogations for simply reporting on the truth.

Jon Stewart trades in his comedic sensibilities for this bare-knuckle look at journalistic injustice. Based upon Bahari's own book about his experiences during his incarceration, Rosewater paints a bleak picture of Iran's treatment of visiting journalists and its corrupt political system. Bahari's story shows the lengths that the country was willing to go to in order to maintain the propaganda of a compassionate and beloved leader. From a political standpoint, Stewart does an excellent job in creating outrage at Bahari's unjustified treatment. Unfortunately, brief glimpses at Bahari's pregnant wife who is waiting desperately for her husband to return to their London home, do little to humanize the situation. This denies the film of ever truly connecting on an emotional level. It ends up coming off as a well-informed but slightly cold news feature. Still, Stewart's penchant for revealing political commentary is well served in this medium and makes Rosewater an important achievement in what hopefully becomes a fruitful filmmaking career.

A review of a book to film adaptation.

Based upon the bestselling autobiography, American Sniper chronicles the life and incredible career of the deadliest sniper in American history, Chris Kyle. The film begins with young Chris's father teaching him how to hunt. From that early age, Chris is taught to respect the weapon and to always look out for others in need. An early flashback shows young Chris putting these lessons into practice. He intervenes in a fight between his brother and a bully, earning punishment from the school, respect from his father, and sealing the hero complex that would shape the rest of his life. 

After witnessing the 9/l1 terrorist attacks via his television, Chris, now an adult, immediately enlists in the Navy and begins training to become one of the branch's elite warriors. As a member of the Navy Seals, he is summoned to the field as a sniper. Kyle's mission is to cover areas as other branches of the military complete ground operations. As the film progresses, we witness Chris excelling at his job, racking up a kill rate that earns him the nickname "Legend". 

Director Clint Eastwood does a nice job of mixing the tense action sequences with personal glimpses into Kyle's psyche, especially when he returns home. Bradley Cooper as Chris, and Sienna Miller as his wife show us the raw emotional toll that war takes on both their individual emotions as well as their marriage. In hindsight, a few of the stateside scenes may be overtly cliche, but in the context of the film and the many intense war scenes, these moments are necessary in creating a balanced view of the war. 

Since it's release, there has been much debate about this film. Having read the book upon which this movie is based, I can attest that real life Chris Kyle was much more matter of fact about his actions than Cooper's film version. In the book, Kyle does not seem to be conflicted by the amount of people he kills. It is impossible, of course, to know what was really going on inside the man's head, and I feel that I have no right to comment on his actions. It is worth noting, however, that the film humanizes Kyle in a way that never really happens in the book. As such, the emotional payoff of the movie is extremely high as the credits roll. In the end, the biggest take away from both the book and movie seems to be that war is a big, ugly, complicated mess. Regardless of our individual political or even moral views, our country has asked men and women to leave the comforts of their lives to protect the comforts of our own. American Sniper, is a flawed but important reminder of the sacrifice and heroism of our military.

A review of a book to film adaptation.

Angelina Jolie follows up her directorial debut, In the Land of Blood and Honey, with Unbroken, a film adaptation of Laura Hillenbrand's account of the fascinating life of Louis Zamperini. I read the fantastic book in 2010, and was enamored with the story of the incredible Zamperini and all of his accomplishments. Jolie seemed like an odd choice to direct this serious drama, but I entered the theater prepared for the inspiring story that the book portrayed.