The Second Mrs. Tanqueray (Play)

     Arthur Wing Pinero The Second Mrs. Tanqueray (1894) One of the plays in Sixteen Famous British Plays (Modern Library 1942). These are all full-length scripts, so I will review them individually. I’ve been reading them since August.
     All these plays were in their time box-office hits. Reading them one is struck by the datedness of the style, characterisation, and structure. This play is no exception. It’s a social melodrama, a soap opera in other words, and a very dated one. Mrs. Tanqueray has a past which catches up with her: she has been the mistress of one of her husband’s old friends. Just as she has made friends with her husband’s daughter (a moral snob), the old friend shows up. She kills herself because she can’t bear the shame of it all. I suppose the play was considered daring in its time. It’s pseudo-Ibsen. It has its moments, but to me it seems overwrought and artificial. It appears to be intended as a tragedy, but at best it merely achieves pathos.
     Why can’t we believe in these stories nowadays? Perhaps because even in their own time they were unbelievable. Their content and form are social parables (which all melodramas are, according to Davies), and weren’t intended to be taken literally. Yet the style is naturalistic, and the tone is Ibsenist. The play doesn’t really know its own genre, in a way. That it would work as theatre is plain. but since it’s dated, it would be hard to do well now. Interesting as a period piece, its values seem not merely quaint but oppressive to us, so it might have interest precisely because it’s so dated. But most theatre goers would be offended, I think, by the smugness of the male characters. *1/2 (2000)

The Hospital (Movie)

     The Hospital (1971) [D: Arthur Hiller. George C. Scott. Diana Rigg] Dr Bock (Scott), chief of staff, feels suicidal because he thinks he’s accomplished nothing worthwhile. His marriage had ended, his children are petty crooks, the hospital he works for is a shambles. Just how much of a shambles becomes apparent when a series of murders occur, all of them the result of the murderer’s taking advantage of the chaos and sloppiness and poor management. Barbara Drummond (Rigg), the daughter of a comatose patient, wants to take her father home to Mexico, and a group of community activists wants to stop hospital expansion. Bock and Drummond have an affair; her father, whose brain has been fried by the semi-competent treatment, turns out to be the murderer; and Bock turns down the opportunity to go to Mexico with Drummond, because, as he says, "Someone has to be responsible." But he does help her get her father away from the scene of his last murder, and on the way to Mexico. I suppose this evasion of justice is what makes this a "black comedy", as IMDbF terms it.
     Doesn’t sound like much of a movie, and it isn’t, but it has an odd retro charm. It’s very 70s in its tone, plotting, acting, and editing. Paddy Chayefsky, who wrote and co-produced, received one of his three Oscars for the script, which is certainly well-constructed. But a well-constructed script doesn’t necessarily give us characters real-seeming enough to engage us beyond the plot. Didn’t do it for me, anyhow.
     My main interest in the movie was to see how Chayefsky resolved the various twists and tangles he invented. The resolution, Bock’s surfacing from his deep funk and taking control of his life (and the hospital), seems to be contrived. Marie said the movie wasn’t very Hollywood, by which she meant that it didn’t have the happy superficiality we nowadays expect from Hollywood (when we don’t expect gory horror, that is). But the ending is pure Hollywood I think: only a Hollywood movie would show a character enjoying such an easy cure for depression. **½

Dear Life (Book)

     Alice Munro Dear Life (2012) The latest, and I suspect the last, of Munro’s story collections. She demonstrates the same ruthless powers of observation as in her other books, and the same ability to show us the moment of revelation, of self-discovery, of the momentous decision. But the decisions that change the course of a life are never known as such. In Munro’s world, as in real life, people choose what seems to them a minor expedience. Its effects redirect a the course of a life, but that’s not seen for months or even years, when a chance glimpse of the past overlays the present with unrealised and unrealisable possibilities.
     Munro shows us the bones of a life, the topography of desire and need and fear and pleasure that underlies the roads and fields and woodlands of the everyday busyness and chores that we believe is the defining landscape of our lives. But this power of seeing below the surface is not enough to make art. Munro’s style wastes no words. In a few words, a single phrase, she can show us the essential detail, the unexpected insight that tilts the world into focus, the one remark that clarifies forever the relationship between two people who would otherwise never know what roles they play in each other’s lives, that one memory that shows what could have been. Her stories are not only life-like, but like life.
      Reading Munro stories, we are able to imagine our own lives as random patterns of our own and other people’s choices. She suffuses that randomness with significance. Not meaning or purpose, for meaning and purpose imply predictability and planning and successful progress towards a goal. In a random universe prediction is impossible. But we may explain the random sequence. Munro explains how a life’s pattern came to be, and leaves the why unanswered and unanswerable. Munro has the skill to leave us satisfied with the how. She leaves us accepting that the how is all we’ll ever know, and that it’s enough. ****

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (movie)

     The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (2012) [D: Peter Jackson. Ian McKellem, Martin Freeman, etc] The Hobbit interpreted as an action flick. Quite entertaining, but not satisfying. Yes, the story is a fantasy, so we need special effects. And yes, there are battles and such in the book, but they don’t go on and on and on the way they do here. After a while the fighting is quite boring. I kept myself amused by picking out allusions and references to other fantasy quests, such as Star Wars.
     It’s a pity the special effects and battles take up so much space and directorial energy, because the effect of culture clashes on the interplay of the characters, the way the characters grow as they journey, the reminders of the ancient grudges that propel and complicate the plot, all these are quite good as far as they go. But the relentless focus on "action" doesn’t leave much room for or attention to these things. Action isn’t bashing other people over the head with magic swords, it’s the decisions that a character must make in the face of competing interests, inadequate data, and conflicting motives. The motivations of the villains could have been explored too: why are the Orcs such savage enemies of dwarves and men and hobbits, for example? Is Saluman already corrupted by Sauron? Why do the elves decide to assist the dwarves? Their alliance has always been one of convenience. They have little in common besides enemies. I think that Jackson has simplified Tolkien’s vision to mere diagrams. Evil is more complex than shown in this movie.
     Of course, anyone who has read the books, and/or seen at least the first part of The Lord of the Rings can follow the story well enough. Several of the actors reprise the characters they portrayed in the film trilogy. The universe of the stories is well imagined and realised. The telling of the tale proceeds briskly enough, the only longeurs are those comic-book fights. The filming angles and special effects betray adaptation to 3D, which in my opinion is unnecessary. But if you go see it prepared to suspend disbelief, you’ll spend an entertaining three hours. **½

Noel Coward: The Complete Short Stories (1985)

     Noel Coward The Complete Short Stories (1985) Coward was a very clever writer. All of these stories are worth reading, but few stick in the memory or move the heart. I think he constructed stories rather than told them. Several are more or less gloomy shaggy dog stories: "The Wooden Madonna" tells how a self-satisfied young playwright patronises an ordinary bloke Englishman and becomes the unwitting mule for diamond smugglers. Others show a rather too neat resolution of the plot: In "Nature Study" the dissatisfied wife of a stuffed shirt type runs off with the chauffeur. Coward has a sharp eye for folly, smugness, complacency, hypocrisy, and worse vices. But he also has a soft spot for people who are just trying to get by as best they can, held back from worldly success by kindness and decency.

       He knows the theatre, and several of his best pieces are set in that milieu. The characters in these stories have the ring of truth: I wonder if someone who knew Coward and his career intimately would recognise their prototypes. In the best story, "Me and the Girls", the narrator recounts his life as a small-time manager/producer who wanders the show circuit with a troupe of girls who perform in shows devised to make the most of their small talents in singing, dancing, and sketch comedy. He’s a man who has made the best of his few chances at love and affection; now he’s dying, and we realise that his tawdry and messy life has been marked by courage and kindness. Not a bad legacy for anyone. I saw video versions of this and "Mrs. Capper’s Birthday", and enjoyed them both.
     Nor are these stories a bad legacy for Coward. They are skilfully made, and they consistently make heroes of those who practice the ordinary virtues of kindness and decency. You may guess from this that the tone is often rather sad and occasionally world-weary. You would be right. His short stories amount to novels in miniature. Like other short story writers, Coward can suggest a whole life in a few incidents. I enjoyed reading these stories, even the early ones where the mechanics of the plot were a little too obvious. ** to ***

Lost in Austen (Mini-series)

Lost in Austen (2008) [Written by Guy Andrews. Amanda Rooper, Elliot Cowan, Hugh Bonneville]
     Amanda Price, fan of Pride & Prejudice enters the fictional world through a door in her bathroom, exchanging places with Elizabeth Bennett. Plot summary of the series here.
  Question is, does this pastiche work? I think so. Andrews has rewritten Austen’s romance as a novel: the characters are more complex, they have back-stories, they react rather more like real people than genre characters. There is a consistent theme: all these people are playing parts assigned to them by social constraints and rules. Amanda upsets this, primarily by insisting that the characters behave as prescribed in Austen’s novel. But she too is trying to play a part: the observer. But she’s actually a participant, and in her unwillingness to accept this messes things up, but good. People seek her advice, which she frames in terms of Austen’s book, not in terms of character and personality. “Destiny” is her buzzword, but she’s blind to the changes in destiny created by her entry into a fictional world. (Or is it fictional? Andrews leaves that question hanging.)
     Almost all the characters reveal their true selves at different times. Caroline Bingley admits she is a lesbian, but will endure marriage for propriety’s sake. Lady Catherine reveals herself as conforming to rules and roles prescribed by her status; but she knows that Amanda is not what she seems, and so is not bound by status. She has seen that Amanda is afraid of what she really wants; and her last remark to Amanda is she wishes Amanda were her daughter. Wickham acts the cad but is really a deeply honourable man: he’d rather be hated by Darcy than betray Georgiana’s adolescent crush. Bingley eventually acts on the love he really feels for Jane instead of following Darcy’s advice to preserve his social status.
     Mrs Bennett finally revolts against the socially submissive role her status assigns, and instead of kowtowing to Lady Catherine, throws her out of the house. This reminds Mr Bennett that she is his wife, and his admiration for her long-suppressed spunk, as well as the realisation that he has dodged his duties as husband and father, move him to offer to sleep in the marital bed again, an offer that Mrs Bennett is delighted to accept. And of course Darcy will follow his heart rather than his social pride, and Amanda will accept her destiny.
     We spent four pleasant evenings watching this series on TVO. It is not the best Austen pastiche I’ve come across, but it’s still well above average. ***

Past Perfect (Movie)

     Past Perfect (2002) [D: Daniel McIvor. Rebecca Jenkins, Daniel McIvor] A story cross cutting between Charlotte and Cecil’s first encounter on a plane and a day two years later after a miscarriage. Both had broken up with previous partners because they wanted children, so the loss of the child cuts deep. The question is, will they be able to salvage their relationship. The contrast between the trust and joy of the first meeting and the distrust and pain of the present sets up the plot. Will they or won’t they reconcile? Or rather, because this after all a romance, How will they reconcile?
     The movie is told in a series of chapters, with a number of tricks that almost work. The close ups of the faces in the plane work best; the voice-overs accompanying the image of an empty bench in a park don’t. In between are a mishmash of scenes of varying tension. The director (who is also the writer and the male lead) is much given to extended shots, which are clearly intended to express the depth and complexity of the emotional turmoil within the characters. Unfortunately, the result too often is “OK, I get it, now what?”
     This could have been an excellent movie. The actors have talent, the camera work is good, but the direction and editing fail to live up to the promise of the concept. I think the script could have used a few scenes tracing the shock of the miscarriage and its corrosive effect on trust. At first, Charlotte and Cecil must have tried to comfort each other; when did that change? Why? A scene between Cecil and his ex, Bernadette, gives a few hints. Charlotte and Cecil’s difference in cultural and educational background are another clue: Did Cecil try to be Pygmalion to Charlotte’s Galatea?
     In short, a more complex, richer script would have forced faster editing and more careful cross-cutting, both of which would have allowed for a more complex rhythm of tension and release than a mere two story strands do. **

The Meaning of Everything (book)

     Simon Winchester The Meaning of Everything (2003) The story of the making of the Oxford English Dictionary. It’s amazing the thing was done. Nowadays, it would either not have been funded, or it would have cancelled at the first sign of exceeding its budget. It took 70 years and at least £350,000. James Murray, who oversaw the project through most if his and its life, did an enormous amount of the work: at first, all definitions went to him before going to the printer. Later, Bradley joined him, and the work progressed faster.
When it was done in 1928, the Oxford University Press took a good deal of the credit. The Dictionary has become an ongoing project, the computer has made production easier, and it’s likely that there won’t be any more new paper editions. A pity, since I really like my 2-volume compact edition. The OED website offers the 20-volume 2nd edition of 1998, but I didn’t check the price.
     This history’s main strength is its brevity. Winchester knows how to write the general narrative with enough detail to provide a sense of what it was like to be part of the task. The photos are poorly reproduced, unfortunately. High-resolution scans were available in 2003, so there’s no excuse. Otherwise well done. ***

British Model Railway magazines

Miscellaneous British model railway magazines (1970s to present) I’ve been clipping and tossing these. In decided to keep Model Railways and Model Railway Journal, but all the others will be gone.
     There are some common features: an irritating absence of detail drawings and methods in construction articles. More recently, step by step photos and instructions are showing up, and are very well done. Most magazines feature very good outline drawings of locomotives, rolling stock, and structures, along with excellent photographs and thorough historical and technical data. The product  reviews are generally OK. A couple of magazines regularly give necessary wheel dimensions and/or comparisons with prototype measurements. They tend to be more laudatory and “grateful to the trade” than US reviews; some read more like press releases than reviews.
     Layout photos are generally superb and very inspirational, showing a very high quality of modelling. I am especially impressed with the modelling of landscape and structures. In townscape modelling, North American modellers are far behind British ones. The texts on the other hand are pretty much the same format: a brief history of the prototype (imaginary or real), vague narratives of construction, and stock lists. The layouts themselves tend to be much of a muchness, with the same visual themes regardless of  prototype. One observes a trend towards more accurate prototype modelling, a trend repeated in North America some 10 years later. This trend does not improve the variety, however. It seems to me that the days of free-lance modelling will return. Some of the most interesting layouts ever have been pure fantasy (Allen’s Gorre and Daphetid) or prototype inspired (McClelland’s V & O or Koester’s Midland Road.) Frank Ellison’s observation that model railroading is like playwriting and production still holds. In other words, model railroading is both a narrative and a visual art. As with drama, interpretation of reality and pure invention work better than exact imitation of nature.
     The useful British habit of using fiddle yards (termed storage sidings in earlier times) has been taken up here, with a change in terminology: we call them staging yards or staging for short. Some modellers (e.g. Dave Barrow) have argued that staging should be out in the open, and scenicked. Barrow claims the advantages of avoiding the problems of any hidden trackage (i.e., what’s not a problem in the open becomes one on hidden track), and easier visualisation of the operating scheme. If his p.o.v. catches on, we will have come full circle to the early days of layout planning: division point plus a stretch of mainline and/or branch. Plus ça change!
All in all, I spent a pleasant if somewhat exhausting time reviewing these old magazines. They varied in quality from acceptable to excellent. (2000)

Flesh and Gold

Phyllis Gotlieb Flesh and Gold (1998) I didn’t finish this book. The premise is interesting, involving many beings co-operating more or less in a future interstellar federation of sorts. Humans (Solthrees) have been bioengineered to adapt to different planetary habitats. Interstellar commerce profits only when the trade-ware is people, many of which are conveniently labelled as animals. Bribery and other forms of corruption abound. But the book holds only intellectual interest for me; it does not engage my empathy or sympathy for the characters. It is a clever book, a merely clever book. I can’t quite put my finger on what’s lacking, really. I think it is the language: Gotlieb writes competently, but she hasn’t the knack of making a place become vividly present, such as Heinlein and Kipling have. Those writers could make the most alien landscape and lifestyle seem familiar within a page or two. Gotlieb can’t do that, so although the alien setting is an interesting one, and she has done a lot of work to make it plausible, it is not believable. ** (2000)