'Lady Bird', magic at the "wrong side of the tracks"

Lady Bird

Another high school movie about coming of age? Another “indie” film, with the hype this time arriving in her scriptwriter and debuting director, Greta Gerwig (fifth woman in history to be nominated in the latest category at the Oscars), the queen of low-budget cinema? Well, the answer is yes, if you are only interested in the surface and the headlights of things. But if you are willing to go further and allow yourself to get haunted by top-notch acting and storyline (yes, there’s still hope for screenwriting!), “Lady Bird” could be your movie. So, let me introduce you to Christine “Lady Bird” MacPherson...

Effervescent, charismatic, obstinate-to-the-point-of-rebellion and quirky (she gave a name to her by herself, to begin with) 17-year-old Christine, played majestically by Ronan Saoirse, is a teenager in the verge of becoming an adult. She is a senior student in a Catholic high school in Sacramento, California (Gerwig’s hometown), facing her last year of college and the big decisions in the making and ahead of her. She dreams of getting out of “The Midwest of California”, as she called it, aiming for higher expectations, adventures, an artistic future, savoir-vivre and social refinement. Opportunity and struggle are just behind the corner...

Because Gerwig allow us to follow Lady Bird in that last year, one that looks as crucial as well as full of experiences for our leading character: romance, a play, friendships that allow her to be part of the coolest gang of the school, while she maintains a constant battle with her mother Marion (striking performance by Laurie Metcalf, who should have won the Oscar, imo), who wants her to apply for local universities instead, settling her for more modest and less expensive goals. As I said, it looks like a simple and unsurprising development for a movie on the surface. And it’s true there won’t be any groundbreaking revelations, unexpected twists or revolutionary sci-fi scenes. But who needs them when you are rewarded with such an empathic, extremely well crafted, detailed and touchingly rounded film.

The amount of standout conversations (or discussions, or just one-liners), matchless scenes or moments that are going to captivate the viewer in ‘Lady Bird’ is plain impressive. In some sort of way (not comparing the narratives or the tone, very different) is that sort of excellency you find in Richard Yates, Carson McCullers, Anne Beattie or Raymond Carver's writing, that sort of “can't be better said/summed up/encapsulated than this”. I’m thinking on how that dress searching, with mother and daughter arguing again, is resolved. Or the one when both are sharing the bathroom and Lady Bird asks about her father’s depression. Or the first scene when his father drives her to the school (arresting Tracy Letts). Or how he is “located” in the room and how he behaves when the big fight arrives between mother and daughter explodes. I could go on and on... That sort of “screen magic”, aside from pure talent, of course, has to come from Gerwig’s knowing exactly, from the heart, what she wanted her characters to say and, what’s even more mesmerizing, being able to translate from the paper to the screen. It’s obvious this story is an extremely personal, intimate one… one that a masterful director has transformed into something universal.

The other major factor that can’t be praised enough is how Gerwig deals with what’s clearly the most important bond that’s about to be cut with Lady Bird’s leaving home: family. An imperfect, flawed, modest, all flesh and bones (so refreshing) family. Money is a real, burdening issue (how many American movies deal with that?), one that curses the despaired yet kindhearted father, torments the quibbling mother and frustrates our main character, surrounded by well-off classmates at high school, uncertain of her future because of that lack of resources. And with that comes the relationship between mother and daughter, easily among the most fascinating ever shown in a film. The mixture between intimate connection and tough love, Christine’s need of validation from her mother and Marion’s constant pressure towards her daughter looking to help her to be the “best version of herself” is just mindblowing, impossible not to get emotional as the movie conclusion approaches.

On the not so positive side, several secondary characters and plots are not that remarkable. For example, one can argue the “romantic quests” within the movie could be more developed, as Kyle (played by Timothée Chalamet) is nothing more than a caricature, and Danny (I’m seeing Lucas Hedges a lot recently, another great performance) is somewhat lost as the movie advances when her role deserved more. Same applies to the new friendship with the posher girl of her institute, although it's true allows the director to talk about class angst. Or that the head nun of the high school is “too nice” to be credible. But these underachievements are not that relevant to undermine the film. No, ‘Lady Bird’ might not be reinventing the wheel, not even reformulating the teenager coming of age story. As a matter of fact, that's her only real flaw, having the feeling of being in front of a story you have seen several times already. But to be honest, not many come to my mind as fulfilling, heartwarming, smart and moving as ‘Lady Bird’.

SCORE: 7,75/10

'Manchester by the Sea' the living dead

Manchester by the Sea

It’s been a while since a movie nearly moved to tears. But ‘Manchester by the Sea’ did. A moving, content, fiercely acted, poignant and riveting film about grief. One so real that seems to come from some place called heart, yet at the same time, it’s clear it has been carefully 'constructed', masterfully planned and scripted by director Kenneth Lonergan, like this was a lost short "gritty realism" story by Raymond Carver, Russell Banks or Richard Yates turned into a stunning motion picture.

The plot is quite simple. Gloomy janitor, antisocial plummer and obvious fucked-up young man Lee Chandler (Casey Affleck) receives the sad news of his older brother Joe (Kyle Chandler) passing away, reluctantly returning to the sailor’s town of Manchester-by-the-Sea, coastal Massachussetts, to take charge of the funeral’s arrangements as well of his nephew Patrick (Lucas Hedges). But aside from the loss of his brother, there’s a second mental blow awaiting our leading character: in his testament, Joe made him the sole guardian of Patrick, expecting him to stay with the popular-frisky teenager. An unexpected circumstance that forces Lee to confront the ghosts of his past there. The terrible reasons why he left his hometown.

‘Manchester by the Sea’ then reveals itself as an absorbing, gripping look into human pain. In one hand, we have the struggles of Lee and Patrick to adapt to the new 'environment' proposed by their brother/father, having to deal together with a tough amount of decisions and choices ahead of them. Common, mundane, relatable and somewhat manageable grief, one where routines and silly situations can even brought a smile (deadpan humour) to the spectator despite the affliction (majority of them consequence of the umm, 'lively' day-to-day 'duties' of Patrick). Life is absurd... and tends to end too quickly. But on the other hand, we have a real grasp of what 'hell on Earth' must be in Lee’s existence. An anguish that slowly reveals to the viewer in the form of flashbacks recounting his previous life within the community, his marriage with ex-wife Randi (Michelle Williams) and the cataclysmic tragedy that changed, better said condemned, Lee’s life forever.

In my opinion, what makes the movie works that well is how naturally the development of the film flows despite the dimension of the drama. That’s because Lonergan’s script is simply mind-blowing (most deserved Oscar). He’s able to handle the gravitas of the plot at two levels. There are some key, terrific, unforgettable scenes, but they are encapsulated between a vast amount of little-minor ones, where a facial expression, a small gesture, a subtle detail in a conversation going nowhere (or the lack of it) says it all. All to depict the misery of a broken human being, a person that, in order to keep going, has forced himself to be numb, permanently repressed, completely inaccessible, isolated (even punished?) by choice. And now has to adapt or fail into a new role that demands him to take responsibilities, interact with people and having strength of mind.

And that brings us to talk about acting. What Casey Affleck has done is nearly beyond words (the award was a no-brainer). What a performance for the ages! His ability to convey all the inner unrest, the agony of an impossible existence, the choking guilt, with such self-control and determination cannot be praised enough. But it wouldn’t be fair not to stress the excellent job of Luke Hedges (same can be said to their chemistry together) or the secondary but, as always, perfect performance of Michelle Williams (what a brutal, decisive scene they have) or C. J. Wilson as Joe’s best friend/boat business partner. All the characters have 'flesh and bones', their actions & behaviour gets you, and their suffering affects you. Kudos to them.

Being honest, all the complaints I can think of are so minor compared with the achievements of the movie that are almost ridiculous to point out. The unnecessary highlights of the music in several of the aforementioned crucial scenes. The dubious, not really developed, role of Patrick’s mother (played by Gretchen Mol). The "nightmare" scene, excessive imo. The kind of 'easy' economic conditions the immediate future holds up to Patrick and Lee, something that doesn’t look completely credible (being clearly a white working class story). But as I said, this sort of underachievements are almost anecdotes compared with the overall strength and honesty of the film dealing with such a sensible and difficult subject. So when you hear the 'I can't beat it', these four simple words, you completely understand and feel devastated too.

SCORE: 8,25/10

Literary World Cup: the Bloodbuzzed Team!

The mighty and referential Penguin Books have created the Penguin Cup, where indispensable authors from 16 of the world’s literary giants battle out for supremacy. A quite funny way to talk about books when everything you read, talk and see is football and more football (happily the World Cup will be over in less than a week).

It was impossible for me to resist the temptation of making my own team, here it is: the Bloodbuzzed team. I'm pretty sure it would be unbeatable!

"Trouble Will Find Me", The National's revisited

Trouble Will Find Me

Here it is, "Trouble Will Find Me", the sixth album of The National, has arrived. Maybe you’ve noticed, but they are my favourite band, now that R.E.M. called it a day. So there’s no point telling you about my expectations with the record -my warning: this review will be long-. Disk of the year or great disappointment? Extremes of a debate that doesn’t make much sense for a band that has achieved its commercial success gradually and without renouncing its identity signs, in a transition to "first division of indie" accomplished with three consecutive masterpieces, “Alligator”, “Boxer” and “High Violet” -won’t admit any discussion about it-. Identity signs that are more present than ever with this new album, combined with a feeling, confirmed by the group in several interviews, that they have created their new songs in the most relaxed atmosphere of their entire career, more secure than ever of their position as musicians. The result is a calm, self-referential record. To put it simply, no one but The National could make “Trouble Will Find Me”. It's The National's revisited.

The first example that the Ohio-Brooklyn guys are convinced of the path they have chosen, indifferent to pressures and expectations, comes at the very beginning of the record. Three years ago, “High Violet” began with the expansive, explosive “Terrible Love” -only surpassed by its abysmal live version-, one of those tunes ideal for grabbing the attention of any listener, even the lesser fans. One would expect a tune of that magnitude on a LP that should consecrate them as a mediatic band. On the other hand, “Trouble Will Find Me” opens with “I Should Live On Salt”, close to the alternative country sounds of “Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers”, and “Demons”, an ode to depression by all means, with a bleak lyric -"Oh, everyday I start so great/Then the sunlight dims [...] When I walk into a room/I do not light it up/Fuck"-. Two magnificent intimate songs where simplicity is the key, also highlighting Matt Berninger's voice, one of the pillars on which this album specially holds onto, sharp and fragile on the first, telluric and gloomy on the second.

The speed increases, without exploding, with “Don't Swallow the Cap”, the second song we discovered as an advance of the album, and the sort of tune where The National excels. The accelerated and elusive rhythm from Bryan Devendorf’s drums, like a beating heart at the moment of maximum tension, escorts the stumbled recitation of Matt while one million small nuances are taking place –among them, although measured, shines the female voice that gives him his replica, still not disclosed if it is Sharon Van Etten, St. Vincent or Nona Marie Invie of “Dark Dark Dark”- colliding in a perfect chorus.

Next comes a new twist towards more delicate and direct territory with “Fireproof”, where the Dessner brothers, armed with acoustic guitars, extend the sonic mantle on which Berninger shoots one of his most vitriolic lyrics -reference to Elliot Smith included-. I don't know if you have had the pleasure -and stomach- to read Richard Yates, but after the ill-fated New York writer, few authors are able to dissect the darker parts of relationships as our bearded frontman does. Resentment transformed into a tune.

Then it is the turn to the also well known “Sea of Love”, where the band shows his more fierce and cathartic side, with a sublime set of "question-answer" with the chorus in the final crescendo, where, in addition to making us salivate imagining how powerful can be this song live, show us an unrecognized feature in their music: the sense of humor -"what Harvard did teach you?"-. Very dark one, of course.

However, “Trouble Will Find Me” clearly leans towards slower numbers and melancholic ballads. “Heavenfaced” and “This Is the Last Time” invite the listener to introspection. But while the first may be among the least remarkable of the album, with a Berninger throwing himself into a chorus too forced, typical of other bands, the second is simply wonderful. Again propped up with acoustic guitars, the tune is elegant, desperate, rich and subtle -the entry of the strings, the female voice, the final minute, etc-. Precious.

In an album much needed of upbeat tunes that serve as a counterpoint to such stillness, “Graceless” is manna dropped from the sky, with its turbulent urge and bleak lyrics -"I took the medicine and I went missing"- which breaks in a coda that is made to be echoed live. Instant anthem. But we return to the usual tone of the record immediately. “Slipped” is a simple theme built around the piano, being its main attraction Berninger, with a lyric -"I don't any help to be breakable, believe me"- debtor of another American literature's master, John Cheever, portraying the sense of frustration of the contemporary human being in everyday stories, though Berninger does not lose his sense of humor-"I'll try to keep my skeleton in"-. Much more significant is “I Need My Girl”, with guitars drawing an ethereal and enveloping atmosphere, resulting in one of the most exciting moments of the album.

And we arrive to the final stretch of “Trouble Will Find Me”, where we find “Humiliation”, a singular song, probably the less recognizable The National has ever written. A crazy, surreal lyric -I insist, the twisted humor of Berninger comes out definitely with this album- in a piece with a special, hypnotic, floating energy, where the particular sensory state of the character described on it fits perfectly with the music, “Blue Velvet’s" coda included.

More conventional, but equally impeccable is “Pink Rabbits”, romantic and emotional with the funereal piano -death is a recurring theme on the album- and that epic end in which seems to be both hope and learning about oneself. On the other hand, the actual closing of the record comes with the more discreet “Hard to Find”, solemn and beautifully orchestrated, but inconspicuous after the previous piece.

Compared with their three previous albums, “Trouble Will Find Me” surely loses out, due to a couple of tunes that doesn’t add much and to the accumulation of slow songs on a long album. Certainly, those who seek “Alligator's” visceral mood, or the fascinating repressed turbulence of “Boxer” will be disappointed. Also those who were waiting for a collection of “Bloodbuzzed Ohio” or “Terrible Love”, definitely opening them the gates of the charts. But The National have opted to follow his own path, preferring for complex compositions where small details prevail, and with a few exceptions, where the outstanding songs are not obvious, but there to be discovered and assimilated by the listener. In short, it may rate a bit lower than its predecessors, or it may not be the indisputable masterpiece we are used to receive from them. But it’s an excellent record (another one to add to an already mind blowing career) from a unique band.

Sorry about the long post. This was a special review for me.

SCORE: 8,25/10

"Young Hearts Crying", life's constant defeat

Young Hearts Crying- Richard Yates

Spanish readers, we have to celebrate the works from Richard Yates keep being published regularly after decades of being an ignored author. We are getting close to have them fully now. The last to arrive is "Young Hearts Crying", one of his latest novels (1984) and in my opinion, arguably his most pessimistic and depressive.

And considering Yates' works that's a lot to say. The two books previously reviewed on this blog, "A Good School" and "A Special Providence" were very sad already but nothing compared with "Young Hearts Crying". Sure, the novel might not be as devastating or crude as his masterpieces "Revolutionary Road" or the "Easter Parade", but it might be his most ambitious in what refers to scope, character development, subjects and sub-plots. And because of these shows a comprehensive view of life that is absolutely merciless: life is just a constant disappointment, a never-ending defeat.

Yates' characters have no option in "Young Hearts Crying". Lucy and Michael are portrayed to detail from the day they met to decades after. In a period that comprises more than two decades, from 1950s to the 70s, we have all the ingredients: social class, courtship, marriage, friendship, sentimental relations, sex, divorce, kids, artistic ambitions, work, madness, isolation, social and political changes... All poignant failures, all fears.

Yet despite being a book a bit too long, or having some subplots not that interesting -Lucy's hippie affair in my opinion, although it serves the purpose of portraying the decay of Michael latest relation-, Yates ability to knock you out, to dissect and find the perfect short sentence or brutal dialogue is unparalleled. One can also say that in this novel he finds a more direct voice. He is disarmingly real, the development of his characters is always vivid. But I can't help thinking this book must say a lot about the author's view of the world, of existence. Because there's barely nothing positive to hold on to inside this pages. Instead, you can even feel a certain rage, an inner turmoil that some times gets verbalised in the rants and thoughts of Michael Davenport. Social class and art receive the most harsh invectives, as well as the sad look to human relations that are Yates' trademark.

The American Dream has been and still is a recurrent subject on literature. But there's no other author capable of demolishing the dream with so much accuracy and realism than Richard Yates. Even if it hurts. And it does.

SCORE: 7/10

"Post Office", working-class Bukowski

Post Office- Charles Bukowski

A warning: don't read this if you are struggling with your job. Although it could help you to have the g_ _ _  to call it a day, to put it nicely.

"It began as a mistake", the novel begins. A mistake that went on for more than twelve years, on which Charles Bukowski, through the adventures of his alter-ego Henry Chinaski, shows how he became a slave to the wage, like the 99% of us (we all also know who the vile and corrupted remaining 1% are, but that should go on another post), at the U.S. Postal Service.

Sure, If you have read Bukowski previously, you'll find little to be surprised here. There's booze, horses, women and the grim, raw and let's face it, quite funny prose that is so quintessential of this writer. But besides the (always highly recommendable) Hank-by-numbers, "Post Office" offers something else, something more. A deformed, close to the grotesque if you want, but also a very clear mirror in which the majority of us can reflect his/her image.

Because this novel is truly a treaty, written in Bukowski's unique "knockout style", of how jobs ruins and finally ends killing something inside of us. Chinaski is defeated by routine, by boredom, by plain stupidity, by soul-killing workplaces and mind-numbing strategies created just for the sake of having a higher rate on efficiency while decreasing his level of self-stem. Does it sound familiar to you? I bet it does.

At the same time, though, some people need a daily work not to throw himself/herself from a window, or starts a life of self-destruction. It's a contradiction wonderfully portrayed on "Post Office", being an unsuspected deep analysis of the most mundane, zero glamour, life miseries. It's a poignant "I hate my job" tale, but also a "I need to do something with my life" story, one on which Chinaski constantly seeks company (this book is not really about sex, but about not being alone, there's an intriguing sadness on his perspective on relations here) as much as he needs booze. And despite Chinaski is the perfect example of the anti-hero, in "Post Office" he wins. He says "that's enough", looking towards starting a new chapter on his life.

Like John and Dan Fante (add Carver, Wolff and to some extent Richard Yates), Bukowski is able to say a lot of things to readers without what it seems that much (on the surface). He is just worried of telling the truth (of course, his truth). There's no point in mannerisms, affectations or sentimentalism, because he didn't write to impress you. He wrote about what he cared and what he knew best than anyone else, his life. And he was just interested in telling it like it was. All I can say is thank you Hank.

SCORE: 7,25/10

"A Good School", sad learnings from high school

A Good School- Richard Yates

It already happened to me when I read, then reviewed "A Special Providence". The emotion of having another book from master Richard Yates, being engaged by it while devouring it, and once the times come for the analysis, finding it a minor piece from the author.

Being honest, I'm pretty sure that sort of (minor) let down is the consequence of Yates being responsible of two undeniable masterpieces of modern contemporary literature: "Revolutionary Road" and "The Easter Parade". "A Good School" cannot compare with these two amazing novels. But still, we are in front of another very solid work, and of course, really recommendable.

Yet another factor in these aforementioned let down could be the lack of originality on the premise and development of the novel. How many remarkable books have been constrained into the walls of boarding schools? Salinger and Tobias Wolff to name just two unmissable authors. But that judgement would be a bit unfair. Yates, as expected from such a unique writer is capable of transmitting something completely personal to the book: a genuine sadness. In my imaginary world of music and literary connections, The National composed "Sorrow" for Richard Yates. 

From the very beginning, the reader will have the feeling student William Grove is some sort of Yates' alter ego, something that is almost confirmed at the end of the novel. And from page one, the chronicle of the high school years at the Dorset Academy are marked by sadness. Despite II World War has a direct effect on the students, wouldn't say this is a dramatic book, because Yates style, always using the perfect sentence, without wasting words and letting the reader "fill the gaps", avoids digressions and unnecessary floridnesses. No, the sadness I'm referring its primarily intrinsic to the characters, to the Academy as a whole. 

Yates gives space to various stories to evolve within the novel. Professors trapped into their damaged bodies and hearts, kids that doesn't seem to fit anywhere else, aspirations that are truncated or were just impossible, and the threat of constant failure, finally becoming a reality for the institution. The Dorset Academy is an isolated microcosms, that for a while seems completely separated from real world. But this will hit the place hard in the end, mercilessly. William Grove's story there is one of frustration and lost until he finds his own place: the school newspaper. But this is not a heroic tale of growing up, our leading character finally manages to surface and find his own way almost alone, almost creating a world of his own, full of deadlines and writings, inside of the Dorset small universe.

I can't clearly point out what's lacking on "A Good Novel". The stories seem to converge one final tragedy, that Yates solves again with an incredible, clinical precision, taking benefit of the journalistic sub-plot of the book, and then ends. My guess is that he just wanted to capture a glimpse of, a slice of life, teenage years that abruptly ended, forced by major circumstances and a fated destiny. Or maybe he was just trying to look back to those formation years without any anger or desolation. As I said, recommendable as everything Yates wrote, but far from his masterpieces.

SCORE: 6,75/10 

"A Special Providence", the wars of Richard Yates

A Special Providence- Richard Yates

I believe Richard Yates is one of the best writers the world has had. So it’s no surprise “A Special Providence” is a very good book. But there’s a problem: it’s written by Richard Yates. With an author like him, you don’t expect just a very good book. You expect greatness. And in that sense, this work is a minor piece.

Of course, a minor piece from Yates is still better than 75-80% of the books you’ll read on a year. His masterful prose, always focused and powerful, flows without any superficiality or unnecessary ornament while it touches you deeply (Yates is, in my opinion, one of a handful writers able to destroy you completely when you immerse yourself in his prose without forcing any dramatic spring). But with “A Special Providence” he only achieves on less than half of the book.

What Yates attempts with this book is intertwining two stories that are depending on each other, on what it seems a quite autobiographical work (and poignant, very personal demons). One is Robert Prentice’s life as a soldier in the II World War, drafted after being graduated from high school. Yates runs from any of the usual heroic portraits of the soldier, the camaraderie or any supposed value the army has. Instead he draws a grey picture of logical incompetence, confusion (he aims to be an illustrated, smarter than average soldier), and growing frustration as the desired glory or honour he seeks never arrives, with a final turn towards a sort of despondent resignation.

The other is Alice Prentice’s, his mother, tale of misery, impossible dreams to fulfill and the need to keep cheating herself. The clash between social and artistic aspirations and the depressing reality is (Yates’ trademark) merciless and absorbing. We suffer her economic burdens, we hurt with Alice’s idealisation of plans that are pending of a very thin line, and we feel devastated when they finally crumble. In a way the two stories are pretty similar, their aspirations and their place in the world is equally elusive and cruel for them. But there’s no balance between the two. I found Alice’s part much more absorbing and compelling. Maybe is because the army and war have been used as a topic too many times in literature, and despite Yates unheroic approach it is not very original. Or maybe, the blurred character Robert is makes it too distant for the reader to emphasize with.

As anything coming from Richard Yates, I will definitely recommend you to read “A Special Providence”. Just don’t expect to find another “Revolutionary Road” or “The Easter Parade”.

SCORE: 6,5/10

"Richard Yates", Tao Lin's insult to literature

Richard Yates- Tao Lin

I'm very sorry for the title of my post. But that's how I feel after reading this book. And the mere fact he is using the name and surname of Richard Yates, in my opinion, one of the best writers this world has ever read, as the title of his novel, to me is offensive. I don't believe he did it ironically. Worse, I don't care if he did. The result is exactly the same. This book is awful.

I didn't know about Tao Lin's over-hype. I guess that not being American it was something completely alien to us. I didn't have any previous opinion about him either, but after reading the novel I made a little search and sadly, it has not helped at all. Read this little fragment of an interview made on a Spanish diary. Again, I don't care if he's being ironic or what. That's the answer of a total jerk (depression is quite a serious thing for many people).

"Are you as depressed and unhappy as is assumed in your books? I don't know. Maybe. But other people depressed is unable to do anything. I have published six books. And I take antidepressants just for fun".

Kafka for the iPhone generation? That's a very offensive insult to the Czech genious. The writer for the facebook generation? Excuse but I know lots and lots of people that use facebook regularly (me included) and are not stupid. 

Sorry if I'm taking my time to write about the author and not about the novel. I am. But that's because there's not much to talk about the book. This novel is a trifle. Maybe it wasn't Lin's goal, just a marketing strategy, but contrary to what the say, "Richard Yates" doesn't reflect the reality of the world we are living, with modern kids who live their life through a social network or a chat. Lin's book just shows reflect the lack of talent of someone who constructs simple verb phrases after simple verb phrases (X says, Y says) and the most tedious voice I ever read in literature. 

Dakota and Haley are impossible characters. Not only their ages and educational levels have no relation with how they talk/chat/sms each other, that would be more associable to 10-12 year old kids, but they are plain clichés too. Just two words that resume my point: depressed and suicide, used ad infinitum. If  the book was just a short story of no more than 20 pages it could pass as a joke, or if, at least, the kids fulfilled their promise and commit suicide...

Empty, profoundly superficial and topical, without a direction (plot? still wondering), I promise that finishing only a bit more than 200 pages has been to me like reading Tolstoy's "War and Peace" twice. Some critics say his prose is the most accurate expression of the minimalist approach. That's another offensive comparison. If authors like Raymond Carver, Tobias Wolff where called minimalists was because they wanted to eliminate everything superficial, accessory, irrelevant from their works. But Lin's case is the opposite. What can you do when you have nothing else than superficiality and irrelevance on your book?

Tao Lin has said this is sort of an autobiography, that he wrote for himself. That concludes any debate about its (lacking) quality. In my opinion, it would have been excellent if he had decided to keep it for himself. But opens another one: why was this published? I think that has to do with these tendency of looking for and selling trends. You find that author, you create a categorization for him/her (post-post-modernism? how cool sounds that, right?) and hire/influence some critics that will say this is "the next big thing". Oh, and you can always say people that doesn't get is because they are not prepared for anything new or challenging, or that they didn't get the irony of it. Yes, the irony. Look how I'm laughing.

SCORE: 0,75/10

"Blue Valentine", dancing to the end of love

Blue Valentine
First advice: be aware of the moment (your emotional moment) when you decide to see the film, as it is going to affect you. And second advice: don't miss it, try to watch it by all means (probably won't get a release date in Spanish cinemas, that's why I say "all means", I know you have read this rant before).

Because "Blue Valentine" is devastating. Like reading Richard Yates. Like listening to "Blood on the Tracks" by Dylan, "Ultraviolet" or "Love is Blindness" by U2. Is one the of most raw and compelling dissections of the death of a relationship I ever seen. A realistic, profound and utterly sad study-character of a couple, showing us, back and forth, their relation as a complex puzzle (as every human relation is), a collection of moments and situations: the great, the good, the bad, the worse.

First, I have to praise the writing and direction of Derek Cianfrance. The premise of the film is far from being original (the superficial story could be defined even as pretty conventional), but he's capable to craft a movie that breaths, exudes honesty and its poignantly alive. A big part of it success lies in the terrific script. Measured scenes where the joy of love is condensed on a sentence, a look, a song (excellent soundtrack), or on the contrary, dialogues like sharp knifes, ready to become daggers to harm the one you once loved.   

Second, and intrinsic to the script, is the acting, which is simply exceptional. Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams are Dean and Cindy. I mean you are not seeing just characters evolving during a film, you are seeing flesh and blood persons crumbling in front of you, alternated with scenes when it seemed nobody/nothing can stop them from being together. It's scary (because of the topic) how well they complement each other on screen.Though I'm not surprised because I already considered both actors the best of their generation (30 and under), with "Blue Valentine" they have added one of the best performances of their careers.

Dean (Gosling) turns from a charming, romantic and careless guy to a frightened, insecure and verbally aggressive person. Cindy (Williams) evolves from a lovely, shining sweet and caring girl into a consumed, frustrated mother. Their degradation is obvious, even physically. And you can sense easily their desperation as well. We have "disordered" glimpses of their relationship: the past just before meeting, how they fell in love, and how their choices turned their happiness into the regret and misery of their present. But we don't need to know it all. Filling in the intentional holes (just a couple of times, minor regarding the story, where ellipsis might be too broad), like on good literature, is our task. That way Cianfrance direct us to a personal connection, sometimes even a recognition of ourselves in the film.What we see is far from being comfortable or pleasant (hard to remember a film where sex scenes have been so relevant and poignant for example), there's even a physical threat all around, but is sincerely human.

"Blue Valentine" is a rare, brave and fierce, brilliantly acted, masterpiece, about the most important subject: human relationships and love. Don't miss it, please.

SCORE: 9/10