I occasionally review movies in this blog (obviously fewer during the pandemic). I’ve often said that the best ones are based on books (the best of them all is undoubtedly The Lord of the Rings trilogy). But there are inherent limitations found in that transfer of media from the written word to audiovisual film. The mere fact that a movie is usually between two and three hours long means it can’t possibly contain all the nuances found in a novel. Hollywood cuts, edits, and rewrites often damage the novelistic adventure when transferred to the silver screen as well.

But a recent very successful movie shows how Hollywood can even fail miserably at original storytelling—in fact, is more likely to do so because screenwriters aren’t novelists. In this case, not a flop at the box office—lots of moviegoers jumped on the bandwagon!—but in creating anything worthwhile for novel readers who expect a lot more. I’m writing about Barbie, of course. It has convinced me that I never want Hollywood to make a movie based on any of my stories!

This isn’t idle speculation about what I’d do if some producer or anyone else from Hollywood approached me. It’s a raging denial of Hollywood’s storytelling capabilities! You can savor a novel; it’s the product of a creative and inventive artist who is following the age-old tradition of storytelling. Hollywood can’t make anything that can compare with that personal relationship between reader and author because Hollywood is too mass-market; yet most moviegoers don’t read books so their expectations are low, playing into Hollywood’s hands—so when a movie is a flop, it’s really a disaster.

This isn’t idle speculation about any reaction I might have in the sense that some readers have told me that a particular title from my oeuvre would make a good movie. We’ve even discussed who would play whom at times, in particular for Detectives Castilblanco and Brookstone. (The mysteries and thrillers might receive better treatment from Hollywood, but my sci-fi would be far beyond the movie industry!) This is all a frivolous waste of time, of course. Hollywood could never do justice to even the shortest “Detectives Chen & Castilblanco” novel! And the complex intertwining of historical periods found in Son of Thunder (second book in the “Esther Brookstone Art Detective” series), arguably my best and most profound novel, would undoubtedly defeat the best Hollywood screenwriters!

In other words, I don’t want Hollywood to even try! And they won’t either, because they must appeal to a largely illiterate and audio-visually dependent yet passive audience that make few demands on quality but are great believers in hype (as in the case of Barbie).

I’ll make a prediction in this post: Hollywood and audiovisual media will destroy storytelling. Even now, the reading population is biased toward older generations. Younger people have the attention spans, so they passively watch streaming video, mesmerized by an audiovisual experience that’s superficial and far from being profound. It’s only a matter of time until the novel becomes an ancient artifact studied in some halls of social scientists. Thankfully I won’t live to see that occur, but it will happen. The process has begun.

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Son of Thunder. Three storylines come together in this mystery/thriller novel with historical fiction elements about the lives of St. John the Divine and the Renaissance artist Sandro Botticelli and how Esther Brookstone is affected by them. Perhaps this is the novel Dan Brown should have written instead of The DaVinci Code because the history here is fact-based inasmuch as it can be (of course, his isn’t). In any case, you will find Esther’s adventures described here taking her back through centuries of history as you the reader join her on an armchair journey. Available wherever quality ebooks are sold…and also in print!

Around the world and to the stars! In libris libertas!

There are a lot of new movies out—I’m up to seeing the new Daniel Craig mystery and the new Cameron film, series that are just getting started—but those movies caused me to reflect on which movie series I think are the greatest. In lieu of reviewing single books, I’ve been reviewing entire series, mostly because no one else seems to do that. I can say the same for movies. So here goes:

The “Lord of the Rings” movies. This might be the biggest, boldest, and best example of how Hollywood makes its greatest movies when the scripts are based on great books. Tolkien’s excellent fantasy series sat the bar high for all those that have followed, and this movie series brought to life on the big screen (and my TV with the DVD set) all the Christian mysticism and mythical languages created by the world’s greatest fantasy writer. And, by the way, all that great New Zealand scenery!

The “Jason Bourne” movies. You might identify Sean Connery with 007, but I identify Matt Damon with Jason Bourne even more. It took a while for me to get beyond the fact that Hollywood wasn’t following Ludlum’s storyline, especially with the second two movies in the series (I knew the third book quite well because I’ve used in as a reference on China, most recently in Fear the Asian Evil and earlier in Goin’ the Extra Mile—that third movie never mentions China!), but the essential mystery, thrills, and suspense from Ludlum’s books are there in the movie. And the third Bourne movie is probably the best action film ever made with a great actor performing. Eat your heart out, Tom Cruise!

The “Indiana Jones” movies. Harrison Ford was only a goofball hero in the goofy fantasy series Star Wars that wants to be but fails miserably as hard sci-fi, and his best performance was in classic sci-fi film Blade Runner, but he is Indy in this Spielberg series. To not slight Sean Connery (his spy-fi slapstick roles as 007 don’t do justice to Fleming’s books), he almost steals the show as Indy’s father. That third movie was the best of the lot, but they all blazed new frontiers. Who knows how the new one will be.

That’s it, mostly because Hollywood doesn’t do series well…or even sequels! (Look at all the Jurassic Park sequels, which are terrible.) Two of the three movie series mentioned here are based on book series, which helps, and one can argue that even the “Indiana Jones: movies are based on H. Rider Haggard’s “Alan Quatermain” series. (Don’t know that one? I pity you.) Perhaps Hollywood should come to its senses and use more books as a basis for movie scripts? (Of course, squeezing all that’s in a novel into a two-hour movie is a daunting problem!)

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Rogue Planet. Here’s one of my books I’d like to see made into a movie! On a quarantined planet in the far future (the quarantine exists because it’s a brutal theocracy), a prince struggles to save his world. It has all the elements found in Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, and Game of Thrones without being fantasy—warring armies, suspense and thrills, and lots of romance. And iit’s all hard sci-fi! I suppose there are nuances Hollywood would surely miss (readers won’t), but it would take a really incompetent director and studio to ruin this one. Available in both print and ebook format wherever quality books are sold.

Around the world and to the stars! In libris libertas!

Thor: Love and Thunder. (Taika Watiti, director.) I finally went to see a movie at a local AMC. The theater had aged badly during the Covid-19 pandemic (no surprise—no ticket sales implying no upkeep), but the seats were still comfy and the projector and sound system seemed to be as I remembered it. However, because this is what’s first in my list that I took home about my experience, you’ll understand why in hindsight I wished that I’d waited for a better movie.

The last really good movie I saw was PBS’s Around the World in Eighty Days (my review is this blog’s 3/4/2022 post), and that was on TV, not the big screen. When you consider how many movie reviews I’ve made over the years—this is the 86^th—you know my movie watching on that huge silver screen has diminished considerably.

When I was ready to make the leap, even though Covid is taking off again, I didn’t want to do it with Tom Cruise’s Top Gun sequel. I suppose the cinema moguls thought that repeating that first zero-plot extravaganza would bring in viewers. Not this viewer! First, I hate sequels. Second, I can’t stand the egotistical and narcissistic Scientologist, who like other actors in that secretive cabal, can’t act. So, as someone who grew up with Marvel Comics, I opted for Thor, hoping for another origins flick like Wonder Woman and The Black Panther.

Big mistake! While there are a few flashbacks to Thor’s origins, the movie was a terrible mishmash of Marvel mythology—Norse gods, Greek gods, demigods, the female king of Asgard (Tessa Thompson), ETs, and that comical and ribald guardians-of-the-galaxy crew (Chris Pratt et al.). The plot is trite and boring: An evil villain, Gorr the God Butcher (Christian Bale), wants to kill all the gods with his special sword. (He has a point—pardon the pun—at least in this movie with its many Marvel-ous distortions.) Thor (Chris Hemsworth) and friends want to stop Gorr. End of plot. If you don’t take any of this seriously—a kid using a teddy bear as a weapon put me over the edge—you might have some fun.

I knew this was a bomb when I observed that the best moments belong to Russell Crowe playing Zeus as an old gay guy, complete with faux-Greek accent (on second thought, he probably insulted all three groups, gays, Greeks, and the gods of Olympus). I suppose the ladies in the audience, from twelve to eighty-two or thereabouts in our audience, loved to see Thor in the buff when Zeus whips off all his clothes.

Maybe this movie could serve as a lesson for future screenwriters on how to turn a trivial and trite good-versus-evil plot into two torturous hours of pointless special effects? At a cost of $250 million to make, the movie has to gross $500 to be considered a success. I doubt that it will. But who knows?

At least it was something for us to do on a very hot day—campy fun at times and best when not trying to be serious, where the movie failed miserably. Oh, I forgot to mention that, besides the overwhelming special effects, the music was good when I could hear it over the battle grunts and dying screams of all the warring parties. Otherwise, this movie was an experience I prefer to forget as soon as I can possibly do so. Maybe the minions will help me erase the bad memories?

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Legacy of Evil. Due to today’s efficiency in self-publishing, my latest novel from Draft2Digital was published soon after Celtic Chronicles, Book Nine in the “Esther Brookstone Art Detective” series, but it’s more of a sequel to The Klimt Connection, Book Eight, where you first met the protagonist. Former Scotland Yard Inspector Steve Morgan receives his first murder case after a transfer to Bristol PD and a stressful secondment to MI5. An old man’s murder is soon followed by three related ones. Their investigations lead the DI and his team to probe the operations of a national crime syndicate as well as uncover a Russian oligarch’s plans to destabilize the UK. Eventually, both MI5 and NCA become involved. Available wherever quality ebooks are sold (just not on Amazon).

Around the world and to the stars! In libris libertas!

Hollywood aka Tinsel Town has always been self-absorbed and disconnected from ordinary life. Two things occurred at the recent Oscar ceremonies that can only reinforce that perception: One, many people were up in arms about Will Smith’s justifiable defense of his wife; and two, the Academy didn’t let Ukraine’s President Zelenskyy speak. Both show how obscenely sick the Academy is, and how sick our society has become, in general.

No one went after Chris Rock’s mockery of Will Smith’s wife, an insulting display from an uncaring comic on a par with ex-President Trump’s mockery of that reporter. Chris should have apologized to Will and his wife; Will had no need to apologize to Chris. Will did the noble thing and defended his wife.

Dissing Zelenskyy was also over the top. Hollywood pretends it’s so damn liberal and so caring about the world’s problems. BS! Actors, directors, producers, screenwriters—they’re mostly self-centered SOBs! At the very least, they live in a parallel dimension, disconnected from the realities of common people. They want to be like ostriches, effectively burying their heads in the sand to avoid the harshness of other people’s plights.

Compare Oscars night with Grammys night. For the latter, no one took sides in the Smith-Rock controversy; it was barely mentioned. (For counter balance, I would have preferred that someone went after Chris Rock, of course, and his style of comedy.) But John Legend and many other performers showed the world that musicians really do care, in contrast to Hollywood. Moreover, Zelenskyy was allowed to speak! The music industry is clearly better than the movie industry. Maybe that’s because musicians, like writers, have a moral spine that those in Hollywood lack? They believe in humanity more and can empathize with people’s suffering.

To these comments, I would add that the Oscars were otherwise dead and irrelevant to people’s lives, whereas the Grammys were alive and relevant in the lyrics and music of the songs. Like books, music needs no visuals—they both reach into the human soul, a lot more than the droll drivel that Hollywood now passes off as film art.

I suggest to everyone reading this post that you boycott movies, listen to music, and read books. You’re life will be much more meaningful if you do. I know mine will.

And this review of all of Hollywood will be my last movie review! It’s one that disses the entire movie industry. I shall never see another movie!

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The Klimt Connection. This eighth novel in the “Esther Brookstone Art Detective” series takes a close look at the war between democracy and autocracy at the local level as Esther, Bastiann, and friends battle far-right domestic terrorists out to kill migrants and refugees. The HQ for all the action is an MI5 safehouse where the crime-fighting duo must reside because the terrorist bombed their flat. And, of course, art is involved, as a parallel case recalls the horrors of World War II. Available wherever quality ebooks are sold (just not on Amazon). Novels #6 and #7 are free PDF downloads (see the “Free Stuff & Contests” web page).

Around the world and to the stars! In libris libertas!

Around the World in 80 Days. (PBS Masterpiece Theater) Yes, it’s been a while since I’ve posted a movie review. I haven’t been to a movie theater for two years. Covid put a hiatus in this traditionalist’s view of date-night being a good movie and dinner out. I’m still cautious and wear a mask (too many idiots out and about!). And most fare on TV and from Hollywood is drivel, so PBS comes to the rescue at times, as in this case.

The movie came in several weekly chapters like a good book, not nearly as long as the Jules Verne original, of course, but longer than the usual Hollywood two-hour schlock if put end to end. It was well done and entertaining. Creating a magnificent audiovisual experience out of Vernes’s marvelous story can’t be easy, but the production has moved any previous attempts to the dark recesses of my old memory cells. The principal actors, the English actor David Tennant as Phineas Fogg, the French actor Ibrahim Koma as Passepartout, and the German actress Leonie Benesch as Abigail Fortescue, were simply marvelous. For the racists out there (I don’t expect many racists read this blog), get your bigotry and hatred sensors turned on: Abigail and Passepartout have many romantic moments. Passepartout often saves the day too, so take that! (You’ll find bios of the cast at the PBS website. I enjoyed reading that Ms. Benesch had trouble keeping up with a running Tennant at times. Poor Fogg took a beating when he couldn’t run fast enough, though.)

By Jove, well done, I dare say! Although it differs from the novel (what movie doesn’t these days?), it’s a better story because it comes from one. This is a great adventure story without much sci-fi. (I suppose some would say it’s more fantasy than sci-fi too.) Jules Verne is often called the progenitor of all modern sci-fi, but that’s more true of Voyage to the Moon and his prescient 20,000 Leagues under the Sea (the Nautilus’s strange mode of locomotion was most certainly a nuclear reactor, don’t you know?) 80 Days is more like those other swashbuckling adventures I used to read as a kid;  novels by H. Rider Haggard and Edgar Rice Burroughs are a few more examples.

You must really see this movie, either in streaming video or reruns. And I hope you won’t miss the nuanced next-to-last scene where reference is made to another Jules Verne classic.

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Leonardo and the Quantum Code. Who gets the new code for quantum computers based on ideas in a recently discovered Leonardo Da Vinci’s notebook? Surprise, surprise! Autocrats are up to their dirty tricks here—and maybe even the US?—and they send spies and assassins to steal the technology. One of Esther’s brilliant old friends from her Oxford days has created the code. In the background, another bad player, who’s always interested in new technology, lurks as well. Can Esther and Bastiann protect her old friend? Find out here. This novel is available wherever quality ebooks are sold by reliable ebook dealers (that excludes Amazon).

Around the world and to the stars! In libris libertas!

A quick Google search told me how many have been made for the big silver screen: the ones starring Peter Ustinov (1978) and now Kenneth Branagh (2022) are the only ones. Murder on the Orient Express has fared better. Like all Hollywood remakes, one might ask: Why is another version needed?

At least one can say that Dame Agatha’s Egyptian tale has staying power. I read the original under the covers with a flashlight as a kid, my SOP for reading many books I shouldn’t have been reading at my age. I was a bit precocious, I suppose, but Christie’s novels are fairly tame in comparison  to many of today’s mystery and thrillers (including my own!).

Murder on the Orient Express is like Death on the Nile in the sense that private detective Hercule Poirot is trapped, on a train in the first book and on a steamship in the second, so he’s lucky enough to have only a handful of suspects. Of course, he applies his investigative brainpower in both.

I also read many Miss Marple originals. While Christie teamed each one of her sleuths up with a few inspectors, she never made Miss Marple and Hercule Poirot into a team to solve a murder case, something I always wondered about because it was an obvious thing to do. That was one inspiration for the entire “Esther Brookstone Art Detective” series; but Death on the Nile and Murder on the Orient Express, to a lesser extent, were direct inspirations for my Death on the Danube, which unites Miss Marple (Brookstone) with Mr. Poirot (van Coevorden), the steamboat setting changed to a riverboat (which didn’t exist in Christie’s day) as the couple try to enjoy their honeymoon.

Esther Brookstone is a sprier, younger, and feistier Miss Marple; and Bastiann van Coevorden, while a brainy investigator like Poirot, only looks like David Suchet (famous for the BBC’s Poirot series). Together they make an accomplished crime-fighting duo, something I believe Christie’s Marple and Poirot would have become as well if they had ever joined forces.

The “Esther Brookstone” series, now seven novels strong, has modern themes that Christie couldn’t have ever imagined in her day. That doesn’t detract from her oeuvre, but it makes the “Esther Brookstone” series about a twenty-first century Marple-Poirot crime-fighting team an original and hopefully entertaining number of novels for my readers.

So…go ahead and see the movie, but let me just say that no movie can ever capture the subtleties in Christie’s mysteries…or mine!

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More than a trilogy! Someone thought the first three books in the “Esther Brookstone Art Detective” series, Rembrandt’s Angel, Son of Thunder, and Death on the Danube, should finish the series as a trilogy. Surprise! They don’t. There are seven novels in the series now, but those first three have print versions, so readers can call them Esther’s “print trilogy.” The first five are also available in ebook versions. #6 and #7 are free downloads. That particular someone might have wanted to stop at a trilogy, but he couldn’t stop a good woman like Esther from seeking justice for those whom criminals, spies, and terrorists abuse and attack!

Around the world and to the stars! In libris libertas!

Frequent readers of this blog are probably aware that I’ve not done movie reviews for more than a year. The reason is obvious: Covid-19. We don’t have streaming video and don’t want it because we the need the full-screen, surround-sound, reclining seats, and popcorn—the full experience that can only be obtained in a big, traditional theater setting. I hope to return to that experience and writing movie reviews soon.

Any opinions I have about this year’s Academy Award nominees were formed by movie trailers and chats with friends, online or otherwise. These opinions about films, actors, and other film workers, if any, are basically worthless, but I will make some comments. Anthony Hopkins was a surprise; I’d have voted for Chadwick Boseman. That’s more a personal choice than a valid observation because I didn’t see their performances. I’m happy that Soul won two awards, but that’s because I love music—I have yet to see this film that seems like another advance in animation art with its portrayal of NYC’s vibrant life and citizens.

While Covid has been an unwelcome force of change, there’s no doubt that Hollywood needed to change. The descriptor “tinsel town,” intended to capture in general how irrelevant movies and how detached and out-of-touch actors, directors, and producers were in the past, is less appropriate now: Change is occurring in Hollywood. Whether it’s good or bad, Hollywood will never be the same. And maybe that’s good in itself.

Evolution isn’t only a force of nature; it’s a force for change in the world’s institutions and social norms. Whether they like it or not, conservatives have to learn to live with a changing world. Chana didn’t watch the Oscars; they boycotted them, even though a Chinese-American professor from NYU won an award. That’s disconnecting from the world. China does that at its own peril. Trumpers, and the great loser and con man himself, hate Hollywood; they’ll achieve the irrelevance they fear so much and so richly deserve.

Yes, evolution is social change too, like it or not. Dylan’s song is as true now, if not more so, than it was in the nineteen-sixties: The times are a-changin’—and that’s a good thing, in Hollywood and elsewhere. Let’s hope it speeds up so we can save the planet and arrive at the point where we all recognize that we’re all on the great spaceship Earth together and must make the best of it.

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Origins: The Denisovan Trilogy, Book One, by A. B. Carolan. Kayla Jones has dreams she can’t understand. Her future seems determined as the brilliant STEM student who looks forward to a research career, but her past gets in the way. As if the chaos afflicting the world and leading to her adopted father’s death wasn’t enough, killers begin to pursue her. With some friends who come to her aid, she’s on her way to discover a conspiracy that can be traced to prehistoric battles waged by hominins bent on conquest of a primitive Earth. Available at Smashwords and all its affiliated retailers (iBooks, B&N, Kobo, etc.) and library and lending services (Scribd, Overdrive, Gardners, etc.).

Around the world and to the stars! In libris libertas!

[Note from Steve: All my movie reviews are archived in – you guessed it – “Movie Reviews.” Considering many of you subscribe to some streaming video service like Netflix, etc., you probably have access to every movie I’ve reviewed. Maybe you’ll want to check out my review to save some time – five minutes reading vs. two hours of potential drivel. Consider me your guinea pig or canary in the coal mine. Like the following movie, I tend to see only recent movies. I don’t have streaming video!]

Call of the Wild. Chris Sanders, dir. I read Jack London’s 1903 novel in the eighth grade. Our old English prof had us read London’s “To Build a Fire.” I was impressed, so I asked for more London to read. I think we were doing American authors that year because I wrote my final paper on Samuel Clemens, which I titled “His Pen Name was Mark Twain” (not my shortest or worst poem, by the way).

To the review of this movie then: Because I read the book so long ago, I knew I wouldn’t be able to tell whether Hollywood’s take destroyed it, yet it seemed to be less gritty and survivalist than the book. I had that impression, but I’m willing to concede that what I consider gritty and survivalist has changed a lot since I was in the eighth grade!

Harrison Ford his usual rugged, suffering bastard role (made famous in Blade Runner but probably over the top in The Fugitive), and [spoiler alert maybe] keeps the Deep Throat-like voiceover going even after he dies (maybe Han Solo doing an Obi-Wan Kenobi trick here?). I don’t think critics have ever given Ford enough credit. He’s a damn good actor. Omar Sy impressed me as the black carrier of the Yukon mail too. I hope to see more of him; he almost steals the show.

The dog Buck is the real star, of course. I didn’t much mind that he and the bear were computer generated creatures. I did mind that Buck looked a bit too human at times. You almost expect him to speak to the old man and curse the villains (there are many). I’ve seen dogs that are expressive, though, so all this is pure nitpicking.

And, just for fun, I’ll play the race card (a little dig at Hollywood for the Oscars’ lack of diversity): Why was the wolf-spirit calling Buck to the wild and leading him astray black and the real white wolf Buck’s love interest? Maybe that call to the wild was good for Buck, but the wolf-spirit doing it certainly looked bad. (Yeah, I know, a weird reaction on my part!)

This was an all-around good movie, though, with beautiful scenery (hopefully not computer generated), good acting, and London’s great story defining the plot. Hollywood can still turn a good book into a good movie once and a while…and should do it more often.

The whole experience got off to a bad start for me, though. Someone put that silly Sponge Bob movie in the previews. Are you kidding? It almost ruined my enjoyment of Call of the Wild! And I clocked twenty-five minutes of previews, all of them cartoons. AMC bludgeons viewers too often.

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Comments are always welcome.

The Golden Years of Virginia Morgan. What will the US government do in the future with its agents and other employees who know too many secrets? Find out in this tale about a frightening government conspiracy. While fiction, you might ask yourself, “Could this really happen?” I wrote it, so you already know my answer! Available in .mobi (Kindle) ebook format at Amazon, and in all ebook formats at Smashwords and its affiliated retailers (iBooks, B&N, Kobo, etc.) and library and lending services (Scribd, Overdrive, Baker & Taylor, Gardners, etc.).

Around the world and to the stars! In libris libertas!

Knives Out. Rian Johnson, dir. (He’s also the screenwriter.) Readers of mystery and crime stories will love this! At times lampooning the genre in general and Dame Agatha’s mystery novels in particular (or is this honoring Christie?), it’s deadly serious too—emphasis on “deadly.”

It follows trailblazer Christie’s standard formula—indeed, the standard formula for most mysteries, even today. A murder is committed, but is it a suicide or a homicide? Local cops think it’s the former. Old man Harlan’s nurse Marta (played by Ana de Armas) thinks she did it. The plot device that she cannot tell a lie without upchucking is used effectively throughout the movie. And PI Benoit Blanc (played by Daniel Craig—work on that southern accent, James Bond) has to gather the clues and make sense out of them. (Note: Ana de Armas will appear with Craig in the new Bond movie.)

Suspects are introduced. They’re all the old man’s family (he’s played by Christopher Plummer), except for the nurse and the housekeeper. Gaps are filled in with flashbacks so the viewer can see more clues, giving the story a more modern veneer. The family is rather dysfunctional too. I thought the masturbating white-supremacist kid was a comical touch (you’d never find that in a Christie novel!); he provided some damning evidence as did other family members. That and the fact that Marta’s mother is an illegal immigrant plop this tale about one-percenters and old wealth right into modern times. To bring mystery-loving writers on board (as if the above isn’t enough), Harlan is a famous old writer of mysteries (that could be real life) who’s filthy rich (that’s mostly fiction—few writers are rich, let alone filthy rich), so the family has a lot to fight over after he dies. Kudos to the screenwriter.

The cast is superb; their acting and the plot hold your interest all the way through. But details are important here. Look for them. Readers of mystery books are good at that, but the visuals might be a bit distracting to amateur sleuths here, unlike in a book. I think I’ll see the movie again on cable if it ever appears there (I don’t use Netflix or any other streaming video service—I’d rather use that money to buy more books to read, or enjoy the big-screen experience). I felt right at home with the Wellesley, MA settings, a different mansion used for inside and outside filming. Lots of old wealth up there in that liberal bastion (why “liberal” doesn’t mean “progressive,” at least not in New England—just consider Ted’s NIMBY attitude toward windmills in Nantucket Bay, to speak ill of the dead, which is appropriate in a mystery sometimes).

Only one complaint (besides Craig’s corn-pone accent), and it’s a big one: The director obviously admires the mystery genre. You’d think with all the good mystery stories out there (one fairly recent one has a similar plot—see below), he’d make his life simple by choosing one of those. Coming up with those twists and turns can’t be easy, but all mystery writers have to have those skills. Do screenwriters think they’re the only ones who can write?

However, if you ever wanted to see a great mystery on the silver screen, even though it might be like one you’ve read before, this is a prime candidate. It’s gotten great reviews. Unfortunately, as in the book business, that doesn’t seem to mean a damn thing anymore.

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Comments are always welcome.

Murder in the One Percent. Shall we tally this in the account of “great minds think alike”? As I was watching the above late 2019 movie, I noted the similarity of the movie’s screenplay with this book that I previously read and reviewed (July 12, 2018; it was published in early 2018 and has won awards since then). In fact, Saralyn Richard’s mystery tale could have been the script for the above movie! Her story also starts with a murder at a birthday party and the suspense builds from there as her Detective Parrott takes on the role of Hercule Poirot. You’ll also find that her story is similar to and better than the movie with its many twists and turns, and going along with the first post this week, she hits the themes of wealth inequality and race a bit more skillfully (Marta is Hispanic; Parrott is black…and Knives Out has only one black actor in its cast). Best of all, Murder in the One Percent is a book, so I could hit the rewind button and pick up those clues I missed. A sequel is now available.

This is one of many great books from the great authors at Black Opal Books, including mysteries. Available in ebook and print format on Amazon or at the publisher, and in ebook format at Smashwords and all the latter’s affiliated retailers (iBooks, B&N, Kobo, etc.) and lending and library services (Scribd, Overdrive, Baker & Taylor, Gardners, etc.).

Around the world and to the stars! In libris libertas!

Little Women. Greta Gerwig, dir. (Note: This movie was praised by other critics, so it’s significant that Greta also wrote the screenplay, meaning that she got snubbed in both categories, as 2019 ends with Hollywood snubbing females in the movie arts.)

Nothing like starting 2020’s movie reviews with the movie version of a successful book. Of course, Little Women has been interpreted on the silver screen since 1917 and 1918’s silent movies (the first is lost). The 1933 version (B&W but a talkie) featured Katharine Hepburn as Jo March, the sister who’s also a writer. 1949 and 1994 versions followed. And now the 2019 version (as if we needed more, but maybe this one is “definitive”?). And those are just the movies. PBS viewers know that network had its own Masterpiece Theatre version.

I never saw those earlier movies. I was reluctant to see the 2019 version. I never read the book either, although many people consider it a classic. And I’m glad I did none of that. The story is typical nineteenth century romantic schlock—not quite as bad as Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte’s oeuvre, but right up there. (I can probably find an author beginning with C to make it the ABC’s of old romantic schlock, although I presume Nicholas Sparks can provide some stiff competition by being much worse.)

That said, here we have Jo (Saoirse Ronan), older sister Meg (Emma Watson), Beth (Eliza Scanlen), and the jealous Amy (Florence Pugh) yet again…and I watched this version. Having nothing in my personal experience to compare it too, I’ll just say it’s a mixed bag. I’m sure the dream sequences (an especially poignant one occurs when Jo dreams that Beth has recovered—at least I don’t have to worry about spoilers here) and many flashbacks (sometimes confusing, but they keep things moving by waking you up) do a lot to modernize this famous story of female empowerment. They probably weren’t in the original novel (a thanks due to Greta is here?). This and excellent acting by the women who play the March girls kept me interested throughout this very long movie.

But only a few scenes made me nod and smile. The first was the scene at the end where they put together Jo’s book—brief but symbolic. The second, also at the end, was where Jo’s earlier beau, Prof. Bhaer (Lous Garrel), who told her in that NYC boarding house she can write but should write better, informs everyone in Concord that he’s heading for California where they treat immigrants better (no border walls back then). Back at that boarding house and early on in the movie, by the way, I just knew he and Jo would be an item—and, mind you, I never read the book! (One of the best things you can say about nineteenth century romantic schlock is that it’s predictable.) I’m sure there are other nice moments that will resonate with modern moviegoers too, especially those rabid fans of the book.

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