The collected thoughts of sportswriter, bookworm, & food critic Keith Law
Usual disclaimer – I am not much of a football fan, let alone any kind of expert, and I am not placing any actual bets on these games – but here are my picks:
San Diego (+14) over NEW ENGLAND – New England to win
GREEN BAY (-7) over New York
I’m leaning towards the under on both games – anywhere from 46.5-48 on the first game, and 40.5-41.5 on the second.
I didn’t mean for this to become the all-Jane Austen blog, but I stumbled on this AP article on Andrew Davies, the screenwriter behind the famed 1995 Pride and Prejudice adaptation and behind this Sunday’s new take on Northanger Abbey. For a guy who talks about making changes to novel texts in his adaptations, he’s all the way at the “faithful” end of the continuum of adapters.
I have a rule when it comes to novels: If there’s a map of a fictional place in the front, move in the other direction. I can’t think of a book since the Lord of the Rings series that had such a map at its start and didn’t end up the worse for it.
The fact that the author took time to make up a country or a region or a continent or whatever does not impress me; it tells me he was more enamored with the creation of irrelevant details than he was with things like plot, character development, or themes. This preference for creation over craft bedevils the fantasy genre as a whole, and it’s the reason why I rarely bother to read anything from that section of the store.
Gregory Maguire’s Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West
Wicked is a parallel novel, telling the “other side” of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by providing a backstory for the Wicked Witch of the West, as well as her sister, trying to make them sympathetic characters. The Wicked Witch of the West is given a name, Elphaba, which in and of itself has a mythology in the novel, and she’s a Hermione Granger sort of child, an intellectual who takes up the causes of the oppressed; she’s shunned from birth because she was born with green skin (a point which is explained later in the book in what I found to be a very unsatisfying way), and it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that until her death she has major daddy issues.
Wicked struck me wrong in multiple ways. Reusing someone else’s characters and setting is unoriginal; recasting them and altering facts or personality traits is unethical. Maguire alters entire characters and turns chunks of Baum’s original story on its head. He also clearly intended for this to be a novel of ideas – it’s a superficial one at best – and again, if you’re going to do that, make up your own universe first. Wicked‘s text also includes some awkward descriptions of sex and bodily functions, almost as if the book was written by a teenaged boy or someone who had that particular species’ fascination with those two subjects and unfamiliarity with the former. I admit that it’s not easy to write about sex – there’s an entire award devoted to the problem – but Maguire’s style is just painful, from perfunctory descriptions of the mechanics of sex to oddly jarring mentions of defecation or regurgitation.
The novel moves quickly despite some clunky prose and the aforementioned problems, because the material itself is so lightweight. I don’t mind lightweight reading if it’s entertaining and was intended to be lightweight, but Wicked is almost devoid of humor and suffers under the weight of some of its pretensions, including an explicitly stated question on the nature of evil that is only sparingly addressed. I’m tilting at a windmill given the book’s success and the way it has opened up a cottage industry for Maguire, who has since written similar books revising Snow White and Cinderella to his liking, but I’d like to see someone dump some water on Maguire before he desecrates another classic work by writing an adolescent retelling.
Just came across an interesting New York Times article written last month about the change in strategy at Food Network. It starts with the surprising (to me, at least) revelation that “Emeril Live” has been cancelled, at least to the effect that they are no longer filming new episodes. I knew they’d moved it on their evening schedule – “Good Eats” is now on at 8 pm on weeknights, which is fine by me – but wasn’t aware they’d stopped filming and canned six people.
I’m pretty sure I’m in a coveted demographic for Food Network’s execs: 34 years old, highly educated, a parent, high disposable income, big spender on food and cooking items, and so on. Yet my Food Network viewership has been declining for years, even though I have worked at home since late 2001 and, of course, have a Tivo that allows me to watch whatever I want. This article confirmed for me why they’ve largely lost me as a viewer: They’re dumbing the whole thing down.
I originally watched Food Network, starting in the late ’90s, because I was learning to cook. I stumbled on “Good Eats” in late 1999 – “The Fungal Gourmet” was the episode – and I was hooked. I also watched “Emeril Live,” “The Naked Chef,” and “Molto Mario” regularly, and would usually just flip to Food Network if I was home and bored. My need for instruction has waned – even “Good Eats” is repetitive at this point – but I’d still watch for recipe ideas or little kitchen tricks if they were showing that type of programming. Instead, the nights are filled with contrived travel shows and reality series; the “Ace of Cakes” seems like a nice guy, but really, who cares about the back-room operations at a cake store? If I’m not learning, and I’m not being entertained, I’m not going to watch.
But perhaps the bigger problem is the way Food Network is going to drive away its top talent, in effect leaving them in a position where they are betting that their own brand is strong enough that they can manufacture new stars along the way. Food Network has not received any cut of the revenues its stars have received from sales of celebrity-endorsed products, such as Emeril’s Emerilware line from All-Clad. They’re now “insisting on a stake in book deals and licensing ventures, and control over outside activities” both in new contracts and in renewals with current talent, and I can see why that would lead some of the brighter stars to walk away.
When FN first launched its “Next Food Network Star” competition, a co-worker and close friend of mine with the Jays encouraged me to apply, knowing that I loved to cook and had the interesting background that typically appeals to reality shows. So I went to their site and looked at the application … which looked to me like indentured servitude. You give up everything, including your recipes, to Food Network. I like being on TV as much as anyone, but not at the cost of my soul. If that’s the devil’s bargain the Faust Network is offering, they’re not going to get the best talent coming in the door, and that means they’re not going to get the most desirable audience for their advertisers.
When it comes to film adaptations of classic novels, I’m a purist – I want them to hew closely to the original text. The 2007 adaptation of Jane Austen’s Persuasion
Anne Elliott is a 27-year-old maiden who, eight years previously, was talked out of accepting a marriage proposal from a young naval officer named Frederic Wentworth; Anne’s father is a baronet, while Wentworth was untitled and poor, and therefore her family and a close family friend all urged her to decline the proposal. Eight years later, Frederic returns to Anne’s life via a small coincidence, still unattached but now quite wealthy, and apparently harboring a little resentment over the earlier snubbing.
The problem both filmed versions have revolves around Anne. In the book, Anne has a quiet strength of character and an unhappy acceptance of her maiden status, which, given her age, is presumed to be permanent. In both films, however, she’s a terrified little mouse – the 1995 version has Amanda Root (as Anne) wandering around with her eyes wide open in terror the entire time, while the 2007 version has Sally Hawkins trembling her lips half the time and bursting into tears whenever she’s alone. Anne Elliott was based somewhat on Jane Austen herself, and it’s hard to accept the character as an über-effeminate weakling.
Because the 2007 version is so short (under 90 minutes), most of the secondary characters get short shrift and find their foibles sharpened to caricature status. Anne’s father goes from an oblivious snob to a wastrel bore. Her sister Mary goes from a self-centered invalid to a sniveling witch. Her other sister, Elizabeth, mistreats Anne in the book but is barely evident in the novel. Anne’s cousin, Henrietta, is promised to a young curate in their parish who appears in the book but doesn’t appear at all in the film.
And the ending … ah, the ending. Suffice to say that an English lady would not be found running all over Bath, half out of breath, in search of anyone, and certainly wouldn’t be caught playing tonsil hockey in the middle of the street with the man of her dreams.
If you’ve read Persuasion
This Sunday, PBS’ “Complete Jane Austen” series continues with a new adaptation of Austen’s Northanger Abbey, probably the least well-known of her six completed novels, featuring the silliest of her heroines.
… and I missed something right in my wheelhouse, a comparison of baseball to classic movies. From Buster Olney, by way of Fire Joe Morgan:
If you want to quibble with the fact that he won the award in 1978, or with his placement in some particular year, OK, I get that. But to ignore the MVP voting entirely, as if it isn’t at least some kind of barometer of his play over the course of his career, is embarrassing. This is like saying, “Hey, forget the Oscar voting of the 1950s. Marlon Brando was clearly overrated.”
I think that’s a fabulous idea. Let’s compare the mindblowing stupidity of MVP voting to the mindblowing stupidity of Oscar voting. For example, guess how many combined non-honorary Oscars Alfred Hitchcock, Orson Welles, and Federico Fellini won?
One.
That’s right – just one, won by Welles, for writing the screenplay to Citizen Kane. Three of the greatest directors in the history of motion pictures died with a total of zero Best Director statues.
Citizen Kane itself was nominated for best picture (one of ten in 1942), but lost to How Green Was My Valley. When the American Film Institute published its list of the 100 best movies of the 20th century, Citizen Kane was #1. How Green Was My Valley wasn’t on the list.
Paul Newman didn’t win a Best Actor Oscar until 1986, for The Color of Money, a Lifetime Achievement Award in all but name. Cary Grant never won an Oscar. Humphrey Bogart won one, for The African Queen, but not for Casablanca, a movie that didn’t yield a single win in any of the four acting categories. Peter O’Toole never won an Oscar; he was nominated for Lawrence of Arabia but lost to Gregory Peck for To Kill a Mockingbird. Audrey Hepburn won once, for Roman Holiday, but wasn’t even nominated for My Fair Lady in one of the most blatantly political votes in the history of the Oscars. (The award went to Julie Andrews for Mary Poppins; Andrews starred in the Broadway version of My Fair Lady but was replaced by Hepburn for the film.)
Stanley Kubrick won one Oscar, for Best Effects/Special Visual Effects for 2001, but was 0-for-3 as a director. An American in Paris beat out A Streetcar Named Desire (which was nominated) and The African Queen (which wasn’t) for Best Picture in 1952, while Singin’ in the Rain – an infinitely better picture than An American in Paris, and possibly the best musical ever – received just a pair of minor nominations two years later. Stanley Donen was never even nominated for an Oscar.
Consider some of the best contemporary figures too. Johnny Depp has just two nominations and no wins. Nicole Kidman has one, for The Hours. Martin Scorsese has just one Best Director win, this past year for The Departed. And everyone knows how long it took Steven Spielberg to win his first Best Director award – long enough that he won the Irving Thalberg Award first.
So yes, please, let’s compare MVP voting to Best Picture/Director/Actor voting. We could argue all day about which is worse.
I’ll be offline starting on January 9th, running through the 16th, for vacation. I’ll keep an eye on comments here, but won’t be posting on this site or writing for ESPN.com. Thanks.
Quick note: ESPNEWS will replay the Jim Rice segment from my appearance at 5:20 pm EST. Enjoy.
I’m not surprised by anything except Raines’ poor showing.
Anyway, here’s a comparison of my final tally to the actual percentages, with the last column representing a straight difference (my % – actual %)
| TOTAL | 120 | Pct | 543 | Actual | Diff |
| Gossage | 108 | 90% | 466 | 86% | 4% |
| Rice | 82 | 68% | 392 | 72% | -4% |
| Blyleven | 79 | 66% | 336 | 62% | 4% |
| Dawson | 79 | 66% | 358 | 66% | 0% |
| Morris | 58 | 48% | 233 | 43% | 5% |
| Smith | 44 | 37% | 235 | 43% | -7% |
| Raines | 42 | 35% | 132 | 24% | 11% |
| McGwire | 29 | 24% | 128 | 24% | 1% |
| Trammell | 29 | 24% | 99 | 18% | 6% |
| John | 22 | 18% | 158 | 29% | -11% |
| Concepcion | 16 | 13% | 88 | 16% | -3% |
| Murphy | 13 | 11% | 75 | 14% | -3% |
| Parker | 11 | 9% | 82 | 15% | -6% |
| Mattingly | 6 | 5% | 86 | 16% | -11% |
| Baines | 4 | 3% | 28 | 5% | -2% |
My tally’s estimates were within five percentage points of the actual figures for five of the top six guys; I’m pleased with that. I ended up a high on the three main stathead favorites (Bly, Rock, Tram), and low on the three guys who really don’t have any business in the Hall (Rice, Morris, Smith). Assuming I do this again next year, I’ll try to identify a few more retired voters, since that’s a good chunk (as many as 200?) of the voter pool.
But seriously, who the fuck voted for Shawon Dunston?
I’ll be on ESPNEWS today between 2 and 3 pm (along with Joe Sheehan and Tim Kurkjian) to react to the Hall of Fame announcement, which comes at 2 pm.