October | 2014 | The Blue Room, Riverside Drive

She likes Zach Braff, does my DLP (Darling Loving Partner). She was an aficionado of ‘Scrubs’, a tele show that passed me by – possibly unfortunately given DLP’s descriptions of it. She waxed lyrical on the hilarity of the situations its medical practitioners found themselves in, but also commented that there was much pathos to be had with it as well. My love reckoned the writing in it was first rate, but the star attraction for her was Mr Braff.

So when a trailer for ‘Wish I Was Here’ appeared as a prelude to another movie we were seeing, DLP expressed the desire to make it our next foray to our local art house. For me Braff was an unknown, but as the offering also contained two favourites in Kate Hudson and Many Patinkin, Besides, I adore accompanying DLP to the cinema. With those two actors on board, surely the movie wouldn’t be too bad in any case – and it wasn’t.

So I was intrigued when the Sunday Tasmanian’s film reviewer, Leigh Paatsch, came out and called it ‘…faintly disappointing’, awarding it a paltry two stars – thus, I would imagine, putting plenty of punters off a viewing. Now if one is looking for something with a bit more ‘heart’ – something Leigh P does grant ‘Wish I Was Here’ begrudging kudos for – than the usual generic tinsel town product of comic book heroics and inane rom-coms. you may look to Mr Paatsch for guidance. This being the case, then you would surely opt for ‘The Skeleton Twins’, reviewed on the same page as WIWH. Our esteemed critic accoladed this with four twinklers. So, having immensely enjoyed the underdog, I thought that the higher-rater must truly be superb, it being something that promised a ‘…tale that will resonate (hate that term!) with the perceptive viewer.’ – is he having a go at the average cinema goer? This then was obviously worth a squiz. Neither I, nor LP, were let down by it. ‘The Skeleton Twins’ amply deserved his praise, but I still do not concur with his reticence over the Braff vehicle. To me it wins by the shortest of half-heads.

One ‘Twin’, Milo (Bill Hader) and WIWH’s Aiden (Braff) are both portrayed, initially, as two of life’s losers. As it happens the duo are also failed actors, but Aiden has his old man (Patinkin) providing him with enough of the readies to help support his family whilst he chases his dream. I don’t think Braff, as an actor, is any great shakes, but it was a delight seeing Hudson in a less overt role than her usual ditzy blonde or femme fatale shtick. Mandy P is as reliable as ever, but the role that gave the film extra lustre was that of Joey King as Grace Bloom, the feisty daughter who has to cope with her world being turned upside down when her grandfather’s money runs out. This is due to his battle with cancer/the American health system. Paatsch accuses this movie as being contrived, as it surely was in places and yes, the Hollywood ending can be seen a mile off. But, unlike the product he praises to the hilt, it doesn’t goes beyond the bounds of credulity.

That word – contrived – in my view, would have been better being attached to LP’s more endorsed film. Just how did Milo know where she was and be able to find her in time?. You’ll know what I mean when you see it – and I do encourage you to do so. It was the only jarring note in a great piece that started bleakly, with both Milo and his sister, Maggie (Kristen Wiig), in suicidal frames of mind. Each major protagonists, for various reasons, are overloaded with self-loathing and their means of coping with it are at the centre of TST. Sis is a serial adulteress and gay Milo was involved in something rather tawdry back in his home town, back in the day. It’s to this up-state New York locale he returns to get his shit together under Maggie’s supervision – the blind leading the blind, so to speak. Gradually we, as an audience, warm to these two battered souls. Their duetting and dancing turns are scene-stealing gems. I enjoyed Wiig in this immensely, with there also being an attractive performance from Luke Wilson as hubby Lance – a nuanced turn.

Nah, for my money it’d be hard to separate these two watchable visual creations. Both are loaded to the gills with positive messages about the ‘silver linings’ being there if one is willing to do the hard yards. And so, I am in discord with Leigh P – for each it’s three and a half stars from me.

Trailer for ‘Wish I Was Here’ = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aCponfeWNOI

Trailer for ‘The Skeleton Twins’ = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nhULZJDXLaE

The ‘White Queen’ – the DVD of a the historical series for the small screen was just the stuff I love to binge watch – Machiavellian plotting in high places, gorgeous women in and out of period dress (that’s the male bit of me) and unusually, presenting the tale from the point of view of feisty female protagonists instead of hairy-chested males (that’s the feminist bit of me).

Now ‘The White Queen’ is based on a novel of faction by Philippa Gregory. As a best selling writer of stories revolving around the kings and queens of Britain, this author has broadened our view of powerful historical figures, particularly the women of royal lineage whose stories, hitherto, have often been just vaguely sketched footnotes. Some, such as the maidens and dowagers in the aforementioned series, have even largely been erased from view because of a lack of contemporary accounts. In the past the commentary on events was largely written by males of males. My DLP (Darling Loving Partner) enjoyed this only season of TWQ as much as I, so I purchased for her the recently released print version of that saga’s sequel, ‘The King’s Curse’. Hopefully this will also be transformed into a visual presentation. Now this male has never read Ms Gregory – but there’s no aversion whatsoever to doing so. I have enjoyed many, many tomes written by women – a sizeable number of which I suspect were intended almost solely for women. As a result of that, I also figure my world view has been widened, hopefully for the better. No, my problem is not that a book is lacking hairy-chestedness and written by a non-male. It is another issue entirely. It is one not mentioned by Aviva Tuffield, but one which perhaps also needs addressing before what she wishes can come to pass.

In her excellent opinion piece, ‘Female Authors Help Broaden Men’s Horizons’, Ms Tuffield examines the great divide between the reading histories of the two genders. She postulates that the ‘world views’ of the majority of young to-be menfolk are limited by the literature selected for them at school, thus guiding what they choose for themselves later on. I know all about the former as, in my time, I have fronted innumerable heterogeneous classrooms – proficiently so I feel. Part of doing so is taking the path of least resistance when it comes to the selection of such reading material. This is not something I am entirely proud of – but if one looks at the priority of getting kids to read – it is a position I felt somewhat justified in adopting. Largely speaking, girls are self starters when it comes to taking a book (or kindle) in hand and devouring the printed word contained within (on?). Therefore tomes selected for classroom use often are (were in my case) designed to entice the lads to be similarly enthused.

Ms T worries about what are termed the ‘dick’ tables. These seem to be positioned to the fore in airports and at the chain sellers. On these, male penned novels, biographies and sporting non-fiction reign supreme. As far as the selection of works to be reviewed by critics in our major dailies are concerned, again authors with xy chromosomes are decidedly in the ascendency – do more males write books? Perhaps there is a correlation, although it should never be used as an excuse, if that is the case. In fairnesses, both these imbalances should be rectified.

Overall, Aviva T asserts that all of the above ‘…thwarts girls’ ambitions.’ My feeling is that that maybe a tad strong. I also suspect that secondary girls who don’t ‘…know women could write books.’ would be very much an extreme minority. I do praise the creation of the Stella Prize as a means of overcoming this sexism in literature, an award for which, to use a non-politically correct term, only authoresses are eligible. Those guys who whine, ‘Where is the one for male authors?’ should very much be put back in their boxes, with the lids slammed down hard.

But to address the opinion that ‘…boys and men prefer to read only books by and about males.’ then, in my view, there is something else at work here. Something bloody well needs to be done about the covers of many books written by women. Although this is at it’s most off-putting to younger possessors of xy, it has also discouraged someone as ancient and hoary as myself from taking down from a shelf books by favourite novelists of the feminine persuasion. Some cover art, by its design or colour (pink), screams out, ‘Don’t even think about it unless you’re xx!’ I suspect this perhaps works both ways too, Ms Tuffield. Pointedly, the less gender specific the outward wrapping is, the more likely the issue that is causing your concern could at least be alleviated back to a more satisfactory balance.