Books, movies, and some items in the stream

Topics: a new Paul Simon biography, Michael Beschloss on presidents in wartime, Green Book, Aquaman, Roma, Won't You Be My Neighbor?, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, A Very English Scandal, and more.

As I mentioned before, I have used my school break to enjoy some reading, and I have managed to squeeze in a couple of more books before classes resume tomorrow. One was Robert Hilburn's biography of Paul Simon, noteworthy because Simon cooperated -- well, mostly; he declared questions about his children and about an incident with his wife Edie Brickell off-limits. There is still plenty to talk about, particularly when it comes to Simon's writing process and the changes in it. You get the details of the makings of his landmark songs, plenty about his complicated relationship with Art Garfunkel, Simon's forays into an array of musical styles (and the resulting debate over his work with South African musicians in the apartheid era) and a close look at his later, less famous but to many highly accomplished work. That said, Hilburn's biography, thorough as it is, does not quite soar. There's an air of detachment to it reminiscent of Simon himself; I don't remember Hilburn's fine book on Johnny Cash feeling as workman-like at this sometimes does.Still,  while I can date my listening to Simon back to "The Lone Teen Ranger" (recorded as Jerry Landis), which was not a big hit but got plenty of airplay on my local radio station, I had lost track of his work the past many years. Hilburn has made me want to pay attention.

I had the privilege of knowing Fred Rogers back in my TV-critic days, and he was a major source for my first book, Television's Greatest Year: 1954. That may partly explain the many times I found myself wiping away tears while watching Won't You Be My Neighbor?, a documentary about Fred and his famous TV neighborhood. The documentary is more dry-eyed than I am, for example noting that Fred did not want one participant's being gay to become public knowledge because it might hurt the show. But it also demonstrates how much he took on big issues for little people, how much he cared about the way folks treated each other, and how determined he could be in the face of criticism. Through interviews with people close to Fred, including his widow, and footage from the show itself, it creates a lovely portrait.

As the country wrestles with a president who longs to be fully authoritarian, and a Congress and public making decisions about how to deal with it, Michael Beschloss's Presidents of War is a study for present days -- not merely about how presidents have dealt with war, but how they have asserted powers that departed from what the Constitution had granted them. From the War of 1812 through Vietnam, Beschloss shows how again and again presidents chose courses of action that, while occasionally direct, were also at times evasive and deceptive, even when it came to justifying the war itself. Even more, presidents sought means to fight that did not (in their view) call for congressional approval, or failed to make the public understand why they should be fighting, even when losses on the battlefield called for more explanation and inspiration. Of course, there are huge volumes covering what makes up a fraction of this book (Woodrow Wilson's disastrous tactics, Lyndon Johnson's fall into the quagmire). But Beschloss connects the threads from one war to the next, including what presidents learned from their predecessors (even if the lessons they took away were wrong).

Roma has caused a stir on a couple of fronts, because it is a major Oscars contender (coming as it does from Oscar-winning director Alfonso Cuaron) and because it reached out quickly to a very wide audience through availability on Netflix. The latter effort has made some wonder if Netflix is striking a blow against independent-film houses, while Cuaron has argued that this is a way for people to see a movie that was not likely to get room in many local theaters. I have seen it on Netflix, at home, on my 48-inch TV, and do wonder as well if my experience would have been different seeing it on a larger theater screen. But the fact is. I was easily able to watch it via the streaming service, and it was very much worth seeing.

Based on Cuaron's own life. it looks at Mexico in the early '70s through the life of a housekeeper (Yalitza Aparicio) for an upper-middle-class family. Cuaron uses this to talk about class, race, gender roles and politics -- all as elements of a daily life that could variously be beautiful and disheartening for everyone. The family's pretensions are nicely demonstrated by the conflict between a huge car and a cramped parking area; the movement through Mexico City showcases, at a lingering pace, what the place looked and felt like. And Aparacio's performance bears marvelous witness to the world around her.

Also taking advantage of Netflix as a venue is The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, a set of short western tales from the Coen brothers. There's a comedic element to the title tale (which reminded me a bit of Hugh Wilson's Rustler's Rhapsody), and a melancholy beauty in others that, in their use of arbitrary violence and compassionate characters, recalled the best of Larry McMurtry's novels. Humor in one story may be followed by sorrowfulness in another, propelled in many cases by fine actors such as Liam Neeson, Brendan Gleeson, Tyne Daly and Tom Waits. The best ;performance, and best story, is "The Gal Who Got Rattled," with Zoe Kazan (The Big Sick) as a woman embarked on a wagon-train journey that proves even more unfortunate than it first seemed. But I also loved Waits in a virtual one-man show, "All Gold Canyon," and the sheer pleasure of watching Daly, Gleeson, Chelcie Ross and Saul Rubinek working together in "The Mortal Remains." 

We have managed also to go out to the movies, including to "Aquaman" which, aside from the charismatic presence that is Jason Momoa, did not do much for me. It's not the worst comic-book movie I've seen lately -- that would be the energetic but generally uninteresting "Venom" -- but the beauty of its special effects do not make up for thin storytelling stretched to excessive length.

A much better theater experience was Green Book, especially because of the performance by Mahershala Ali as the pianist Don Shirley. The movie has been criticized in some circles for  misrepresenting Shirley, and for being a "white savior" movie since the main character is Tony "Lip" Vallelonga (Viggo Mortensen), a rough-edged guy who is hired to drive Shirley on a concert tour in the segregated South. (The titile refers to a guide listing hotels and restaurants where African-Americans would be welcome.)

 But while Tony does help Shirley find some solace in the movie (co-written by Vallelonga's son), it is as much about Shirley teaching Tony -- about Tony's own prejudices, about the real world outside New York City, about expressing love. Yes, there are some obvious notes to the tale. Yes, I would love to see a movie about Shirley alone. But this still works much of the time, and Ali is, once again, spectacular to watch whether he is showing Shirley's precision and arrogance or his moments of anger mixed with pain.

I should also mention a couple of binges: the second season of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, on Amazon, and the miniseries A Very English Scandal, also on Amazon. The second season of Maisel started somewhat rockily for me, with the rapid dialogue (a hallmark of writer Amy Sherman-Palladino) edging into the frantic. But it seemed to settle into a better pace as it went along; it also dug deeper into the idea of finding what you want in life -- which Midge Maisel had discovered and other characters began to ponder more seriously. The cast remains spectacular -- Rachel Brosnahan, Alex Borstein, Tony Shalhoub. There's a scene where Shalhoub, as Midge's father, discovers her standup-comic life that is a gem. Just look at the way Midge becomes not a strong adult but Daddy's daughter in the moment. And don't miss Zachary Levi's cool and confident turn in a supporting role.

A Very English Scandal revisits the story of Jeremy Thorpe, a closeted British politician who considers extreme measures to keep a gay affair from coming to light. Hugh Grant is Thorpe and Ben Whishaw is his lover, Norman Josiffe (later Norman Scott).Whishaw just won a Golden Globe for his work in the series, and I've long been a fan of his work, so I looked this up. Still, Grant is an even better reason to watch the three-part tale which hews closely to the facts and to what at times seems like a farce but is more fundamentally a social tragedy, with people caught in the prejudices and fears of their times.