Get it while you can before Lucasfilm shuts the site down: Frank Darabont’s 2003 draft (PDF) of Indiana Jones and the City of the Gods. I’ve read the first 50 pages (when I should be doing other things) and it appears that David Koepp and George Lucas dumbed Darabont’s draft down big time, diluting many of Darabont’s ideas for the final cinematic product. Henry Jones is in the draft. Marion has dialogue that matches her Raiders incarnation, complete with many Casablanca homages, and she’s married! Indy gets drunk and sings. Indy mutters “Damn kids” when he sees the hot rodders and kicks ass in a car chase.
Yeah, there’s still the bullshit about the four waterfalls and the lead fridge. But if we had to deal with Lucas’s contrived story, Darabont’s version is the Indy 4 film that should have been made. Spielberg and Ford both loved it. It was Lucas who got his talentless knickers in a bunch over the idea of presenting “his” hero as even remotely flawed. (via Vulture)
The Call by Yannick Murphy: The always interesting author of Here They Come and Signed, Mata Hari returns with a novel that whips up a worldview from a rather quirky set of limitations: namely, the call logs that a veterinarian maintains as his son is unexpectedly put into a coma and an unforgiving economy denies him work. What emerges is a surprisingly optimistic, often funny, and very moving account on how one family uses acceptance and forgiveness as a way to atone for hard knocks. (
Birds of Paradise by Diana Abu-Jaber: Forget Franzen and Eugenides. If you're looking for a social novel that counts, Diana Abu-Jaber is the author you're looking for. Building from the free-form exploration of consciousness and identity in Crescent and the gripping procedural structure of Origin, Abu-Jaber's latest novel is her finest, equally fluent with gutterpunk culture and smarmy real estate men. It has been suggested by The Washington Post's Ron Charles that you will likely gain some pounds while reading this novel. This is certainly true. Abu-Jaber's description of food is so precise that it often made me want to do more cooking. But I very much admired the way in which Abu-Jaber presents all her characters as unwitting victims of rough capitalism, which permits them some dignity even as they perform terrible acts.
The Last of the Live Nude Girls by Sheila McClear: This memoir isn't so much about the decline of the Times Square peepshow, as it is about one young woman's efforts to pull herself up by by her bootstraps when presented with few economic options. Filled with self-introspective candor and a quiet dignity, McClear's story is one that might befall any of us in these volatile times. While McClear does get back on her feet, her book leads one contemplating the terrible fates of other young women now moving to New York and falling into deadlier vocations. (
Han shot first… (Sorry, couldn’t resist.)