Single-Screenless in San Francisco

It’s a sad time for San Francisco cinema. The Roxie is at death’s door. But unlike the bailout in 2002, this time, it doesn’t look like it’s going to happen, unless some enterprising person gives Bill Banning $140,000 in the next 45 days.

This comes not long after the Coronet, the finest single-screen theatre for blockbusters, died a few months ago.

So what’s left? Well, I’ve never given the Castro a dime ever since the owners fired programmer Anita Monga last year and replaced the calendar with safe repertory programming. If the Roxie goes, the only decent single-screen theatres left will be the Balboa and the Red Vic.

Three single-screen theatres compromised in one year alone speaks ill of the future.

Top o’ the Morning

  • Paul Collins has unearthed a new scandal. It seems that author Misha Defonseca was denied royalties for her Holocaust memoir, Misha: A Memoir of the Holocaust Years. A state appeals court upheld a $22.5 million award to Defonseca and her ghostwriter, Vera Lee of Newton. The specific publisher was Mount Ivy Press, founded by Jane Daniel. The court docket for the case can be found here. While Judge Kantrowitz’s opinion is not yet posted, it appears that the judgment amount may have been amended. The question here is whether $22.5 million was genuinely withheld from the two writers or whether the damages might be punitive. (via Moby Lives)
  • Scott Esposito talks with Richard McCann.
  • If Bill Clinton’s memoir wasn’t plodding enough, the paperback version will have additional pages. But get this: the extra pages are being added to acknowledge the criticisms about length. Isn’t that a bit like lighting up a cigarette in front of a cancer patient after you’ve been repeatedly asked to put it out?
  • Apparently, David Cronenberg wasn’t even in the running for the Palme d’Or for his new film, A History of Violence. As a Cronenberg fan, I blame Toni Morrison.
  • The University of Texas, now in the business of withholding books and volumes from undergraduates, will be getting Norman Mailer’s archives. The archives will be shipped with a full-scale reproduction of Mailer’s ego for articulate Third Wave feminists to whittle down in a nanosecond.
  • The “dead white male” reading list debate has been revived on the East Coast. But it appears that some teachers may be playing the multicultural card because Great Expectations is too hard for some students to read and because dense books like Heart of Darkness can’t be taught by teachers, even after playing the film Apocalypse Now in class. One reading list replacement is John Irving’s A Prayer for Owen Meany. Irving is inarguably white and male and some might argue that he is dead on page.
  • A $53,609 check was awarded to Claire Tomkin, a 21 year old fiction writer. The Sophie Kerr Award is the largest undergraduate literary award in the nation.

So Long As Leonardo DiCapprio Isn’t Involved, We’re Happy

A new adaptation of Macbeth is in the works. But this one has some interesting casting. Jennifer Connelly, whose beauty and talent often causes me to curl up into a fetal position, will play Lady Macbeth and Philip Seymour Hoffmann will play the infamous murderer. Todd Luiso is attached to direct. The film promises to be “a different kind of Shakespeare”. But whether this means Baz Luhrmann bombast or West Side Story, it’s difficult to say. However, Luiso might be just the guy to do this, given that he previously directed a film adaptation of Tom Stoppard’s short play, The Fifteen Minute Hamlet. (via Romancing the Tome)

SF Sightings — Tayari Jones

It was a preternaturally sunny afternoon in the City. But that didn’t stop Scott and me from checking out Tayari Jones at A Clean, Well-Lighted Place for Books. Jones, who initially attracted my attention when I learned that her next-door neighbor was Richard Powers, was there for the final stop on her book tour to support her second novel, The Untelling. Told from the perspective of a young girl who copes with the effects of a car accident on a broken family in Atlanta, Jones started the novel almost immediately after her first novel, Leaving Atlanta.

tayarijones.jpgJones, who is 34, read two passages from the book: the first segment setting up the family in question and the second involving a revelation on Halloween night. She read in a warm and mellifluous voice that evoked the purity of childhood and young adulthood covered within the novel (and wasn’t bad at all for a first book tour out). JOnes had recently rebounded from a two-week bout with laryngitis. Apparently, she had been conducting her readings without drinking any water. When she was kind enough to sign my book to “Ed the Champion,” I urged Jones to drink more water while on the road.

Jones started writing The Untelling in 2000. It took three and a half years to finish, with the last fifty pages coming out of her during the last year. The novel emerged when she started thinking about home ownership, specifically with the often unspoken issue of single women assuming “house power.” Jones was curious about how families assume multiple debts to take on a house. Since she had turned thirty near the beginning of writing The Untelling, these thoughts, along with the marital ambition that often plagues people around twenty-nine, had her focusing her instincts into her novel. She pointed out that marriage often prevents people from asking about parents, because a married person, when asked about her life, can simply point to her spouse and avoid the question of parents and siblings altogether.

Jones said that she is working on a third novel “about bigamy” and didn’t reveal much. But she did point out that in order for bigamy to work, one family would have to be complicit.

Lauren Cerand has informed me that Jones has an opinion piece in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution about writing her first novel.

Tanenhaus Watch: May 22, 2005

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WEEKLY QUESTION: Will this week’s NYTBR reflect today’s literary and publishing climate? Or will editor Sam Tanenhaus demonstrate yet again that the NYTBR is irrelevant to today’s needs? If the former, a tasty brownie will be sent to Mr. Tanenhaus’ office. If the latter, the brownie will be denied.

When I saw this week’s cover with the NASCAR photo, I felt a sharp pain in my solar plexus. And it wasn’t just because Tanenhaus failed to capitalize all of the letters in NASCAR. (Yo, Sam, I’m about as uninterested in the Daytona 500 as the next guy, but even I know that NASCAR is an acronym for the National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing. This is about as absurd as referring to the Super Bowl as “the final Nfl matchup.”) The NASCAR book comparison, written by Jonathan Miles, isn’t a bad idea. But does it merit a cover review? Judging by the snide tone of Jonathan Miles’ review, the review favors snotty defensiveness rather than a genuinely interesting (and, dare I say it, inviting) exploration of the subject. Rather than indoctrinating a reader unfamiliar with NASCAR about the appeal, Miles opts instead for a red state/blue state divisiveness that is becoming as deeply cloying in today’s journalism as any reference to post-9/11 guilt, as if he genuinely believed that all blue staters equate watching the Daytona 500 with voting for Bush.

More egregiously, the “review,” if it can be called that, spends half of its length bogged down in tired rhetroric and unfounded generalizations (the only literary detractor Miles can dig up is Tom Wolfe and the essay cited is from 1965) before finally getting to the two books in question. There are laughable comparisons to commuter traffic and not a single reference to the pit area (where people perform incredible overhauls and refueling on a car between laps; when have you seen that during rush hour?).

Eventually, things get a little interesting (if not book-specific) with a cursory overview of Curtis Turner’s life. But not before Miles voices further contempt about NASCAR’s potential future, equating it to Elvis dying on the toilet. If Miles had even bothered to do any research, a quick look at NASCAR demographics would have turne up the following for him:

  • More than half of all NASCAR watchers earn between $30-75,000, a far cry from the NASCAR fans who “drive to the 7-Eleven to pick up a pack of smokes.”
  • 40.1% of all NASCAR fans have attended college.
  • In fact, there isn’t all that much in a disparity by region as the Southern picture painted by Miles. 38% of NASCAR fans are based in the South, but 35% of America lives into the house. 3% is hardly a figure substantial enough to invite stereotypes.
  • Between 1999 and 2002, Hispanic and African-American audiences for NASCAR have notably increased. Hispanics went from 3.6% to 8.6% of the fan base while African-Americans went from 4.9% to 9.1% of the fan base.

For wasting his space on such stereotypical assaults, encouraging such lazy generalizations, and blowing an opportunity to represent an area of publishing that might be of interest to the NYTBR‘s readers, there can be no other recourse than the Brownie Bitchslap Factor.

BROWNIE BITCHSLAP FACTOR: Two and a half pages devoted to this nonsense? What were you thinking, Sam? SLAP! (Minus 1.2 points)

THE COLUMN-INCH TEST:

Fiction Reviews: Six half-page reviews, two one-page reviews, a one-page Crime roundup, a one-page Fiction Chronicle. (Total books: 16. Total pages: 7.)

Non-Fiction Reviews: One 2.5 page review, one two-page review (Hitch, go figure), seven one-page reviews, four half-page reviews. (Total books: 14. Total page: 13.5 pages.)

No surprise. This is Tanenhaus on autopilot. With nonfiction coverage dwarfing fiction at an almost 2:1 ratio, this is disgraceful. Half-page reviews of today’s fiction, with the only one-page reviews going to Chuck P (who, with all his press, may as well be relegated to a half-page review) and Ann Beattie. 34% doesn’t cut it, Sam.

Brownie Point: DENIED!

THE HARD-ON TEST:

This test concerns the ratio of male to female writers writing for the NYTBR.

Thirteen male reviewers (with two of them getting at least two pages), with a mere ten female reviewers, most of them kept cooking and cleaning with thankless fiction blurbs.

This is a remarkable slip from last week and one that deserves zero tolerance.

Brownie Point: DENIED!

THE QUIRKY PAIR-UP TEST:

Now this, I must say is a nice move: Francine Prose weighs in on the overhyped Oh the Glory Of It All. Even if there is a typo on the web version’s headline, Prose is relatively fair on the book’s merits while getting in a playfully sarcastic opening paragaph.

Christopher Hitchens takes The John Hopkins Guide to Liteary Theory and Criticism to task for its obfuscatory stance on the language to be found in literary criticism.

Unfortunately, all this is thrown to the well when one considers the Walter Kirn’s review of Everything Bad is Good for You, or rather the way that Kirn has, in his work for the NYTBR continually stopped short of making a compelling and thoughtful point. Instead of explaining why Steven Johnson’s argument is persuasive to him (despite being empirical), Kirn makes the mistake of making Johnson’s claims more dubious and throwing in two references to Kojak to boot.

But the quirky mix is remotely interesting to get by.

Brownie Point: EARNED!

CONTENT CONCERNS:

[The NYT site is down this afternoon. I’ll weigh in on this later.]

CONCLUSIONS:

Brownie Points Denied: 2
Brownie Points Earned: 1
Brownie Bitchslap Factor: -1.2 points
TOTAL BROWNIE POINTS REQUIRED FOR BROWNIE DELIVERY: 2
TOTAL BROWNIE POINTS EARNED: -.2 points

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