Some more reviews

I've spent the last few weeks enjoying a newly cleared library card and a resurgent interest in Netflix.

 

Naturally, I feel compelled to share my opinions of these books/movies with you.

 

Blue Screen, a Sunny Randall book  by Robert B. Parker was a decent read that overcame a weak plot and a stereotypical prostitute turned actress. What made the book sing for me was the brief (and largely inconsequential) baseball subplot involving a woman trying to break into the Major Leagues.

 

[On that note: my God are the Yanks having a bad start to the year. This might be the year they stay home in October, although it is far to early to make that call. On the other hand, despite a recent rough patch, the Brewers continue their lead in the NL Central. They've been fun to watch]

 

The Watchman by Robert Crais started slow for me, then picked up steam before ending on a sour note. I like Crais a lot, and his Elvis Cole and Joe Pike characters, but this had the feel of the awful Spenser novels from the 'breakup with Susan' era;  Rambo like invincibiltiy and a death every other page. Even so, I'd take a Crais novel over most reads any day.

 

Fair Ball by Bob Costas. This was an audiobook presented to me by my sister Katie, and it managed to overcome my natural distaste of the format to become the first audiobook I've ever completed. Costas is a heck of a writer, even if he would keel over if forced to use anything less than a $50 word. His plans are by and large outdated and ludicrous, full of sentimentality and crotchety ol' "Back in MY day' nostalgia that he tries in vain to distance himself from by arguing that he's just a logical, unemotional spectator. Uh-huh.

 

Pete Rose? Wrong. DH? Wrong. Wild Card? Wrong. Salary Cap on teams and players? Smacks of socialism when it's coming from Costas mouth.

 

Look, the guy loves the game. He just needs to get a grip on the fact that it really is a business, and anything 'more' is icing on the cake.

 

Scavenger by David Morell. Looking over these and other reviews, I always come across as a nitpicking no-it-all who seems to never truly enjoy anything. Nothing could be further from the truth, but at the risk of reinforcing the misconception . . I thought this was a piece of junk. The Amazon reviews don't think so, and the author blurbs are raving testimonials, but screw 'em all; they're wrong.  Like the last Morell book I read the plot is NOT - repeat is NOT - anything more than standard TV fare. The dialogue is awful, with people spouting detailed info in scenes where their characters should be silent or curt,and the majority of characters REEK of Red-shirts, folks put in the book just so there's someone to kill. Might I point out that the forced negativity between two of the male Redshirts was laughable, and should never have led down the road it did . . .

 

MOVIES:

 

Rocky Balboa, the 6th installment in the movie series, surprised me. It was actually quite good, full of nostalgia but with enough energy to propel the characters forward and not just tread water. Recommended.

 

Music and Lyrics - cute movie. I liked it, even if the ending was forced. Drew is . . well, Drew, and the less said the better. But Hugh Grant proves again to be that lovable bloke that I enjoy watching, and he does a marvelous job aping an '80's rock star. A fun couple movie.

 

Spider-Man 3 - I took YaYa to see this Monday and we were both bored. Too much going on in one movie, with Sandman, Venom, the black suit, and the New Goblin all fighting for screen time. Spidey's also fallen prey to the Superman syndrome, where you can beat him to your heart's content and he walks away with a torn costume and nary a scratch. He's pinned down and Venom takes a steel pipe to his head, and he's not only OK but able to talk and struggle? What????

To top it off, both Peter and MJ kiss other people, which was odd to see. And what bugged me the most is that I took my daughter to see a movie where Peter starts a fight in a bar and physically knocks his girlfriend to the ground (while under the influence of the symbiote). At the conclusion of the movie he walks into the same bar (what, no one yells 'hey, that's the guy who started the brawl! Call the cops") and she rushes over and kisses him.

Nice to teach kids it's ok to have your boyfriend wup on you, so long as he says sorry later.

I don't know. YaYa is fond of the Junie P. Jones books too, and that little girl leaves a lot to be desired as a role model. What a world.

 

Children of Men - an excellent Clive Owens movie based on the P.D. James novel. It is 2027 and for 18 years no child has been born on Earth . . until now. Not your typical Hollywood fare, but I liked it quite a bit and recommend it.