1970’s literary departure. Robertson Davies’ Fifth Business. The first of his Deptford Trilogy. Pre-WW I through WW II, the evolution of small-town Canadians’ intertwined lives. Sullen narrative with prosaic nuggets.
MarchVanityFair. Rupert Murdoch’s ex-Wendi Deng story. Riveting. Scientology scion wife mystery. Intriguing. How does General Hospital get away with calling its resident nut house ‘Miscavige Hospital for the Criminally Insane’? Hilarious.
Downton finale. Already? SoapOpera digested. Mary has become insufferable as she commands her two suitors to spar for her hand. At least she didn’t spill the beans on Bates. An uneven season ends with royal romance, avenged violation, new baby on the landscape. The Levinson’s tour portends tremors to come. Hughes-Carson liaison doesn’t quite resonate. We wait for Barrow’s next move.
Life of Pisces. Best astrological season. Winter waning. Spring nigh. Snirt melt. End of Feb. Happy 88th to Betsey Strahl. Birthday brunch at Anthony Bourdain’s Brasserie Les Halles. Steak frites. Flatiron fun for all.
Remember that Turkish guy who died in Mary’s bed? TV’s new Golden Boy. Theo James. James Dean meets James Franco. Whoa. Another British actor takes America. When I think of Golden Boy, it’s the 60’s Broadway show. Starring Sammy Davis and Lola Falana with Daddy Joe.
SoHo’s finest, Lure Fishbar. Tried and true. Go fishes!
Downton out. Killing off cast faster than General Hospital. Heartwarming liaisons formed. Baby boy born. Happy. And then, poof. No more Matthew. Speaking of silly, GH bringing geezer couples (Luke&Laura) back. Fast-forward.
Woodward smacks down Rove on Fox! Bob looked at Karl and told him he’s writing a book called, Some People Never Go Away. Priceless. McCain and Graham non-stop steaming as Obama and Woods tee off together. Hope Tiger doesn’t take Prez “out” while Michelle and girls are skiing in Aspen. Dangerous.
Sweet to meet the lovely and captivating Lilly Leigh at La Fiorentina.
Another visit to my favorite Bryant barn in winter. Thanks Dr.Photog.
Fellowes’ Downton is sliding into daytime telly contrivances. This longer episode was packed with one-line zingers, though less story substance. The classes become more muddled as they all ready for a game of cricket. Bates’ whisper of “soap” to O’Brien, gives terrible Thomas a reprieve. He’ll stay around to stir the hornet’s nest, but the evil witch is finally muffled. For now. Lord Grantham’s political correctness is an anachronism at best. He’s my favorite nonetheless.
Sybil’s Tom has climbed upstairs with ease. Even Carson approves of his exemplary behavior. Edith’s editor is a younger version of her fey old beau. Is there another jilt in her future? The hackneyed wife-in-the-asylum plot. Next week season finale. Already? Too much TV. Monday workout, here I go.
Downton experiences the effects of Sybil’s legacy. She single-handedly shook the Abbey’s foundation, tearing down its walls of gender, class, and religion before taking her leave. LadyS was loved and respected Upstairs and Downstairs.
Dowager Countess leads the pack. Her barbs are back. It does seem a shame to waste a good pudding. Carson will be the last hold-out to tradition. Dr. Clarkson swallowed his pride to heal broken hearts. Truth is not always the best medicine.
There’s a pall over Downton Abbey as we greet Season 3. Despite our long-awaited anticipation of a lavish, happy wedding, it quickly turns into a bittersweet affair with everyone pocketing morsels of joy where they could. Shirley Maclaine pulls off the nouveau riche American pretty well and brings a level of levity to the cliché. Maggie Smith’s pallor mirrored the downbeat mood, and her jibes didn’t rise to their usual hilarity. So, the contrast of wits was lacking.
Upstairs, the men held the higher moral ground. While, it was the women’s strength of character that dominated Downstairs. In the end, it’s an uppity soap opera. There will be bumps along the road. Still, glad it’s back.