Kat’s Film and Book Reviews

The Hanging Woods

By Scott Loring Sanders

Houghton Mifflin, 2008

Image courtesy of Houghton Mifflin.com

The Hanging Woods is the story of three friends, boys hanging out together in the summer before they begin high school.  The story is narrated in first person by Walter, who, we learn in the first chapter, has read his mother’s diary and learned a secret.  The knowledge of the existence of that secret—though not the content of it—drifts in and out of the book, not revealed until the end, when it serves in some ways to tie the events of the story together.  We also learned that Walter has killed a fox by bludgeoning it with a stick—a rite of passage that taught him not only respect for life, but the thrill of controlling it.  The act and the secret become tied together as the book progresses.

Walter’s two best friends are Jimmy and Mothball.  At first glance, Jimmy is the rougher, more angry of the boys, Mothball is the weaker of the three, and Walter spends much of his time mediating between the two.  Jimmy goads the boys into more and more dangerous activities, and the other two follow along reluctantly.  Jimmy seems to be the one driven most by his anger, but that is a bit of a red herring to direct us away from some other things that are going on under the surface.

It’s hard to know how to talk about this book any further without giving away the big reveal at the end.  Nobody is quite what they seem, and everybody has secrets…some of them revealed far too late.  But the fact is, it wouldn’t have mattered when Walter came to know the rest of the story,” because Walter isn’t all that he presents himself be.  Walter doesn’t do the things he does because of a lack of information.

The story, set in Alabama in 1975, has some intriguing elements, such as a homeless young Vietnam veteran everyone calls the Troll, some racial tension and the free use of the N word, intelligent law enforcement officers (a nice switch, since cops usually get a bad rap in youth fiction), murder, rape, sexual abuse, alcoholism, psychosis, and Mothball’s attempt to get into the Guiness Book of World Records by keeping a headless turkey alive longer than the previous record holder had done.

What fascinated me most was the use of the unreliable first person narrator.  Walter has created an alternative reality that is sometimes questioned by his companions, but never by Walter or the reader.  It’s not until the end that we realize how far things are from the way Walter has told us they are.  It’s fascinating, but it made me shudder, too.

I finished this book in one evening…an evening that didn’t end until nearly 3 a.m., because I couldn’t put it down.  It’s extremely compelling, with the consequences of actions playing out in horrifyingly unpredicted ways, and small mistakes spiraling into deadly results.  When I finally finished, I’m not sure I can say I had that satisfied feeling that comes with finishing a book.  I was disturbed, shocked, and a little confused.

But I thought about it for days afterward, so maybe the story did what it was intended to do.  It doesn’t coddle the reader, but it sure does keep the reader thinking.

I did tell my 8^th grader that I wasn’t sure she should read it.  I would recommend it for high schoolers.

Image courtesy of publispain.com

2004 was the year that everyone was surprised to see this quirky little film on the Oscar nominations list.  It deserved each of the six technical nominations it got.  But this film was more than just technically good; it truly deserved its place on that Best Picture list.  Even with a respectable slate of nominations for Adapted Screenplay, Art Direction, Cinematography, Sound Mixing, Costumes, and Editing (all but one of which, Cinematography, it lost to Return of the King) where were the nominations for Best Director, or Best Actor or Best Supporting Actor?

I realize that this was the year of the Return of the King (many of whose actors were also overlooked).  I’m a fan of the LOTR trilogy, so I can’t begrudge them any awards, but I’m indignant on behalf of Seabiscuit, which is really much more than it seems at first glance.

Set against the backdrop of the depression, director Gary Ross tries hard—sometimes too hard—to parallel the story of the horse nobody wanted with the story of poor workers that nobody seems to want, either.  It’s an effective parallel most of the time, even if it’s handled with inconsistency—sometimes we’re hit over the head with it, and sometimes it’s ignored.  But the parallel works to lay the background for the public’s investment in the little-horse-that-could, the equine David challenging the Goliaths of the racing world.

Far more important than the bad-horse-turned-good-and-giving-hope-to-the-nation story is the other parallel—the one about a boy who, like this horse, is struggling to find his place in the world.  Tobey Maguire plays jockey Johnny “Red” Pollard as a little guy with a huge chip on his shoulder.  He’s antagonistic and hostile, and his temper gets the best of him more than once.  When he’s not able to support himself by working with horses, he enters boxing matches in which he routinely gets beaten to a pulp, leading eventually to blindness in his right eye.

One of the more moving scenes in the film takes place through the eyes of Tom Smith, Seabiscuit’s trainer (Chris Cooper in a follow-up performance to his Oscar winning role in 2003’s Adaptation), in which from one eye we see a group of men trying to subdue the wild Seabiscuit, and from the other eye we see a group of boys trying to beat up a wild Red.  The parallel is clear, and from that moment on, Tom uses Red as Seabiscuit’s jockey.

The film avoids the common error of making the horse a centerpiece of the narrative; Seabiscuit is simply a prop, a device, as he should be.  The hero of this film is scarred and scrappy Red Pollard.  Red’s journey from explosive hostility born of pain to self-control and emotional openness is the central point of the story.  He never quite loses that intense, aggressive edge, and we don’t want him to.  He can deliver poetry or Shakespeare with an incisive and wounding sharpness, especially in moments where he feels he’s been betrayed by those he’s allowed himself to care about.

This is by far the edgiest and most complex role Maguire has played, and the refusal of the Academy to acknowledge it, while giving the nod to the film itself, was misguided.

Another golden performance was given by Chris Cooper, as Tom Smith.  He’s wise and determined, the voice of fatherly wisdom not only to young Red, but to Charles, Seabiscuit’s wealthy owner, played by Jeff Bridges.  Tom’s got a temper, to be sure, and some of the best scenes are the ones where Tom goes head-to-head with Red, with Charles playing referee between his two employees. The film is as much about the relationship between Tom and Red as anything else, with some added-on emoting by Bridges.  Bridges is always the same character in his films; fortunately, it’s a lovable and charming character, so we don’t mind spending time with him.

A good supporting cast rounded out the narrative.  Elizabeth Banks is good as Charles’ competitive young wife, and William H. Macy delights as Tick-Tock McGlaughlin, the erstwhile racing announcer.  Eddie Jones is a sufficiently unpleasant nemesis in his Lionel Barrymore-esque role as the rich and powerful Riddle.  Extra stars go to real-life jockey Gary Stevens, playing fellow jockey and friend George Wolfe, who challenges and supports Red whether he likes it or not.  All in all, this was a strong, well-told story that deserved more attention than it got.  But I guess the lesson we learn from Seabiscuit is that quality isn’t always measured in prizes.

The Difficult Child, by Stanley Turecki, MD

Raising Your Spirited Child: A Guide for Parents Whose Child is More—Intense, Sensitive, Perceptive, Persistent, Energetic, by Mary Sheedy Kurcinka

I am reviewing these books together because they are written on the same issue—the challenges of raising challenging children. Both authors, practitioners and scholars in their field, use the same behavior theory in discussing behavior, and both give similar guidance in living with children with these behaviors. In brief, they talk about a child’s temperament, the way his or her personality is wired, and how that basic temperament is a neutral quality. A child cannot help his emotional wiring, and should not be blamed to punished for being that way. Most parents can relate to this; each of us, I am sure, has noticed something our child has consistently done or a reaction they always have, and said, “You know, she’s always been that way.”

Behaviors, however, are a different matter. No matter what a child’s temperament is like, some behaviors are not acceptable, and many of these behaviors seem to go hand in hand with certain temperaments. Each of these authors offers practical suggestions on how to address behaviors in children of different challenging temperaments, and how to notice those same qualities in ourselves. This is extremely helpful when dealing with a child who might be hard to understand. You can’t help being an introvert, you know how you get when your plans get changed at the last minute, you realize that your intensity is both a bane and a blessing. This self-examination, recommended by both authors, can open the readers’ eyes to what their children are dealing with internally, since children often inherit temperamental traits from their parents.

The differences between the books are really a matter of the reader’s stye. Each one offers similar information and guidance. You may prefer to call your child “spirited,” or you may have no illusions about your kid’s difficult traits. The Turecki book is a bit more scholarly, and is endorsed by other scholars in the field, including Dr. Stella Chess, one of the doctors who ran the pioneering decades-long study on temperament in people. The Kurcinka book is more chatty, and includes some of her sessions with a parents’ support group, so she is chronicling the real life experiences of people you get to know—one m\or more of whom is likely something like the reader. Both authors stress the dignity of the child, though Kurcinka puts more emphasis on avoiding labels and exploring the positive aspects of your child’s temperament. One of the best things about both of these books is that the reader is brought to see that their children’s difficult personality traits also have a good side. In fact, they’re often the things we love most about our kids.

Since every human being has an inborn, unchangeable temperament, these books would be useful for parents whose kids wouldn’t fall into the “difficult” or “spirited” categories. They’re not bad for taking a good look at ourselves, either.

It’s real this time.  The brave 57-year-old actor who has been suffering from pancreatic cancer for two years, passed away this evening in Los Angeles, surrounded by his wife and family.  Rumors have followed him, often announcing his death prematurely, since his cancer was diagnosed 20 months ago, but Swayze continued to work, even while he was in rigorous traditional and alternative treatments for his disease.

I wondered if we were in his last days…and I know this will sound weird, but it’s because I saw a picture of him in a supermarket tabloid the other day.  The tabloids are the only ones that will tell us things like that–they did the same thing with Paul Newman just before his death–and they were right.  I admired so much the way Swayze was always realistic about his disease, but it didn’t let it stop him from doing whatever he could handle, including filming an entire season of a new TV show in which he was the Star (A&E’s The Beast).

I’m really sad to see him go; he was such an important figure for people who grew up in the 80’s.  He was Darry, everyone’s older brother, and he was Johnny Castle, the dancing rebel from Dirty Dancing.  He was the one whose fingers entwined with Demi Moore’s in the most erotic pottery session ever.   Perhaps most iconically, he was the one who announced “It’s my way, or the highway.”

For the people who knew him and loved him, he was, of course, so much more than that.  He was married to his wife, Lisa, for 34 years, and she was by his side through the ups and downs of his acting career, his rehab for alcoholism, and his good and bad days of cancer treatment.  She was by his side this evening as he left this life for the next.

Go with God, Patrick. Thank you for the good years.  Our prayers are with Lisa and all your friends and family.