newyorker--2020-02-06--In Honoring Rush Limbaugh, Trump Celebrated Racial Division

How does a racist run for reëlection ?
Even more complicated , how does a candidate “ consolidate the base ” and , at the same time , lure just enough voters of color to make a difference in a close Presidential race ?
In 1986 , I spent weeks travelling with and reporting on Lee Atwater , George H. W. Bush ’ s theatrically down-home political consultant and a veteran of race-baiting political wars , particularly in the South .
Atwater fancied himself a scholar of political history , particularly the history of campaigns and demagoguery—a tool he was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ his clients .
He encouraged me to read his “ Bible , ” T. Harry Williams ’ s biography of Huey Long .
Before signing on with Bush , Atwater had run some ugly campaigns , and yet he knew the game was changing , if only in its surface courtesies .
In 1981 , he described with a certain obscene precision the shifting mores of the race card and how to deal it .
“ You start out , in 1954 , by saying , ‘ Nigger , nigger , nigger , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ By 1968 , you can ’ t say ‘ nigger ’ —that hurts you , backfires .
So , you say stuff like , uh , forced bussing , states ’ rights , and all that stuff , and you ’ re getting so abstract .
Now , you ’ re talking about cutting taxes , and all these things you ’ re talking about are totally economic things and a byproduct of them is , blacks get hurt worse than whites.
” Forgive the language .
Such was Atwater ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the shift from the bald racist language of mid-century politics to the coded racist language of late century and beyond .
George H. W. Bush thought of himself as being above such ugliness , but Atwater was not reluctant to press on him the tactics he believed were necessary for victory .
It was Atwater who , in the 1988 Presidential campaign , helped conceive of the famous Willie Horton ad that sought to depict Michael Dukakis , the former governor of Massachusetts , as a weak-on-crime sap foolish enough to let an @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on furlough so that he could commit mayhem again .
“ By the time we ’ re finished , ” Atwater said at the time , “ they ’ re going to wonder whether Willie Horton is Dukakis ’ s running mate.
” As I watched Rush Limbaugh receive the Medal of Freedom from Donald Trump during the State of the Union grotesqueries on Tuesday night , it was hard not to think of Lee Atwater , the continuing tradition of race-baiting , and how it infects our debased politics .
Limbaugh is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on his daily radio program , has been diagnosed with late-stage lung cancer .
Empathy is due to anyone who is suffering .
But not high honors , not a celebration of a life ’ s work devoted to the mockery and derision of the Other .
For the President of the United States to bestow one of the nation ’ s highest laurels on Limbaugh is a morally corrosive and politically cynical act .
It is a kind of assault on the achievements of so many previous award winners , a list @ @ @ @ @ @ @ King , Jr. , Václav Havel , Rosa Parks , and John Lewis .
It is appalling to see Rush Limbaugh ’ s name listed alongside theirs .
Limbaugh is hardly an American original .
He derives from a line of radio bigots like Father Coughlin , who made racism into a form of demagogic entertainment .
Subsequent call-in haranguers like Joe Pyne and Bob Grant were major broadcast figures years before Limbaugh .
But no one before or since has reached audiences that match the scale of Limbaugh ’ s .
And @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s hateful insults is as thick as a Russian novel : in 2004 , Limbaugh said the N.B.A .
might be renamed the T.B.A.— “ the Thug Basketball Association , and stop calling them teams .
Call ’ em gangs.
” A few years later , he hosted the conservative political satirist Paul Shanklin , who sang “ Barack , the Magic Negro ” to the tune of “ Puff , the Magic Dragon.
” The N.F.L .
“ all too often looks like a game between the Bloods and the Crips without @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The women ’ s movement is something he admired “ from behind.
” In 1989 , Limbaugh cut off unwanted callers with what he called “ caller abortions ” —and his engineer would set off a tape of a loud vacuum followed by a prolonged scream .
The quotations are endless , outrageous , and readily available .
Over many years , Limbaugh has played a distinct role in the radicalization of the Republican Party and the conservative movement .
He is a satirist , but one who has always tended to hit @ @ @ @ @ @ @ profit in disdaining the disadvantaged , the Other .
William F. Buckley ’ s National Review put Limbaugh on the cover in 1993 and called him “ The Leader of the Opposition.
” Ronald Reagan , who knew when to signal support of states ’ rights and his disdain for “ welfare queens ” to his own advantage , wrote Limbaugh a letter , saying , “ Now that I ’ ve retired from active politics , I don ’ t mind that you have become the Number One voice for conservatism in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ up the good work.
” In 1992 , George H. W. Bush invited Limbaugh to stay overnight at the White House and carried Limbaugh ’ s bag for him to the Lincoln Bedroom .
( Limbaugh ’ s fellow-guest that night was Roger Ailes , a kindred spirit . )
Most leading conservatives have overlooked Limbaugh ’ s racist trespasses in order to curry his favor .
His scorn , and the scorn of his most loyal fans , carried a high political price .
There is a certain Trumpian cast to Limbaugh @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of the élite who made his political name and gained political power by aligning himself with the currents of white resentment .
Limbaugh was born and raised in Cape Girardeau , Missouri .
His grandfather was an attorney who served in the Missouri House of Representatives and as an envoy to India during the Eisenhower Administration .
His father was a county Republican chairman and a lawyer .
Just as Trump avoided Vietnam by claiming to have bone spurs in his foot ( it ’ s never been clear which foot ) , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ abnormal growth on his backside—a pilonidal cyst .
And yet Limbaugh righteously mocked Bill Clinton , in 1992 , for avoiding the draft .

How does a racist run for reëlection? Even more complicated, how does a candidate “consolidate the base” and, at the same time, lure just enough voters of color to make a difference in a close Presidential race?
In 1986, I spent weeks travelling with and reporting on Lee Atwater, George H. W. Bush’s theatrically down-home political consultant and a veteran of race-baiting political wars, particularly in the South. Atwater fancied himself a scholar of political history, particularly the history of campaigns and demagoguery—a tool he was not slow to employ or foist on his clients. He encouraged me to read his “Bible,” T. Harry Williams’s biography of Huey Long. Before signing on with Bush, Atwater had run some ugly campaigns, and yet he knew the game was changing, if only in its surface courtesies. In 1981, he described with a certain obscene precision the shifting mores of the race card and how to deal it. “You start out, in 1954, by saying, ‘Nigger, nigger, nigger,’ ” he told an interviewer. “By 1968, you can’t say ‘nigger’—that hurts you, backfires. So, you say stuff like, uh, forced bussing, states’ rights, and all that stuff, and you’re getting so abstract. Now, you’re talking about cutting taxes, and all these things you’re talking about are totally economic things and a byproduct of them is, blacks get hurt worse than whites.”
Forgive the language. Such was Atwater’s ugly, unvarnished sense of things, the shift from the bald racist language of mid-century politics to the coded racist language of late century and beyond. George H. W. Bush thought of himself as being above such ugliness, but Atwater was not reluctant to press on him the tactics he believed were necessary for victory. It was Atwater who, in the 1988 Presidential campaign, helped conceive of the famous Willie Horton ad that sought to depict Michael Dukakis, the former governor of Massachusetts, as a weak-on-crime sap foolish enough to let an incarcerated man—a black man, of course—out on furlough so that he could commit mayhem again. “By the time we’re finished,” Atwater said at the time, “they’re going to wonder whether Willie Horton is Dukakis’s running mate.”
As I watched Rush Limbaugh receive the Medal of Freedom from Donald Trump during the State of the Union grotesqueries on Tuesday night, it was hard not to think of Lee Atwater, the continuing tradition of race-baiting, and how it infects our debased politics.
Limbaugh is sixty-nine and, as he just announced on his daily radio program, has been diagnosed with late-stage lung cancer. Empathy is due to anyone who is suffering. But not high honors, not a celebration of a life’s work devoted to the mockery and derision of the Other. For the President of the United States to bestow one of the nation’s highest laurels on Limbaugh is a morally corrosive and politically cynical act. It is a kind of assault on the achievements of so many previous award winners, a list that includes Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King, Jr., Václav Havel, Rosa Parks, and John Lewis. It is appalling to see Rush Limbaugh’s name listed alongside theirs.
Limbaugh is hardly an American original. He derives from a line of radio bigots like Father Coughlin, who made racism into a form of demagogic entertainment. Subsequent call-in haranguers like Joe Pyne and Bob Grant were major broadcast figures years before Limbaugh. But no one before or since has reached audiences that match the scale of Limbaugh’s. And the Bartlett’s of Limbaugh’s hateful insults is as thick as a Russian novel: in 2004, Limbaugh said the N.B.A. might be renamed the T.B.A.—“the Thug Basketball Association, and stop calling them teams. Call ’em gangs.” A few years later, he hosted the conservative political satirist Paul Shanklin, who sang “Barack, the Magic Negro” to the tune of “Puff, the Magic Dragon.” The N.F.L. “all too often looks like a game between the Bloods and the Crips without any weapons,” he said. The women’s movement is something he admired “from behind.” In 1989, Limbaugh cut off unwanted callers with what he called “caller abortions”—and his engineer would set off a tape of a loud vacuum followed by a prolonged scream. The quotations are endless, outrageous, and readily available.
Highlights from President Trump’s State of the Union address.
Over many years, Limbaugh has played a distinct role in the radicalization of the Republican Party and the conservative movement. He is a satirist, but one who has always tended to hit down; he has always found immense profit in disdaining the disadvantaged, the Other. William F. Buckley’s National Review put Limbaugh on the cover in 1993 and called him “The Leader of the Opposition.” Ronald Reagan, who knew when to signal support of states’ rights and his disdain for “welfare queens” to his own advantage, wrote Limbaugh a letter, saying, “Now that I’ve retired from active politics, I don’t mind that you have become the Number One voice for conservatism in our Country. . . . Keep up the good work.” In 1992, George H. W. Bush invited Limbaugh to stay overnight at the White House and carried Limbaugh’s bag for him to the Lincoln Bedroom. (Limbaugh’s fellow-guest that night was Roger Ailes, a kindred spirit.) Most leading conservatives have overlooked Limbaugh’s racist trespasses in order to curry his favor. His scorn, and the scorn of his most loyal fans, carried a high political price.
There is a certain Trumpian cast to Limbaugh’s biography, a coddled son of the élite who made his political name and gained political power by aligning himself with the currents of white resentment. Limbaugh was born and raised in Cape Girardeau, Missouri. His grandfather was an attorney who served in the Missouri House of Representatives and as an envoy to India during the Eisenhower Administration. His father was a county Republican chairman and a lawyer. Just as Trump avoided Vietnam by claiming to have bone spurs in his foot (it’s never been clear which foot), Limbaugh achieved his 1-Y classification with an abnormal growth on his backside—a pilonidal cyst. And yet Limbaugh righteously mocked Bill Clinton, in 1992, for avoiding the draft.


newyorker--2020-02-06--The Visceral Satisfactions of a Disabled Photographer’s Gaze

Toward the end of his junior year of college , Joey Solomon contracted a fever of a hundred and three degrees .
When it didn ’ t subside after several weeks , his parents retrieved him from his apartment , in Brooklyn , and rushed him to a health center near their family home , in Queens .
Solomon spent the next month under the study of ultrasound technicians and surgical oncologists , who found an oblong tumor stuck to his sciatic nerve .
The suddenness of this discovery stunned him .
An art student at the time , Solomon @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s final classes with what he thought was a bad cold .
At the hospital , he documented indistinguishable days of treatment with a camera .
“ Sometimes the nurses would scold me and say , ‘ Put it away , ’ ” Solomon told me recently .
“ And sometimes they ’ d pity me and see I needed a distraction.
” A portrait from that summer shows Solomon on the creased sheets of a gurney , pale and supine , his flesh festooned in tubing and his fingers clinching the wires @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Solomon was by then too weak to hold his camera , so he asked his father to take the shot .
By the time he was released , two months later , he could no longer walk .

Toward the end of his junior year of college, Joey Solomon contracted a fever of a hundred and three degrees. When it didn’t subside after several weeks, his parents retrieved him from his apartment, in Brooklyn, and rushed him to a health center near their family home, in Queens. Solomon spent the next month under the study of ultrasound technicians and surgical oncologists, who found an oblong tumor stuck to his sciatic nerve. The suddenness of this discovery stunned him. An art student at the time, Solomon had sat out of the term’s final classes with what he thought was a bad cold.
At the hospital, he documented indistinguishable days of treatment with a camera. “Sometimes the nurses would scold me and say, ‘Put it away,’ ” Solomon told me recently. “And sometimes they’d pity me and see I needed a distraction.” A portrait from that summer shows Solomon on the creased sheets of a gurney, pale and supine, his flesh festooned in tubing and his fingers clinching the wires of a pair of white earbuds. Solomon was by then too weak to hold his camera, so he asked his father to take the shot. By the time he was released, two months later, he could no longer walk.


newyorker--2020-02-06--Job-Interview Questions They’re Dying to Ask You

Are your palms always this sweaty ?
Do you really not want a bottle of water , or do you have some outdated notion that accepting the bottle and getting much-needed hydration would make you look weak ?
Why is the résumé you just handed me so damp ?
I mean , I know why , but , still—why ?
Can you tell me a little bit about yourself ?
In the most concise but relevant way possible , please ?
I ’ m not Robert Caro , and I ’ m barely taking notes about your time at whatever @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I guess I ’ ll have to Google it .
Did you read “ The Power Broker ” ?
Because I did .
Got that ?
Also , what are your salary requirements ?
If you ’ re so “ proficient ” in Microsoft Word , then why is this résumé formatted like a takeout menu from that restaurant which I know gave me food poisoning but I somehow can ’ t quit ?
I don ’ t know what they ’ re imitating crab with , but it sure is hit-or-miss .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ Can you tell that I ’ m thinking about food right now ?
Normally , in cartoons , it only takes a couple of seconds for the one character to realize that the other is seeing his head as a giant turkey leg , so I should really try to keep my mind on something else .
Oh , right .
You .
What ’ s your biggest weakness ?
And if it ’ s not being clammy and underqualified , woof .
Are you comfortable with there being an office dog ?
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ but I couldn ’ t think of anything else to ask .
Plus , I like dogs .
It would be so awesome if there were one running around this place—I bet it would bark at Brad all of the time .
God , I hate that guy .
Always telling me to get back to work .
Why would I want to do that ?
We don ’ t even have an office dog .
Why do you want to work for our company ?
I figure it ’ s probably just @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a pep talk about wasting the best days of my life working here when I could be reading “ Working , ” by my man Bobby C. , at some outdoor café while pondering which bureaucrat I ’ m going to biograph next .
If we do hire you , you ’ re not going to decorate your desk with those big-headed Funko dolls with the bulging eyes that always give me the feeling that they ’ re watching me and they don ’ t like what they see , right ?
Really @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I demand to know right now .
It ’ s bad enough that I have Brad peering over my shoulder all day .
Do you have any questions for me ?
Sorry , buddy , but it ’ s time for the me show .
I ’ m about to blow your mind with riveting responses detailing how I started out at this company in an internship that I got because I lied about Morgan Stanley being my uncle and , even though no one believed me , the hiring manager felt bad @ @ @ @ @ @ @ gig .
I ’ m also going to let you in on exciting plans I have with regard to getting the company to pay for a standing desk that I ’ ll end up putting a chair in front of within a week .
Where do you see yourself in five minutes ?
Because that ’ s really not that far away—I ’ ll have to risk ordering lunch in , so that I don ’ t run into you on the street .
Would you consider wearing a pair of statement gloves @ @ @ @ @ @ @ sweat but they might make you more memorable—in a good way .
Well , a better way .
How can I get out of interviewing anyone else today ?
Don ’ t let me down , Krab Bowlz , please— Were my palms always this sweaty ?
Oops .

Are your palms always this sweaty?
Do you really not want a bottle of water, or do you have some outdated notion that accepting the bottle and getting much-needed hydration would make you look weak?
Why is the résumé you just handed me so damp? I mean, I know why, but, still—why?
Can you tell me a little bit about yourself? In the most concise but relevant way possible, please? I’m not Robert Caro, and I’m barely taking notes about your time at whatever kind of a company Alphabet is. I guess I’ll have to Google it.
Did you read “The Power Broker”? Because I did. Got that? Also, what are your salary requirements?
If you’re so “proficient” in Microsoft Word, then why is this résumé formatted like a takeout menu from that restaurant which I know gave me food poisoning but I somehow can’t quit? I don’t know what they’re imitating crab with, but it sure is hit-or-miss. Man, I’m hungry.
Can you tell that I’m thinking about food right now? Normally, in cartoons, it only takes a couple of seconds for the one character to realize that the other is seeing his head as a giant turkey leg, so I should really try to keep my mind on something else. Oh, right. You. What’s your biggest weakness? And if it’s not being clammy and underqualified, woof.
Are you comfortable with there being an office dog? We don’t have one, but I couldn’t think of anything else to ask. Plus, I like dogs. It would be so awesome if there were one running around this place—I bet it would bark at Brad all of the time. God, I hate that guy. Always telling me to get back to work. Why would I want to do that? We don’t even have an office dog.
Why do you want to work for our company? I figure it’s probably just the money, but I could use a pep talk about wasting the best days of my life working here when I could be reading “Working,” by my man Bobby C., at some outdoor café while pondering which bureaucrat I’m going to biograph next.
If we do hire you, you’re not going to decorate your desk with those big-headed Funko dolls with the bulging eyes that always give me the feeling that they’re watching me and they don’t like what they see, right? Really, any doll-related plans you have, I demand to know right now. It’s bad enough that I have Brad peering over my shoulder all day.
Do you have any questions for me? Sorry, buddy, but it’s time for the me show. I’m about to blow your mind with riveting responses detailing how I started out at this company in an internship that I got because I lied about Morgan Stanley being my uncle and, even though no one believed me, the hiring manager felt bad enough for me to give me the gig. I’m also going to let you in on exciting plans I have with regard to getting the company to pay for a standing desk that I’ll end up putting a chair in front of within a week.
Where do you see yourself in five minutes? Because that’s really not that far away—I’ll have to risk ordering lunch in, so that I don’t run into you on the street.
Would you consider wearing a pair of statement gloves? Not only could they absorb your sweat but they might make you more memorable—in a good way. Well, a better way.
How can I get out of interviewing anyone else today? Don’t let me down, Krab Bowlz, please—
Were my palms always this sweaty? Oops.


newyorker--2020-02-07--Mafia-Movie Characters You Won’t Be Hearing From Again After the Nostalgic Intro Voice-Over

“ Sal was the owner and sole proprietor of Sal ’ s Salumeria Salata , but , to us kids , he was more like Santa Claus .
We ’ d drop by after school , and Sal would say , ‘ Wait , bambinos , I got a little something for you in the back.
’ Then he ’ d disappear for a sec and return with a special treat he ’ d pop right in our mouths—garlic knots , cannoli , cheesecloth , antifreeze , long rows of industrial staples—just whatever Sal had on hand that was fresh @ @ @ @ @ @ @ asked .
In retrospect , maybe someone shoulda asked some questions.
” “ See that knucklehead counting tickets by the money box ?
That was Jimmy ( Screeches ) Scrizzione , a smooth-talking grifter with a million-dollar smile and a work ethic that ’ d put any Puritan to shame .
Unfortunately , he also had a teensy little habit—some of the boys think it may have been neurophysiological—of being unable to take a whiz without making a series of screeches so loud and , frankly , alarming that they unfailingly attracted the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was prouder of his Italian heritage than Wesleydale ( the Italian Guy ) Von Stroppenheimer IX .
The I.G .
was constantly hitting us with phrases from the old country , like ‘ Oh !
Solo mio ?
’ and ‘ That is a spicy ball of meat !
’ And good luck trying to stop him whenever a hydrant burst—he would rush outside to get into a splash war with the neighborhood kids , frolicking among the ice-cold jets of marinara.
” “ Whether you had a broken jaw or a broken @ @ @ @ @ @ @ like Mama Gabbagool .
Just a few minutes spent in her strong , loving , salt-cured , paprika-flavored arms , and all your troubles seemed to melt away .
Then , before you knew it , it was already time to strap on your weight belt and heft that thirty-five-pound , ruby-and-white-marbled vixen back onto her hook in Sal ’ s freezer , and keep Mama G. and your ‘ little secret ’ safe another week.
” “ A lot of wiseguys dismissed Hatori as nothin ’ more than a resurrected ninth-century samurai @ @ @ @ @ @ @ his daimyo ’ s barley harvest .
But , to me , Hot Tony was more like a father figure who taught me how to keep my head up , stay alive , and—no matter what happened—never ever re-sheathe my katana until the blood spurted , bright as wine , from those treacherous Minamoto-clan sons-of-devil-pigs.
” “ Frankly , nobody knew what to make of Bobby ( Old-Man-Supposed-to-Look-Like-a-Young-Man ) DeNunzio .
The way he had a young wife and little kids but also , somehow , the face of a guy old enough @ @ @ @ @ @ @ festival in Tribeca .
But you couldn ’ t count Bobby out , because any Mob action that took place over the past forty-five years , he was always there , in a starring role .
And yet at the end of the day—or whatever unit of time Bobby existed in—he was a man of simple needs .
All he wanted out of life was to know if someone was talking to him .
”

“Sal was the owner and sole proprietor of Sal’s Salumeria Salata, but, to us kids, he was more like Santa Claus. We’d drop by after school, and Sal would say, ‘Wait, bambinos, I got a little something for you in the back.’ Then he’d disappear for a sec and return with a special treat he’d pop right in our mouths—garlic knots, cannoli, cheesecloth, antifreeze, long rows of industrial staples—just whatever Sal had on hand that was fresh, no money accepted, no questions asked. In retrospect, maybe someone shoulda asked some questions.”
“See that knucklehead counting tickets by the money box? That was Jimmy (Screeches) Scrizzione, a smooth-talking grifter with a million-dollar smile and a work ethic that’d put any Puritan to shame. Unfortunately, he also had a teensy little habit—some of the boys think it may have been neurophysiological—of being unable to take a whiz without making a series of screeches so loud and, frankly, alarming that they unfailingly attracted the notice of law enforcement.”
“Nobody was prouder of his Italian heritage than Wesleydale (the Italian Guy) Von Stroppenheimer IX. The I.G. was constantly hitting us with phrases from the old country, like ‘Oh! Solo mio?’ and ‘That is a spicy ball of meat!’ And good luck trying to stop him whenever a hydrant burst—he would rush outside to get into a splash war with the neighborhood kids, frolicking among the ice-cold jets of marinara.”
“Whether you had a broken jaw or a broken heart, nobody could patch you up like Mama Gabbagool. Just a few minutes spent in her strong, loving, salt-cured, paprika-flavored arms, and all your troubles seemed to melt away. Then, before you knew it, it was already time to strap on your weight belt and heft that thirty-five-pound, ruby-and-white-marbled vixen back onto her hook in Sal’s freezer, and keep Mama G. and your ‘little secret’ safe another week.”
“A lot of wiseguys dismissed Hatori as nothin’ more than a resurrected ninth-century samurai seeking vengeance on the clan that pillaged his daimyo’s barley harvest. But, to me, Hot Tony was more like a father figure who taught me how to keep my head up, stay alive, and—no matter what happened—never ever re-sheathe my katana until the blood spurted, bright as wine, from those treacherous Minamoto-clan sons-of-devil-pigs.”
“Frankly, nobody knew what to make of Bobby (Old-Man-Supposed-to-Look-Like-a-Young-Man) DeNunzio. The way he had a young wife and little kids but also, somehow, the face of a guy old enough to run a restaurant and a film festival in Tribeca. But you couldn’t count Bobby out, because any Mob action that took place over the past forty-five years, he was always there, in a starring role. And yet at the end of the day—or whatever unit of time Bobby existed in—he was a man of simple needs. All he wanted out of life was to know if someone was talking to him.”


newyorker--2020-02-07--“Birds of Prey” and “Corpus Christi,” Reviewed

Beware of movies with long titles .
I vaguely recall a Dustin Hoffman film , made in 1971 , called “ Who Is Harry Kellerman and Why Is He Saying Those Terrible Things About Me ?
, ” but for the life of me I can ’ t remember the answer to either question .
An oversized title has no practical worth , its sole purpose being to give us a mandatory dose of wackiness .
Hence the latest contender , “ Birds of Prey , and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn.
” Don ’ t you feel @ @ @ @ @ @ @ film , directed by Cathy Yan , follows on from “ Suicide Squad ” ( 2016 ) , which ranked among the most thumpingly cheerless experiences of recent years .
Sequels were therefore inevitable .
This one begins—and , given the tone at which the movie aims , should perhaps have continued—with a high-speed cartoon sequence .
We are yanked through the personal history of Harley Quinn ( Margot Robbie ) , a bright kid who went on to become first a psychiatrist and then a frenzied felon .
What wrought the change @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a big cheese in the stink of Gotham City .
( In case you ’ re wondering : no , Joaquin Phoenix does not appear . )
Harley , however , has now split with her grinning swain and gone solo .
Comic-book films are plagued by a particular indecision : are the protagonists better off being lonesome or gregarious ?
When we describe them as clubbable , is that because they like to gang together or because , taken as individuals , they ’ re just asking to be hit over the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ plague is extremely profitable ; Iron Man , for instance , has three Marvel movies pretty much to himself but also gets folded into the Avengers .
The DC franchise , desperate not to be outdone , has tried something similar with Batman , forcing the poor fellow to sign up for “ Justice League ” ( 2017 ) , when we all know that he ’ d be so much happier staying home , curling up in his little Bat-bed , and shedding idle tears over the Bat-days that are no more @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a recluse .
She loves to go out , get wasted , meet people , and fight them .
In onscreen graphics , she proudly reports what it is about her that vexes her opponents .
( “ Voted for Bernie.
” “ Have a vagina.
” ) Yet Harley is often alone in the frame—marching toward the camera in her T-shirt and shorts , smiling madly through lips of fire-engine red , and peppering us with unceasing chatter , as if words were buckshot .
She lives on her own , too @ @ @ @ @ @ @ tutu and a pet hyena named Bruce .
( As with the title , note the surfeit of nuttiness .
Rarely have I seen a movie strain so hard to seem out-there . )
Our heroine needs some kindred spirits , and quick .
So , a warbling welcome to the Birds of Prey : Cassandra Cain ( Ella Jay Basco ) , a teen-age thief ; Dinah Lance ( Jurnee Smollett-Bell ) , a singer and chauffeur ; and Renee Montoya ( Rosie Perez ) , a cop who ’ s been @ @ @ @ @ @ @ loftiest is Helena Bertinelli—the one interesting card in the pack , the reason being neither her backstory ( some Mafia-flavored baloney about revenge ) nor her skill with a crossbow but the fact that she ’ s played by Mary Elizabeth Winstead , who , thanks to her low and Lauren Bacall-ish delivery , brings an amused aloofness to the fray .
All of the above team up with Harley to tackle Roman Siones ( Ewan McGregor ) , a Gotham superthug , otherwise known as Black Mask .
Why ?
Because he @ @ @ @ @ @ @ script is by Christina Hodson , who has also contributed to the creation of Highland 2 , an app that enables you to submit your screenplay to gender analysis .
No surprise , then , that Yan ’ s movie , peopled as it is by women who talk among themselves , with only fitful reference to men , doesn ’ t so much pass the Bechdel Test as ace it , while also ticking the profanity box , the ear-splitting box , and the bone-snapping box—every box , in fact , except @ @ @ @ @ @ @ motion picture to be good .
“ Birds of Prey , ” alas , is an unholy and sadistic mess .
“ Nothing gets a guy ’ s attention like violence , ” Harley says , and the action consists largely of female combatants breaking the limbs of hapless males and clobbering them in the groin .
Thoroughly deserved , I guess , and about time , too , though the point was more efficiently and more elegantly made long ago , in “ Nothing Sacred ” ( 1937 ) , when Carole @ @ @ @ @ @ @ by Fredric March , slugs him back .
For a second , he teeters upright , whereupon she puffs at him , as if blowing the clock off a dandelion , and he keels over .
That gets his attention just fine .
The contenders for Best International Feature Film at the forthcoming Academy Awards are a muscular crew .
Four of them— “ Pain and Glory , ” “ Parasite , ” “ Honeyland , ” and “ Les Misérables ” —are already on the loose .
The fifth is a Polish @ @ @ @ @ @ @ which opens on February 19th .
Directed by Jan Komasa , it stars a young actor named Bartosz Bielenia , a bundle of intensity with a buzz cut .
If Oscars were decided according to the speed with which voters flipped out when they stared into the eyes of the principal character , “ Corpus Christi ” would be an easy winner .
Most of the tale is set in a village in Poland .
There , the faithful are tended by Father Tomasz ( Bielenia ) , who hears their confessions and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ also smokes and drinks with his parishioners , dances with them , and shows them his tattoos .
( One is a large Madonna and Child , incised on his upper back . )
His congregation , sparse when he first arrives , begins to swell .
By the end , the pews are full .
Just one problem : Father Tomasz is not Father anything .
He ’ s not a priest at all .
And his name isn ’ t Tomasz but Daniel .
He ’ s a jailbird , sent @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and that ’ s where we initially meet him , as he keeps watch while his fellow-inmates brutalize some poor soul in the carpentry workshop .
Not long afterward , Daniel is released on parole .
Having fêted his freedom with a bout of boozing , cocaine snorting , and casual sex , he takes a bus to the far-flung village , where a job in a sawmill awaits him .
One glance at the mill , though , is enough ; he walks on , goes to the house of the local @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Tomasz .
When the elderly incumbent is taken sick , the young pretender steps in .
The comic potential of this setup isn ’ t hard to spot , and many movies have followed the farcical path .
The theory that dressing up as a man of God is intrinsically funny was proved by Denholm Elliott , as a butler turned doddering Irish priest , in “ Trading Places ” ( 1983 ) , though later refuted by Sean Penn and Robert De Niro , in “ We ’ re No Angels ” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of Komasa ’ s film is “ Le Missionnaire ” ( 2009 ) , a French frolic that never came out in America .
It was all about , you guessed it , an ex-con who lands in a secluded community and dons a cassock as a cunning disguise .
The difference is that “ Corpus Christi ” ain ’ t funny .
There are scraps of levity , as when Daniel , in the confessional , furtively checks his phone for the correct sacramental procedure , yet what ensues , in that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in the movie , with a female penitent reduced to tears by the counsel that he provides .
Notice that we don ’ t actually see him give her absolution ; do the filmmakers consider that a heresy too far ?
Bearing in mind that Poland , where eighty-six per cent of adults call themselves Catholics , is the most devout of the larger European nations , you soon realize that Daniel is anything but a simple fraud .
In prison , he assists the chaplain—a tough nut , whose name really is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ services , and asks whether , as a convict , he might be accepted at a seminary .
( Not a chance . )
For Daniel , the religious life is more than a convenient front , or a refuge where he can go to ground .
It is , or could have been , his natural home .
The spirit is willing , but the résumé is weak .

Beware of movies with long titles. I vaguely recall a Dustin Hoffman film, made in 1971, called “Who Is Harry Kellerman and Why Is He Saying Those Terrible Things About Me?,” but for the life of me I can’t remember the answer to either question. An oversized title has no practical worth, its sole purpose being to give us a mandatory dose of wackiness. Hence the latest contender, “Birds of Prey, and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn.” Don’t you feel kooked up just reading that?
The film, directed by Cathy Yan, follows on from “Suicide Squad” (2016), which ranked among the most thumpingly cheerless experiences of recent years. Sequels were therefore inevitable. This one begins—and, given the tone at which the movie aims, should perhaps have continued—with a high-speed cartoon sequence. We are yanked through the personal history of Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie), a bright kid who went on to become first a psychiatrist and then a frenzied felon. What wrought the change was her relationship with the Joker, a big cheese in the stink of Gotham City. (In case you’re wondering: no, Joaquin Phoenix does not appear.) Harley, however, has now split with her grinning swain and gone solo.
Comic-book films are plagued by a particular indecision: are the protagonists better off being lonesome or gregarious? When we describe them as clubbable, is that because they like to gang together or because, taken as individuals, they’re just asking to be hit over the head? Needless to say, the plague is extremely profitable; Iron Man, for instance, has three Marvel movies pretty much to himself but also gets folded into the Avengers. The DC franchise, desperate not to be outdone, has tried something similar with Batman, forcing the poor fellow to sign up for “Justice League” (2017), when we all know that he’d be so much happier staying home, curling up in his little Bat-bed, and shedding idle tears over the Bat-days that are no more.
No one could call Harley Quinn a recluse. She loves to go out, get wasted, meet people, and fight them. In onscreen graphics, she proudly reports what it is about her that vexes her opponents. (“Voted for Bernie.” “Have a vagina.”) Yet Harley is often alone in the frame—marching toward the camera in her T-shirt and shorts, smiling madly through lips of fire-engine red, and peppering us with unceasing chatter, as if words were buckshot. She lives on her own, too, with a stuffed beaver in a tutu and a pet hyena named Bruce. (As with the title, note the surfeit of nuttiness. Rarely have I seen a movie strain so hard to seem out-there.) Our heroine needs some kindred spirits, and quick.
So, a warbling welcome to the Birds of Prey: Cassandra Cain (Ella Jay Basco), a teen-age thief; Dinah Lance (Jurnee Smollett-Bell), a singer and chauffeur; and Renee Montoya (Rosie Perez), a cop who’s been passed over for promotion. Last and loftiest is Helena Bertinelli—the one interesting card in the pack, the reason being neither her backstory (some Mafia-flavored baloney about revenge) nor her skill with a crossbow but the fact that she’s played by Mary Elizabeth Winstead, who, thanks to her low and Lauren Bacall-ish delivery, brings an amused aloofness to the fray. All of the above team up with Harley to tackle Roman Siones (Ewan McGregor), a Gotham superthug, otherwise known as Black Mask. Why? Because he sometimes wears one. Scary.
The script is by Christina Hodson, who has also contributed to the creation of Highland 2, an app that enables you to submit your screenplay to gender analysis. No surprise, then, that Yan’s movie, peopled as it is by women who talk among themselves, with only fitful reference to men, doesn’t so much pass the Bechdel Test as ace it, while also ticking the profanity box, the ear-splitting box, and the bone-snapping box—every box, in fact, except for the tricky one that requires a motion picture to be good. “Birds of Prey,” alas, is an unholy and sadistic mess. “Nothing gets a guy’s attention like violence,” Harley says, and the action consists largely of female combatants breaking the limbs of hapless males and clobbering them in the groin. Thoroughly deserved, I guess, and about time, too, though the point was more efficiently and more elegantly made long ago, in “Nothing Sacred” (1937), when Carole Lombard, in revenge for being punched by Fredric March, slugs him back. For a second, he teeters upright, whereupon she puffs at him, as if blowing the clock off a dandelion, and he keels over. That gets his attention just fine.
The contenders for Best International Feature Film at the forthcoming Academy Awards are a muscular crew. Four of them—“Pain and Glory,” “Parasite,” “Honeyland,” and “Les Misérables”—are already on the loose. The fifth is a Polish movie, “Corpus Christi,” which opens on February 19th. Directed by Jan Komasa, it stars a young actor named Bartosz Bielenia, a bundle of intensity with a buzz cut. If Oscars were decided according to the speed with which voters flipped out when they stared into the eyes of the principal character, “Corpus Christi” would be an easy winner.
Most of the tale is set in a village in Poland. There, the faithful are tended by Father Tomasz (Bielenia), who hears their confessions and strives to heal their wounds. He also smokes and drinks with his parishioners, dances with them, and shows them his tattoos. (One is a large Madonna and Child, incised on his upper back.) His congregation, sparse when he first arrives, begins to swell. By the end, the pews are full.
Just one problem: Father Tomasz is not Father anything. He’s not a priest at all. And his name isn’t Tomasz but Daniel. He’s a jailbird, sent to prison for a vicious crime, and that’s where we initially meet him, as he keeps watch while his fellow-inmates brutalize some poor soul in the carpentry workshop. Not long afterward, Daniel is released on parole. Having fêted his freedom with a bout of boozing, cocaine snorting, and casual sex, he takes a bus to the far-flung village, where a job in a sawmill awaits him. One glance at the mill, though, is enough; he walks on, goes to the house of the local clergyman, and announces himself as Father Tomasz. When the elderly incumbent is taken sick, the young pretender steps in.
The comic potential of this setup isn’t hard to spot, and many movies have followed the farcical path. The theory that dressing up as a man of God is intrinsically funny was proved by Denholm Elliott, as a butler turned doddering Irish priest, in “Trading Places” (1983), though later refuted by Sean Penn and Robert De Niro, in “We’re No Angels” (1989). The clearest predecessor of Komasa’s film is “Le Missionnaire” (2009), a French frolic that never came out in America. It was all about, you guessed it, an ex-con who lands in a secluded community and dons a cassock as a cunning disguise.
The difference is that “Corpus Christi” ain’t funny. There are scraps of levity, as when Daniel, in the confessional, furtively checks his phone for the correct sacramental procedure, yet what ensues, in that scene, is the most affecting moment in the movie, with a female penitent reduced to tears by the counsel that he provides. Notice that we don’t actually see him give her absolution; do the filmmakers consider that a heresy too far? Bearing in mind that Poland, where eighty-six per cent of adults call themselves Catholics, is the most devout of the larger European nations, you soon realize that Daniel is anything but a simple fraud. In prison, he assists the chaplain—a tough nut, whose name really is Father Tomasz (Lukasz Simlat)—during services, and asks whether, as a convict, he might be accepted at a seminary. (Not a chance.) For Daniel, the religious life is more than a convenient front, or a refuge where he can go to ground. It is, or could have been, his natural home. The spirit is willing, but the résumé is weak.
Komasa strews the narrative with subplots. Daniel is drawn to a young woman, Marta (Eliza Rycembel), but scorned by her mournful mother, Lidia (Aleksandra Konieczna), who is both the housekeeper at the vicarage and the sexton at the church. (Does she suspect him of deceit? It’s a fine performance, alert with moral suspense.) Also, before Daniel’s time, there was a fatal road accident, in which six inhabitants of the village crashed into a seventh. The whole place has been roiled by grief, and it’s up to the pseudo-priest to confront the waves of anger and recrimination, and to bid them be still.
Some of these story lines, in truth, work better than others. Whenever the movie strays from its hero, you feel oddly impatient to get back to him, to watch his cravings do battle with his conscience, and to wonder anew what’s burning in his blue-green gaze. On the dance floor, he looks frankly terrifying, as if lost in a pentecostal trance. “Corpus Christi” is neither a parable nor an allegory, yet image after image seems charged with intent, from the opening shot—of carpenters’ saws, grating to and fro like instruments of torture—to the climax, an apocalyptic welter of fire and blood. This Daniel has no need to enter a lions’ den. If I were a lion, I’d be afraid to enter his. ♦


newyorker--2020-02-07--What’s Lost and Gained in a Modern “Little Women”

Will Greta Gerwig ’ s beautiful “ Little Women , ” adapted from Louisa May Alcott ’ s novel , get the Oscar for Best Picture ?
A lot of moviegoers hope that it will—actually , insist that it should .
If you ask other people , including me , Quentin Tarantino ’ s “ Once Upon a Time .
.
.
in Hollywood ” and , above all , Bong Joon-ho ’ s “ Parasite , ” are more interesting movies , but this is a high bar .
It was a marvellous year for Best Pictures—indeed , best @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Little Women ” is less a movie than an avatar , the rebirth of a beloved cultural property .
It ’ s as if someone made a movie of the Book of Job .
Furthermore , this one is unashamedly the modern version .
Alcott , if we read her book carefully , wasn ’ t altogether sure that she wanted to make it a feminist rallying cry , and there are things in the book that make you think she would have given it all up—the writing , the independence , the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ did : “ I ’ d rather be a free spinster and paddle my own canoe , ” she wrote ) —if the right man had come along .
At one point , Marmee , the mother of the “ little women ” —the March sisters , Meg , Jo , Beth , and Amy—says that the best thing in the world a woman can have is the love of a good man .
Elsewhere , when Friedrich Bhaer , a kind , penniless , and rather rumpled professor from Germany , criticizes @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the local newspaper—saying , basically , “ Why are you writing this inconsequential stuff ?
You could do so much better ” —she goes off quietly to her room and burns the manuscripts .
Alcott answered her publisher ’ s requests for a proper , marital ending by having Meg , Jo ’ s sister , married off , at the conclusion of the first volume .
( The book was published in two parts . )
Only once that first volume was a success , and Alcott started receiving huge bags of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , handsome neighbor , Laurie , who is madly in love with her , did Alcott send Jo down the aisle , but not with Laurie .
Jo marries Bhaer , the man who told her to stop writing trash .
When they have children , they have two boys .
When they open a school , it is a boys ’ school .
But no one who has read the whole of Alcott ’ s “ Little Women ” would say that these apparent backslidings toward a more conventional view of her @ @ @ @ @ @ @ book was published in the mid-nineteenth century ( 1868-1869 ) , and Alcott was clearly pressing against women ’ s chains , as readers have realized for many years .
A long line of female writers—Simone de Beauvoir , Doris Lessing , Cynthia Ozick , Susan Sontag , A. S. Byatt , Margaret Atwood—have testified that Alcott was an inspiration to them .
Jo gives a ringing speech about how tired she is of women being viewed as fit only for love , never for their minds or their talents .
In other @ @ @ @ @ @ @ But that ’ s not what Gerwig wanted her to have , so Gerwig fixed them .
In the film , soon after Jo ’ s speech , her sister Amy gives an even more forceful speech , to Laurie .
She ’ s always known , she says , that she would marry rich : Amy : Why should I be ashamed of that ?
Laurie : It ’ s nothing to be ashamed of , as long as you love him .
Amy : Well , I believe that we have @ @ @ @ @ @ @ It isn ’ t something that just happens to a person .
Laurie : I think the poets might disagree .
Amy : Well , I ’ m not a poet .
I ’ m just a woman .
And as a woman there ’ s no way for me to make my own money .
Not enough to earn a living or to support my family .
And if I had my own money , which I don ’ t , that money would belong to my husband the moment we got @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , they would be his , not mine .
They would be his property , so don ’ t sit there and tell me that marriage isn ’ t an economic proposition .
Because it is .
Those are not the only declarations .
In many other respects , Gerwig favors tough women .
She certainly does this with the casting .
It is no surprise that she hired Saoirse Ronan to play Jo , the tomboy , with the flashing eyes and the no-nonsense talk .
She did the same with the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
In the novel , Meg , the eldest , is a mild , maternal character .
In Gerwig ’ s movie , she is played by Emma Watson , the Hermione of the Harry Potter movies , and Watson is true to the form in which we knew her there : spunky and wild , that is , completely wrong as Meg .
( It should be added that Meg was to have been played by Emma Stone , who was forced to pull out by competing obligations .
If Watson wasn @ @ @ @ @ @ @ been the best that anyone could do in the allotted time , and , though she wasn ’ t Meg , it was still nice to see her again . )
Then , a more amazing thing : Amy , the youngest of the March girls , who in the novel is a very girly girl , a fan of ribbons and fripperies , is played by Florence Pugh , an Englishwoman with a voice like Marlene Dietrich .
The fans of the movie are slobbering over her , and I like her @ @ @ @ @ @ @ not Alcott ’ s Amy .
She ’ s almost an anti-Amy , and I think Gerwig may have wanted her that way , as the speech to Laurie suggests .
That speech is not in Alcott ’ s book .
Gerwig inserted it .
She told David Remnick , in an interview on The New Yorker Radio Hour , that she took it more or less verbatim from remarks that Meryl Streep ( who plays the girls ’ aunt , wonderfully ) made to her over lunch one day .

Will Greta Gerwig’s beautiful “Little Women,” adapted from Louisa May Alcott’s novel, get the Oscar for Best Picture? A lot of moviegoers hope that it will—actually, insist that it should. If you ask other people, including me, Quentin Tarantino’s “Once Upon a Time . . . in Hollywood” and, above all, Bong Joon-ho’s “Parasite,” are more interesting movies, but this is a high bar. It was a marvellous year for Best Pictures—indeed, best almost everythings.
Gerwig’s “Little Women” is less a movie than an avatar, the rebirth of a beloved cultural property. It’s as if someone made a movie of the Book of Job. Furthermore, this one is unashamedly the modern version. Alcott, if we read her book carefully, wasn’t altogether sure that she wanted to make it a feminist rallying cry, and there are things in the book that make you think she would have given it all up—the writing, the independence, the choice not to marry (she never did: “I’d rather be a free spinster and paddle my own canoe,” she wrote)—if the right man had come along. At one point, Marmee, the mother of the “little women”—the March sisters, Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy—says that the best thing in the world a woman can have is the love of a good man. Elsewhere, when Friedrich Bhaer, a kind, penniless, and rather rumpled professor from Germany, criticizes the stories that Jo is writing for the local newspaper—saying, basically, “Why are you writing this inconsequential stuff? You could do so much better”—she goes off quietly to her room and burns the manuscripts. Alcott answered her publisher’s requests for a proper, marital ending by having Meg, Jo’s sister, married off, at the conclusion of the first volume. (The book was published in two parts.) Only once that first volume was a success, and Alcott started receiving huge bags of letters asking whether Jo married her rich, handsome neighbor, Laurie, who is madly in love with her, did Alcott send Jo down the aisle, but not with Laurie. Jo marries Bhaer, the man who told her to stop writing trash. When they have children, they have two boys. When they open a school, it is a boys’ school.
But no one who has read the whole of Alcott’s “Little Women” would say that these apparent backslidings toward a more conventional view of her sex unambivalently reflect her feelings. The book was published in the mid-nineteenth century (1868-1869), and Alcott was clearly pressing against women’s chains, as readers have realized for many years. A long line of female writers—Simone de Beauvoir, Doris Lessing, Cynthia Ozick, Susan Sontag, A. S. Byatt, Margaret Atwood—have testified that Alcott was an inspiration to them. Jo gives a ringing speech about how tired she is of women being viewed as fit only for love, never for their minds or their talents.
In other words, Alcott had mixed feelings. But that’s not what Gerwig wanted her to have, so Gerwig fixed them. In the film, soon after Jo’s speech, her sister Amy gives an even more forceful speech, to Laurie. She’s always known, she says, that she would marry rich:
Amy: Why should I be ashamed of that? Laurie: It’s nothing to be ashamed of, as long as you love him. Amy: Well, I believe that we have some power over who we love. It isn’t something that just happens to a person. Laurie: I think the poets might disagree. Amy: Well, I’m not a poet. I’m just a woman. And as a woman there’s no way for me to make my own money. Not enough to earn a living or to support my family. And if I had my own money, which I don’t, that money would belong to my husband the moment we got married. And if we had children, they would be his, not mine. They would be his property, so don’t sit there and tell me that marriage isn’t an economic proposition. Because it is.
Those are not the only declarations. In many other respects, Gerwig favors tough women. She certainly does this with the casting. It is no surprise that she hired Saoirse Ronan to play Jo, the tomboy, with the flashing eyes and the no-nonsense talk. She did the same with the other girls, or she tried to. In the novel, Meg, the eldest, is a mild, maternal character. In Gerwig’s movie, she is played by Emma Watson, the Hermione of the Harry Potter movies, and Watson is true to the form in which we knew her there: spunky and wild, that is, completely wrong as Meg. (It should be added that Meg was to have been played by Emma Stone, who was forced to pull out by competing obligations. If Watson wasn’t perfect, that may have been the best that anyone could do in the allotted time, and, though she wasn’t Meg, it was still nice to see her again.)
Then, a more amazing thing: Amy, the youngest of the March girls, who in the novel is a very girly girl, a fan of ribbons and fripperies, is played by Florence Pugh, an Englishwoman with a voice like Marlene Dietrich. The fans of the movie are slobbering over her, and I like her, too, but she’s not Alcott’s Amy. She’s almost an anti-Amy, and I think Gerwig may have wanted her that way, as the speech to Laurie suggests. That speech is not in Alcott’s book. Gerwig inserted it. She told David Remnick, in an interview on The New Yorker Radio Hour, that she took it more or less verbatim from remarks that Meryl Streep (who plays the girls’ aunt, wonderfully) made to her over lunch one day.
But the greatest liberty that Gerwig took with her text was to make it not so much the story of “Little Women” as the story of Alcott’s writing “Little Women.” At the beginning of the movie, we see Jo standing in front of a newspaper editor’s door, clearly trying to get up her courage. Will this man buy the story that she is going to offer him? Yes, and he is going to pay her twenty dollars for it, though, as he tells her offhandedly, he would have paid her twenty-five to thirty if she hadn’t been a beginner. The movie concludes on a similar note. Before the end, we get a look at the school Jo established with Bhaer, but, at the end itself, we see what, to Gerwig, was Jo’s true destination: her writing career. In the last five minutes or so, we watch the pages of “Little Women” being sewn, the cover being cut, the boards being pasted. And then we see Saoirse Ronan’s face, watching all this with calm intensity. She doesn’t cry; she doesn’t speak. She just stands there and looks as the book she has told her sisters is all about them is produced.
Beth (the excellent Eliza Scanlen) dies of scarlet fever before Jo’s book is published, but it is Beth who got Jo writing again, after a dry period that was probably Jo’s response to the news that Beth was dying. Professor Bhaer may have given Jo the best advice, but it was Jo’s love for Beth, and Beth’s for her, that pulled her out of her depression. Beth then dies nobly, flush-faced and sweaty, pulling on the sheets but clearly just wishing it would be over. And Jo writes “Little Women.” Gerwig has fused Alcott and Jo. No one has ever doubted that the book was somewhat autobiographical—Alcott herself said so—but not this autobiographical.
It’s hard not to feel a little bad about the adjustments that Gerwig made to Alcott’s text, and also about the smaller nips and tucks that she made in order to turn the movie into the thing she wanted it to be. I have never seen a source more thoroughly, more pointedly edited. Jo, hurrying home from New York to Massachusetts for the sake of Beth, dozes off on the train. Then she wakes up, but—surprise!—she’s no longer on the train but at home, in the attic room that is her writing headquarters. Earlier, we see the four sisters gambolling on a beach. What beach? Where? Never mind, because shortly we’ll see a beach again, but this time with only two girls, Jo and Beth, and not gambolling in the sunshine but talking, in a cold wind, about the fact that Beth has only a short time to live. Beth asks Jo why she doesn’t seem to be writing anymore. Write just a little story, she says. For me.
The editing is like something out of eighteenth-century marquetry, with every little piece cut up and nested into another one. The result can be bewildering. But, if you remember Alcott’s story, you realize that most of this editing is thematic. It joins two moments by the link of a common trait, which in turn points, very often, to a single truth: that a woman can be an artist, just like a man. This is Gerwig’s preachment to today’s young women, and the reason people feel she should get the Oscar for Best Picture. You can’t not wish them luck.


newyorker--2020-02-07--Kochi’s Korean Tasting Menu Offers Everyday Indulgence on a Skewer

The other night at Kochi , a new Korean restaurant in Hell ’ s Kitchen , I decided to conduct an experiment .
Dinner here is tasting-menu-only : nine courses , most of them skewers , from the chef Sungchul Shim , who worked at Per Se and Neta .
At seventy-five dollars , it seemed , compared with similar offerings , to be unusually reasonably priced—half as much , for instance , as the skewer tasting menu at Torien , a new spinoff of a renowned Tokyo yakitori bar .
And yet my server pushed , if gently , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ osetra caviar , black truffles , uni , Wagyu beef .
Were they necessary ?
Was this a hundred-and-fifty-dollar tasting menu posing as a seventy-five-dollar one ?
Was I in danger of being suckered by a marketing ploy ?
I ’ d find out , by declining them all on my first visit and then coming back and posing as a high roller .
I ’ m delighted to report my findings .
The pine-nut-and-potato-milk soup completely swallowed up the caviar ( an extra fifteen dollars ) —not to mention the fact that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ painstakingly mounded the fish eggs in the tiny bowl ( and applied , with tweezers , wisps of gold leaf and a minuscule flower , plucked from a minuscule stem ) , the otherwise fantastic soup , pleasingly warm on my initial visit , had gone cold .
The first time I had the slow-cooked chicken terrine , I was deeply impressed by the paper-thin slices of raw cremini mushroom that overlaid the meat .
They were stirringly earthy , delicate , and sweet .
I thought it would be a shame to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ seventeen dollars ) , and , by my second visit , the restaurant seemed to have come to the same conclusion ; the supplement was no longer on the menu .
I admit that Wagyu beef is obscenely rich , that the fat sort of crackles on your tongue before melting like butter .
During my second meal at Kochi , it took the place of a rib-eye patty that had been served in pieces , kebab-like , on a skewer ; the glistening , marbled slices of Wagyu ( forty-three dollars ) @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
And yet the comparison seemed almost moot—because the most compelling part of the dish was , again , a relatively standard mushroom , this time a king trumpet .
Carved into fantastically juicy , almost creamy segments , it held up beautifully to the char of the binchotan grill and to a swipe of pungent black-garlic-and-chestnut purée .
Throughout the meal , I found myself reëvaluating ingredients that I had come to consider prosaic .
Mackerel , so often oily and bluntly fishy , was mellow and meaty , crowned with frizzled @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in a vinaigrette made with yuzu and makgeolli , a cloudy Korean rice wine .
Yellowtail , that standby of the sushi bar , became newly rousing—cut into fat , sweet , pure-tasting squares , paired with a tart tiger ’ s milk ( a Peruvian-style citrus-based marinade ) , a dribble of gochujang , and a salad of tiny half-moons of crunchy cucumber and radish shredded as fine as confetti .
Would it be hyperbolic to say that the revelation that perilla ( a Korean cousin of Japanese shiso ) makes a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ than a hundred lobes of uni ?
Perhaps—but I ’ d be happy to eat uni once a year and perilla kimchi every morning with rice for breakfast .
At Kochi , the kimchi was a garnish on a skewer of bo ssäm , for which pork belly was cooked for fourteen hours .
That said , of all the supplements , the uni , offered with a bowl of bibimbap , made the most sense , turning the sticky mixture of soy-butter rice , candied anchovy , and spicy pollock roe into @ @ @ @ @ @ @ dollars are burning a hole in your pocket , I ’ d recommend that particular upcharge .
The heart of Kochi ’ s appeal , though , is Shim ’ s ability not to simply deliver luxury but to coax it out of the ordinary .
The menu is partly inspired by Korean royal-court cuisine , a multi-course style eaten by the ruling family during the Joseon dynasty ( 1392-1910 ) , which was lavish yet nourishing and wholesome .
Without the supplements , Kochi ’ s menu feels opulent but also restrained @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Tasting menu starts at $ 75 . )
♦

The other night at Kochi, a new Korean restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen, I decided to conduct an experiment. Dinner here is tasting-menu-only: nine courses, most of them skewers, from the chef Sungchul Shim, who worked at Per Se and Neta. At seventy-five dollars, it seemed, compared with similar offerings, to be unusually reasonably priced—half as much, for instance, as the skewer tasting menu at Torien, a new spinoff of a renowned Tokyo yakitori bar. And yet my server pushed, if gently, a handful of steeply priced supplements: osetra caviar, black truffles, uni, Wagyu beef. Were they necessary? Was this a hundred-and-fifty-dollar tasting menu posing as a seventy-five-dollar one? Was I in danger of being suckered by a marketing ploy? I’d find out, by declining them all on my first visit and then coming back and posing as a high roller.
A bowl of pine-nut-and-potato-milk soup can be supplemented, for an extra cost, with osetra caviar, which gets garnished further with gold leaf and minuscule flowers. Photograph by Janelle Jones for The New Yorker
I’m delighted to report my findings. The pine-nut-and-potato-milk soup completely swallowed up the caviar (an extra fifteen dollars)—not to mention the fact that, by the time a chef had painstakingly mounded the fish eggs in the tiny bowl (and applied, with tweezers, wisps of gold leaf and a minuscule flower, plucked from a minuscule stem), the otherwise fantastic soup, pleasingly warm on my initial visit, had gone cold.
The first time I had the slow-cooked chicken terrine, I was deeply impressed by the paper-thin slices of raw cremini mushroom that overlaid the meat. They were stirringly earthy, delicate, and sweet. I thought it would be a shame to overpower them with shaved black truffle (seventeen dollars), and, by my second visit, the restaurant seemed to have come to the same conclusion; the supplement was no longer on the menu.
Cocktails at Kochi, from left to right: Every Shade of Gold, with vodka, golden kiwi, and Korean muscat; When Gin Sings, with gin and black-pepper ginseng; Heungbu and Noblu, with rye and kumquat. Photograph by Janelle Jones for The New Yorker
I admit that Wagyu beef is obscenely rich, that the fat sort of crackles on your tongue before melting like butter. During my second meal at Kochi, it took the place of a rib-eye patty that had been served in pieces, kebab-like, on a skewer; the glistening, marbled slices of Wagyu (forty-three dollars) were, without question, more memorable. And yet the comparison seemed almost moot—because the most compelling part of the dish was, again, a relatively standard mushroom, this time a king trumpet. Carved into fantastically juicy, almost creamy segments, it held up beautifully to the char of the binchotan grill and to a swipe of pungent black-garlic-and-chestnut purée.
Throughout the meal, I found myself reëvaluating ingredients that I had come to consider prosaic. Mackerel, so often oily and bluntly fishy, was mellow and meaty, crowned with frizzled leeks and served atop sticky-sweet Japanese eggplant in a vinaigrette made with yuzu and makgeolli, a cloudy Korean rice wine. Yellowtail, that standby of the sushi bar, became newly rousing—cut into fat, sweet, pure-tasting squares, paired with a tart tiger’s milk (a Peruvian-style citrus-based marinade), a dribble of gochujang, and a salad of tiny half-moons of crunchy cucumber and radish shredded as fine as confetti.
Many of the courses take the form of skewers, which impale anything from raw yellowtail to grilled rib eye to a sweet-potato-and-sunchoke gratin. All are prepared in a small galley kitchen behind the bar. Photograph by Janelle Jones for The New Yorker
Would it be hyperbolic to say that the revelation that perilla (a Korean cousin of Japanese shiso) makes a sensational kimchi is more valuable to me than a hundred lobes of uni? Perhaps—but I’d be happy to eat uni once a year and perilla kimchi every morning with rice for breakfast. At Kochi, the kimchi was a garnish on a skewer of bo ssäm, for which pork belly was cooked for fourteen hours. That said, of all the supplements, the uni, offered with a bowl of bibimbap, made the most sense, turning the sticky mixture of soy-butter rice, candied anchovy, and spicy pollock roe into something supple and pudding-like.
Clockwise from bottom left: grilled branzino skewer; Heungbu and Noblu cocktail; bo-ssäm skewer topped with perilla kimchi; yellowtail skewer; pine-nut-and-potato-milk soup; rib-eye-patty-and-king-trumpet-mushroom skewer; sweet-potato-and-sunchoke-gratin skewer. Photograph by Janelle Jones for The New Yorker
If thirteen dollars are burning a hole in your pocket, I’d recommend that particular upcharge. The heart of Kochi’s appeal, though, is Shim’s ability not to simply deliver luxury but to coax it out of the ordinary. The menu is partly inspired by Korean royal-court cuisine, a multi-course style eaten by the ruling family during the Joseon dynasty (1392-1910), which was lavish yet nourishing and wholesome. Without the supplements, Kochi’s menu feels opulent but also restrained, indulgence for the everyday. (Tasting menu starts at $75.) ♦


newyorker--2020-02-07--The New York Philharmonic Honors the Nineteenth Amendment

Ellen Reid , whose arresting opera “ p r i s m ” won a Pulitzer in 2019 , joins @ @ @ @ @ the première of “ When the World as You ’ ve Known It Doesn ’ @ @ @ @ @ 20-22 , at David Geffen Hall .
Reid wrote the piece for “ Project 19 @ @ @ @ @ honoring the passage of the Nineteenth Amendment , for which the Philharmonic has commissioned works @ @ @ @ @ .
The initiative also presents Tania León ’ s “ Stride , ” nestled among @ @ @ @ @ , Feb. 13-18 .

Ellen Reid, whose arresting opera “p r i s m” won a Pulitzer in 2019, joins the New York Philharmonic for the première of “When the World as You’ve Known It Doesn’t Exist,” Feb. 20-22, at David Geffen Hall. Reid wrote the piece for “Project 19,” a multiyear series honoring the passage of the Nineteenth Amendment, for which the Philharmonic has commissioned works from nineteen distinguished women composers. The initiative also presents Tania León’s “Stride,” nestled among warhorses by Brahms and Strauss, Feb. 13-18.


newyorker--2020-02-07--The Challenge Facing Democrats in the 2020 Election

According to Rudge , a brusque high-school senior in Alan Bennett ’ s play “ The History Boys , ” history is “ one fucking thing after another.
” In the past few days , Democrats have been reminded of what Rudge meant .
On Monday , the failure of a data-sharing app plunged the Iowa Democratic caucus into a state of paralysis .
On Tuesday , a Gallup poll showed Donald Trump ’ s approval rate rising to forty-nine per cent , the highest mark of his Presidency .
Later that day , Trump delivered a State of the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
On Wednesday , his impeachment trial came to an end , with the G.O.P.-controlled Senate voting to acquit , and only one Republican dissenting .
Trump reacted by tweeting out a meme of his Presidency going on forever .
With nine months to go until the Presidential election , Trump ’ s celebratory gesture was premature , to say the least .
But anyone who wants to deny him a second term needs to be clear-eyed about the challenge ahead .
Most Presidents who run for reëlection win .
Given his incumbency @ @ @ @ @ @ @ steadily , Trump has two key advantages on his side .
Defeating him is going to take a mighty effort from the Democrats and their supporters—one that combines energy , cleverness , and discipline , rather than the disorganization and dysfunction displayed in Iowa .
Since the Second World War , only three sitting Presidents have run for reëlection and been defeated : Gerald Ford , in 1976 ; Jimmy Carter , in 1980 ; and George H. W. Bush , in 1992 .
Nine of the twelve incumbents who sought reëlection won @ @ @ @ @ @ @ where incumbents were defeated , the economy was—or was perceived to be—in serious trouble .
With policymakers at the Federal Reserve expecting G.D.P .
growth to continue at a rate of around two per cent this year , what about this November ?
Ray Fair , an economist at Yale , built a statistical model that seeks to forecast elections on the basis of incumbency and G.D.P .
growth .
Over the years , the Fair model has had a mixed record , reflecting the fact that these factors aren ’ t the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the model does provide a handy way of summarizing some key factors , and it is now predicting that Trump will win the popular vote comfortably .
If that happened , he would win an even bigger victory in the electoral college .
This forecast shouldn ’ t be taken literally .
In an era of intense polarization , there is evidence that economics doesn ’ t play as big a role as it used to in driving voting patterns .
On his Web site , Fair stresses that his model also doesn @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of individual candidates , which is obviously a key factor in the case of Trump .
Throughout his Presidency , his job-approval rating has lagged far behind his approval rating on economic issues .
That ’ s still true .
In the aforementioned Gallup survey , sixty-three per cent of respondents said that they approved of Trump ’ s handling of the economy—fourteen points above his job-approval rating .
It should also be noted that the Gallup job-approval rating is an outlier .
A new Reuters poll puts Trump ’ s rating at @ @ @ @ @ @ @ poll puts it at forty-four per cent .
On Thursday afternoon , the Real Clear Politics poll average , which combines the findings from many individual surveys findings , had Trump at 45.2 per cent , with a disapproval rating of 51.8 per cent .
Four months ago , his approval rating was 43.6 per cent , and his disapproval rating was 53.7 per cent .
These numbers tell us that Trump is still unpopular , but that he has become a bit less so recently .
Whether that shift reflects positive economic @ @ @ @ @ @ @ both , isn ’ t clear .
The key point is that Trump is now sufficiently popular , and the economic environment is sufficiently benign , to make his reëlection a real and live danger .
( In the online betting markets , for what they are worth , he is already a strong favorite to win . )
This year , again , the result will most likely come down to ten battleground states : Arizona , Florida , Maine , Minnesota , Nevada , New Hampshire , North Carolina , and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ states that Trump flipped in 2016 : Michigan , Pennsylvania , and Wisconsin .
According to the data-research firm Morning Consult , Trump ’ s disapproval rating currently exceeds his approval rating in all of these states apart from Florida .
But the gap has narrowed in a number of places , including Arizona , Minnesota , and Pennsylvania .
The identity of the Democratic candidate will obviously be vitally important , but so will the manner in which the campaign is conducted .
Everyone associated with the Democratic Party—from grassroots activists to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ unite behind the winner of the primary , whoever it is , and avoid scoring any own goals .
During a hard-fought primary election , it is difficult , if not impossible , for the various candidates and their supporters to project this sort of unity and discipline .
But other Democrats are showing how it can be done .
During the impeachment trial , the House managers , and particularly Adam Schiff , laid out their arguments with such professionalism and care that even some Republican senators conceded that they had made @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the case of Mitt Romney , of course , this wasn ’ t enough to persuade them to find Trump guilty . )
And , after Trump ’ s State of the Union address , Gretchen Whitmer , the governor of Michigan , delivered a Democratic response that deserved much more attention than it got .
Rather than engaging with Trump directly , Whitmer highlighted Democratic efforts to reduce gun violence , invest in infrastructure , lower prescription-drug prices , and expand access to health care .
She also contrasted these initiatives with @ @ @ @ @ @ @ showering tax cuts on the wealthy and trying to dismantle the Affordable Care Act , including the protections it afforded people with preëxisting conditions .
“ It ’ s pretty simple , ” she said .
“ Democrats are trying to make your health care better ; Republicans in Washington are trying to take it away.
” You can argue about whether the sorts of policies that Whitmer lauded are sufficient to rebalance a society that has been so grossly distorted by political corruption , record corporate profits , and rising inequality—this debate @ @ @ @ @ @ @ between the Bernie Sanders–Elizabeth Warren and Joe Biden–Pete Buttigieg wings of the Democratic Party .
In terms of campaign strategy , however , keeping the focus on everyday issues and on the mendaciousness of Trump and the Republicans offers the best prospect of defeating them in November .
Despite it all , they are still beatable .
Democrats need to get their act together and concentrate on the common enemy .

According to Rudge, a brusque high-school senior in Alan Bennett’s play “The History Boys,” history is “one fucking thing after another.” In the past few days, Democrats have been reminded of what Rudge meant. On Monday, the failure of a data-sharing app plunged the Iowa Democratic caucus into a state of paralysis. On Tuesday, a Gallup poll showed Donald Trump’s approval rate rising to forty-nine per cent, the highest mark of his Presidency. Later that day, Trump delivered a State of the Union address packed with falsehoods and demagoguery. On Wednesday, his impeachment trial came to an end, with the G.O.P.-controlled Senate voting to acquit, and only one Republican dissenting. Trump reacted by tweeting out a meme of his Presidency going on forever.
With nine months to go until the Presidential election, Trump’s celebratory gesture was premature, to say the least. But anyone who wants to deny him a second term needs to be clear-eyed about the challenge ahead. Most Presidents who run for reëlection win. Given his incumbency and an economy that is still growing steadily, Trump has two key advantages on his side. Defeating him is going to take a mighty effort from the Democrats and their supporters—one that combines energy, cleverness, and discipline, rather than the disorganization and dysfunction displayed in Iowa.
Since the Second World War, only three sitting Presidents have run for reëlection and been defeated: Gerald Ford, in 1976; Jimmy Carter, in 1980; and George H. W. Bush, in 1992. Nine of the twelve incumbents who sought reëlection won. In two of the three races where incumbents were defeated, the economy was—or was perceived to be—in serious trouble. With policymakers at the Federal Reserve expecting G.D.P. growth to continue at a rate of around two per cent this year, what about this November? Ray Fair, an economist at Yale, built a statistical model that seeks to forecast elections on the basis of incumbency and G.D.P. growth. Over the years, the Fair model has had a mixed record, reflecting the fact that these factors aren’t the only ones which impact elections. But the model does provide a handy way of summarizing some key factors, and it is now predicting that Trump will win the popular vote comfortably. If that happened, he would win an even bigger victory in the electoral college.
This forecast shouldn’t be taken literally. In an era of intense polarization, there is evidence that economics doesn’t play as big a role as it used to in driving voting patterns. On his Web site, Fair stresses that his model also doesn’t take into account the personality of individual candidates, which is obviously a key factor in the case of Trump. Throughout his Presidency, his job-approval rating has lagged far behind his approval rating on economic issues. That’s still true. In the aforementioned Gallup survey, sixty-three per cent of respondents said that they approved of Trump’s handling of the economy—fourteen points above his job-approval rating.
It should also be noted that the Gallup job-approval rating is an outlier. A new Reuters poll puts Trump’s rating at forty-two per cent, and an Economist/YouGov poll puts it at forty-four per cent. On Thursday afternoon, the Real Clear Politics poll average, which combines the findings from many individual surveys findings, had Trump at 45.2 per cent, with a disapproval rating of 51.8 per cent. Four months ago, his approval rating was 43.6 per cent, and his disapproval rating was 53.7 per cent. These numbers tell us that Trump is still unpopular, but that he has become a bit less so recently. Whether that shift reflects positive economic news or the impeachment trial, or both, isn’t clear.
The key point is that Trump is now sufficiently popular, and the economic environment is sufficiently benign, to make his reëlection a real and live danger. (In the online betting markets, for what they are worth, he is already a strong favorite to win.) This year, again, the result will most likely come down to ten battleground states: Arizona, Florida, Maine, Minnesota, Nevada, New Hampshire, North Carolina, and, of course, the three Rust Belt states that Trump flipped in 2016: Michigan, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin. According to the data-research firm Morning Consult, Trump’s disapproval rating currently exceeds his approval rating in all of these states apart from Florida. But the gap has narrowed in a number of places, including Arizona, Minnesota, and Pennsylvania.
The identity of the Democratic candidate will obviously be vitally important, but so will the manner in which the campaign is conducted. Everyone associated with the Democratic Party—from grassroots activists to elected officials and Party operatives—will need to unite behind the winner of the primary, whoever it is, and avoid scoring any own goals. During a hard-fought primary election, it is difficult, if not impossible, for the various candidates and their supporters to project this sort of unity and discipline. But other Democrats are showing how it can be done.
During the impeachment trial, the House managers, and particularly Adam Schiff, laid out their arguments with such professionalism and care that even some Republican senators conceded that they had made the case persuasively. (Except in the case of Mitt Romney, of course, this wasn’t enough to persuade them to find Trump guilty.) And, after Trump’s State of the Union address, Gretchen Whitmer, the governor of Michigan, delivered a Democratic response that deserved much more attention than it got.
Rather than engaging with Trump directly, Whitmer highlighted Democratic efforts to reduce gun violence, invest in infrastructure, lower prescription-drug prices, and expand access to health care. She also contrasted these initiatives with the Trump Administration’s record of showering tax cuts on the wealthy and trying to dismantle the Affordable Care Act, including the protections it afforded people with preëxisting conditions. “It’s pretty simple,” she said. “Democrats are trying to make your health care better; Republicans in Washington are trying to take it away.”
You can argue about whether the sorts of policies that Whitmer lauded are sufficient to rebalance a society that has been so grossly distorted by political corruption, record corporate profits, and rising inequality—this debate lies at the heart of the divide between the Bernie Sanders–Elizabeth Warren and Joe Biden–Pete Buttigieg wings of the Democratic Party. In terms of campaign strategy, however, keeping the focus on everyday issues and on the mendaciousness of Trump and the Republicans offers the best prospect of defeating them in November. Despite it all, they are still beatable. Democrats need to get their act together and concentrate on the common enemy.


newyorker--2020-02-07--What Matters Most in the Battle Between Trump and Pelosi

On January 23 , 2017 , Donald Trump ’ s fourth day as President , he met with congressional leaders in the State Dining Room of the White House .
“ You know , I won the popular vote , ” he started off , and then repeated the calumny that Hillary Clinton had received three to five million illegal votes , owing to fraud .
“ That ’ s not true , ” Nancy Pelosi replied , according to “ A Very Stable Genius , ” the recently published account of the Trump Presidency by the Washington Post reporters @ @ @ @ @ @ @ If we ’ re going to work together , ” Pelosi said , “ we have to stipulate to a certain set of facts.
” Steve Bannon , then Trump ’ s chief strategist , who was in the room , whispered to colleagues , “ She ’ s going to get us .
Total assassin.
” Pelosi did become one of Trump ’ s most unflinching adversaries , in part because she grasped early on that invitations to his White House are often just call sheets for unscripted television ; her finger-jabbing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ face has made her a recurring meme of the Democratic resistance .
She offered her most vivid performance yet on February 4th , during the President ’ s third State of the Union address .
As Trump spoke , Pelosi , wearing suffragist white , sat behind him in the high-backed chair reserved for the Speaker of the House of Representatives , and conspicuously shuffled and reshuffled a printed copy of the President ’ s speech .
After he finished , she tore the text in half .
Twitter blew up , as @ @ @ @ @ @ @ explained that she had abandoned decorum because Trump ’ s speech “ was a manifesto of mistruths.
” Hashtag wars are the President ’ s terrain , however ; the conflict between Pelosi and Trump matters most for what it says about the questionable health of the Constitution ’ s system of checks and balances .
After the 2018 midterm elections , when Democrats regained control of the House but not the Senate , Pelosi , who will turn eighty in March , was elected House Speaker , overcoming opposition from progressive and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ post by 2022 .
Last year , as the Mueller investigation wound down , Pelosi resisted calls from many Democrats to launch an impeachment inquiry .
She argued that the idea lacked public support , even as the Mueller report turned out to be damning , particularly in its litany of examples of likely obstruction of justice .
Pelosi ’ s judgment seemed to be grounded in political realism : even if the President were impeached , the chances remained slim to vanishing that the Republican-controlled Senate—cowed by Trump ’ s base and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and remove him from office by the necessary two-thirds vote .
Why impeach Trump if he could describe an acquittal as vindication , using it to denounce his enemies and to rally his following ?
Last September , after the Ukraine matter broke , Pelosi concluded—at the urging of both progressives and centrists in her House caucus—that this time the evidence was different .
Trump ’ s abuse of U.S. military aid and economic power to coerce Ukraine to investigate Joe Biden , she said , had crossed a line from “ bad @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to our Constitution.
” The House hearings that followed , despite a hurried schedule and White House obstruction , created a convincing record of Trump ’ s blithe disregard of a President ’ s duty to place the national interest before his own .
For all its political risks , Pelosi told the Times early this month , the impeachment investigation succeeded , because it “ pulled back a veil of behavior totally unacceptable to our founders .
.
.
.
The public will see this with a clearer eye , an unblurred @ @ @ @ @ @ @ would shape the judgment of voters in November , but she also seemed to acknowledge uncertainty about the coming election : “ Whatever happens , he has been impeached forever.
” When the Senate exonerated Trump , this week , following his brief and witness-free impeachment trial , the most striking reminder of the constitutional issues at stake was provided by Mitt Romney , the Republican Presidential nominee in 2012 , as he joined a united Democratic caucus to vote for Trump ’ s conviction on the article charging abuse of power .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ President ’ s conduct as “ a flagrant assault on our electoral rights , our national security , and our fundamental values.
” He went on , “ Corrupting an election to keep oneself in office is perhaps the most abusive and destructive violation of one ’ s oath of office that I can imagine.
” Whether Trump will nonetheless become the first President in U.S. history to be impeached and then reëlected remains a matter of mortal dread among many Democrats .
For a President presiding over a growing economy and low @ @ @ @ @ @ @ remain high , but incumbents with not much better numbers have gone on to win a second term .
His followers still camp out overnight to gain admission to his rallies .
Given the widespread animus toward the President in big blue states like California and New York , it seems doubtful that he can win the popular vote in November , yet recent state polls show that he has a plausible path to an Electoral College victory , similar to the one he constructed in 2016 .
Democratic voters seem motivated to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ yet they must first navigate a Presidential nominating contest in which there is no decisive front-runner and plenty of potential for divisiveness .
In “ A Very Stable Genius , ” Rucker and Leonnig provide an arresting narrative of how Trump has come to operate with far fewer constraints and much greater conviction about the soundness of his own instincts .
The President ’ s ignorance can be staggering .
( On a tour of the U.S.S .
Arizona Memorial , he made clear to his chief of staff at the time , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ know what had happened at Pearl Harbor . )
But the book ’ s most frightening scenes document Trump ’ s indifference to the rule of law , compounded , in some cases , by his reliance on right-wing television personalities for ideas .
In 2018 , he grew deeply frustrated with then Homeland Security Secretary Kirstjen Nielsen , because she ignored border-security proposals floated by the Fox Business host Lou Dobbs ; she had concluded that the proposals were infeasible or illegal .
When Trump insisted that Nielsen act as he wanted @ @ @ @ @ @ @ law enforcement doesn ’ t work like that .
.
.
.
These people have taken an oath to uphold the law .
Do you really want to tell them to do the opposite ?
” According to Rucker and Leonnig , Trump answered , “ Then we ’ ll pardon them.
” By now , any dispassionate reading of the Mueller report , the impeachment investigation , and the accumulating record of journalism can lead to but one conclusion : we have been warned .
♦

Illustration by João Fazenda
On January 23, 2017, Donald Trump’s fourth day as President, he met with congressional leaders in the State Dining Room of the White House. “You know, I won the popular vote,” he started off, and then repeated the calumny that Hillary Clinton had received three to five million illegal votes, owing to fraud. “That’s not true,” Nancy Pelosi replied, according to “A Very Stable Genius,” the recently published account of the Trump Presidency by the Washington Post reporters Philip Rucker and Carol Leonnig. “If we’re going to work together,” Pelosi said, “we have to stipulate to a certain set of facts.” Steve Bannon, then Trump’s chief strategist, who was in the room, whispered to colleagues, “She’s going to get us. Total assassin.”
Pelosi did become one of Trump’s most unflinching adversaries, in part because she grasped early on that invitations to his White House are often just call sheets for unscripted television; her finger-jabbing readiness to get in Trump’s face has made her a recurring meme of the Democratic resistance. She offered her most vivid performance yet on February 4th, during the President’s third State of the Union address. As Trump spoke, Pelosi, wearing suffragist white, sat behind him in the high-backed chair reserved for the Speaker of the House of Representatives, and conspicuously shuffled and reshuffled a printed copy of the President’s speech. After he finished, she tore the text in half. Twitter blew up, as the Speaker had clearly intended; she explained that she had abandoned decorum because Trump’s speech “was a manifesto of mistruths.”
Hashtag wars are the President’s terrain, however; the conflict between Pelosi and Trump matters most for what it says about the questionable health of the Constitution’s system of checks and balances. After the 2018 midterm elections, when Democrats regained control of the House but not the Senate, Pelosi, who will turn eighty in March, was elected House Speaker, overcoming opposition from progressive and younger representatives by promising to relinquish her post by 2022. Last year, as the Mueller investigation wound down, Pelosi resisted calls from many Democrats to launch an impeachment inquiry. She argued that the idea lacked public support, even as the Mueller report turned out to be damning, particularly in its litany of examples of likely obstruction of justice. Pelosi’s judgment seemed to be grounded in political realism: even if the President were impeached, the chances remained slim to vanishing that the Republican-controlled Senate—cowed by Trump’s base and by allied demagogues on the airwaves—would convict and remove him from office by the necessary two-thirds vote. Why impeach Trump if he could describe an acquittal as vindication, using it to denounce his enemies and to rally his following?
Last September, after the Ukraine matter broke, Pelosi concluded—at the urging of both progressives and centrists in her House caucus—that this time the evidence was different. Trump’s abuse of U.S. military aid and economic power to coerce Ukraine to investigate Joe Biden, she said, had crossed a line from “bad behavior” to presenting “a challenge to our Constitution.” The House hearings that followed, despite a hurried schedule and White House obstruction, created a convincing record of Trump’s blithe disregard of a President’s duty to place the national interest before his own. For all its political risks, Pelosi told the Times early this month, the impeachment investigation succeeded, because it “pulled back a veil of behavior totally unacceptable to our founders. . . . The public will see this with a clearer eye, an unblurred eye.” She implied that such clarity would shape the judgment of voters in November, but she also seemed to acknowledge uncertainty about the coming election: “Whatever happens, he has been impeached forever.”
When the Senate exonerated Trump, this week, following his brief and witness-free impeachment trial, the most striking reminder of the constitutional issues at stake was provided by Mitt Romney, the Republican Presidential nominee in 2012, as he joined a united Democratic caucus to vote for Trump’s conviction on the article charging abuse of power. In eloquent remarks, he described the President’s conduct as “a flagrant assault on our electoral rights, our national security, and our fundamental values.” He went on, “Corrupting an election to keep oneself in office is perhaps the most abusive and destructive violation of one’s oath of office that I can imagine.”
Whether Trump will nonetheless become the first President in U.S. history to be impeached and then reëlected remains a matter of mortal dread among many Democrats. For a President presiding over a growing economy and low unemployment, Trump’s disapproval ratings remain high, but incumbents with not much better numbers have gone on to win a second term. His followers still camp out overnight to gain admission to his rallies. Given the widespread animus toward the President in big blue states like California and New York, it seems doubtful that he can win the popular vote in November, yet recent state polls show that he has a plausible path to an Electoral College victory, similar to the one he constructed in 2016. Democratic voters seem motivated to defeat Trump above all other goals, yet they must first navigate a Presidential nominating contest in which there is no decisive front-runner and plenty of potential for divisiveness.
In “A Very Stable Genius,” Rucker and Leonnig provide an arresting narrative of how Trump has come to operate with far fewer constraints and much greater conviction about the soundness of his own instincts. The President’s ignorance can be staggering. (On a tour of the U.S.S. Arizona Memorial, he made clear to his chief of staff at the time, John Kelly, that he did not know what had happened at Pearl Harbor.) But the book’s most frightening scenes document Trump’s indifference to the rule of law, compounded, in some cases, by his reliance on right-wing television personalities for ideas. In 2018, he grew deeply frustrated with then Homeland Security Secretary Kirstjen Nielsen, because she ignored border-security proposals floated by the Fox Business host Lou Dobbs; she had concluded that the proposals were infeasible or illegal. When Trump insisted that Nielsen act as he wanted, she told him, “Federal law enforcement doesn’t work like that. . . . These people have taken an oath to uphold the law. Do you really want to tell them to do the opposite?” According to Rucker and Leonnig, Trump answered, “Then we’ll pardon them.” By now, any dispassionate reading of the Mueller report, the impeachment investigation, and the accumulating record of journalism can lead to but one conclusion: we have been warned. ♦