What I think happened with Dowd is that her snarky style was a big hit when she was covering the White House and presidential campaigns so the Times thought "great writer, let's give her a column." And I can well imagine wanting to read Dowd's description of Bush interacting with the press on Air Force One, for example, but as a columnist, she just has nothing to say.
Watching "six degrees of separation" here. It's so strange how stylized the broadway crowd is. For all the faults of hollywood, it's no more constrained and steretyping than the forces of broadway.
But it finished strong. (But still eminently broadway-esque.) The very last bit is a little precious, with the husband admitting that his life is about being a gambler. But the late emergence of the nurturer from the numbing sameness of mutual party chattiness was quite sharp. And a message on another dimension about what our lives mean beyond how we portray them to others. Which at first struck me as interesting but disconnected, and now strikes me as being very connected to the figure of young Poitier trying to be accepted for his abilities rather than accomplished. Recognized rather than worthy.
I don't see the "six degrees" bit being all that interesting, however.
"Or something like that."
Oh, I'd say it's just like that.
By the way, why _does_ Maureen Dowd have a NYTimes column?
Posted by Invisible Adjunct | Link to this comment | 07- 7-03 1:27 PM
What I think happened with Dowd is that her snarky style was a big hit when she was covering the White House and presidential campaigns so the Times thought "great writer, let's give her a column." And I can well imagine wanting to read Dowd's description of Bush interacting with the press on Air Force One, for example, but as a columnist, she just has nothing to say.
(Don't forget she also has a Pulitzer!)
Posted by ogged | Link to this comment | 07- 7-03 1:47 PM
Blog within a blog.
Watching "six degrees of separation" here. It's so strange how stylized the broadway crowd is. For all the faults of hollywood, it's no more constrained and steretyping than the forces of broadway.
Posted by Magik | Link to this comment | 07- 8-03 12:40 AM
But it finished strong. (But still eminently broadway-esque.) The very last bit is a little precious, with the husband admitting that his life is about being a gambler. But the late emergence of the nurturer from the numbing sameness of mutual party chattiness was quite sharp. And a message on another dimension about what our lives mean beyond how we portray them to others. Which at first struck me as interesting but disconnected, and now strikes me as being very connected to the figure of young Poitier trying to be accepted for his abilities rather than accomplished. Recognized rather than worthy.
I don't see the "six degrees" bit being all that interesting, however.
Posted by Magik | Link to this comment | 07- 8-03 1:04 AM