Addiction, Inc. - Emily Dufton (2026)

We live in a broken country. Our citizens are gunned down on the street for trying to protect the vulnerable from overzealous agents instructed to disregard all prior concepts of law and justice, and labeled "domestic terrorists." Our President routinely targets judges that issue orders in any kind of opposition to his edicts--even the Supreme Court, even after appointing 3 of the 9 on it. Officials in the administration are swiftly fired when public outcry over their party-fueled machinations becomes politically inconvenient. Charlatans abound throughout the halls of government, and anti-intellectualism continues to stretch towards a more complete apotheosis, as A.I. deep-fakes and bot accounts trigger the online ecosystem, dividing people with black & white thinking, an imbecilic riposte for every thoughtful rebuttal, couched in righteousness. They claim to be People of God and are granted audiences with the Pope, only to later insult and accuse him of not understanding theology when he opposes warmongering and the military industrial complex, pleading for dialogue and diplomacy and decency--three D's they have determined to be ineffectual, after performative attempts at such have maintained the status quo. Our leaders in power are not serious people and do not appear to know what they are doing. 

They wanted to make this country great, as it once was, and it seemed unclear where they thought it had gone wrong. Perhaps it was great at the time of the American Revolution, or before the Civil War, or after the Civil War, or in the period of WWI or WWII--but most likely, it seemed post-WWII, pre-1964 Civil Rights Act, when the Baby Boomers emerged as a contingent and the American people appeared to enjoy a higher standard of living than most of the rest of the world. By the time President Kennedy was assassinated, the country began to grow apart and the two political parties in control of government became more divided. There was a civil rights movement, and more assassinations, and entry into a conflict in Vietnam, and a new President that had barely lost to Kennedy 8 years earlier, horrified at the prospect of losing a second term. 

Perhaps it was somewhere in there--or perhaps it was about 10 years later, when President Reagan was elected and significant reorganization of government shifted priorities from social safety nets to corporate safety nets and established the predominant global economy. 

Or perhaps it was 10 years later, or 10 years after that, when our country was attacked by terrorists and we banded together in solidarity and the opportunity to exploit the moment proved too irresistible. Unquestionably however, it ended with the election of President Obama. It was at that moment that our country fell into disrepair, and the backlash against a generally progressive society began to foment. America was ceasing to be great because a relatively small swathe of conservatives set out on a mission to prove the first black President did not know what he was doing and was leading our country into "third-world" status. Their movement steadily grew and they had a willing demagogue and they convinced enough people that it was time for radical change and then attempted to copy President Reagan and restore the United States to its rightful place as a  global superpower--never mind that it had never really slipped from that position. They convinced everyone it had, and chaos has ensued, and we are currently spiraling towards what we fear may be total oblivion. 

And so what, if anything, do drugs have to do with all of that? 

***

Addiction, Inc. is Dr. Emily Dufton's long-awaited follow-up to Grass Roots: the Rise and Fall and Rise of Marijuana in America, which appeared in 2017 and foreshadowed the widespread decriminalization and legalization of that "drug." Marijuana is known as the "gateway drug" that leads towards "harder" and more dangerous substances, with heroin at the other extreme. Oxycontin supplanted heroin as a legal alternative, but it was not a treatment to stem the addictive nature of the opiate. Not unlike vaping as an alternative to cigarette-smoking, while it doesn't seem as unhealthy, it can exacerbate the addiction because of convenience of use. Now Fentanyl has supplanted Oxycontin as restrictions have made that drug less potent and accessible. The landscape has shifted and the "problem of addiction" continues to evade grasp. This book does its part to solve that puzzle and it is thus essential reading for anyone that cares in the slightest about drug policy reform. Unfortunately for this moment in the United States, we may need to wait for meaningful change. (I will briefly give credit where it is due to the administration for rescheduling marijuana to Schedule III, though that appears to remain partially in flux as of this writing; I have otherwise little confidence that the Department of Health & Human Services will effect positive change in this area, despite the "opportunity" that its Secretary's status as a former heroin addict presents, to say nothing of the Vice President's well-documented family struggles.)

One wonders how Kennedy got "clean," (very basic internet research indicates an overdose, a treatment program in New Jersey, 12-Steps and a rekindling of faith) and perhaps the best way individuals can overcome this "weakness" is by learning from the specific stories of others. Addiction, Inc. is not focused on such human interest items. Though they are referenced at moments, it is focused on the bigger picture of treatment reform--the success stories are those of the programs.  

Most of us have known someone that died of an overdose. It happens everywhere, but it happens in certain places more than others. Dufton's hometown of Allentown, PA is one such locale, and her friend Dana was one such victim. This is not a psychological portrait of Dana or a deeper exploration of his struggle, but a snapshot of Dufton's perspective from the distance that arises between high school friends over time, particularly those that fade from view because of such struggles. The Introduction beginning from this very personal place then offers a roadmap of the entire landscape the book explores in finer detail. In 20 pages, it offers up its central thesis, and in the ensuing 367, it presents its evidence, starting from an overarching assessment and the culmination of a decade of research:

"Over the past fifty years, MAT [Medication-Assisted Treatment] has transformed from a radical federal public health initiative, launched to make addiction treatment accessible and appealing, into a successful, if clearly insufficient, commercial industry--even as the opioid problem in America got worse....We have forgotten the war that Richard Nixon launched on June 17, 1971. It is perhaps the most infamous, and most misunderstood, date in American drug history. But it doesn't have to stay that way. If we remember what we once forgot, perhaps we can also make a change." (20)

***

Nixon's Presidency may be the moment when everything changed between the two parties and divisions became more extreme. Lewis Powell's memo in 1971 is credited as the blueprint of the modern conservative movement, and it may be seen as a type of precursor to Project 2025. Regardless, it seems Nixon was overly fixated on winning his 2nd term, and if he wasn't beset by so much doubt of his own popularity, his reputation would not have suffered as it has. As I grew up, depending on the teacher, either Nixon or Carter were labeled the "worst President ever" (two others would later make stronger cases). It does appear Nixon's personal beliefs were a bit uncouth, and some of his actions were highly questionable, but I do not think he needed to carry out the Watergate break-in to win, and perhaps that had an undeniable impact on the future of electoral politics, to say nothing of his unprecedented resignation (which now feels "classy"). Regardless, even though he was a Republican, like most Presidents up to that point, he spoke to everyone and he did not play favorites for all the Yes Men on his side. This supposedly evil man also shepherded the EPA into existence along with the Clean Air Act, the Endangered Species Act, affirmative action, school desegregation, supplemental security income, restoration of native American rights, and the ending of the draft. It may be overly simplistic, but safe to say, America was great when Republicans still wanted to be progressive, too. 

The Vietnam War presented perhaps the major obstacle for his reelection, since it was very unpopular. And here finally we come to the Addiction, Inc. connection, which is that many soldiers in Vietnam were drugged up--sometimes with psychedelics, and sometimes with heroin that was easily procured in Vietnam. Nixon wanted to end the war and gain supporters, and part of that plan included care for veterans, who seemed particularly traumatized after seeing so many of their friends killed for reasons more pointless than ever before. There had also been a low-key opiate drug problem in the U.S. going back to the Civil War, with morphine, and various developments over those 100 years leading up to the vogue of heroin in several urban centers. More young people were using in Vietnam, and if the war was going to end, they were going to come home, addicted to the deadliest drug, without jobs or income waiting for them. Thus, crimes perpetrated by such "G.I. Junkies," bent on procuring heroin by any means possible, were anticipated to make many places in America much more dangerous than before. Enter Jerome Jaffe. 

***

Jaffe is one of several heroes in this story and is first introduced as a 36-year-old psychiatrist operating the Illinois Drug Abuse Program (IDAP) in 1970. Dufton's description of IDAP echoes throughout the text as a prototypical example of a treatment program that works. They share several common features:

"Each clinic was small, treating just a hundred patients, and staffed by a part-time physician, two nurses, and five peer counselors. To make patients feel comfortable, all peer counselors were former heroin users themselves. 'IDAP was a pacesetter in its use of ex-addict personnel for virtually all treatment roles other than those filled by physicians and nurses,' [Dr. Patrick] Hughes [clinical director] said, a model later mirrored nationwide. Clinics were also culturally specific. 'A clinic in a Black neighborhood was generally served by Black staff,' Hughes said. 'If patients were predominantly Latin or white, the staff also tended to be Latin or white.' As comfortable, friendly, and integrated locations, neighborhood methadone clinics were 'community experiments in heroin control,' Hughes said, 'dynamic and experimental, not rigid or bureaucratic.'" (95-96)

Jeffrey Donfeld, a Young Republican and "Whiz Kid" aide to the Nixon administration, interviewed Jaffe and wrote dozens of letters and memos to the White House, emphasizing Jaffe's reports on the success of IDAP. Nixon was suspicious of all drug use and skeptical of the optics of endorsing methadone as a public good, but various events in 1971--specifically the rising violent crime rate and impending return of "G.I. junkies" from the front--led him to reconsider his beliefs. Heroin had flooded America and Vietnam, and Jaffe argued the only way to bring down drug use and crime was to flood the country with treatment in response, "to make treatment so available that no one has to commit a crime to support a habit because they cannot get treatment." (116) Nixon himself then introduced the Special Action Office for Drug Abuse Prevention (SAODAP), which Addiction, Inc. focuses on heavily in its first half. 

Nixon loved Jaffe and shocked him by appointing him ("by ambush") as the first leader of this agency, which was especially powerful. It would control vast federal funds and have the ability to allocate money at will, and it would be housed within the Executive Branch, with Jaffe reporting directly to Nixon himself. In the announcing the agency in a press conference, Nixon noted that strict drug laws were "not sufficient in themselves to eliminate drug abuse," and that, "enforcement must be coupled with a rational approach to the reclamation of the drug user himself...we must rehabilitate the drug user if we are to eliminate drug abuse and all the antisocial activities that flow from it." (120). He signed Executive Order 11599 and requested $155 million from Congress to address the "demand" side of drugs, bringing the federal drug budget to $371 million. This allocated $105 million to SAODAP--more than double what Donfeld originally requested--to fund a new system of clinics nationwide, engage in groundbreaking research and expand the rehabilitation capacity of the VA. Nixon also suggested that if Jaffe determined it needed more money, he would take care of that. 

Later it was legally recognized by Congress in the Drug Abuse Office and Treatment Act of 1972, and allocated $400 million--2/3 of the federal drug budget--to spend on treatment, prevention, research and education. It was also given the firm end date of June 30, 1975, with the National Institute on Drug Abuse (NIDA) subsuming its efforts, moving it out of the White House and into the Department of Health, Education and Welfare.  

It achieved its goals, but just as in any comprehensive history that endeavors to remain impartial, that is not 100% true and the devil is in the details. As Jaffe later reminisced, "'I had a feeling, almost from the first day, that the willingness to look at the demand side, rather than the law enforcement approach, might be a transient phenomenon. And I was right." (122)

Part I of Addiction, Inc. ("The Cinderella Drug: Methadone") concerns SAODAP's origins and early years, and is arguably the most fascinating section as it uncovers the political process behind the creation of such an office (such a story on DOGE should be forthcoming, if it is not already out there). Jaffe has the leading role, but he recedes into the background of the book after his resignation as SAODAP's Director on June 17, 1973, leaving to study nicotine in New York. Working under H.R. Haldeman was difficult, and Jaffe said there was not a day on the job he enjoyed--except the last, which Dufton describes in cinematic detail:

"Cups of champagne were passed around, and a White House photographer captured dozens of images of guests drinking and dancing. One image captured the rarest thing of all. As his clinics were attacked and the Nixon White House began its slow dissolution into Watergate, the nation's first drug czar was seen laughing with colleagues, visibly relieved to be done with the job." (165)  

While Nixon had declared that the country had turned the corner on heroin in 1973, it came back with a vengeance in 1974. By June of that year, cheap, potent, plentiful gum-like brown heroin from Mexico went from West Coast to national ubiquity, replacing the French Connection's weak, expensive and rare white powder.  In July of that year, Turkey announced it would no longer adhere to its opium ban, restarting the European heroin trade. On August 9th, Nixon resigned, for other reasons. 

Before that, he had appointed Robert DuPont to replace Jaffe as Director of SAODAP and oversee its transition into NIDA. This happened almost a year earlier than Congress had intended, as Gerald Ford sought to distance himself from anything reeking too strongly of the former President. Vice President Nelson Rockefeller, who had been opposed to treatment, aided in "banishing" the agency to its new offices in Rockville, MD, "ignoring" its controversial clinics. While Jaffe had accomplished his mission, curbing drug abuse and heroin addiction measurably, it seems as though the moment he left it all began to fall apart. As DuPont said, "The game became holding on, rather than expanding. We lost our morale--and our direction." (174) Enter LAAM.

***

Part 2 of Addiction, Inc. recenters the narrative from the White House to the lab, so to speak, and explores alternatives to methadone--l-alpha-acetylmethadol (LAAM), Naltrexone, and Buprenorphine. LAAM effectively provided the same effects as methadone, but only required 3 office visits per week instead of daily dosing. While it had been discovered by Eli Lilly in 1949, the company did not consider it marketable for use as an analgesic. Jaffe had been interested in LAAM since 1965 and undertook a small study of it at University of Chicago in 1969, then published an article in 1970 demonstrating its practical therapeutic advantages. When DuPont took over SAODAP, he envisioned replacing methadone clinics with LAAM clinics, but the drug needed FDA approval. Dufton describes this labyrinthine, technical process--and the strange quirks involved with LAAM specifically--about as electrically as possible for laypersons while speaking the language of research scientists. It is too difficult to summarize the twists and turns of its funding and development and tabloid controversies in a review that has already gone deeper than it should elsewhere--because it is a long story that essentially ends with LAAM languishing for decades under a mountain of red tape until its eventual appearance on the market. Amidst that process, DuPont was forced to resign, after NIDA had been accused of impropriety and cronyism. As other antitrust issues arose with regard to exclusivity of patent rights and potential profits to a private company funded by government contracts formed by John Whysner, LAAM's days appeared numbered:

"'It seems to me Dr. Whysner has a pretty good deal,' [Henry] Waxman [California Democrat heading the NIDA hearings in March 1979] said. 'The equivalent of a $70,000 salary, no legal liability, and the government assumes all the risks and responsibility for his willingness to develop LAAM. Dr. Whysner is then rewarded with the exclusive right to sale of the drug for eight years. Is that correct?...I don't know how pervasive this kind of practice is at NIDA...but when you find smoke, perhaps there's more fire.'" (187)

After DuPont's resignation in July 1978, NIDA had been left leaderless for 9 months, and had "degenerated...into an 'incestous' office filled with nepotism, fraud, and waste." (191) Dr. William Pollin, a psychiatrist and World War II veteran that had overseen NIDA's biomedical research division--the only one that didn't "embarass itself"--became its new director in March 1979. Under his tenure, it essentially turned into a research institute, forgoing the treatment and education services that had made it an interdisciplinary office dedicated to making real social change. Reagan was elected in a landslide in 1980 on a very focused agenda of curbing government spending. He also had his "war on drugs," but it materialized in the "Just Say No" campaigns spearheaded by his wife Nancy, focused on eliminating future users, speaking to kids about the dangers of cannabis, rather than adult heroin users. The law and order approach returned, and national drug arrests shot up from 50,000 to 60,000 between 1980 and 1982. NIDA's funding was also reshaped by Reagan into block grants distributed to states by his signing of the Omnibus Budget Reconciliation Act in August 1981. There were even further cuts signaling Reagan's abandonment of methadone, and all NIDA personnel involved in drug treatment services were removed from the institute's payroll. Its research mission remained intact, however, and with LAAM languishing in legal morass since 1979, Pollin explored other alternatives. Enter Naltrexone. 

***

I recall distinctly when reading this section that it was the clearest explanation of the chemical impact of one of these drugs on the brain, if also slightly confusing:

"Thebaine, an alkaloid derived from the opium poppy, is the source of many opioid drugs. These include semisynthetic opioid agonists, like oxycodone and hydrocodone, which fill the brain's opioid receptors and provide the pleasurable, and sometimes deadly, effects. But in the early 1960's, chemists at Endo [Endo Pharmaceuticals, who first synthesized EN-1619A, i.e. naltrexone, in 1963] discovered that thebaine was also, importantly, the source of opioid agonists' opposite: opioid antagonists, drugs which have no physical effects themselves--no high, no addictive properties, no withdrawal--but have the distinct power to counteract an opioid's use by blocking the brain's opioid receptors completely. In 1961, Endo chemists synthesized naloxone, a short-acting antagonist that kicked opioids out of the brain so effectively that chemists called it the 'Lazarus drug' because of how fast it reversed an overdose. Naltrexone, which Endo synthesized two years later, was as powerful as naloxone but longer lasting. An oral dose of fifty milligrams of naltrexone bound to a patient's brain so completely that patients were 'blocked' from the effects of opioids for roughly twenty-hour hours, regardless of how much of an opioid they consumed. (One naltrexone patient injected over $500 worth of heroin and was 'frustrated,' researchers found, when he felt no effects.) Patients had to take naltrexone daily--if they didn't, the dose would quickly wear off--but by effectively, if temporarily, rendering opioids useless, Endo believed it had created a heroin 'vaccine.'" (202-203)

The drug was designed to treat "the motivated addict" (and thus supplies to the title of the chapter)--physicians and business executives "under 'immense pressure from external sources'--like medical boards threatening addicted doctors' licenses, bosses threatening dismissal, or spouses threatening divorce--to stop, rather than maintain, opioid use. For these patients, naltrexone's forced abstinence was a benefit, not a hindrance." (205) It debuted on November 28, 1984, and could be prescribed immediately, to be taken at home. Effectively, naltrexone succeeded where LAAM had failed--but I can't help but think of this as being like Chantix, which notably can increase suicidal thoughts and doesn't provide any nicotine buzz like the gum or now Zyn pouches or vaping (undoubtedly the most harmful nicotine delivery device--and all of these are addicting to one degree or another, though the gum may be the best option). I'm sure Chantix worked for a great number of people, but I know it also does not, and so it makes sense (even if the chemical mechanism here is not exactly comparable) that naltrexone was not going to work for everyone, either. Some other drug would need to be developed at some point--but NIDA and the Reagan administration had a bigger problem, by 1986.

*** 

The next chapter, "The Dark Ages," introduces another of the dramatis personae featured across Addiction, Inc.--Charles Schuster, who replaced Pollin as NIDA's director in March 1986. Though Reagan had slashed funding for this agency by various mechanisms, he would soon pump more money into it than ever before. Due to the infamous cocaine overdose of Len Bias, that drug became a focal point in the "war," along with its cheaper counterpart, crack. Crack had an impact on the homicide rate and crime not necessarily because people were resorting to thievery to afford the drug, but because rival gangs selling the drug wanted to send a message about their territory. The bigger impact on NIDA funding, however, was the emergence of HIV and AIDS. 

In 1981, HIV had first been recognized in 19 gay men in L.A., which led Reagan's press secretary to dub it "the gay plague." By 1986, there were 38,000 cases, and in that year alone 16,400 infections were reported. It was soon recognized that the virus spread not only through sexual contact but also blood contact, and many intravenous drug users were heavily at risk, due to lack of education and awareness of status. It was no longer just a problem for the gay community, but its role in the passage of the Anti-Drug Abuse Act of 1986 was questionable. The Act brought the drug budget total to $3 billion, earmarking hundreds of millions of dollars for state and local police, and $97 million for new prison construction. NIDA's budget also grew from $81 million to $107 million, and the potential for methadone to help stem the tide of infections became clear--if less people used heroin, less people would share needles to shoot up, which would help lower infections--but the Reagan administration did not consider its use consonant with its "zero tolerance" philosophy. So despite this increase, it was not for methadone, but for cannabis research. While Reagan had formed a commission to study the HIV epidemic, he did not agree with the recommendations of the report it issued--a federal AIDS anti-discrimination law and requests for expanded treatment. Americans were sympathetic to "victims" of HIV (unknowing sexual partners and babies born infected), but less to those that used illegal drugs. 

Funding for NIDA continued to rise as George H.R. Bush became President, from $198 million in 1988, $320 million in 1990, and $416 million in 1992. While it was not allowed to spend on treatment or harm reduction, the floodgates had been opened for research. Bush referred to his vision of the 90's as "the Decade of the Brain," and the effects of addiction were studied. With the additional funding, Schuster wanted to return to the problem that had bedeviled them, and to develop another alternative treatment. This began with the resuscitation of LAAM, which finally went on sale in April 1994 under the name Orlaam, but it was not embraced by methadone clinics or patients, in part because clinics had been privatized and turned into more commercial entities: 

"LAAM had been led to slaughter, rejected by clinics and ignored by society, as NIDA pursued its 'neurological revolution.' 'NIDA finds a cure for addiction and what's the reaction?' [Karst] Besteman [who had been purged from NIDA in 1981] asked. 'A yawn. I guess it's just more prestigious to figure out therapeutics for respectable diseases versus why people get addicted to drugs.'" (257) 

In this climate and era, when heroin chic entered pop culture and its use began to spike, along with the continuing battle to stem the HIV/AIDS epidemic, the need for yet another treatment alternative arose. Enter Buprenorphine. 

***

Rather than delve as deeply into Parts III and IV as I and II, it suffices to say III (The "Holy Grail": Buprenorphine) represents a turning point in Addiction, Inc. If Part II moves out of NIDA's government cradle and into the research lab, Part III takes the narrative into the Boardroom and features another "hero"--Charles O'Keeffe, a drug consultant who worked for Reckitt & Colman, a UK-based "grocery company" whose chemists had also created products such as Woolite, Mop & Glo and Colman's mustard. It discovered the drug in 1966, marketed it as Temgesic, and washed its hands of it in the mid-80s after "thrill-seekers" began to crush and inject the pills. It was designed to be an non-addictive opioid, and while it still was not addictive, Reckitt did not want to be associated with a drug with such a negative reputation. It sold its American licensing contract to Norwich Eaton and ceased all pharmaceutical activities. Two years later, with the Board dismayed by the slow sales of the drug in the U.S., it wanted to end its relationship with Norwich Eaton, and O'Keeffe convinced the Board to develop the drug into a maintenance medication, envisioning a partnership with NIDA to bring that about, not unlike with LAAM. 

It's difficult to review this book without including some basic education it provides, or re-summarizing the consistently thorough history of this industry presented. But in an attempt to make a long story short, O'Keeffe shepherds "bupe" through numerous minefields and obtains FDA approval in 2002, with two versions of the drug: Subutex, for on-site dispensing at clinics, and Suboxone, a combination of buprenorphine and naloxone that could be prescribed by physicians and taken at home. 

Anyone that came of age in the early 2000s will have some knowledge of Purdue Pharmaceuticals and its marketing practices for Oxycontin. When I first heard rumblings of this book's publication, I expected it to be akin to Empire of Pain (which inspired a Netflix drama series), or an expose of the rehab industry and its 28-day stays to "cure" addiction, which often led to relapse. While both are referenced, Part III effectively becomes a miniature version of the former--for Suboxone. And this story is not nearly as widely known.

***

Ultimately, drug history holds up a mirror to capitalism, as formerly illegal drugs are redeveloped for "safer" consumption and marketed as relentlessly as corporations require to maintain year-after-year growth and profit delivery for shareholders. Oxycontin is the most prominent example of this. Rescheduling of marijuana is another facet of it. Physician-supervised ketamine therapy and commercialized psilocybin (see Definium Therapeutics f/k/a Mind Medicine) are others. Libertarianism has risen and a more permissive attitude towards drug use has followed. Street drugs remain available of course, but increasingly, the same drugs can be procured with doctors' notes and purchased from dispensaries and pharmacies. 

While Purdue had "started the fire" with OxyContin, RBP (f/k/a Reckitt) could "sell the hose," and after Part III does for buprenorphine what Part II does for LAAM, it shifts focus to Gail Groves Scott and Anne Marie Williams, "customer liaisons" who both worked to market and sell Suboxone. Scott had been laid off from Purdue as a sales rep in December 2004, and was recruited by RBP in February 2005; Williams started at RBP in 2009. These were good days for the industry and Suboxone generated $894 million in 2009, but RBP's exclusive hold on it due to "orphan drug" status ended on 10/8/09, with a generic version of Subutex entering the market for 1/3 of the price at the same time. RBP launched "Mission: Protect" in the face of it, which probably violated the Anti-Kickback Statute. Apart from rewarding physicians for prescribing more of it, "CLs" like Scott and Williams emphasized that generic versions of Subutex did not contain the antagonist Naloxone, and were more likely to be misused. Another generic version of Suboxone was being developed, however, and RBP needed to shift strategy to maintain its position as market leader. 

This led to Suboxone Film. No longer a hexagonal table, the drug would be packaged as an individually wrapped and barcoded sublingual film able to be tracked and less easily diverted. The FDA approved this in 2010, and RBP acquired thirteen years of patent protection. Primarily, it was promoted as an enhanced child safety measure, because if discovered by them and taken, it would only be exposure to one dose. The FDA was skeptical of this and had required a more thorough risk evaluation and mitigation strategy (REMS)--which RBP demonstrated by promising to track rates of diversion and pediatric exposure via the barcode on the filmstrips. Generic Suboxone was on the horizon for 2013, and RBP "blitzed" even harder now that they could sell the sublingual film, leaning heavily on the pediatric safety point. 

To convince MassHealth to reimburse only Suboxone Film and not generic buprenorphine tablets, Williams and Dr. Jane Ruby--a top executive at RBP overseeing the account--determined they would need support from superior safety data. Which leads to the silliest moment in the book:

"Unfortunately, she knew she couldn't generate useful data...RBP had promised the FDA that individual strip numbers would reduce diversion because RBP would track where each strip went, but the company never set up a tracking system, so the ten-digit codes printed on every Suboxone wrapper were meaningless." (320)

Instead, pulling exposure data in late 2012 from the surveillance researchers RADARS, Ruby identified accidental pediatric exposure for children under 6 was low: 3.3 exposures per 10,000 units of Suboxone tablets, 2.7 exposures per 10,000 units of film, and 1.8 exposures per 10,000 units of generic buprenorphine. Adding the tablets together versus the film, it appeared to be twice as safe. MassHealth approved reimbursement several months later, and Ruby pulled RADARS data again a month after the approval, finding that exposures had jumped. Adults were taking 1/2 of a dose and leaving half a strip in the package, which was enough for an ER visit for kids, and enough to put exposure numbers above tablets. After other developments, including a citizen petition for the FDA to block generic buprenorphine-naloxone tablets, citing safety concerns, and a plan to withdraw tablets from the market, Scott and Williams felt increasingly uncomfortable with what they were being asked to do.

Scott voiced complaints about regulatory risks and was fired. Williams voiced complaints about overprescribing and was promoted. She then contacted lawyers specializing in whistleblower cases and began wearing a wire. Ultimately, seven years later, it resulted in a non-prosecution agreement with the DOJ, a resolution including a fine over $2 billion. Four other whistleblowers also split a settlement of $92 million, with Williams provided a materially higher percentage for the unique facts she uncovered. And while there is much more to the story of buprenorphine than can be neatly summarized in a review, it feels fair to say that Addiction, Inc. presents the most thorough examination of this dramatic arc yet. 

***

The book ends in Switzerland, and this review runs far too long, and so I won't reveal too much about about Part IV except to say it is the shortest section, and the most dazzling, because it is there where Dufton presents her solution. She examines the drug problem in Zurich, the open-air drug market of Platzspitz Park, and the response of the Swiss government to that:

"Platszpitz quickly became a public health disaster as well. By the mid-1980s, because of shared needles and unprotected sex, almost a third of heroin usersliving in Needle Park were HIV positive, along with almost a quarter of Swiss heroin users nationwide. And with a thousand people streaming into Platszpitz daily to score--and to share needles and buy sex--the virus's threat was only poised to grow. Now Zurich wasn't just home to the continent's largest open-air drug scene. It was also Europe's leading source of HIV infection." (355)

The primary criticism I can make of Addiction, Inc. is the missed Pavement easter egg opportunity of referring to Zurich as "stained." In any case, it provides a surprising perspective on that song title, and ends the book on one of its most fascinating notes--a semi-first-person account of the research trip undertaken to solve this impossible problem.  

***

By this point in the review, the overarching message of this book should be clear: we have been here before, and these are the things we have tried, and they have not worked because of forces conspiring to manipulate the problem into a business proposition. It ends in Switzerland because the Swiss have taken lessons learned from various failed policies implemented, developed a system that "works," and remain attentive to the opioid crisis as an ongoing societal ill (even going as far as providing dosing of actual heroin administered by nurses to a very small subset of users under strict conditions). 

Dufton wants to believe this is possible in the United States (while remaining skeptical that such radical interventions are politically feasible), and it is true we may be making strides--overdose deaths in the U.S. dropped from 79,358 in 2023 to 54,045 in 2024--but the problem remains out of hand. From a crude google search that probably is not nearly as specific as it should be, I find these numbers: 

1970: around 7,100.
1980: around 6,100.
1990: round 8,400.
2000: over 17,400.
2010: 38,239
2020: 91,799

Clearly something happened in the 90s, and by exploring how that reality came to be at a very high level, taking all of the myriad circumstances into account and demonstrating a cognizable pattern of conduct, the book is a gift to anyone currently fighting to change the narrative direction of this country. It all seems to be coming down to a matter of trust and the level of distrust in our fellow human beings feels like it is at an all-time high. "People are not looking out for our best interests, they're looking out for their own, and anyone that suggests otherwise is naive," they say, as if eternally self-evident. 

Both sides are deadlocked in black-or-white belief systems that are diametrically opposed, but there are many areas where broader agreement can still be achieved. Bringing the number of overdose deaths as close to 0 as possible should be one such area. 

Still, many will point to homelessness as a sub-issue that impacts quality of life concerns on a level similar to the quality of life concerns that methadone clinics presented in the 1970s. Many will point to the causes of homelessness, with one major source being drug addiction, and few will say such people deserve to die on the street--the worst amongst us lament Reagan's closure of public mental institutions, and that seems the least nefarious of their precepts. I do not think we will go back to that in any case, and Dufton's analysis here paints a path forward that would have a huge impact on that "problematic" population. (The only other pseudo-criticism I can offer is that Addiction, Inc. does not go far enough down this path to examine the problem of crystal meth addiction, which feels like an entirely different beast, likely deserving of its own volume.) 

This is an important book and it is sadly all too relevant for millions of Americans that have been impacted by this crisis. The book will likely be therapeutic for anyone in that category. One hopes it will also find its way to the people that have the power to "do better" than some of the individuals featured that once wielded such authority. It does its own small part in trying to make the world a better place, and in my opinion, a book can have no higher aim. Addiction, Inc. hits that mark, and even if it does not slow the locomotive of the market-driven economy of addiction medication, it will help save lives. Perhaps one day too, in the distant or not-too-distant future, serious people will find it and take it seriously, and we will advance towards that greater vision of a utopian society that values the lives of all. 

Tender is the Night - F. Scott Fitzgerald (1934)

Oeuvre rule: Finally, 5 months after the previous review, and nearly 17 years since The Beautiful and Damned (still the #1 post on Flying Houses after all this time) and nearly 18 years since This Side of Paradise, the blog now has 1.4 million views and we have finally gotten around to Tender is the Night. Will we ever review The Great Gatsby and The Last Tycoon? Revisiting the former could be dangerous--a few months ago I got an email from Blake Butler's substack that re-posted his re-assessment of Gatsby, which was a total takedown that felt somewhat unfair--and I'd rather maintain my idea of it as the quintessential and definitive Great American Novel, as most all high schools dictate. Revisiting the latter--which friends and I once pronounced would have been his greatest novel of all, if finished, and which Edmund Wilson considered his "most mature work" (317)--will be a necessity. It's clear that some of the best writers have small oeuvres, and we could point to a similar assessment of J.D. Salinger: we have Raise High the Roofbeam, Carpenters/Seymour and Franny and Zooey here, but not the mainstay Catcher in the Rye (or Nine Stories, for that matter). Fitzgerald died far too young but Salinger emerged not long after and shape-shifted American literature into something more relatable. Kerouac and Vonnegut came along with their own variations and new writers continued to emerge that did their best to speak to the youth of the day to varying levels of success. Still, most acknowledged (even if they do not continue to acknowledge) that they could never touch FSF or BFF Hemingway. 

Everyone knows the story of F. Scott. Born in 1896, achieved literary fame in 1920 with Paradise, married Zelda, had a baby, moved to Paris with the other expatriates, churned out Beautiful and Damned and Gatsby in short order, with the latter failing to make the commercial dent intended--and the years of struggle: publishing short stories to maintain a lavish lifestyle, Zelda losing her mind, both of them sinking deeper into alcoholism, their marriage unraveling, Fitzgerald moving to L.A. and ending his days seen as a hack screenwriter. 

That's my memory off the top of my head, and it's not totally accurate. Fitzgerald lived a whole life before he was 24 and considered himself a failure, and before he met Zelda he had already been rejected by Chicago socialite Ginevra King, his first great love--apparently inspiration for Isabelle in Paradise and Daisy in Gatsby "and others," according to Wikipedia. 

Just scanning the entry on him, nearly every biographical detail seems to have some referent in his work, and while he did not write Tender is the Night while living on the French Riviera, it feels that way and it feels like his most autobiographical work, in a career that appears heavily autobiographical. 

***

The main characters here are Dick and Nicole Diver, a psychiatrist and Chicago socialite, and the setting as referenced above is the French Riviera, though the novel jumps around to Zurich, Paris, New York state, and Rome. Dick and Nicole are ringleaders of sorts of their clique of expatriate acquaintances, and they are on the beach at the beginning of the novel, meeting Rosemary Hoyt for the first time, a 17-year-old American actress in town with her mother, recognized swimming near Sorrento a week earlier by one of the others in the clique. 

"'We thought maybe you were in the plot,' said Mrs. McKisco. She was a shabby-eyed, pretty young woman with a disheartening intensity. 'We don't know who's in the plot and who isn't. One man my husband had been particularly nice to turned out to be a chief character--practically the assistant hero.'
'The plot?' inquired Rosemary, half understanding. 'Is there a plot?' 
'My dear, we don't know,' said Mrs. Abrams, with a convulsive, stout woman's chuckle. 'We're not in it. We're the gallery." (7-8)

It appears rather meta:

"'My husband is finishing his first novel, you see.'
Rosemary said: 'Oh, he is?' She was not thinking anything special, except wondering whether her mother had got to sleep in this heat. 
'It's on the idea of Ulysses,' continued Mrs. McKisco. 'Only instead of taking twenty-four hours my husband takes a hundred years. He takes a decayed old French aristocrat and puts him in contrast with the mechanical age--'
'Oh, for God's sake, Violet, don't go telling everybody the idea,' protested McKisco. 'I don't want it to get all around before the book's published." (10-11)

Like all of Fitzgerald's work, it is replete with period detail that allows the reader to slip into the past while maintaining a humanity that feels eternal and evergreen, still speaking to restless fortysomethings struggling with commitment over 90 years later. I first read Tender is the Night in college, over 20 years ago, and really just skimmed it--I recalled almost nothing on this re-reading. Suffice to say, reading it barely past Rosemary's age and younger than Nicole's at the start, and reading it past Dick's age at the end now, it is clear I could hardly understand it then. Sure, I could understand it from a plot perspective, but could not really feel it until now. It certainly must be Fitzgerald's true masterpiece. As he wrote himself in an inscription, "Gatsby was a tour de force but this is a confession of faith." (xv)

***

The novel begins in medias res and then flashes back for Book II after 112 pages. There are only about 40 pages in Book II that flash back, and then it returns to the "present," and does not look back again. It is a bit confusing because Dick and Nicole do return to Switzerland after the Riviera. In the first stint in Switzerland, Dick is considering the morality of falling in love with his patient; in the second, he is considering the morality of leaving her for Rosemary. By Book III Dick is basically a full-blown alcoholic and it's hard to get into the particulars of each episode without spoiling the entire novel.   

The subject matter is very adult, and it's a rather interesting window into proto-polyamory and possessiveness and jealousy and insecurity. It's easy to say Dick just totally DNGAF after a certain point, and the event in question should be fairly easy for anyone to identify.  

"'You were scared, weren't you?' she accused him. 'You wanted to live!'
She spoke with such force that in his shocked state Dick wondered if he had been frightened for himself--but the strained faces of the children, looking from parent to parent, made him want to grind her grinning mask into jelly." (192)

This is a disturbing novel that clearly clocked the emerging literary trend of moving towards darker and more nihilistic subject matter. Of course, Ulysses is referenced, and all involved questioned the nature of obscenity and how far experimental prose could go before it became "dangerous." Fitzgerald layers this understanding with a portrait of a psychiatrist when the profession was still in its infancy, when Freud was still very much alive, as well as the early days of cinema and the dawn of the sound age, foreshadowing what would become his final subject matter, as if he understood where fate was about to take him. 

Is it dangerous? I don't think so. Divorce was once extremely uncommon, and by the 20s-30s, while this was still the case, the rate nearly doubled between 1900 and 1920. Of course in The Parent Trap in the early 1960s, there is a famous line, "Pretty soon there are going to be more divorces than marriages." The rate only increased slightly between 1920 and 1960, but in the 70s, it shot up dramatically and peaked in the early 80s. It has fallen since, along with a consequent drop in the marriage rate. 

Of course many novels mined these ideas about everlasting love and commitment and faithfulness and the divide between one's inner and outer life for centuries, but FSF was a literary celebrity. Like Goethe 120 years or so before him, he had "juice," and he was "cooking" throughout the 20s. He represented the youth and the vanguard of the future of art. By Tender is the Night he had finally "grown up," and still struggled with the idea of "this being all there is." As such, it appears he strove to inhabit the concept of modernity in his work, while at the same time toeing the line of being anti-commercial. Because while he aspired towards greatness, the realities of life forced him to turn out "slop" (i.e. short stories, and I know it is not fair to call them that, even if he considered them that) to maintain an income stream in between his more ambitious works. He finished his first three novels in about a couple years each, I think.

Maybe the wikipedia notes are worth reading in more detail before I continue, but I find he published Paradise on March 26, 1920 and married Zelda on April 3, 1920, and apparently neither particularly cared for each other all that much, having already broken off one engagement before, with Fitzgerald remarking that he wouldn't mind if she died but couldn't stand to have anyone else marry her. This all sounds pretty insane but I love FSF because I can relate. 

The Beautiful and Damned was published in March 1922 and The Great Gatsby came out in April 1925--so I wasn't far off at all. 9 years later, Tender is the Night joined them in bookstores--or maybe not, as Gatsby was a commercial failure, and this ended up selling even worse. 

Even before Gatsby, however, Fitzgerald had already been through many of the incidents that seem to have been taken directly from his life and transplanted into his work. Now I have long believed that while there is some obviousness to thinly-veiled autobiographical creative writing, it is ultimately the most important sort of literature and the closest most of us will ever come to understanding the truth of the nature of existence. Kerouac took the idea to its logical extreme, but Fitzgerald crawled so he could walk. Hemingway also did this to a degree, but with heavier-veiling. We are all the heroes of our own stories and when we report back on our experiences truthfully and honestly, we become brothers and sisters with readers, sharing wisdom and compassion for one another as we undergo the thousand natural shocks to which we are all constantly subjected. This is why literature is everything to a certain type of person. 

*

A short bullet list of items of life experiences that find their way into this novel, from wikipedia:

• Being a distant cousin of Francis Scott Key. 
• ["One of the girls hoisted her skirt suddenly, pulled and ripped at her pink step-ins and tore them to a sizable flag; then, screaming 'Ben! Ben!' she waved it wildly. As Tommy and Nicole left the room it still fluttered against the blue sky. Oh, say can you see the tender color of remembered flesh?--while at the stern of the battleship arose in rivalry the Star-Spangled Banner." (297)]
• Family moving from St. Paul to Buffalo, NY. 
• ["'I'm a doctor of medicine, he said. 'My father is a clergyman, now retired. We lived in Buffalo and my past is open to investigation. I went to New Haven; afterward I was a Rhodes scholar. My great-grandfather was Governor of North Carolina and I'm a direct descendant of Mad Anthony Wayne.'" (158)]
• Travel from New Jersey to Lake Forest, IL to visit Ginevra King's family estate, with her family belittling him for his lower-class status compared to other suitors. 
• ["'Of course, I've read about women getting lonesome and thinking there's a man under the bed and all that, but why should Nicole get such an idea? She could have all the young men she wanted. We were in Lake Forest--that's a summer place near Chicago where we have a place--and she was out all day playing golf or tennis with the boys. And some of them pretty gone on her in that." (127)]
• Drunken brawl in Rome police station. 
• ["Dick sat in the sunshine that fell profusely through the guard-room window. Collis was with him and two carabinieri, and they were waiting for something to happen. With the narrowed vision of his one eye Dick could see the carabinieri; they were Tuscan peasants with short upper lips and he found it difficult to associate then with the brutality of last night. He sent one of them to fetch him a glass of beer." (232-233)]
• Meeting 17-year-old American actress Lois Moran, who had gained fame for role in Stella Dallas in 1925, who was smitten with him. 
• ["'It might be fun if we knew those people. There were some other people, but they weren't nice. They recognized me--no matter where we go everybody's seen "Daddy's Girl."'" (13)]
• Zelda taking wheel of the car and veering it off road with nine-year-old daughter in backseat
• [Referenced above; "He had turned up a hill that made a short cut to the clinic and now as he stepped on the accelerator for a short straightaway run parallel to the hillside the car swerved violently left, swerved right, tipped on two wheels and, as Dick, with Nicole's voice screaming in his ear, crushed down the mad hand clutching the steering wheel, right itself, swerved once more and shot off the road; it tore through low underbrush, tipped again and settled slowly at an angle of ninety degrees against a tree." (192)]
• Decline into alcoholism and disgrace. 
• ["Dick's bitterness had surprised Rosemary, who had thought of him as all-forgiving, all-comprehending. Suddenly she recalled what is was she had heard about him. In conversation with some State Department people on the boat,--Europeanized Americans who had a reached a position of where they could scarcely have been said to belong to any nation at all, at least not to any great power though perhaps to a Balkan-like state composed of similar citizens--the name of the ubiquitously renowned Baby Warren had occurred and it was remarked that Baby's younger sister had thrown herself away on a dissipated doctor. 'He's not received anywhere any more,' the woman said." (287)]

 That's all we need to say about that. 

*

Perhaps all of this commentary is a superficial reading, and there is more depth to this novel than I can properly appreciate. Hemingway allegedly felt it was not properly appreciated due to Fitzgerald's symbolic status as a jazz age icon. Perhaps appetites changed in the Great Depression. In any case the introduction here does not tell that side of the story: 

"The one that really hurt was that of Hemingway, who charged his fellow writer with self-pity ('Forget your personal tragedy...') and with creating false composite characters in merging Sara and Gerald Murphy with Zelda and Scott, instead of inventing Nicole and Dick Diver from the imagination alone." (xiv)

When we experience a personal tragedy or upheaval or situation that feels too strange, too meaningful, some of us have the urge to share it with others. The absurdity of life is a source of endless intrigue and examination, shifting between generations down through the ages to the present, and we see ourselves as advanced towards a more sophisticated understanding of our personal reality. And yet sometimes we see ourselves in literature written decades--or even centuries--before we were born, and we are reminded that while the outer contours of daily life have changed, what is going on inside of us all has not. Apart from the fads and trends and generational slang and influencing that he made iconic, his personal early-tabloid life a grand performance in itself, Fitzgerald achieved his artistic aims, expressing this shared humanity throughout an oeuvre that should rightly be cherished. Tender is the Night is simply his most precious offering.

2026 Academy Award Nominees for Best Picture

 This year will be quick and dirty without any still from the films themselves because I have a busy day ahead. Again, I was glad I did this exercise as I enjoyed all of the nominees greatly. I don't think F1 is as deserving as Mission Impossible: the Final Reckoning but I still could appreciate things about it. Note that several of these toy with changing ratings by a half-star or so, but I gave most 4.5 stars on Letterboxd, and dates seen in parentheses. Without further ado, in the order they were seen:

Sinners

Probably deserves 4.5 but felt it might be slightly overrating, and feel like I may have missed something. Regardless, it's worth watching. It will probably get nominated for Best Picture. It is no Get Out, but it is the best I've seen from Ryan Coogler thus far (have yet to see the Creed or Creed II so take that as you will). 

Jordan may nab an Oscar nom for it, because his performance is fantastic. Probably the best I have seen him give (note again, have not yet seen Creed or Creed II). The only problem is if you nominate him, you have to nominate Miles Caton, and he seems to have the bigger part. Caton's performance is every bit as good as Jordan's, but Jordan has to play 2 roles, and he does it about well as Nicolas Cage or Rachel Weisz or Jeremy Irons did for that matter. 

There's a social commentary in here somewhere, but not as obvious as in Get Out. It's closer to Us in that category. It's a horror film, but that element is not obvious (apart from the opening scene) until at least halfway through the runtime. Beyond that it's a period piece and arguably more affecting before the supernatural element takes over.

Of course there has to be some connection to our present moment, and if anything it is DEI. While the film is deeply indebted to the blues and black culture, it questions the nature of inclusiveness through a prism that I don't think has been done before. It is more about the concept of "community" than black culture, and there's also a mystical element to it that's rather intriguing and which provides the biggest laugh (at least for me). The epilogue with one of the great living legends of the blues is also fantastic. Think I'm boosting it up to 4.5 stars just because of him. (7/13/25)

One Battle After Another

It's too early to truly assess where One Battle After Another ranks. I didn't like it as much as Magnolia, but that is my favorite movie and PTA has been there, done that. It wasn't up to the level of The Master or Phantom Thread or There Will Be Blood, but those would all get 5 star rankings. It's at least equivalent to Punch Drunk Love, which I vaguely feel like I underrate. It's better than Inherent Vice but that is where I am going to pause.

Maybe it's not better than Inherent Vice. I've only seen that twice. Stylistically, they are the two most similar, which makes sense as they are both adapted (or semi-adapted) from Thomas Pynchon novels. The difference is that one takes place in the 60s or 70s, and this one takes place in present day. IV is about a detective and this is about a freedom fighter, but both Phoenix's and DiCaprio's performances owe a certain debt to Jeff Bridges in The Big Lebowski. Both also demand multiple viewings. All of PTA's films are more rewarding after multiple viewings, but it feels like neither of these can be fully understood after just one. 

It's probably on the level of Boogie Nights, though obviously they are totally different. Boogie Nights has not aged particularly as well as his other films, but there was no mistaking it as a game-changer upon its release. And yes it's better than Hard 8, which most acknowledge as his weakest, but also acknowledge as a very good film on the whole. I would put it above Licorice Pizza as well, another movie that was much better on second viewing. That is a smaller, more personal film. Its follow-up is the "biggest" film PTA has made, though I still think Magnolia is bigger, as a deep meditation on the human condition. 

I'll try not to spoil anything, as it wasn't spoiled for me. The trailers only give a vague idea of the plot of the movie. I'll just say I was surprised because it has a fairly conventional one. I mean, it is not conventional, but the nature of the "chase" certainly feels straight out of the Action genre and that is why it feels bigger budget movie. 

As usual the performances are stellar. DiCaprio and Chase Infiniti should both receive Oscar nominations. Sean Penn and Benicio arguably deserve them as well. PTA obviously deserves nominations for screenplay and directing and I do think this will get a Best Picture nomination. 

It would be weird to say the opening scene at the convent was my favorite in the movie (that would probably be the scene where DiCaprio seems to be channeling the trailer freak-out from Once Upon a Time in Hollywood), but it was the moment that felt like an easter egg, if only because of the actress, so I was very touched by it. 

The opening sequence feels like a trope borrowed from Christopher Nolan, but there is no question that PTA puts a personal stamp on it, and that it works. 

Comments on the politics of the film are inevitable. It is uncompromising. Conservatives will point out that it perfectly captures how the liberal ideology is essentially violent. Then again I would hope that any that are actually sitting through a PTA film will understand that is unfairly reductive. The movie is about standing up for what's right, on topics that are fairly difficult to disagree on, unless one has a regressive and uneducated worldview. I don't think French 75 are exactly the same as Antifa but it feels like many will equivocate the two. So plenty of people will dislike this just because they demonize Antifa and obfuscate what it fights against. Whatever the case, it feels prescient, while still not pandering totally to the moment.

I'll have to see it again. I know it's a masterpiece but it's too hard to fully appreciate on just one viewing, and on the basis of that one viewing, I can only give it 4.5 stars. For now. (10/24/25)

Weapons

It's not February or March, but Thursday night I watched One Battle After Another and Friday night I watched Weapons and I'm pretty sure both are going to be honored by the Academy with Best Picture nominations. I've got to admit that for a decent stretch of this movie, I thought it was on par or possibly even better than OBAA. However by the end, OBAA is the superior film. Additional viewing would probably enhance both, but I think I might just need to see Weapons once or twice more, whereas I think I need to see OBAA at least three or four more times. There's more richness and depth to the latter. 

I don't want to take away anything from Weapons, because it was quite good. My issue with it is what many may also have, which is that it could have stretched to heights that made it a truly astounding film. Instead it semi-crumples under the weight of its concept and turns into a more basic horror movie. I'm not sure what else it could have done, however. The vibe is kind of like Hereditary in this regard. You had Toni Collette in an iconic performance, which ultimately devolved into a pseudo-Rosemary's Baby reboot. Here you have great performances by Julia Garner and Josh Brolin and pretty much everyone else, and a pretty gripping story, and a relatively original narrative structure that feels like it borrows something from Slacker. This is why I think it will get nominated for Best Picture, and it is solid. 

So it's a personal taste thing, this ambivalence about the shift towards horror films in the 2010s. There are a lot more of them than there used to be, and while they aren't all "slasher" movies like in the 80s-00s by and large, the genre is possibly overrated. Of course, Ari Aster and Robert Eggers are making great films also, and it's fair to say Zach Cregger's has joined their ranks with this. Of course, Jordan Peele is great. 

Get Out did not win Best Picture, though I think you would be forgiven for mistaking that. It's probably the more memorable movie than Shape of Water. Most people thought Us was good, but not quite Get Out level, and while I liked Nope, that's probably his 3rd best, too. I would say Weapons isn't quite as good as Get Out, because it lacks the humor. There's a bit of humor in this, but it couldn't be called a Horror Comedy. It's probably on the level of Us, maybe slightly better. 

It's all about the mood it creates that makes it great. Once it starts revealing the truth of the situation, it feels like a bit of a letdown. My friend asked, "Is this a Halloween movie?" and I said I wasn't sure, but I have to concede, yes, it is a Halloween movie, so I highly recommend watching it in the next 5-6 days. There isn't a Halloween theme to the movie though, and it's good because that might have made it even more obvious (Donnie Darko's Halloween theme was effective because it's hard to call that a Horror movie). 

This isn't Cregger's debut film, but I think it's fair to say it's his breakout film. It's a great achievement, I just would have taken it more in the direction that The Leftovers took. That series arguably jumped the shark, but it also dialed up the intrigue and sustained suspense of a kind over many hours. Maybe Lost did that in a different way earlier, as well. 

Finally, Justin Long is great and while his cameo is decent, he is underused. (10/25/25)

Marty Supreme 

Not long after seeing Marty Supreme (about a month earlier from this writing), I saw a tweet/post on X that said something to the effect that "Letterboxd is homework for failed liberal arts grads" with a follow-up scene of a 39 year old living with his parents who has his review of Marty Supreme posted to the refrigerator. Not only having done flyinghouses.blogspot.com/ for the past 18 years, but this for the past couple years, I felt seen. Regardless, though this writing may be a waste of time, though no one is going to see me as an heir-apparent to the great Ebert, it has felt worthwhile to try to articulate a vision of a successful piece of art that stands the test of time. Marty Supreme is one such piece. 

It has its flaws to be sure. For one it has the anachronistic soundtrack problem that an increasing number of movies today indulge. That being said I am not going to complain about Tears for Fears over the closing credits, which felt rather moving. I wouldn't complain about New Order casually being thrown into a montage sequence except that it made the movie feel set in the 1980s rather than the 1950s. 

At first blush it feels worth mentioning both Good Time and Uncut Gems (and not worth mentioning how this is only one of the two Safdie brothers), because it feels pretty similar to those. There is a frantic, paranoid anxiety to these movies which can rub a person the wrong way. In the end though, most can put up with it. Most recognize that Adam Sandler was robbed of a nomination for Gems, which may be his single best performance. And some recognize Good Time as the moment that Robert Pattinson completed his transition from teen heartthrob to quirky leading man character actor. And many will recognize Marty Supreme as the moment that Timothee Chalamet found his r'aison d'etre. 

Now, his performance in A Complete Unknown last year was stellar, and I thought better than Adrien Brody's in the Brutalist, but he did not win. I think he is all but a lock to win this year (even with Michael B. Jordan's dual roles in the record-breaking Sinners and Leo's brilliant burnt-out activist in OBAA). He has a drive to be the greatest (something perhaps inculcated briefly at the Gallatin School of Individualized Study before he abandoned completing his degree) and here he has achieved that, though I thought he had last year in how beautifully he handled the difficult proposition of becoming Bob Dylan. He is playing a real-life figure here again, but a far less famous one. 

Many will say, this is not really a movie about ping-pong and while it's true, there are perhaps 20 or 30 minutes of "sports action" and those parts are also expertly directed. Chalamet noted that he played an insane number of hours playing ping-pong, and he does appear to be very, very good at it and the performance feels credible. I am sure he will have fun for the rest of his life challenging people to a game knowing that he will win. 

The movie is basically about how he doesn't get enough respect and needs to get money to travel to Japan to play in a tournament that Kevin O'Leary was going to finance but then pulled back from. At least I think that was the case. I saw it a while ago. 

It is mostly about the idea of Never Taking No for an Answer. And it is inspiring in this regard. There are random zany caper sequences that feel like outgrowths of Good Time and Uncut Gems but they are positioned to support the narrative in ways that feel more grandiose, in service of greatest aspiration (not just money alone). 

Many will mention O'Leary as the worst part about the movie and it is true the role could have gone to someone that needed the money a little more and that it gives the movie a weird Shark Tank-vibe but it has to be intentional. There is even a part where O'Leary describes himself as a "vampire," which he often did (does?) on that show. He does challenge himself in a way or two and it is amusing to see him "act," but his casting is just as much for atmosphere. 

Gwyneth Paltrow, playing O'Leary's wife, has a bit of a better time with her role, which feels like something of a "comeback." Unfortunately I came into this movie about 15 minutes late and also took a bathroom break right during whatever denouement with Paltrow happens, so I can't speak to it and will need a second viewing. 

And I look forward to that. I haven't seen A Complete Unknown a second time yet. I would, but I would rather watch Marty Supreme a second time. I don't think it will win Best Picture but if Chalamet does not win Best Actor then it will only be because it is Sinners year. (12/27/25)

Frankenstein

I didn't expect it to be *bad*, but it was better than I thought it was going to be. It's been a long time since I read the original novel Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, but that also was better than I thought it would be. 

For those that only know Frankenstein as a Halloween character, as I did, the actual original source material is more of a philosophical treatise wrapped in an early sci-fi novel. The movie grapples with some of the themes of the novel, but on a somewhat less sustained basis. 

Ultimately this is not a scary movie, though the "prelude" will make it seem that way. I certainly did not remember any set piece taking place aboard a Danish ship in the Arctic, but I don't trust my memory from over 20 years ago. Briefly perusing the wikipedia entry, I can see that distrust is valid. 

In short, this was written in 1818, and it, along with Sorrows of Young Werther (which I think was 1774), convinced me that I was able to appreciate literature from over 200 years in the past. The language was always difficult, it seemed, but not with these. They made total sense. One was translated from German and probably more digestible for modern audiences, but one is in English originally and unchanged. Both wrote these novels at very young ages and both betrayed a deep precociousness. 

(I am trying to say that a proper adaptation of Sorrows of Young Werther is something the world needs--or maybe not--though I doubt it would inspire any rash of copycat suicides in the late 2020's; ironically or not, I am unclear if this book also inspired mad scientists to raise the dead, but it seems people have been obsessed with the idea for all eternity, and cryogenics are the apotheosis of that urge; these works strike at the heart of what it means to be human, and show that what goes on inside all of us can be felt across the great expanse of time, and we only know because of the artists who recognized the value of demonstrating that.)

As for the movie itself, Guillermo del Toro is at this point, one of the major international directors of our time that adopted American cinema. I first was familiar with him through Ebert's review of Cronos, which seemed like a fascinating movie, ironically or not, similarly focused on the idea of eternal life. I finally watched Cronos about 5 or 6 years ago and it is definitely not as "easy" as del Toro's later work. I probably need to see it again. In any case, he had a couple other things before Pan's Labyrinth hit and catapulted him into a higher category. He worked on some "blockbuster" fare like Blade II and the Hellboy movies and Pacific Rim (which I never saw--only the first Blade, though I've heard II and III are quite good). And I had never even heard of Crimson Peak. But of course everyone knows The Shape of Water.

Again, his career went into a higher category with that and winning Best Picture and Best Director Oscars, and Nightmare Alley had a lot of heat as his follow-up. It didn't do quite as well, but I enjoyed both. I did not see Pinocchio, but the original animated film was a favorite of mine growing up, and I am a bit afraid of being disappointed, though I have heard it is good. 

I really think Frankenstein is the best movie of his that I have seen. I think it probably deserves to get nominated for Best Picture. Jacob Elordi and Oscar Isaac are both nominated for Golden Globes, and both deserve it. Del Toro should also be nominated for Best Director at the Oscars, though it will be a tall task to win this year in either category (I feel like PTA may have it more in the bag, or someone else, a first-timer). Neither Elordi or Isaac seems likely to win, but the recognition for each is deserved. Everyone knows Isaac is a great actor, but Elordi establishes himself in this in a way Saltburn or Euphoria only hinted at. It's a breakthrough performance for him that shows he has more range than people may have realized. This also feels like a breakthrough for Mia Goth, who has mostly worked in the horror genre and gracefully sidesteps into an adjacent one here. This isn't a horror film but there are elements of it. Sci-fi is fair, as would be drama, and comedy. 

The problem with the movie's success is Poor Things, which was heavily feted recently by the Academy, and goes for a more slapstick version of similar ideas here. It is impossible to pretend that Elordi took nothing from Emma Stone's performance in that. And while Isaac certainly goes unhinged in his performance here, which is occasionally hilarious, it does not reach the degree of Mark Ruffalo's comic insanity. Regardless if pressed, I think I have to say I liked this better than Poor Things. That is more of a straight-up comedy and this is more of a serious drama that has moments of comedy. And while certain parts seem scary, there are also some very sweet moments. Ultimately like most great films, it may lead the way towards greater empathy and understanding for other beings in this world--human or not--and in this it is a success. (1/10/26)

Bugonia 

Lanthimos has been prolific and his collaboration with Emma Stone equally so. Kinds of Kindness did not clean up at the Oscars last year like Poor Things had the year before, and Bugonia lands somewhere between the two. Kind of Kindness is extremely bizarre and plays more like a limited series than a movie. Poor Things seems like Lanthimos's "blockbuster" or "popcorn movie" and while Bugonia's present-day focus feels relevant and credible, it is randomly upsetting. There are still a few very funny moments but it is mostly rather dark and somewhat frustrating. 

The performances are all great. Of course you expect as much from Emma Stone and Plemons (who I usually only like about 50% of the time) but I would highlight Aidan Delbis, the autistic actor who plays Plemons's cousin. He probably deserves an Oscar nomination as much as Stone but he is not given quite as much to do (which the movie requires). 

I didn't even clock that Alicia Silverstone played the mom, and as the movie winds down it becomes rather hard to tell if Plemons is really insane or if he is just constructing an elaborate allegory for what Stone and her company have done to his family and hometown and the world in general. 

There is definitely a message here and it is a great satire of corporate America (Stone's directive that all employees are allowed to leave at 5:30 PM--but that it is not mandatory and they should finish their work and meet their quotas--feels sharp) and yet that element feels half-baked, to a degree. It's hard to write a review of this without spoilers but I'd rather not get into those. I would just say the ending indulges itself in something that a fair number of movies recently have also done--which both deepens it, and cheapens it. I have to think the ending is very divisive. Some people will love it, and some people will hate it. I was mildly amused.

I think Stone probably deserves her nomination here because she does fully commit to the role in a way she always does. I'm not sure this deserves the BP nomination (Pavements was better, but the Academy overlooked it entirely) but I didn't consider it a waste of time. It's a Lanthimos movie so what do you expect. It is not standard fare. It does have moments of greatness that feel sublime at times. It deserves recognition but it definitely will not be for everyone. I believe Lanthimos is going to take a break for a year or something, and I'd expect him to continue to be more ambitious in whatever he does next. (1/24/26)

Train Dreams 

I'll have to watch Train Dreams again--at least, the first 15 minutes. I watched with a friend who distracted me with questions, as if I knew what the movie would be about. Like most movies, it's good to go into it knowing as little as possible. 

This is a beautiful movie and it probably deserves more than 4 stars, but I can't say I liked it better than Marty Supreme or One Battle After Another or Sinners. Why not? Well it's a different sort of movie. It's an art movie. The viewer should soak it in. My viewing companion did doze off through the middle portion of it, and I am sure it was very pleasant. 

The cinematography is beautiful. Joel Edgerton gives a great performance. It's very touching and heartwarming and also incredibly sad. It's entertaining, yes, but there is a bigger statement behind that probably will be clearer on a second viewing. It's about the sweep of American history, and I won't say what years it covers, because that's also vaguely portrayed. Finally it ends with a beautiful Nick Cave song over the credits. That song won't win over the K-Pop Demon Hunters song, and such is the tragedy of our times (if one knows of Cave's work over the past decade or so, his voice at the end is especially moving). I'll probably watch K-Pop Demon Hunters anyways just to see what the fuss is about. But I'll also watch this again. It's slow, meditative, and a bit funny at times (a sequence giving a snippet story about a group of incidental co-workers comes to find, as well as William H. Macy's presence, which stops just short of being an Oscar snub). It's vaguely a "Western" movie, and many may skip because of thinking it might be boring, but those that appreciate the genre will likely find much to love in it.

F1

This is the 4th year that I am trying to see all of the Best Picture nominations and F1 is probably the weakest of all I have seen (even if I may have given Emilia Perez a slightly lower rating, Zoe Saldana and Selena Gomez redeemed it slightly). I listened to the Rewatchables podcast episode on it as a way to convince myself that it was better than I thought, and it did that slightly. I admit that technically, it is an achievement.

But let's get the elephant out of the room: I am not a racing fan. I like cars, but I do not find the idea of attending an F1 event or a NASCAR race exciting. I do not watch them on TV. 

But even I have noticed that F1 has become a cultural phenomenon in recent years, probably because of whatever association is responsible for organizing the venture. They shut down the Loop in Chicago for a year or two so they could have a race, and sure the idea of doing a race through a downtown area of a city is amusing, but it's also a money grab and a gimmick to bring in new fans. 

Is there anything wrong with that? No. This is part of what makes capitalism "great." Is this a commercial for F1? Yes. Indisputably. 

I might have even liked Babylon better, though this was more aesthetically pleasing. There are definitely elements to it that I enjoyed, but it is repetitive, and too long. You know that Pitt is going to deploy some kind of trick "accident" that will bring out a safety car. I know nothing of the rules of F1 but the movie will teach you some vague idea of how individual racing times are measured. And I'll admit it is a little bit exciting to think that these races with so many variables often come down to tenths of seconds. 

On a technical level, the movie is stellar. But by the last 30 minutes, I was ready for it to be over. Pitt's scene in Babylon where he understands he is being brought in as a "ringer," echoed there, and echoes here, as he was paid $30MM for this, I believe. He earns it, certainly. The movie was successful, and somehow, like Top Gun: Maverick, got nominated for Best Picture.

All I'm going to say is that the last Mission Impossible movie (if it is the last one) got robbed. I liked Top Gun: Maverick slightly more than this because there was more of a story about the characters, and less about fighter pilot maneuvering. But Mission Impossible: the Final Reckoning was better than that, and better than this. Cruise deserves recognition for shepherding that franchise for 30 years and pulling off incredible personal feats, as a borderline American version of Jackie Chan (though I am sure Chan's stunts were more outrageous and daring).

I was hoping that, like Marty Supreme, the movie would not be as much about the sport. That is not the case. This is a movie about racing. And it may be one of the greatest car racing movies in cinematic history. The Fast and the Furious franchise showed how successful that could be, and this takes it to Oscar-level. It's nice to recognize it, because some of the camerawork is rather ingenious, and the performances are all solid. But Joshua's love interest was apparently completely cut out of the movie, which feels sort of insane given its 2.75 hour runtime. 

The movie goes around the world, which should be exciting, but the international footage is mostly limited to racetracks. A huge percentage of this movie takes place in such arenas.

It is unbelievably cliched. The Rewatchables was more charitable and referred to them as sports movie "tropes," and sure, they are, but they are also totally predictable. Even Pitt's monologue, about everything going quiet and feeling like flying, predictably is depicted near the end, as I knew it would be. There could have been a couple curveballs thrown into it, but it mostly plays it safe. 

As it must, as this is a commercial for F1, and Apple TV+ even has another documentary about F1 racing, showing that the industry has a vested interest in bringing in a broader demographic (as Joshua references briefly in one scene). So maybe I'm a little cynical. I like sports movies just fine. I'm sure any racing fan will want to see this, even as the Rewatchables noted that true F1 fans, predictably, call out the movie as being unrealistic. Even I could tell that something seemed off about it, with these "workarounds" that let the Apex team perform better than they would otherwise due to Pitt's chicanery. 

I would have given it 2.5 stars but I boosted it to 3 because it is an unqualified success on a technical level. Javier Bardem also redeems it to a degree, to say nothing of Pitt's own charisma. Any filmmaker that wants to capture high-intensity action should find much to learn and love in it. For viewers that couldn't care less about racing, it will not make them care--but I am sure younger and less cynical viewers than myself may be just intrigued enough to delve deeper into the mythology and become a fan of the sport. I will be shocked beyond belief if it wins Best Picture, and should that happen, will attribute it to a lobbying effort by the industry. (3/6/26)

Sentimental Value

Ah, the token foreign language film nominated for Best Picture. It has been a standard for nearly 10 years (excepting 2021). Such films were confined to the Best Foreign Language Film until the name of the category changed to Best International Feature in 2019, usually at least one of these films will get nominated for Best Picture as well now. This normally handicaps it in the Best Picture category, and makes it an odds-on favorite in the foreign category. 

This year, it's hard for me to say because I haven't seen The Secret Agent yet and these two films are represented in both categories. For some reason I vaguely feel that Secret Agent has more heat, and that Skarsgard has better odds at winning Best Supporting Actor. 

In any case, Sentimental Value is a fine film with several powerful moments. It ultimately began to drag for me, but also created a meditative atmosphere of calm and contemplation. The plot is very basic. 

When the film opens, we hear Nora's poem (or monologue) written as a child for an assignment on what object they would like to be. She chose her house and the house is the centerpiece of the film, and it's quite beautiful. She writes about how her parents' arguments were remembered as just being "noise" and how the house preferred noise to silence, after her father (Skargard) left. 

The family dynamics are a bit sketchy in this, and I needed to check wikipedia to be sure of what was happening. But their mother has passed away and Skarsgard returns for the home, and to make what may be his final film, centered around it. 

We then see Nora in the throes of stage fright on opening night of a new play. The start needs to be delayed five minutes as she requests a costume alteration and then rushes off at a moment for a quickie tryst with a supporting player. She is finally able to appear and seemingly pulls off a terrific performance. 

We then see her with a child that almost seems like her own but is then revealed to be her nephew--at least it came off that way to me. She leaves her sister's house in frustration, though I thought her brother-in-law was her ex-husband and that she was dropping him off, or something. 

I think the movie is meant to throw you in the middle without much exposition to gradually reveal itself, as it does through Skarsgard's films, and what he wants this next one to be. He meets Nora in a cafe and explains that he wants her to play the lead role--that he wrote it for her. She is touched, but she declines, due in part to her long simmering resentment towards him. Basically she and her sister feel that he abandoned the family (though her sister has edged closer to forgiveness), and when he spouts off about how much they mean to him, they think he is full of BS. Ultimately, he casts Elle Fanning in the role intended for Nora, and she eventually "becomes" her in somewhat disturbing ways. 

It's worth noting that both sisters (Nora played by Renate Reinsve, and Agnes played by Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas) and Fanning are all nominated for acting awards as well. This makes the movie sound like a masterclass in acting, and I suppose it is, as well as being extremely meta. 

Clearly, there are a lot of great things about this film, so why did it feel like it dragged for me? I suppose because the plot was basic as it is, and the main "development" is an unveiling of family history and drama behind production of the film, which is acquired by Netflix, who may be inflicting their vision on Skarsgard. I thought, well, it was stupid of me to pay $6 to rent this on Amazon if it's using Netflix so prominently, because they must own it, but I suppose not. Credit where its due to question the whole notion of Netflix's entre into art films and its algorithmic taste-making business model. 

It has a happy ending is all I will say, even though the film-within-the-film does not. The audience, I think, will be happy for the characters, but at least in my case, may feel like basically very little happened except re-establishing a certain bond with their father. I enjoyed this film but feel the ending leaves out a crucial piece and it's a decision that works fine. 

I haven't seen the director's previous effort, The Worst Person in the World, but I recall hearing a bit about it at the time, and think a few people may consider it superior to this. Reinsve also plays the lead role in that, and I will need to see it soon. (3/11/26)

Hamnet 

The only reason I'm not giving this 4.5 stars is the same reason people were upset that A Beautiful Mind won Best Picture some 24 years ago (though I stood in the minority as saying its win was justified over Moulin Rouge, Lord of the Rings Pt. 1, Gosford Park and In the Bedroom): it's awards bait. Some 28 years ago we had Shakespeare in Love and now we have Hamnet.

Full disclosure: I still haven't seen Shakespeare in Love, and even though I have read a few plays and sonnets, I've still never experienced King Lear, Othello, The Merchant of Venice and a few others. Hamlet, I know, but it's been so long that snippets of it only bring a vague recollection. 

I will try to remain wary of spoilers, but it is probably stupid to pretend people do not know the tragic plot development that drives the narrative. In any case, we can pretend, and the way the reality is teased out is borderline masterful. To be clear, this is an excellent film and again, only dinging it because it was developed with the idea of being an awards contender. It had to be. 

Am I upset that Chloe Zhao is barely a year older than me, and this is her 5th film, and 2nd time nominated as Best Director? Maybe, only because it reminds me once again of the abject failure of my life to make something great, when she has already done it twice (and I haven't seen the first two films, which I think I should, but not in a rush to see The Eternals). Am I upset that she may have been better poised for success? No, this is the way of the world. After all I just boosted Anemone. 

Putting my disappointment in my self to the side, the film itself has a strong Train Dreams-vibe due to its setting. Jessie Buckley, who I will probably pick to win Best Actress along with everyone else, is reputed to be the "daughter of a forest witch," and seems like a proto-hippie. She has a 'meet-cute' with her counterpart, who just oozes with masculine charisma and seduces her effortlessly. Certainly, the movie makes this most famous writer of all time into more of an alpha than I thought he was. But then again I know nothing of his personal life. 

Emily Watson plays his mother, and his father is actually the one to calm her down once he reveals that he will be having a child with Agnes (Buckley). His father is terrible through most of this movie, but in that moment understands he needs to love his son. And then his mother softens, and she takes in Agnes as her own, and their relationship ends up being rather touching. 

There are three childbirth scenes in this (one with an auto-delivery), and there are several moments that are about as gut-wrenching as a PG-13 movie is allowed to get. It is not an easy watch. Both Buckley and Mescal are fantastic. Mescal was snubbed of an Oscar nomination but it is certainly an honorable mention. His work at the end of the film is remarkable. 

Tears did not well up as often for this as they did for Elio, for me, but the tragic ending is both incredibly sad and incredibly beautiful. Like Sentimental Value, the art created by the character becomes very meta, and the film becomes something of an essay on the power of it. Art can be a way of coping with grief or disappointment, and at its best can transcend death. (There is a new Casting category this year, and while OBAA or Sinners may potentially clean up, the casting choices for Hamnet and the actor playing Hamlet are about as inspired as possible, and lend special power to the climax.)

Credit where it is due for this. It's awards bait, but it tackles extremely heavy themes and extremely heavy personalities and comes together as a fully-realized vision. I suppose when we set out to make great art, we imagine it may be recognized one day, and ambition should not count against value. Perhaps I'll read a biography of Shakespeare one day and decide that Hamnet is 75% fantasy but for the time being I am going to take this at its word and believe it gets most things right. Let the half-star ding be a drop down from 5. (3/13/26)

The Secret Agent 

I'm a bit burnt out as it is the day of the Oscars and I'm not really sure what to say about this except that it's great. I picked Sentimental Value to win Best International Feature, but I think this deserves it. I'm trying to win, but if I lose because of this category, I won't mind. This is deserving. 

It has a lot in common with I'm Still Here, the Brazilian film nominated in both categories last year. It's about the same period, roughly, only outlines the political situation along vague lines, and it has a present-day element that also involves finding lost family members (with a variation). 

It is however more thrilling than I'm Still Here. And while lead performances are fantastic in both, Wagner Moura slightly edges out Fernanda Torres. It is a scary movie but also fun at times. It's an ode to the idea of the cinema also, with the role Jaws plays in it. Perhaps the scene that best encapsulates it is when the group of "refugees" are having a dinner gathering and talking about their plans for escape and how they are under "death threats" and someone says, let's not bring the energy down, put the music back on. 

It's emotionally devastating in its own quieter way, with the tension teased out masterfully. I'm wary of revealing anything about the plot and probably only people that are very familiar with Brazilian history will understand it on a deeper level, as with I'm Still Here. But if you put all of that to the side and just look at it as an action/thriller/comedy/drama, it defies genres and should be recognized as a landmark achievement. Make no mistake that I really enjoyed Sentimental Value, but I do consider this the superior effort. (3/14/26)

The Harder I Fight, the More I Love You - Neko Case (2025)

I only saw Neko Case once. Maybe I saw her again a second time, but my memory of the first time was sharper. That was in 2004 at the Bowery Ballroom. 

It's important to note what happened for me in college and what I hope happens to most people, which is that you meet many people and a good number of them turn you onto new music. I think my first exposure to the New Pornographers came in the Fall of 2003, in Paris, a friend in the study abroad program making me a mix that had "The Slow Descent into Alcoholism" on it. At the time, there really wasn't anything that sounded like them. They were a supergroup. (I say "were" because, while they're still good, I think most agree their first 3 albums represent their glory years.) At least to all of us, Neko Case was the star of the group (later we might concede Dan Bejar as attaining MVP-status). Upon returning to New York in 2004, I found they had blown up to a certain degree, and Broken Social Scene had emerged, as a sort of copycat supergroup except from Toronto instead of Vancouver. The Unicorns were also making a name for themselves, and the Arcade Fire debut was not far off in the distance. I wanted to be Canadian and every Canadian I met was super cool. It was probably a good time for that country. Suffice to say, Mass Romantic, Electric Version, and Twin Cinema all stand alongside one another, but Neko's singular highlight probably remains "Letter From an Occupant," off the first album. 

Later I became aware of her solo work. I wasn't aware until now that she had two solo albums prior to her work with NP. Regardless, of course I wanted to see NP live, but they were not on tour, and in any case I don't think Neko toured with them. Apparently she did in 2017, and I'm terribly sad to have missed that. But by that point I had seen them at least a couple times and they were not as powerful a live force as Broken Social Scene (they had played a $5 NYU show while touring You Forgot it in People and I remember that being one of the best of many great $5 shows). 

In 2004, she was in between Blacklisted and Fox Confessor Brings the Flood, about to put out the live album The Tigers Have Spoken. Maybe she was testing out new material in this tour. In any case, her solo work is very different from NP. NP is power pop dialed up to 10 (or at least was back in those days). NC solo is "alt-country" or "folk." I got tickets for a friend and myself just because I wanted to see her, 50% for the music and 50% because I had a crush on her. I wasn't familiar with her solo work, and it was not as easy to listen to it on a whim as these days. I see now she had been voted the "Sexiest Babe in Indie Rock" by Playboy Magazine about a year earlier. She does not write about this in the book but I have to think she did not take it as a very exciting compliment. Regardless I was not exactly the most mature person in the world and fantasized that we might meet and she might see something in me. 

The show was good, and after she said she would be at the merch table. A line quickly formed. I should have waited, and gotten one of her CDs and asked for an autograph, but we were poor college students and most of us got music through sharing burnt CD-Rs. I kept a journal where I would get autographs of famous people when I could and I should have just asked for one there. But instead for some reason, I disregarded the line, and no one seemed to say anything, including her, but before I could say anything I was pulled away by security. She seemed to say no, don't do that, and they probably should have just told me, you know there's a line, you have to wait, but I was unceremoniously removed from the venue, and as I was pulled away I shouted, "I love you!" 

This anecdote does not make her memoir, and it would not make my memoir, either, but it feels appropriate to note for this post; perhaps one day she'll read it, and peruse some other materials on this blog and see something in me, but I digress. 

***

Of course then, I loved this book, and it will go on the Best Books list whenever I get around to updating that post. It's nearly perfect. The only thing I would have liked to see was more material on NP, and what her work in that band means to her. It's not my place to assume, but from the spare references included here, while she does get songwriting credit on her songs, it feels like Carl Newman's band--that's his world, and she's just living in it, randomly every few years. 

I did get Fox Confessor Brings the Flood when it came out in 2006, and it is justly considered her masterpiece--but that also seems to ignore the strength of the 4 albums after, which are remarkably consistent, and arguably even better. This year she put out Neon Grey Midnight Green, about 9 months after this memoir, and so we might say in 2025, Neko Case has reached peak acclaim. The album is just as excellent as all that came before, and the memoir cuts deeper than anything she's done to this point. She's just a beautiful person, through and through, and should be considered a national treasure. 

*** 

For personal reasons, the chapters documenting her time living in Chicago were most interesting to me, and I was curious to find out if it was anywhere near where I am now. It was not far off:

"My dear friend Judge had found a great apartment on Maplewood Avenue in Humboldt Park for us. It was spacious, with high ceilings, old wood floors, and bizarre pink plastic tiles in the bathroom, of which only a couple had cigarette burns. The two of us set to homemaking with a passion. We painted the living room 'Shakespeare Green' and the entry room 'Klondike Blue,' and then kept on trying other colors until we eventually became the reason that Home Depot no longer lets you return paint. There was a back porch, which was lovely to sit on, and Judge arranged tin cans upside down on sticks in the planters so she could record the beautiful, calming percussion sounds of the summer storm rain falling on them." (198-199)

There's not that much material about it, and Case has moved around a lot. If there's a spiritual center of the book it's probably Tacoma, WA, followed by Vancouver. She lived in several isolated locations in remote parts of Washington with her parents. She loses her mother at a very young age. It's devastating but I won't say anything beyond that. 

Her father is not much more helpful, despite being fiercely protective. Case becomes something of a "latch-key kid," which many of her generation often bemoan and also take as a point of pride. It's in this setting that she becomes a dreamer, and starts to recognize that the world outside her family might provide greater love and validation. She falls in love with horses from a young age, at one point "manifesting" two of them, out of nowhere in a random spot in her town where they wouldn't normally be seen. Later she goes to a state fair with a friend and they enter a competition, and again I won't say more but Case does still consider it one of the best days of her life. 

She has a traumatic experience as a teen, and there is a deeper sadness to the troubles she had to endure in her early life. She does know, however, what her purpose should be, and she persisted and grew as an artist and musician, to the point that she has only kept getting better, some 30 years after she started. Many bands flame out and their earliest work remains their strongest but Case has never rested on her laurels, so to speak. After this memoir, I will not be surprised if she has yet another renaissance of sorts, stretching towards greater heights yet. 

***

There's not much else I can say about this except to highlight a couple of other passages, and acknowledge that Case's literary talents arguably eclipse her musical ones--I think she comes about as close to reaching the Patti Smith-level as a musician can. Even though Michelle Zauner may occupy a similar space, I did not know what "psychopomp" meant until reading this, despite it serving as a Japanese Breakfast album title:

"A large swath of Slavic tales feature what's called a psychopomp, an animal or a trickster god who acts as a guide to the protagonist in the story. A sort of left-field Greek chorus. As a teen, I had only the thinnest understanding of what 'psychopomp' meant when I first heard the word, but I knew immediately that I wanted to be one. In the old tales, the psychopomp doles out the clues--cryptic but always correct--that allow the protagonist to solve an important riddle or find the path out of the forest themselves. Like a psychopomp, I wanted to inhabit a den in the forest and possess the answers to transformation and growth that I'd croak out now and then to visitors. That sounded like a dream come true. I still remember the day someone I trusted told me that humans can't be psychopomps. I was crushed. I didn't have a library or internet at the ready, so I just sat in that sad little diaper of truth longer than I should have...thirty-some years? When I finally looked it up, it turned out the working description of 'psychopomp' I'd had was less incorrect than 'incomplete.' If I had understood psychopomps to be animals that help you solve a problem or find a  path, other sources describe them as 'conductors of souls' to the afterlife. Among many other ways of being, as it turns out, psychopomps can perform all sorts of other tasks and roles too, including being singers." (241)

Now having understood that, Psychopomp is sort of a perfect title for that Japanese Breakfast album. 

So too Case deserves to be a New York Times bestseller, but it does not have the same "hook" as Crying in H Mart. This has a lot of similarities to that book, but they have different sub-topics (family recipes; horses as divinities). And while Zauner comes to grips with the love that her mother gave her, and recognizes it as a beautiful thing, Case is not nearly as lucky. Her relationship with her mother is exceedingly strange, certainly about as unusual and confounding as anything I've read before. She still finds a way to make peace with her upbringing--or if not peace, at least acceptance and understanding. Both of her parents have their own personal tragedies that she comes to discover and leave her with a deeper appreciation for their perceived failings. And as with personal trauma, shedding the long-term pain and discomfort associated with horrible memories is often an iterative process:

"There are so many dumb cliches out there about rape. A few seem like they might be meant to help you process it but are actually ways to gloss over the messiness of what happened. They use words like 'resilience' and 'character.' One of the bad ideas is that forgiveness is the ultimate act of courage. It's not. I don't believe forgiveness is something you can actively do with any realness or sincerity. It's not a tangible 'act,' in the same way that justice is not an act. Maybe forgiveness and justice are somehow the same state of being. 

Maybe forgiveness comes later, and maybe it never does. Maybe you are so evolved you can feel it right in the moment of betrayal. I have forgiven people and events before, and it's usually after a long time and self-searching about something completely different. Forgiveness seems to be a sweet, brief rest at the crossroads of other things. It's almost a divine by-product. It's not a tiny golden diploma you bestow upon someone. Forgiveness takes many forms and may be as simple as the moment something no longer has power over you. 

That doesn't mean there aren't good ideas about forgiveness and its beauty, but if something doesn't stir anything but contempt in you, there's a reason. Trust your contempt. Dissect if you can. The reason your contempt is tapping you on the shoulder may be in there, and be valid, or it may not. If you can't find it, it's OK. That doesn't mean you should canonize your rage, either, just make sure you take it seriously. If you learn nothing from something horrible, you are human, and that doesn't make you soulless or cruel. Sometimes bad things are just senseless brutality that finds you. You do not deserve or ask for these things. They are not always teaching you a lesson." (132-133)

Like Rebel Girl, I think this book has the capacity to change lives and make readers into better people and offer a gentle guiding hand through the darkest patches of existence. Like many books in this category, it underscores the importance of following one's dreams. None of these books would exist if the women writing them had given up on that. They might have moved on to live fulfilling and rewarding lives in other arenas, but we would not have the gifts that they bestowed upon the world. Of course, they've all found their ways towards some version of success, and even if we struggle to find our own, the compassion inherent in their work is a reminder that often, all is not as hopeless as it seems.