Now, I sure like Vanity Fair, and I don't mean the big boring book. I always used to buy it at the airport before a long flight, and this year my parents got me a subscription for Christmas. Jolly good.
One thing I like is the articles, and one article I recently liked was James Wolcott's "Little Big Screen" article on TV Programs. I liked lots about it, but mostly I liked how many nice things he had to say about Bones.
Series such as ... Bones ... lay down an acoustic strip under the alphabet-soup techno-jargon that correlates to a mental hum, as if the shows were thinking along with us (whereas so many movies are thinking for us, bringing the word down from on high).
How great is that? Laying down an acoustic strip under the alphabet-soup techno-jargon. I think I almost understand what he's saying. I think it means that even though they talk about bones and other boring things, it's fun to watch them chat.
Later he said:
The intimacy of television offers an ideal frame for the sort of teamwork at which Hollywood once excelled, from Nick and Nora in the Thin Man series to Rock and Doris to Paul Newman and Robert Redford. Them days are gone. The rapport and banter have migrated to television, whose matched sets include ... David Boreanaz and Emily Deschanel on Bones (the dynamic between Boreanaz’s James Garner aplomb and exasperation and Deschanel’s Gene Tierney–ish fine-etched beauty makes for the most interesting evolving relationship on TV)...
Now, that's a lot of text, but I sure do agree. In fact, except for Asta, they're really all one and the same.
God Bless, Bones. And Asta.
3 comments:
Did I ever tell you that sad, sad story about Gene Tierney?
One of the many horrible things about that story is that I always forget it and make you tell it to me again and then get sad all over for poor, poor Gene Tierney.
I dont know that story.
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