Three Things We’re Diggin’
Ashleigh - The Secret History
I’ve had “The Secret History” by Donna Tartt on my bookshelf for a few years, but every time I’ve started it, it felt like I should wait until fall. However, this week has been rainy and cold, which are the ideal conditions to read this book. Disclaimer: I have not finished, but I am thoroughly enthralled and find myself anxious to read more and learn what happens. Here’s the description: Under the influence of a charismatic classics professor, a group of clever, eccentric misfits at a New England college* discover a way of thought and life a world away from their banal contemporaries. But their search for the transcendent leads them down a dangerous path, beyond human constructs of morality. (*Ashlegh’s note: Why is it always a New England college?)
So far this book has dealt with topics such as modern vs classic, losing control, wealth, and obsession (actually, this is all surmised from being 100 pages in). Although this book was written in 1992, it still feels very relevant to today. I recommend it, but again, if it’s sunny where you are, you may want to wait for the dreary weather. Since it takes place on a college campus, it just screams to be read in the fall! OK, back to reading.
A.J. - This scene in T2 Trainspotting
You'd be forgiven if you didn't know that there was a sequel to Trainspotting. It came out in 2017, over 20 years after the original film. It barely made any money at the U.S. box office. And it pales in comparison to the first film. But it does contain one scene that I keep thinking about, and sometimes that's all a movie needs to work for me. The scene centers around memory. Spud, played by Ewan Bremner, now a middle-aged heroin addict trying to get clean, finds himself on the same street in Edinburgh where they filmed the opening chase scene from the first film. We see footage of a twenty-something Ewan McGregor running from the cops intercut with shots of middle-aged Spud lost in his memories as the chords of the 90s club song Born Slippy, an explosive anthem from the first film, play out in slow, haunting synths. This scene was a gut punch for me. I've lived in NYC for a decade, a time that has stretched from my early 20s into my 30s. Sometimes when I walk by a bar or a restaurant or a park bench I can almost see a ghost of a younger version of me still lingering in those places. See what I'm saying? Just one powerful scene in a movie can get me all emotional and in my thoughts.
Bubba - Survivor (Season 44)
A few weeks ago, I started watching Survivor by accident. The premiere of Season 44 just so happened to air while I was farting around on my couch, idly watching local news for the latest forecast (shout out Chief Meteorologist Dorrell Wenniger on Central Oregon Daily). When Survivor came on, I had an immediate instinct to switch over to Netflix, HBO Max, Amazon Prime, Disney+, Hulu – any of the bonkers-amount of streaming services we essentially shovel cash into each month – but, for whatever reason (the remote was most likely out of reach), I watched on as executive producer/host extraordinaire, Jeff Probst, welcomed 18 contestants to the Fijian islands, where they would compete, starve, ally, and betray their way toward a $1 million prize. Yada yada yada, now I’m hooked. Which is crazy, because I do not like network television, especially if it’s primetime network television, let alone reality primetime network television. Yet, I’m hooked. Hardcore.
Why? I’m still trying to figure it out, but here’s what I’ve come up with so far: First off, Survivor has been going for 44 seasons now (outwit, outplay, outlast, amirite?), so that tells me two things: A) It’s probably considered a good show because B) my boy Jeff and his team have had plenty of time to pinpoint what exactly makes its so good and endlessly iterate and improve. Meaning: As a viewer, you’re in good hands. Secondly, I love thinking about this show from a filmmaking perspective, imagining what the production looks like behind the scenes, from concept to capture to edit. I find myself genuinely wondering whether it’d be more difficult being a contestant or a camera operator on Survivor? Lastly, Survivor offers a version of reality TV that actually feels real. As one contributor for The Atlantic puts it, “I was struck not by the show’s deception but by its honesty: Survivor reflects our world. Its contestants are compelling even when they’re unbearable. Their motivations—what compels and attracts them—are deeply human. I’ve come to see the show as a fun-house mirror, a near-perfect fantasy made from our preoccupation with one another’s lives.” Consider me preoccupied.
