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How could Martin Scorsese go so wrong with this premise in Shutter Island while Roman Polanski goes so right with it in The Ghost Writer?
The Ghost Writer is one of the most disciplined and aesthetically exacting movies that I've seen. Polanski had a vision for it, knew exactly what he wanted, and followed through to the letter. The interiors are incredibly striking, all hard angles and grays, silvers, and faded colors that give a steely precision to every scene. The screenplay is literate and witty, filled with quips. ("I've never understood the purpose of white wine.") The pacing and rhythm are so precise that not only does each scene have a purpose, the length of each scene is exactly right in terms of its role in propelling the narrative. Abstract art lends unsettling undercurrent of looming violence as the ghost writer draws close to the mystery at the heart of the story.
The story is simple enough. After the suicide of the ghost writer of the memoir of former British Prime Minister Andrew Lang (Brosnan), The Ghost (MacGregor) accepts a one-month contract to finish the job. When he arrives at the Lang home on Martha's Vineyard, he's greeted by Lang's assistant, the prim, repressed, and archly named Amelia Bly (Cattrall, cast against type) who displays reluctance for The Ghost to even look at the draft of the memoir. When Lang's unblinking, cold-blooded wife Ruth (Williams, who is outstanding) enters, the tension between her and Amelia is palpable. Once Lang arrives, writer and politician commence work immediately.
But nothing goes smoothly. Lang interrupts work to take a phone call that dissolves into a furious argument (unheard by us, since we witness it from The Ghost's perspective through a picture window). The Ghost finds materials hidden by his predecessor, but they seem innocuous. Even the lie they expose appears unimportant. An acerbic local (the 94-year old Wallach, as vital as ever) assures The Ghost that the suicide had unexplained and covered up circumstances. Ruth wife befriends The Ghost for reasons he can't determine, seeking emotional shelter from him when her husband is accused of war crimes. A sinister Wilkinson shrugs his shoulders at any connection between him and Lang, a connection that seems apparent until Lang convincingly denies it. Throughout, details and suspense accumulate imperceptibly until they burst forth in a flood the carries Lang and The Ghost along with it, leading to a convincing twist that only a writer could (literally) decipher.
You don't see movies like this any more. These days, it takes a certain courage and confidence to make a suspense movie without thrill rides and explosions, that's instead driven instead by plot, character, screenplay, and artistic vision. Hitchcock did it all the time, of course, and The Ghost Writer stands with the master's best work. It's that good...
Prior to the film, we saw a trailer for Michael Douglas' new movie, which is a sequel to Wall Street. I couldn't help but think of his father Kirk and that actor's unique presence. Has there ever been an actor as at ease in front of a camera as Kirk Douglas? He was subtle and convincing, and one could never see him act. With an indescribable intelligence and character that belied the matinee-idol looks, Kirk Douglas was a one-of-kind actor who could be inspiring, agonized, troubled, doubtful, and even cynical. He performed with grace and integrity and invariably essayed performances that any aspiring actor could learn from...

Regular readers of Citizen K. know that I've often referenced the magazine Offbeat as one of my primary guides to New Orleans music. Like many Offbeat fans, I was dismayed to see the above cover on its March issue. Young people may not know that "Strange Fruit" is a Billie Holiday classic about lynching, sung in an especially mournful and despairing tone even for her. The magazine cover is at best insensitive and is arguably a racist act. Readers responded predictably, and the magazine answered with one of those patronizing non-apologetic apologies that only fan the flames:
We didn't realize the phrase "strange fruit" has the same power in 2010 that it did when lynching was a more contemporary threat...We believed that in 2010, the phrase "strange fruit" could be used without automatically evoking the Billie Holiday song and its subject matter.The problem here is that they are simply not being credible. It's virtually impossible for a southern music magazine to not know that the phrase "strange fruit" evokes the Holiday song. Readers responded with predictable renewed fury; the editors became defensive, calling its detractors racist and -- yes -- blaming the media (another magazine wrote about the cover). The continued publication of Offbeat is very likely in question.
As near as I can tell in the two years that I've been reading it, Offbeat does not show any bias against black musicians. They've turned me on to artists as disparate as Glen David Andrews, Big Sam, John Boutte, and Cedric Watson. But sometimes you've just got be standup, admit that you did something that is part of the problem, ask for forgiveness, promise not to do it again, and hope to move on. And if you have to absorb a few licks in the process, well, you created the problem in the first place.
I would really miss Offbeat if this controversy does it in. The publication is an unflagging yet honestly critical champion of NOLA music. It's demise would leave a gap. But the way they are handling this is likely driving away readers in droves. They've got to quit being defensive and listen to what people are saying or pay the price...