Three recs, last times edition
A (funny) not-quite-end-times novel, a nostalgic coming-of-age movie, a gorgeously heartbreaking film adaptation
Did you miss me? I actually wrote this issue nearly a month ago, but have been traveling that entire time, and, well, some things had to give. Unfortunately for you, this was one of them. But now we’re back! Hope you enjoy the recs.
Last weekend was the last time my three best friends and I will be together without kids.
Okay, maybe I exaggerate. Parents can and do have lives apart from their kids. But we’ve been friends for nearly 23 years – we met when we were kids ourselves, went through the worst growing pains together, and became whatever it is that we are now alongside each other – and it was always the four of us. We’ve acquired partners along the way, but we’ve always been able to ditch them for each other without question. In two months, when one of them has a baby, that will no longer be the case. There will be no going back.
I don’t remember the final time I played with my American Girl dolls. I didn’t take any special note of my last Oakland A’s game. I have no idea when I stopped using my once-beloved digital camera or stopped wearing the three necklaces I barely took off throughout college.
As I notice myself getting older, I am trying to stop and mark the last times. To feel the passage of time and not simply let it happen. Since, sometimes, we don’t have that luxury.
As I sat it the airport in St. Louis after the wedding – the (presumably) final wedding for the four of us, and thus the last excuse to force everyone to move mountains to be in the same place – I cried. Of course I did, have you met me? (If you haven’t, well, I wear my heart on my sleeve.) I am grateful to the bride for giving us a day together before our lives change. Without this, I would simply have realized after our nephew’s arrival that the last time we were all together had already happened. That there was no going back to regain that time. That an era had ended without me realizing.
She gave us – or, at least, me – the luxury of grieving. A moment to mourn the ending, and look forward to a future that will no doubt be just as rich and full of love and joy, but in a different way.
Because, the fact is, I’m excited for my friends’ kids. They will be more people for me to love. I don’t want to resent them even the tiniest bit. So I’m telling myself that grieving this ending will make the beginning all the more exciting.
Remind me, however, when it comes time for those kids to leave for college or to stop coming to the lake house or any other last times they have in store, to stop and savor those last times, too.
Anyway, on to the recs…
Rec 1
Reboot (book)
If you, too, are feeling the real dystopian nature of the US right now, but also want to laugh, may I recommend Justin Taylor’s* latest novel? A washed up, left-the-biz-and-opened-a-restaurant star of an early 2000s teen TV show (Buffy meets Dawson’s Creek) embarks on a social media-fueled endeavor to help reboot said TV show. I know that sounds very inside baseball, but it’s really not. It’s actually much more of a hilariously satirical commentary on social media culture, the attention economy, toxic fandom, conspiracy theories, climate change, and the Great American Meltdown.
It’s hard to explain much more about the book because it is such a wild ride, and one that does sometimes feel like being online in this day and age. And yet there’s also a catharsis to seeing it all happen to someone else. To being able to laugh at the absurdity of the protagonist’s experience and wonder if maybe both his reality and ours aren’t just some insane fever dream.
Put another way, Reboot is the best kind of societal commentary: One that entertains first, while challenging and questioning throughout it all. I had a blast.
*Full disclosure, Justin is a friend! But I’m very much not the only one recommending this book. Also, I got a real kick out of listening to the audiobook, which he also narrates.
Where: Borrow for free from your local library, or buy from your non-Amazon bookseller of choice. (Here’s the Bookshop US link, but it unfortunately doesn’t seem to be on Bookshop UK.)
(In the name of full transparency: I’ve included affiliate links to Bookshop.org – if you’re going to order from them anyway, please use my link so I can make a little extra cash! If you want to see/order any/all of my book recs, I’ve made lists on Bookshop, too: US version, UK version.)
Rec 2
My Old Ass (film)
For something far more heart-warming… In this delightful sort-of-coming-of-age story, a girl getting ready to go away to university in a month takes mushrooms on her 18th birthday and somehow becomes able to see and communicate with her 39-year-old self (played by the always excellent Aubrey Plaza). It’s heart-warming, it’s hilarious, it’s just the right level of contemporary while also feeling timeless. Plus, it’s set on a gorgeous Canadian island in peak summer, so it’s got that nostalgic and escapist outdoors thing going.
This was one of those films that people (largely, fellow women in our late 30s) have been recommending for ages, and I’m only bummed I didn’t listen to them sooner. It’s not reinventing any wheels, apart from its clever conceit and an excellent twist, but rather is simply an excellent version of a familiar genre. What especially elevates it beyond the usual is the emotional journey for Aubrey Plaza’s character. What would any of us do if we had a chance to talk to our 18-year-old selves? What would you try to change, without knowing what the consequences could be? What do you wish you had appreciated at that age?
Anyway, I laughed, I cried, I will absolutely be rewatching whenever I’m in the mood for a smart, heartfelt coming-of-age story.
Where: Amazon Prime
Rec 3
Nickel Boys (film)
As a general rule, I try not to recommend things that I think you’re already hearing loads about from people who aren’t me. Which means that, the later we get into awards season, the fewer awards films I recommend. In fact, when I first started putting together this issue in January, I was going to recommend both A Complete Unknown and The Brutalist. But in the intervening time, it has felt like both films are everywhere, so you can get your recs on those from someone who isn’t me. (I have thoughts, they both have their flaws and their highlights, we can discuss in person or in the comments if you want.)
The awards season film that I haven’t seen enough about – that I think you all might still need a rec for – is RaMell Ross’ stunningly beautiful adaptation of Colson Whitehead’s Pulitzer Prize-winning 2019 novel, The Nickel Boys.
As I said with Emilia Pérez a few months back, I’ve never seen anything quite like Nickel Boys, and you know I’m a sucker for a film that feels like it’s charting new paths. The truly striking narrative and cinematographic styles tell a not-unfamiliar story of friendship and coming of age for two Black boys in Jim Crow-era Florida. You know going in – how can you not? – that it’s not going to be an easy story. And yet, Ross and his team – including the film’s incredible young stars, Ethan Herisse and Brandon Wilson – do an impeccable job of balancing the film’s heaviness with its beauty. Visually beautiful, but also in its relationships and its palpable love. It’s a stunning achievement.
I’ve been meaning for years to watch Ross’ acclaimed documentary, Hale County, This Morning, This Evening, which was especially praised for its fresh point of view on a community rarely given a voice. I suspect anyone who saw that wasn’t surprised by Nickel Boys’ innovative storytelling and powerful beauty.
Where: Still in a cinema near you! And also Amazon Prime
That’s all for this week! What are you reading/watching/listening to that I should be aware of? Drop me a line (or comment) to let me know if you check out any of my recs and what you think.
Please spread the word and I’ll see you in a couple weeks.
xo
Kate
Did someone share this with you?
I am in tears. You are such a wise old soul and a gifted writer. You are an indelible part of my heart and I am blessed to have you as a daughter. I love you so much. You will be a great Auntie! 😘
Kate, you are so your mom's daughter. The beginning of this article reminded me of the great always and forever friendships I share with your mom and the other girls of 50+ years ago in Vienna. The passage of time and the new friends and family as a result, you are right, just makes more people to love.