DEBORAH PRUM

DEBORAH PRUM

Welcome to First Kiss and Other Cautionary Tales, a podcast where you can listen to observations on the quirkiness of life, hear short fiction read by a short person, and listen to book and movie reviews.

  1. 1d ago

    PODCAST-STERLING POINT-TV SERIES

    PODCAST-STERLING POINT-TV SERIES If you watch a trailer for the eight-episode series, Sterling Park, you might be tempted to dismiss it as a Disney-like teen show, but you would be wrong. Yes, there are a few “Disney” moments but on the whole director, Megan Park, delivers a tale well told, addressing important issues with nuance and wisdom. Fraternal twins Annie (Ella Rubin) and Connor (Keen Ruffalo—yes, son of Mark Ruffalo) inherit an island in Canada from a maternal grandfather they’ve never met. They’ve been raised in New York City by Steven, their adoptive father, played by Jay Duplass, Their mother died when they were very young. Seventeen-year-old Annie, (who looks like a cross between Ann Hathaway and Julia Roberts) discovers a letter from her grandfather that gives her ambiguous instructions. Without telling her father, Annie flies to Cananda then hires a private plane to get to the multimillion dollar island she’s inherited. The pilot of the small plane is a teenager named Ellis (Jacob Whiteduck). The instant sizzle to their interactions does gives off a Disney vibe, but no worries, their relationship proceeds in a way that made me feel there is hope for the next generation. This is not to say that the Ellis-Annie relationship is lacking in conflict and uncertainty. The presence of Rory (Daniel Quinn-Toye) provides plenty of drama. He is an ultra-wealthy former classmate of Annie’s from NYC who falls for her immediately when he sees her on the island. He’s not your typical chucklehead rich boy; he’s kind, generous, tender, and asks all the right questions. So, the love triangle is nuanced. The Ellis and Rory characters are not stereotypes. The screen writers go to great pains to develop robust back stories for both guys. Connor, Annie’s twin brother, provides comedic relief throughout the series. Pay special attention to the scene where Connor and Rory help each other stretch their hamstrings after they play some sort of racket sport. It had me laughing out loud. Some of the best acting is done by Ramona and Oona. Ramona’s mother is dead. She has been raised by her grandfather, a grandfather she just happens to share with Annie and Connor, siblings she does not know exist. Oona’s mother seems to have abandoned her and her twelve-year-old sister, Maple, whom Oona is raising. Oona and Ramona clearly are in love. At the same time, the two young women clearly have absent mother issues, which they both acknowledge. Their relationship is passionate, tumultuous, and angst filled. The behavior of these teens does not always reflect best judgment. That being said, all of seven of the main characters, ranging from twelve to eighteen, are pretty darn smart, with the twelve-year-old, Maple, being the wisest of them all. At least five of them read fancy-schmancy books, one is a concert pianist, and Connor, who portrays himself as a party boy is a closet genius. Well, maybe not genius, but very bright. The three adults in the film fall into the murky territory of not really bad guys, but also not parents their collective offspring would like to emulate. Two of the fathers regret the questionable choices they made in the past, and one woman (Rory’s mother) is a person who regrettably doesn’t not regret any of her actions. The setting, the Muskoka Lakes region of Canada is gorgeous. If I had access to a private jet, I’d zip off there in a heartbeat. The soundtrack blew me away. When I heard a clip from Joan Osborne’s song, What if God is One of Us, I knew I was in for a treat. The songs are a mix of mainstream, indie, and folk music, with performers like Teddy Swims, the Head and the Heart, and Liza Minnelli. The cinematography and the soundtrack alone make the series worth watching. Are there plot points that defy credulity? Yes, of course, I could name several but nothing egregious. There was a twist I did not anticipate that possibly wasn’t quite believable, but I liked it anyway. The end was satisfying in that wrapped up most of the major plot points and included two cliff-hangers that left room for an intriguing second season. Sterling Point is an entertaining and thought-provoking series. I recommend it so long as you are not squeamish about occasional scenes of teens making questionable choices. ### Interested in other TV series? Please check out my reviews of: FIRE BUG TASK WIDOW’S BAY 0:00 / 0:00 Sterling Point (Photo by Jen Fariello)Deborah Prum’s fiction has appeared in The Virginia Quarterly Review, Across the Margin, Streetlight and other outlets. Her essays air on NPR member stations and have appeared in The Washington Post, Ladies Home Journal and Southern Living, as well as many other places. Check out her WEBSITE. Check out her DEVELOPMENTAL EDITING SERVICES. Check out her PAINTINGS.  APPLE PODCAST SPOTIFY PODCAST

  2. Jul 22

    PODCAST-EUPHORIA, MONTANA, & THE HOUSEKEEPER & THE PROFESSOR

    PODCAST-EUPHORIA, MONTANA, & THE PROFESSOR & THE HOUSEKEEPER Are you looking for a book to read? Check out my mini reviews.             Euphoria by Lily King:             This work of historical fiction is loosely based on the life of anthropologist, Margaret Mead. The novel is set in 1930’s New Guinea, when anthropology was a nascent and not necessarily respected field of study. The narrative tension of the novel is created by both a love triangle and also the differing views the three anthropologists hold about the ways to pursue their research. King skillfully presents this tale from two distinct points of view. We mainly hear from Andrew Bankson, a depressed and on-and-off suicidal British anthropologist who is in love with Nell Stone. She is an American anthropologist who is married to Fen, an Australian anthropologist. Excerpts from Nell’s diary provide a second point of view. One takeaway for me is how often we have no idea what is going on in another person’s mind and how guessing wrong can result in tragedy. I thoroughly enjoyed this book. Montana 1948 by Larry Watson:             This slim volume of 169 pages is a coming-of-age story, told by twelve-year-old David Hayden whose father is the sheriff of a small town, a job he took on unwillingly. David’s uncle is the town physician and local war hero, who, on the surface, is a charming fellow. His grandparents are wealthy folks who control the town and its members. This includes families that have settled the area and Native Americans, the people they’ve displaced and mistreated. This spare story is elegantly told, with moving observations of disturbing events that forever shift David’s world view. The novel addresses themes of family loyalty, the harsh treatment of Native Americans, justice deferred, and the cost of living your life with integrity. The pacing is great and the prose is engaging. I read the book almost in one sitting. I wish Watson had spent more time talking about the interior life of the Native Americans who suffered greatly.  And, at the end, I wanted to see all the “bad guys” and the institutional racism dealt with in a more vigorous manner. However, the ending I yearned for would not have been realistic for the times. Regardless, I enjoyed this book and highly recommend it. The Housekeeper by Yoko Ogawa             I don’t care about baseball, and I’ve feared math since early childhood. Numbers hurt my brain. However, Yoko Ogawa’s novel gave me a deeper appreciation of both math and baseball. Although, I can’t see myself ever watching a full game.             The story is about a brilliant, but ornery mathematician who suffered a traumatic brain injury which left him with an eighty-minute short term memory.  A housekeeper and her son become an integral part of his life. The professor is forced to live  entirely in the present. He doesn’t remember the housekeeper and her son from visit to visit. However, the professor communicates his passion for math to the woman and her boy. Ultimately, they both cine to share the professor’s passion.             The story is heartwarming in a non-sentimenal way. And, miracle of miracles, I happily learned  about the beauty of math and the intricacies of baseball. The relationship between the three characters felt touching and realistic. I highly recommend the book. If you hate math, let me know if this novel changes your mind. ### Interested in more reviews? Please check out: THE GOD OF THE WOODS FOSTER 0:00 / 0:00 THREE BOOK REVIEWS (Photo by Jen Fariello)Deborah Prum’s fiction has appeared in The Virginia Quarterly Review, Across the Margin, Streetlight and other outlets. Her essays air on NPR member stations and have appeared in The Washington Post, Ladies Home Journal and Southern Living, as well as many other places. Check out her WEBSITE. Check out her DEVELOPMENTAL EDITING SERVICES. Check out her PAINTINGS.  APPLE PODCAST SPOTIFY PODCAST

  3. Jun 22

    PODCAST-WIDOW’S BAY-TV SERIES

    PODCAST-WIDOW’S BAY-TV SERIES I did not have helicopter parents. My first exposure to horror films was watching The Haunting at age ten with my father. Dear Dad, always the jokester, jump scared me at a tense moment of the movie, an event that shaved a decade off my life. Years later, in college, I stupidly re-watched the film with a bad boyfriend, who jump scared me at exactly the same moment. Based on Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House, this movie is the reason I can never fall asleep while staying in an Airbnb in an old Victorian mansion.             My second exposure to the horror genre was watching The Sixth Sense which I thought was going to be a simple psychological drama. I spent the movie with my hands covering eyes and my thumbs stuck in my ears. After watching this film, I’ve never viewed kitchen cabinets in the same way.             Created by Katie Dippold for Apple TV, Widow’s Bay is billed as a comedy horror television series. After reading many intriguing comments about it, I broke my “no horror movies” rule. I binge-watched the series on my iPhone on a daunting car trip from Virginia to Long Island. We drove up in a snarl of cars that were headed to World Cup events, a golf tournament, and the Knicks parade. The bumper-to-bumper traffic, coupled with unhinged New Yorkers behind the wheel, made the trip terrifying.             So, to distract me from the terror, I decided to watch Widow’s Bay on my iPhone. Brilliant logic, I know. Here’s the plot: Tom Loftis, played by Matthew Rhys, is mayor of Widow’s Bay, an island that townies believe to be cursed. Tom is a widower with one son, Evan, a teen who hates the place and takes every opportunity to engage in shenanigans. A mainlander himself, Tom’s main goal is to convince everyone that Widow’s Bay is safe and is a great tourist destination. The old-timer residents know better than to believe Tom and impede him at every turn. The ensemble cast of townspeople is a pitch perfect portrayal of quirky odd ducks, some of whom are innocuous, and some who are not. They are given the very best comedic lines and corporately are the highlight of the movie.             Compared to the sheer terror of our drive to Long Island, I found this series more funny than frightening. The movie is filled with the usual tropes:  a sea hag, boogeyman, spooky fog, black skies, howling wind, dungeon, jump scares galore, and your two, not one, off-kilter people periodically screaming about impending doom. I loved the campy humor and the straight-faced delivery of some of the ridiculous things ever said. The film never takes itself too seriously. For example, during an intense scene when Tom is alone in a dark room interrogating a menacing specter, the mayor’s secretary pops in, saying, “Oops, sorry. I forgot my purse.”             Good pacing and the ever-building narrative tension kept me engaged. The storyline is so over-the-top ridiculous and implausible that I never felt scared, repulsed maybe, but not scared. If I’d watched this on a big screen or even a slightly bigger screen, the experience would have been more immersive and possibly more frightening. British TV series tend to wrap up each season with a definitive ending. Not so with Americans. Widow’s Bay leaves the viewer with unresolved plot points which I found mildly annoying.  Regardless, I enjoyed this character-driven dark comedy and recommend it. ### Interested in other TV reviews? Check out: TASK SMOKE THE PERFECT COUPLE   0:00 / 0:00 Widow's Bay (Photo by Jen Fariello)Deborah Prum’s fiction has appeared in The Virginia Quarterly Review, Across the Margin, Streetlight and other outlets. Her essays air on NPR member stations and have appeared in The Washington Post, Ladies Home Journal and Southern Living, as well as many other places. Check out her WEBSITE. Check out her DEVELOPMENTAL EDITING SERVICES. Check out her PAINTINGS.  APPLE PODCAST SPOTIFY PODCAST

  4. May 7

    PODCAST-WELCOME-A BOOK REVIEW

    PODCAST-WELCOME-A BOOK REVIEW Welcome—Patterns of the Moral Life is an elegant, succinct, and persuasive book on the importance of welcoming others. This is both a well-written argument for the necessity of welcoming others and a practical guide to extending welcome in ways that are ethical and nurturing.             The book is co-authored by Lois Shepherd JD, a professor of biomedical ethics and law, and by Margaret Mohrmann, MD, PhD, a professor emerita of pediatrics, medical education, and religious studies. Given their credentials, you might be tempted to assume that this would be a dense, academic tome. Not so.             The prose is crisp and the concepts are described in a straightforward manner. The authors use vignettes to demonstrate their points, which makes the material accessible and memorable. The style is conversational and engaging. The tone mirrors the subject matter in that it’s warm and welcoming.             Chapter headings provide a clear map to the content. Here are examples of topics: Responding Rather Than Reacting, Stay Awhile, See a Human Being, Let People Tell You Who They Are, Check Your Agenda. This structure provides an easy way for the reader to approach the material and to head to chapters that might hold special interest. The practical part of this book avoids giving superficial solutions. Instead, the authors make suggestions for change that consider myriad aspects of a situation. My husband and I have tried to be intentional about how we welcome people into our lives. I am grateful at this book challenged me to think about and change some of my beliefs and behaviors. I highly recommend Welcome. ### Interested in other book reviews? Please check out: The God of the Woods Time of the Child Without You Here Allegiance 0:00 / 0:00 Welcome-Book Review (Photo by Jen Fariello)Deborah Prum’s fiction has appeared in The Virginia Quarterly Review, Across the Margin, Streetlight and other outlets. Her essays air on NPR member stations and have appeared in The Washington Post, Ladies Home Journal and Southern Living, as well as many other places. Check out her WEBSITE. Check out her DEVELOPMENTAL EDITING SERVICES. Check out her PAINTINGS.  APPLE PODCAST SPOTIFY PODCAST

  5. Apr 7

    PODCAST-NICK & MIKE, NICK & ALICE MOVIE REVIEW

    PODCAST-NICK & MIKE, NICK & ALICE MOVIE REVIEW I loved James Marsden’s performance in the TV series Dead to Me. He did an excellent job playing identical twins who had completely different personalities. The series was dark and wickedly funny. It’s worth checking out, if you don’t mind quirky and sometimes shocking material. I also enjoyed Vince Vaughn’s performance in Bad Monkey, a TV series based on Carl Hiassen’s novel. The humor wasn’t quite as sharp as I’d have liked, but I found it entertaining. When I noticed Marsden and Vaughn were starring together in the new movie Mike & Nick, Nick & Alice, I decided to watch it. Bruce happened to be knee-deep in March Madness so I watched it alone. The movie starts out with a bang, figuratively and literally. Ben Schwartz, playing a science nerd named Symon, is in his gadget-filled lab dancing and singing to Billy Joel’s song, Why Should I Worry? He’s celebrating having put the final touches on a time machine. Turns out, Symon has plenty of reasons to worry, but so as not to spoil the plot, let’s just leave it at that. Symon’s singing is awful, but his performance is spectacular and he draws me right in. I wish we’d seen more of him in the movie. The next scene takes place in a cocktail lounge full of gangsters and other shady characters.  They’re at a Welcome Home from Prison party for young Jimmy Boy, the boss’s son. After warmly greeting his scary guests, Sosa the mob boss, announces he will find and kill the rat who caused his dear son’s incarceration. Nick (Vaughn) and Quick Draw Mike (Marsden) are at the party. Nick works for Sosa. Quick Draw Mike works for Nick. Mike is having an affair with Nick’s wife, Alice. Hence, the reason for the long and somewhat clunky, movie title: Nick & Mike, Nick & Alice. The first half of the movie is great, quirky humor, inside jokes, and interesting time travel conundrums. This movie is dripping in satire; it is a gangster movie making fun of gangster movies. The jokes are nuanced. For example, when a bunch of nefarious bad guys show up at Nick’s house, in a non-ironical way, he offers them Capri Suns to drink. Now I am realizing that my description of this scene does not seem all that funny. I guess you’d have to be there. I had to stop watching the movie about two-thirds of the way through. I liked the first part so much that I persuaded Bruce to join me, which he did not want to do. To be fair, who likes to start watching a move in the middle? But I wore him down and he agreed. Unfortunately, the last third of the movie lost its momentum. It felt as if someone else had written it. The screenwriter included a couple surprises, but mostly we watched many slow-motion fights during which combatants smashed couches, shelves, tables, glass objects, and each other’s heads. You’d think the altercations might have increased the narrative tension, but no. Even though, the movie fell off the tracks for the last half hour or so, I enjoyed the heartwarming ending. Should you watch it? If you are in the mood for an arthouse film, this is not it. However, James Marsden and Vince Vaughn give high energy performances, and the gangster satire is funny. If you take snack breaks during the fight scenes, this movie could be fun to watch. ### Interested in other movie reviews? Check out: Hamnet’s Jessie Buckley in: Wicked Little Letters. Or, Olivia Coleman in: Joyride. Or, James Marsden in: Dead to Me. 0:00 / 0:00 Mike & Nick Nick & Mike (Photo by Jen Fariello)Deborah Prum’s fiction has appeared in The Virginia Quarterly Review, Across the Margin, Streetlight and other outlets. Her essays air on NPR member stations and have appeared in The Washington Post, Ladies Home Journal and Southern Living, as well as many other places. Check out her WEBSITE. Check out her DEVELOPMENTAL EDITING SERVICES. Check out her PAINTINGS.  APPLE PODCAST SPOTIFY PODCAST

  6. Mar 23

    PODCAST-DECONSTRUCTING UNICORNS & MERMAIDS

    PODCAST-DECONSTRUCTING UNICORNS & MERMAIDS Photo Courtesy of Alexander Grey 0:00 / 0:00 Deconstructing Unicorns & Mermaids Streetlight Magazine just published this essay. You can read it HERE. Longer version below: My four-year-old granddaughter, Zoe, and her seven-year-old brother, Henry, (names changed) live out-of-state. We often meet via Zoom. We share a screen and explore their burning questions by searching YouTube videos.             Henry is interested in science, sort of. For a while, he wanted to watch presentations about black holes, natural disasters, and the multiverse. Now he’s moved on to the human body. He has questions like, what happens if you eat a worm? Or the latest, what happens if you never cut your fingernails? Diana Armstrong holds the record for the longest fingernails, 21 feet per hand. She can’t pick up items from the floor or open her refrigerator. Now Henry is convinced that trimming his nails is in his best interest.             Last Saturday morning, Zoe wanted to know:  Do unicorns exist? Are mermaids real?             I believed the answers we’d find might shift her taste in clothing, movies, music, and even inform the choice of stuffed animal she snuggles with at night. We discovered that unicorn sightings might have been skinny rhinoceros or possibly rare Italian one-horned deer. We also learned that mermaids likely were manatees basking on boulders, or the wishful thinking of sailors who had been at sea too long.             This news didn’t crush the child. A week later, when I asked Zoe what she wanted to be when older, she said, “A unicorn.” When I raised my eyebrows, she responded, “Okay, maybe a mermaid princess.”             I felt surprised that Zoe continued to believe in the existence of unicorns and mermaids despite watching videos that made a strong case that neither creature exists. However, she not only still believed unicorns and mermaids were real, but Zoe also thought they were viable career choices. This led me to google: Why do people persist in clinging to convictions that clearly are not true? Folks tend to believe both what they’ve been told and what they have experienced. In the face of indisputable facts, it’s difficult to let go of long held beliefs. All the adults in Zoe’s life supported her view that these magical creatures are real. All the books she’s read, movies she’s watched and songs she’s listened to confirm that these beings live rich and varied lives, lives filled with romance and adventure.             My not-so-scholarly internet search also revealed that emotionally charged lies can be more convincing than facts. They evoke strong feelings which impede critical thinking. Zoe possesses great affection for unicorns and mermaids. For now, she’s likely to ignore the obvious. Lastly, I read about motivated thinking which is when people forgo rational thinking and cling to an erroneous belief, if it benefits them in a tangible way.  Unlike unicorns and mermaids, Zoe has never questioned the existence of the Tooth Fairy. This pragmatic child probably wouldn’t want to endanger her primary source of income. Why mess with success?  I’ve been blind to my own false assumptions. Often, it takes a close friend or relative to point out what I’m missing. Years ago, I was convinced that I treated my two sons equally. However, a friend pointed out that whenever my three-year-old pitched a fit, I’d do anything to appease him. I appreciated her input, but believed she was wrong.             Later, at a family event, my father filmed me grabbing a tambourine out of my five-year-old’s hand and giving it to my screaming three-year-old who wanted it. A few weeks later, when we were watching the video, I realized my friend had given me accurate feedback. I’d made the false assumption that since I was trying hard to be a good parent, I’d never make the rooky mistake of favoring one boy over the other. Until I watched the video, I couldn’t see what was right before my eyes.             Zoe’s belief in the existence of mermaids and unicorns isn’t hurting anyone. I’m happy she still can picture a rosy future for herself as a mermaid princess.             However, the stakes of ignoring the truth are higher for us adults. The assumptions we make affect our perception of reality. False assumptions have consequences. When we adults get our facts wrong, people can suffer and die. Democracy can collapse.             One trait that Zoe and Henry share is their curiosity. Like many children, they ask questions and take nothing for granted. Being curious requires an admission that you don’t know everything and that you are willing to explore in all directions for an answer.             Einstein advised, “Never lose a holy curiosity.” Einstein meant one should approach the world in a spirit of humility and in an open-minded search for truth.             I want so badly to state that maintaining a childlike curiosity will result in world peace, but I know there’s no quick fix. However, Einstein was no slacker, so maybe we should follow his lead.  What if we approach our assumptions with a holy curiosity and thereby take an ever-so-tiny step in the right direction. (Names of children changed.) ### Read at STREETLIGHT.   (Photo by Jen Fariello)Deborah Prum’s fiction has appeared in The Virginia Quarterly Review, Across the Margin, Streetlight and other outlets. Her essays air on NPR member stations and have appeared in The Washington Post, Ladies Home Journal and Southern Living, as well as many other places. Check out her WEBSITE. Check out her DEVELOPMENTAL EDITING SERVICES. Check out her PAINTINGS.  APPLE PODCAST SPOTIFY PODCAST

  7. Mar 17

    PODCAST-SON OF A BIRD-BOOK REVIEW

    PODCAST-SON OF A BIRD-BOOK REVIEW Writers are often advised to leave out the boring parts. Nin Andrews did just that with her memoir in prose poems called Son of a Bird. I couldn’t put the book down.             In the first poem of her collection, Andrews describes her childhood home, a stone farmhouse with a barn where the horses and chickens slept, and where the kittens and foals were born each spring. This sounds bucolic, but not all was well. One night when a horse named Ella dies, Andrews runs from the barn back to her bed where she can’t fall asleep. She writes a letter entitled, Dear Future Me, in which she says she would like to grow up to be a horse. (Later, she practices by eating grass, whinnying, and trotting. She cantors and gallops and tries to make the horse jumps, often falling and skinning her knees.)             In the letter, Andrews tells her future self not to forget her, to write about her, but when she writes about her, to make her prettier and fast. Then, at the end of this poem, adult Andrews observes what I believe to be the thesis statement of this memoir. Andrews says about herself as a child, “Back then you didn’t love you very much and hoped I’d make you better after the fact. Which is strange, I think, for a child.” This sentiment sets the stage for the rest of the volume.             The youngest of six children, Nin was born to parents who wanted a son, a fact she knew from a young age. Her father was an architect and a complicated man. Her mother had Asperger Syndrome. The woman has an aversion to showing physical affection, which is hard on Nin. Miss Mary, a nanny, provides Nin with nurturing and physical care for the first five years of her life. The nanny defends and protects Nin, too. At one point, Miss Mary is so angry with how the child’s parents treat her, she says, “Damn white folks—don’t even know how to raise their own chillens.”             I lost track of how many times Nin is hospitalized with eye surgeries, respiratory infections, and suicidal depression. In one poem, she describes her mother as shrugging as Nin stands at the edge of a stone ledge. Her mother doesn’t move to help, assuming Nin won’t fall. But, of course, Nin tumbles off the precipice and is injured. Another time, one morning, a truck driver finds Nin by the side of the road, unconscious and lying next to her bike. He drives her to the ER. Later in the afternoon, a doctor from the hospital calls and asks her father if he is missing a daughter, which he was, although he and no one else in the family had noticed.             All these stories are told without  self-pity and are interwoven with gorgeous images of farm life and wise observations about the complexity of marriage and sibling relationships. Because Andrews tells these stories in a lyrical way, with a generous dollop of humor, the sadness is bearable and the prose is uplifting. For example, Nin nearly dies during sinus surgery because of a bad reaction to anesthesia. She wakes up gagging, with the doctor sobbing by her side. The doctor says, “We thought we lost you…Anesthesia is not your friend.” Andrews ends the poem by saying, “Anesthesia, I thought then, was a Russian princess or evil stepmother who poisoned me again and again.”             The pacing in this collection is brisk. The poems are not necessarily in chronological order, but the flow from poem to poem makes emotional sense, thereby creating a satisfying narrative arc. The prose is spare and succinct. Andrews never uses one word more than she needs to convey her life story, which is filled with beauty, courage, and resilience. I plan to re-read the volume soon. It’s that good. ### Interested in reading more book reviews? Check out:  The Caretaker, Time of the Child, and Without You Here.   0:00 / 0:00 Son of a Bird Add Text here… (Photo by Jen Fariello)Deborah Prum’s fiction has appeared in The Virginia Quarterly Review, Across the Margin, Streetlight and other outlets. Her essays air on NPR member stations and have appeared in The Washington Post, Ladies Home Journal and Southern Living, as well as many other places. Check out her WEBSITE. Check out her DEVELOPMENTAL EDITING SERVICES. Check out her PAINTINGS.  APPLE PODCAST SPOTIFY PODCAST

  8. Feb 20

    PODCAST-HOW TO GET TO HEAVEN FROM BELFAST-MOVIE REVIEW

    PODCAST-HOW TO GET TO HEAVEN FROM BELFAST-MOVIE REVIEW               Elle Magazine describes the Netflix series, How to Get to Heaven from Belfast, as “Derry Girls meets Bad Sisters.” I liked Derry Girls so much that I used many clips from it for a humor writing workshop I facilitated a few years ago. I loved Bad Sisters, too. The series is a perfectly structured mystery with the best ensemble cast ever. I watched it three times twice for pure enjoyment and a third time to study plot structure and comic timing. Lisa McGee created both Derry Girls and How to Get to Heaven from Belfast, so I looked forward to watching the new series. Here’s the basic plot: Four best friends experience a traumatic event as teens. Three of them stay in touch, but because of the event, they estrange themselves from the fourth. Later, as adults, the three are summoned back to their hometown to attend the wake of that fourth friend. Perhaps out of curiosity or guilt, they decide to travel home to pay their respects. Not only do they discover that their friend may not be dead, but they also believe she might be in danger. Mayhem and hijinks ensue during the next eight episodes. Each of the three women is dissatisfied with her life, which may be why they decide to task on the dangerous and complicated task of trying to unravel the disappearance. One is the head writer for a highly popular murder mystery series that she has come to hate. She is engaged to a man who can think of only himself. The second woman has three children whom she loves but drive her crazy. In our introduction to her, we see her imagining smashing her head on the steering wheel of her car as her kids bicker in the back seat. Out of shame and fear, the third woman gives up the love of her life and instead lives with her mother in her hometown. She has few outlets other than attending church, which she doesn’t seem to enjoy. The shots of the Irish countryside are beautiful. All four of the women actors deliver high energy performances and they seem to have fun while doing so. The humor is dark and absurd, which I like. The story moves along at a pretty good pace, but there were so many twists and turns, I had difficulty keeping track of the plot. The setting, especially the spooky parts, was great. Interesting fact–while working on Derry Girls, McGee visited the ruins of the convent where she attended elementary school. The visit brought her back to her school days. Some of the filming of How to Get to Heaven from Belfast took place in at the abandoned school. What I loved about Derry Girls and didn’t quite see here, was an ensemble of distinctly different characters. Yes, the How to Get to Heaven from Belfast women all made different life choices in terms of career and marriage, but all three had a similar tone: bitter, angry, regretful, unsure if their lives had meaning. The truth is probably many women feel that way at this age but having all three of them be relentlessly negative felt exhausting. The movie has lots of funny spots. Some of the cultural references went over my head, but that’s on me. If I decide to watch this a second time, I will read up on Derry, Belfast and Donegal. Even though How to Get to Heaven from Belfast wasn’t as crisp and punchy as Derry Girls, I’m glad I watched it. ### More viewing possibilities: WICKED LITTLE LETTERS GHOSTLIGHTING TASK LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT SMOKE 0:00 / 0:00 How to Get to Heaven from Belfast (Photo by Jen Fariello)Deborah Prum’s fiction has appeared in The Virginia Quarterly Review, Across the Margin, Streetlight and other outlets. Her essays air on NPR member stations and have appeared in The Washington Post, Ladies Home Journal and Southern Living, as well as many other places. Check out her WEBSITE. Check out her DEVELOPMENTAL EDITING SERVICES. Check out her PAINTINGS.  APPLE PODCAST SPOTIFY PODCAST

Ratings & Reviews

5
out of 5
3 Ratings

About

Welcome to First Kiss and Other Cautionary Tales, a podcast where you can listen to observations on the quirkiness of life, hear short fiction read by a short person, and listen to book and movie reviews.