flatways Furrows
Novotroitsk In the splash and the clay,
I can picture you gray
And see you
See through me.
When I fret, I frown.
Burrowed in furrows
Landing harmlessly
In maroon coats
That pocket the point.
Whatever it was.
Kurt Vonnegut tells his wife he’s going out to buy an envelope:
“Oh, she says, well, you’re not a poor man. You know, why don’t you go online and buy a hundred envelopes and put them in the closet? And so I pretend not to hear her. And go out to get an envelope because l’m going to have a hell of a good time in the process of buying one envelope.
“I meet a lot of people. And see some great looking babies. And a fire engine goes by. And I give them the thumbs up. And I’ll ask a woman what kind of dog that is. And, and I don’t know. The moral of the story is – we’re here on Earth to fart around.
“And, of course, the computers will do us out of that. And what the computer people don’t realize, or they don’t care, is we’re dancing animals. You know, we love to move around.
“And it’s like we’re not supposed to dance at all anymore.”
To the dance. It keeps the world spinning correct.
Baby Reindeer is not what you expect.
Initially, you think you’re watching a television series about a stalker. Then it’s a show about sexual grooming. By the time you’re done binging the seven-part anthology series, you’re not sure what you just saw. But you’ll never forget it.
The year’s best show so far flew virtually under the radar when Netflix introduced it earlier this month. And a full two weeks after its release, Reindeer managed only nine critic reviews.
But it’s telling that not a single review on RottenTomatoes is negative. While the show may not be everyone’s cup of tea, its writing, craftsmanship and storyline is so riveting there’s no taking your eyes off Richard Gadd, the creator and star of Reindeer.
The film is based on a true story in which Gadd received more than 41,000 texts and 350 emails from a stalker. While Gadd changed the names and some circumstances to protect real people, he nails real emotion on the head.
Gadd plays Donny, a hopeful comedian who works at a British pub and comes across Martha (Jessica Gunning), a woman who claims to be a successful lawyer, but who can’t afford a Diet Coke. Everything about Martha screams loser — except Martha, who appears brimming with confidence. It’s a lovely glimpse at what we consider attractive, and who gets to decide.
Not long after Donny offers a kindness, things go south in a hurry. Where Gadd’s phone blew up in real life, in Reindeer Donny’s email is inundated.
And it’s here, in the show’s portrayal of mental disorder, that it sets itself apart from every other show on TV. The series bristles with misspellings and off-acronyms as Gadd utilizes the manic missives to wondrous effect. When I was a police reporter in Detroit and D.C., we had an offhand rule: If the letter to the editor is written past the margins, the writer is loony.
Reindeer takes place on-screen, but its narrative brilliantly blows by any margins. You can feel the series’ tensile strength straining with each note sent.
As Donny flees the unwanted advances, he finds himself making poor (though understandable) decisions that simply compound the problems in his life.
Halfway through the show, you won’t know who poses the real threat to Donny — including Donny. You pull for characters you’d never expect, turn on those you once thought true.
Kind of like life. Kind of like love.
What a find! It’s hard to lament the death of the big screen when the small one keeps cranking out gems like this.
Some critics will eventually pan Baby Reindeer. But you can bet they never took their eyes off it.
