Month: June 2022

W.B. at the Movies: Dr. Strange 2

We watched Dr. Strange in the Multiverse of Madness on Saturday night, and I appreciated it for what it was. How do you go wrong, really, with a cast along the lines of Benedict Cumberbatch, Elizabeth Olsen, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Benedict Wong, Rachel MacAdams and newcomer Xochitl Gomez?

I have resigned myself to the fact that the Stephen Strange of my youth has left the building. “My” Dr. Strange would be more likely to shout “By the hoary hosts of Hogarth!” when alarmed, as opposed to “S#!+!” and he had no sense of humor, so some of this character’s wisecracks feel like something out of Tony Stark’s mouth in an Iron Man movie.

Be that as it may, this latest Marvel movie is entertaining — although I’m not sure I would take children to see it, as some of the scarier imagery made Red blanch — and a couple of new characters made my comic-book geek soul soar, played by John Krasinski and Charlize Theron (to keep spoilers at bay). 

You need to be at least familiar with the Disney+ series WandaVision to fully understand the plot, which extends the TV show’s exploration of how grief affects a superhero’s psyche. I do hope the denouement of this film brings that episode to a close so that, if Elizabeth Olsen reprises the role, we can go back to seeing her as the powerful force for good that she has been in the past. (Her seething delivery of the line, “You took everything from me,” remains one of my bone-chilling favorite moments of Avengers: Endgame.)

Oh, and that one-eyed monster in the movie’s opening scenes was so spot-on Ditkoesque that I’m pretty sure that delighted childish squeal I heard came from me.

Morning routine

Red is out in the sun, coaxing plants to bloom their flowers and yield their veggies. I am here inside on my blue chair, coaxing words to form into pleasing patterns. We have settled into this routine, although I do feel guilt about not doing more to tame our land and spruce up the house.

The arrival of the puppy has disrupted our routine. There was a time when I would wake up around 5 a.m., assume the blue chair and write, with my golden old friend curled by my side, until the rest of the household woke an hour or so later.

Now the puppy rises between 4:30 and 5, waking us all with an insistent whine to be let outside for her morning constitutional. I am still seeking a routine that will get me into the blue chair for solitary writing and reflection on a regular basis, now that 5-6 a.m. belongs to us all.

Summer is my new golden friend, and she is who she is, not a replacement for my old friend. We greet the dawn together; before she learned how to descend the 10 steps from our deck into the enclosed back yard, I would take her out front on a leash, and that remains our morning habit, even though I could easily send her out back now.

She does her No. 1, we walk up to the mailbox for the paper, and she does her No. 2. Sometimes she will sit and watch the vehicles pass on the highway up the hill, or contemplate a robin or some other early bird. I have a leash in my hand, so I can’t write whatever thoughts come to we as we welcome the new day together, but in many ways that’s better than contemplating a blank page. There’s so much life to see out there.

Poetry emotion

Do I dare to eat a peach? I am not a frequent poetry reader, but I do admire a good poem, and I do enjoy “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” with its enigmatic imagery and talking of Michelangelo.

I have fun unraveling an E.E. Cummings piece with its just-so placement of words and phrases and punctuation that makes so much delightful sense when you solve the puzzle. 

When I was a kid and made up songs by the dozen, I would turn to Mom’s poetry book when I ran out of ideas for lyrics. If I say so myself, I created a haunting rendition of Carl Sandburg’s “Grass,” a rousing version of Longfellow’s “Excelsior,” and a lovely ballad from Longfellow’s “My Lost Youth” that I may yet relearn the guitar so I can record it someday. “A boy’s will is the wind’s will, and the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.”

Most poetry these days is found in song lyrics. Paul Simon’s “The Boxer” is an astonishing poem that could stand beside “Prufrock.” Woodworth’s spirit no doubt wishes he had written a couplet like, “There were ghosts in the eyes of all the boys you sent away/They haunt this dusty beach road in the skeleton frames of burned-out Chevrolets.”

I’m glad my parents were readers and let us explore wherever our tastes and curiosity ventured. It’s why I can say with a straight face that my favorite literary works include The Scarlet Letter, The Martian and Amazing Spider-Man #31-33, and my favorite music includes Holst’s The Planets, “Good Vibrations” and “Revolution 9.”