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Post by Nalkarj on Jul 15, 2022 17:00:31 GMT
Yesterday I read a play I’ve wanted to read for a long time, Anthony Shaffer’s Whodunnit (1977). Shaffer also wrote Sleuth, both play and film; a handful of other comedy-thriller plays ( Murderer is underrated); and a bunch of screenplays, notably Frenzy, The Wicker Man, and the Peter Ustinov Agatha Christie adaptations. Whodunnit, alas, is not one of Shaffer’s best. It’s got a good premise: The first act presents a generic Christie-style ’30s mystery, the second act reveals it was all fake and everyone is an actor participating in a dinner-theater-esque scenario—except that the “victim” really has been murdered. But it’s not as funny or witty as Sleuth, and it just becomes confusing after the second-act twist. One good gimmick, based on something in Christie’s And Then There Were None, has the murderer telling us he is deliberately planting clues so that we can guess his identity, but the cluing is strained. I don’t see how anyone could figure out the solution. The worst thing is that for one plot element in the second act to work, the characters have to be morons. They realize that the guy is dead and they’re no longer acting, but they pretend that they’re still the characters, apparently for no other reason than to surprise the audience—which of course is not a character in the play. And as cartoony as the play is, that element crosses the suspension-of-disbelief line too much. It’s an interesting contrast with another comedy-thriller play I recently read, Stephen Sondheim and George Furth’s Broadway flop Getting Away with Murder (1996). Getting Away has a good first act with catty dialogue, as in Sondheim’s other murder mystery, The Last of Sheila, but its second act is a near-total misfire. Whodunnit never has a comparable drop-off in quality, but it also never attains the heights of Getting Away’s first act, let alone the entireties of Sleuth and Sheila.
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Post by thekindercarebear on Jul 16, 2022 0:05:38 GMT
I recently completed King of Ashes Queen of Storms and last week Master of Furies all by Raymond E. Feist.
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Post by thekindercarebear on Jul 16, 2022 0:08:16 GMT
currently re-reading Exile's Returm
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Post by gspdude on Jul 16, 2022 12:24:10 GMT
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Post by Zos on Jul 19, 2022 13:48:36 GMT
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Post by DanaShelbyChancey on Jul 20, 2022 15:48:17 GMT
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Post by Captain Spencer on Jul 21, 2022 2:02:14 GMT
Re-reading Richard Laymon's debut novel.
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Post by SuperDevilDoctor on Jul 21, 2022 22:55:39 GMT
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Post by Ass_E9 on Jul 31, 2022 15:37:09 GMT
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Post by nutsberryfarm 🏜 on Jul 31, 2022 19:49:56 GMT
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Post by theravenking on Aug 1, 2022 14:31:39 GMT
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Post by DanaShelbyChancey on Aug 1, 2022 18:16:54 GMT
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Post by Feologild Oakes on Aug 2, 2022 18:16:26 GMT
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Post by nutsberryfarm 🏜 on Aug 2, 2022 22:00:38 GMT
pretty funny:
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Post by CrepedCrusader on Aug 4, 2022 3:00:47 GMT
Freebird by Jon Raymond
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Post by Jep Gambardella on Aug 5, 2022 0:47:18 GMT
Just finished "Killers of the Flower Moon". Wow, what a horrible story. Great book though.
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Post by SuperDevilDoctor on Aug 5, 2022 21:05:44 GMT
Finishing up the trilogy...
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Post by Zos on Aug 7, 2022 10:34:41 GMT
Great fun, would definitely recommend this one, indiscreet and funny.
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Post by theravenking on Aug 7, 2022 12:34:22 GMT
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Post by Nalkarj on Aug 8, 2022 3:43:48 GMT
Quick reread of a longtime favorite, Helen McCloy’s Through a Glass, Darkly (1950). McCloy is one of my favorite writers—lyrical and graceful, with a talent for the subtly sinister. Through a Glass is, for me, genuinely haunting; rereading it made me realize just why. McCloy achieves her terror almost entirely through M.R. James-ian understatement, allowing the mind to complete the picture. I love the characters, particularly Gisela. (And Faustina is unforgettable.) McCloy characterizes with such seeming ease, in such clear but fine strokes. The mystery puzzle is clever (some nice cluing), but that’s not really the point: The writing, mood, and ending are what make the book. Examples of McCloy’s writing:
Oh, would it make a fine film, though I’d be curious at (and a bit worried by) how filmmakers would handle the ending. That ending makes me wonder exactly what McCloy was going for, what she thought of what she wrote. I simply don’t know. Just so good. I’ve always had trouble finding McCloy’s books; I hope some publisher reprints her work soon.
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