Perhaps my skepticism about holding Hollywood to rigorous standards of veracity has to do with the fact that I grew up during an era in which “historical” films routinely departed far--and often comically--from reality.
Birdman charges forward, headlong and without stopping, alternately scourging and exalting its audience with the genuine pain and the holy-fool ridiculousness of a “washed-up” former superhero.
How different things would be if a writer of Rebecca West’s or William Finnegan’s stature had been present during the grand jury proceedings in the Garner and Brown cases to tell us what exactly transpired.
What do men expect of themselves, and what do women want from them?
Perhaps my skepticism about holding Hollywood to rigorous standards of veracity has to do with the fact that I grew up during an era in which “historical” films routinely departed far--and often comically--from reality.
Birdman charges forward, headlong and without stopping, alternately scourging and exalting its audience with the genuine pai
n and the holy-fool ridiculousness of a “washed-up” former superhero.
How different things would be if a writer of Rebecca West’s or William Finnegan’s stature had been present during the grand jury proceedings in the Garner and Brown cases to tell us what exactly transpired.
What do men expect of themselves, and what do women want from them?