The Fixer

I keep coming back to Steven Van Zandt’s character, Frankie Tagliano in the Netflix TV series “Lilyhammer.”  His nickname is “The Fixer”.  J.J. Abrams  TV series “Person of Interest” (CBS Thursdays)  also has “a fixer”; an armed and dangerous guardian angel played by Jim Caviezel.  These guys are the opposites of  what we call managers.  Both of them encounter huge public bureaucracies with rules and regulations and they choose to help somebody in trouble by breaking those rules; going around authority.  They don’t seek to control or manipulate the situation or keep it calm.  They fix it.  Okay, and I should add they are very good at cracking heads and are crack shots to boot.

I’ve been a bit obsessed lately with the idea of a “manager” and “management”.  I don’t get it.   Why manage something?  You either fix it or you don’t.  Okay, when somebody is feeling blue or just wants to vent, you can listen to them.  But that’s called “being present”.  You aren’t fixing it; or controlling or manipulating anything as per the dictionary definition of “managing”.  You listen and you let them breathe. Continue reading

Boxes (with links fixed)

“Little boxes on the hillside.  Little boxes made of ticky tack.”  “Boxed in.”  “Think outside the box”.

When young we go from our box in our house to another box.  It is usually an even more boring box with boring rows of brown boxy things called desks.  Every 40 minutes we were marched down the halls to our next box.  We got a couple breaks during the day called recess where, if we were lucky, we could make up our own games as opposed to being forced to play group games with more rules that boxed us in.  At lunch we ate in a large box with rows of tables.  It looked very much like what we saw on TV when we watched shows like “Dragnet” or “Perry Mason”.  We saw prison inmates shuffling past vats of slop and sitting at long tables.  Like the prisons, there were places and people you could sit with and those who would shove you away or flip your tray over.  Did you notice that both kids and prisoners liked to stick their foot out and trip you? Continue reading

Living Large in Small Places

Sometimes Evie Taloney veers away from movie and TV reviews and saunters off into butting in on advice columnists.  Now everybody knows in real life you don’t want somebody offering you unsolicited advice.  “Can I give you some advice?”  “NO!” (you scream in your head as you politely listen to some critique of your persona).  So don’t read any further because Evie’s got some “Opinions Worth Ropin’”.

“Evie Taloney’s Opinions Worth Ropin’”

There are some ideas that have prodded me through my life sometimes with a gentle nudge and sometimes, yes, like a cattle prod, jolting me into my next life phase. My journeys have taken me through the thickets of living large in small places.  “Small places” can occupy spots in large cities or in the wide open vast spaces of Big Sky Country in Montana.  You can inhabit a beautiful bubble in Manhattan where you live and love amongst your own kind.  Or  here where the plains meet the mountains you run into a fair amount of”can’t see the forest for the trees” “nose to the grindstone” kind of folks who predominate in the human species. They are sometimes referred to as “small minded” but they keep the gears moving in our social systems.  They are guardians of “if it’s not broke, don’t fix it”.   So they aren’t prone to color outside the lines much.  And they have a tendency to look askance at any kind of uppity outside the box behavior from women like me. Continue reading

Obedience is For the Dogs

My sister’s dog has passed obedience school, but she (the dog not my sister) put up a hell of a fight at first, I’m told, and was put in another class.    Eventually she agreed to work on agility, but not necessary buy into the whole deal.  I get it.  Having pretty much been a round peg in a square holed society all my life, I know what it’s like to try to buck the system, color outside the lines, and, yes, not fetch when commanded. Continue reading

Evie Taloney’s “Flics Worth Ropin” – “Lilyhammer”

Run, don’t walk, to view “Lilyhammer” the original series on Netflix.  Well, in the spirit of the thing, you should shush not snowshoe since it takes place in the little town of Lillehammer, Norway site of the 1994 Winter Olympics.  And there is a whole lot of snow there, you betcha. And every conceivable kind of character from tree huggers to ice skating Muslim immigrants.

Steven Van Zandt (of the E Street Band and “The Sopranos”)  stars in this dramedy about a mob guy, Frank “The Fixer” Tagliano, who goes into witness protection and asks to be relocated to Norway.  Figures no one will find him there.  But as the series continues, a series of flukes and flukey characters like a cop who moonlights as an Elvis impersonator may test that theory.  His theory that this is a peaceful idyllic place is also tested from the get go as he has to “fix” a situation on the train ride from Oslo to Lillehammer. Continue reading

Evie Taloney’s “Flics Worth Ropin’” (and some that aren’t) – The Hairdo That Ate The World

I couldn’t take my eyes off her hairline.  As I watched “The Iron Lady”, a disjointed yet disturbing movie, starring Meryl Streep, I became mesmerized by her head.  First it was the hairline that attached a massive Eighties’ hairdo to a massive forehead.  As I watched the flic, the head got larger and larger like Helena Bonham Carter’s head as the Red Queen in “Alice in Wonderland”. Continue reading

“That City is Real Nice”: A Review of “Midnight in Paris”

I am happy to report that after 15 years, Evie Taloney is back in the saddle writing “Evie Taloney’s ‘Flics Worth Ropin’”.  Her sidekick Cowboy Clay is also loping alongside her.  Her latest review is on Woody Allen’s “Midnight in Paris”.

Cowboy Clay and I just got done watching Woody Allen’s latest movie “Midnight in Paris”.  It’s a treat, I’ll tell you,  for the eyes and the ears.   You can’t watch a movie about Paris without thinking about food and drink though.  So I was wondering what kind of food best describes this movie and, at first, I thought of a bonbon.  But that doesn’t fit.  This movie is not a small confection.  But it’s no Croque Monsieur, either.  There is no ham in this sandwich.  This is a genuinely funny movie with a timely message.  So, it’s more like an inverted Creme Brulee.  It’s got a hard crunchy truth underneath it’s warm creamy custard surface.

This is a movie about Gil played by Owen Wilson who has a job.  But he hates his job.  Unlike most Americans though he makes a lot of money at this job. He writes screenplays and his screenplays are indeed bonbons and don’t make him happy.  He wants to quit his job and work on his novel.  Yes, he wants to work but not at a job.

So what’s to stop him?  Well it’s his fiancee, Inez, played by Rachel McAdams and her rich parents played by Mimi Kennedy and Kurt Fuller.  Gil sees Paris as the place where great artists and writers have found their muses.  He loves the city.  Inez and her parents see Paris as a place to shop and hate the French. Inez wants to go home and decorate their future house in Malibu.  Gil wants to stay and live his dream of writing a great American novel.  For Inez, it’s what Gil earns not what he does.

Most people here don’t have the luxury to choose meaningful work over a job.  And people like Gil often have the luxury but don’t have the courage to act on their compulsion.

So what compels him forward?  I’m not going into detail but it involves hanging out with Ernest Hemingway, Zelda and Scott Fitzgerald, Pablo Picasso, Salvador Dali and a bunch more characters from the 1920s. Gil finds out how much impact these writers had on him.  “T.S. Eliot? Prufrock is like my mantra.” And so he dreams of having an impact on writers to come.

You don’t have to be a film major to enjoy Gil’s encounter with the Spanish filmmaker Luis Bunuel or an English major to laugh out loud at Zelda who is a pistol and Ernest “Have you ever shot a charging lion?” who is very very earnest.

In the end this film is not about Gil but about Paris.  Paris compels.  It compels because people in Paris sit in cafes and drink coffee and wine and talk for hours.  They play the game of bolls and talk while they play. They philosophize.  They fraternize. They read essays and take the time to discuss ideas.  They take the time to talk to each other rather than sit in front of TVs.  They live for these hours of talk.  This cafe life is primary.  Their jobs are secondary.

They can do this partly because they work 8 hour days and have simple and easy commutes.  They don’t arrive home dog tired after fighting traffic.  They run up the stairs to their apartment, put on some fresh makeup or a quick brush to the hair and off they go for their evening of cafe life.

When I asked Cowboy Clay what he thought, he said “That city is real nice.”  You betcha.

4 Spurs