ories? May I be permitted to doubt ways grown poorer with riches. necessity. Skepticism, he thinks, too side. Perhaps he is right. I doubt it. the notion of George Gilder that But ifwe approve of L6vy’s austere easily becomes an “alibi for sur- There is really no way to judge these the spiritual qualities of capitalism attitude, must we also follow him into render.” The times are too tough for things in advance-which, by the have been insufficiently appreciated? monotheism? This seems to me more doubt. In the age of Gulag free men way, is why it is unwise for philos- Our civilization has in SO many a matter of temperament than of require the presence of God on their ophers to forget about lunch. 0

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THE TALKIES

THE GREAT EFFEMINIST by John Podhoretz

Last month, it was widely reported previewed the movie as: “Soggy expression. It is rife with undistin- get to the bottom of this,” which that the results of a People magazine comedy-drama; outlook doubtful.” guished and trite performances, immediately signals to the audience survey listed , the star of This assessment of the movie’s Alda’s included-only Carol Burnett that serious stuff is ahead; no need the television series “M’A’S‘H,” as financial possibilities is understand- comes across at all well. Its humor for them to be surprised.) Also, Alda the person “you would most like to able, for The Four Seasons is strives for sophistication, but the parade,s around a pretty blond girl, have over at your house for dinner.” exceedingly soggy-in fact, it fairly movie gets its biggest laughs from often leaving her partly unclad (she is Mr. Alda beat out President Reagan reeks with sentimentality, a new sort one of the crudest of all comic the new wife of one of the men), so and Popelohn Paul 11, among others, of sentimentality, in which truths are routines: people overhearing, and that one can ogle while one is getting to achieve this victory. revealed to the characters every reacting to, the sounds of a man and the message. And, finally, during Now, People magazine polls on fifteen minutes or so through cathar- a woman making love passionately those ubiquitous occasions when the such subjects should not be taken sis and love. It is filled to the brim within earshot. message is being delivered some with any less grains of salt than with shots of leaves falling off trees, Two movies made in the past year kind of slapstick routine invariably other, more reputable polls. Still, it is boats in the Caribbean, snow in and dealing with much the same accompanies it-someone hilariously fascinating; what does Mr. Alda have Vermont, accompanied by a popu- subject as The Four Seasons-Loving breaks an ankle, say, or falls into the that so endears him to America? larized arrangement of Vivaldi’s Couples and A Change of Seasons- water while being harangued. As a Along with his weekly portrayal of “Four Seasons” (my advice, by the bombed miserably; so why has the director, Alda is no less subtle: When the jokey, compassionate, and god- way, is to head for the exit the next public suddenly warmed to the stov he wishes to make his meaning clear, like Hawkeye Pierce, Mr. Alda is well time you hear clasG&l-music ema- of the mid-life crisis of tired middle- he generally cuts to a close-up of known as a leading “male feminist,” nating from the soundtrack of a aged couples? Part of it must have to Carol Burnett’s wise, warm counte- as a recent New YorR Times story Hollywood film). Three couples take do with Alda’s style as a writer; his nance, as if to say, Trust this woman. described him. He was the star of the vacations together; they talk inces- lessons are pills sugar-coated by Since everybody loves Carol Burnett, successful Seduction of Joe Tynan, santly about food and about one an- grainy photography and banter that everybody is satisfied. which he wrote as well, and of the other, and hang on to their friendship only a worldly-wise eleven year old But none of this suffices as movie version of Same Time Next for dear life. It is talky, talky, talky; would very much appreciate. (For explanation. What makes this movie Year. He has won as many Emmy the soliloquy, rather than the conver- example, the character Alda plays a hit is Alan Alda himself, however awards for writing and directing as sation, is this movie’s mode of constantly says “I think we should ineffective and obvious his perfor- for acting. He is often seen on the mance may be. Despite the fact that “Tonight” show, on Merv Griffin Alda the writer-director perversely and Mike Douglas. He contributed a makes Alda the actor the villain of the favorable blurb to Letty Cottin Po- piece (and make no mistake about it; grebin’s Crowing Up Free. He has an the character Alda plays is Alan attractive, handsome face with a Alda, he sounds just like the Alan prominent nose and a wry, eloquent Alda of interviews and talk shows),’ yet colloquial way of talking. These still one look at his face brings hordes qualities obviously please some parts to a swoon. of the population; yet why has everyone in this country gone crazy for Alan Alda (who, incidentally, was Alda is such a success because he presented to the nation as a young is a paradigmatic figure. He is the movie star fifteen years ago and was unthreatening, nice, thoughtful, and not all that well received)? emasculated fellow that any Wom- en’s Libber would love to meet. He radiates inoffensiveness and an odd we can find some part of the asexuality that makes him at least as answer in Alda’s new movie,.The attractive to men as to women; he Four Seasons, which he also wrote looked ridiculous when called upon in and directed. Tbe Four Seasons is a Tbe Seduction of Joe Tynan to smash hit, a surprise for the normally demonstrate sexual passion for Meryl canny trade paper Variety, which had Streep, because Alan Alda kissing

~ anyone except in friendship is un- John Podhoretz is film critic of The thinkable. (He kisses everyone, many American Spectator. times, in friendship in The Four

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Seasons, which is probably why it is a possess the wisdom of the ages. Hollywood films of the 1940s. In must be used in making love. Beneath the bigger success than Joe Tynan.) He What a nice and pleasant vision: discussing The Best Years of Our pathos of the scene. . . one feels a is an example to his audience of the Women in the audience take comfort Lives, considered at the time the current of excitement, in which the perfect new American man; he does in their natural omniscience, men sailor’s misfortune becomes a kind of finest Hollywood movie ever made, wish-fulfillment, as one might actually not think of women in terms of penis take comfort in the fact that they are Warshow captured the Hollywood dream it: he must be passive; therefore envy. In fact, Alda seems to be told there is no need for them to be ideal of male-female relations, as he can be passive without guilt. suffering from vagina envy: In a strong, in fact, they can be positively shown in the scenes between a young recent interview he said that he felt passive and succumb to the superior- man who has just lost his hands as a It is fascinating, isn’t it, that the women to be more “sensitive” than ity of Woman. sailor in World War I1 and his dream of Hollywood Women’s Liber- men, and The Four Seasons is his What is truly amusing about the patient, understanding wife: ation, as expressed by The Four tribute to womankind. The men in whole thing is that Alda is doing For each of the main characters, there is a Seasons and by the very person of it-Alda, Jack Weston, Len Cariou- nothing new. In fact, as Robert scene in which the woman he loves un- Alan Alda, is the same dream of are all childish boors, while the Warshow so brilliantly demonstrated dresses him and puts him to bed. And Hollywood’s Unenlightenment. It is a women-Burnett, , the in his essay “The Anatomy of when it is the sailor who is put to bed, the dream of weakness; let the Other dream becomes al.nost explicit. . . . intolerable Sandy Dennis, and Bess Falsehood,” published in 1947, this Every night, his wife will have to put him manage with the world, we await the Armstrong, the pretty blonde- was the viewpoint of those sexist to bed, and then it will be her hands that undressing. 0

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THE INTELLE~TUALOIDS

VIRGIN MARTYRS by Brenda L. Becker

‘‘ My father’s funeral was full of Queens or Brooklyn who, after crip- in Queens. “I cannot take seriously little Mass cards and Raphael Ma- priests,” begins Mary Gordon’s fust pling bouts with the Outside World, the spiritual life for anyone for whom donnas. It’s all there-all except novel, Final Payments. return in uneasy reconciliation to the ‘the tacky’ is not a lively concept,’’ belief, and the cold at the center ‘ ‘Felicitas Maria Taylor was called shell of the cathedral, where they she once wrote in a smirky-but- chills every cozy scene to a Gothic after the one virgin martyr whose apparently will dwell in anomie and serious piece on Marcel Lefebvre in vignette. name contained some hope for ordi- the company of friends all the days of Harper’s. The effect is not unlike watching an nary human happiness,” begins her their lives. The Church is not But that is bluff. She takes it dead Ingmar Bergman movie shot in second one, The Company of Wo- portrayed in grisly stock footage, but seriously, through two books nearly Archie Bunker land. We wince in men. in all its exasperating complexity-at identical in theme and outcome. The painful recognition, and feel superior Ah, you may say, here it comes. once unbending and forgiving, logi- sharpness of observation-on women to our neighbors and former selves Another Lapsed Literata has escaped cal and crazy, regal (at least in with each other, on the homely for having done so, but-we cannot the convent for the marketplace, memory) and tacky. domestic details of the Church before live like this. We feel cheated at the there to hawk elegant self-portraits Indeed, this concept of the tacky, and after Vatican 11-is relentless; fadeout when the lights go up, and complete with stigmata induced by and the impossibility of truth clothed she creeps with her camera eye in a the author knows it, and we know that Freudian demon, the Catholic therein, is central to Gordon’s work, moody slow pan over Gregorian chant they know. Has Catholicism found its Childhood. and possibly to that of anyone raised and guitar-wielding nuns, hideous ? Well, you would be right-and Not quite; I think I like Woody wrong. Miss Gordon’s two books- better. Woody’s doppelgangers run both bestsellers-can indeed be read afoul of their guilt and angst more or as familiar reverse-gear apologetics, less at random, taking the silly and , Rent-a-Joyce sagas of guilt and the somber with a wry agnostic liberation with a predictable dash of bravado. Mary Gordon’s, however, feminist rancor thrown in. are set up meticulously for the kill, But, thanks to Miss Gordon’s virgin martyrs on their way to some considerable, if uneven, talent, they altar of the Zeitgeist. We are asked to are more than that. They are deft, contemplate their spiritual ashes with thoughtful, often funny, and occa- something like admiration, and that sionally brilliant. This is not Maria is where she loses me. She doesn’t Monk scribbling on the walls of the play fair; she’s all but bribed fate to Women’s Room, and I’m tempted to get them immolated. say “alas,” because such unalloyed rubbish would be far less depressing to those of us still hanging on’by the InFinaf Payments, Gordon’s ac- fingernails. claimed debut, we met Isabel Moore. Both books present us with bright At thirty, Isabel has lost the only defector heroines from blue-collar vocation she knows-the daily care of her invalid father, a stern right-wing ‘Random House, $12.95. . ascetic. At the opening salvos, I pricked up my ears: Brenda L: Becker is contributing editor to TraveUHoliday. I gave up my life for him; only if you

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