Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 4/15

I re-watched The Departed (2006) last night, courtesy of Netflix. I'm glad I did. As is the case with many of Martin Scorsese's films, it improves with the second viewing, once the shock of the violence, profanity and cynicism become secondary to the engrossing story and wonderful performances. Leonardo DiCaprio is not appreciated enough. He is terrific, as usual. The film is actually a remake of Internal Affairs (Hong Kong, 2002), which I have not seen. Viewers will be forced to figure out a few instances in the plot that remain unexplained. It does not detract from the power of this near great endeavor, which won Oscars for Best Film, Editing, Directing and Screenplay (William Monahan). I chose it over PBS' airing of Howard Hawks' classic screwball comedy, Bringing Up Baby (1938), starring Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn. I prefer drama to comedy. I can't get into sitcoms, which seem nothing more than set-ups for one-liners. Friends is one of the most revered and critically acclaimed shows of all time. So far I haven't been able to watch more than a minute at a time. I had the same trouble initially with Seinfeld, not because of one-liners, but because I couldn't stand a lot of the things George did. When I finally got inured to him, I realized the show's genius. It is a penetrating look at modern life and, in the case of Mr. Costanza, a reflection of impulses that tempt most of us but that we almost always reject. Jason Alexander was made rich by that role. He earned every penny. I don't know that any character, especially in a sitcom, was ever made to look as pathetic as George Costanza. It is amazing that viewers have such affection for him. There is no other character like him. I suppose Larry David of Curb Your Enthusiasm, who co-created Seinfeld, is George's doppelganger, but that seems merely a continuation of the role.
The floating bookshop had a visit from actor-singer extraordinaire Johnny Feets today, baseball cards in tow. He had two auditions over the weekend for off-Broadway roles and shows signs of tiring of the artist's life, of not being paid to act. Staying in character, he purchased a baseball bloopers video. Thanks, buddy. My only two other customers were elderly Russian women. One bought a book on dance and a video in her native tongue, and the other bought three novels in Russian. Spasibo, ladies.
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