Review: 'Conversations with Mark Frost: Twin Peaks, Hill Street Blues, and the Education of a Writer'

David Lynch is responsible for the immediately recognizable visual language of Twin Peaks, but as far as its story goes, Mark Frost had the most control over its direction on an episode-to-episode basis. Yet Frost is serially left out of the conversation because he does not have Lynch’s flair for self-promotion and because he did not have as audacious a resume as Lynch did before the show began.

David Bushman’s new book Conversations with Mark Frost: Twin Peaks, Hill Street Blues, and the Education of a Writer sets the record straight in a few ways. Between February 2018 and October 2019, Bushman conducted a series of 22, one-hour phone interviews with Mark Frost after clearly doing a lot of homework. Bushman asks the right questions to fill in each significant phase of Frost’s family, personal, and creative history. And that history is startling and peppered with odd anecdotes. His grandfather was one of the first doctors to work with Margaret Sanger on Planned Parenthood. His dad Warren (Twin Peaks’ Doc Hayward) once had dinner with FDR. Mark investigated UFOs with a guy from MUFON in the late seventies. He worked alongside Michael Keaton in the lighting department of Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood and dubbed either Bennie or Bjorn’s voice (he can’t remember which) in a documentary about ABBA.

Review: 'Cinema ’62: The Greatest Year at the Movies'

Many cinephiles consider 1939 to be the best year for movies, though that largely depends on your tolerance for Gone with the Wind (I have none). Last year, Brian Rafferty made a pretty good case for 1999 despite that being the year of American Pie and The Phantom Menace. Now Stephen Farber and Michael McCellan are tossing another year’s hat into the ring with their new book Cinema ’62: The Greatest Year at the Movies.

Review: 'The Paul McCartney Catalog: A Complete Annotated Discography of Solo Works, 1967-2019'

Paul McCartney was the most creatively driven Beatle, and he kept up an unstoppable pace of writing and recording after the band broke up that is still ongoing. Not only did McCartney release a slew of albums and singles in his signature pop mold as a solo artist and member of Wings, but he also experimented with orchestral and electronic music and participated in a number of collaborations with artists such as Elvis Costello, Carl Perkins, and Brian Wilson.

Review: 'The Science of Women in Horror: The Special Effects, Stunts, and True Stories Behind Your Favorite Fright Films'

Horror lurks on a hostile terrain, and that landscape is unquestionably most hostile toward women. Throughout most of the genre’s history, women have usually been present to shriek, get slaughtered, show their bodies, and huddle in a corner while some dude tussles with the monster. This is a particularly sorry situation since it was a woman—Mary Shelley—who invented the horror genre as we now know it two centuries ago.

Meg Hafdahl and Kelly Florence are two horror fans well aware of this problem. Their new book The Science of Women in Horror: The Special Effects, Stunts, and True Stories Behind Your Favorite Fright Films mainly functions as an entertaining movie and TV guide for feminist horror fans frustrated by the lack of non-insulting viewing options. The writers basically whittle their list of feminist-friendly horrors down to a skimpy 29 films, which probably would not fill the first ten pages of the usual horror guide. So, as their book’s unwieldy title suggests, they pack their pages with much more than the standard starred recommendations. The Science of Women in Horror offers some interesting tangents related to the real life science, history, and psychology behind the films; analyses (a reading of A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night as a sort of horror/western is particularly compelling); making-of details; and interviews with actresses, filmmakers, and fellow horror fans.

Review: 'TV Milestones: The Twilight Zone.'

The Twilight Zone haunted TV screens long before the concept of auteur TV, and though Rod Serling was the anthology’s most recognizable face, he did not write every episode. Yet Barry Keith Grant still makes a fairly solid argument for Serling’s role as auteur in the new book TV Milestones: The Twilight Zone. Grant notes how Serling promoted a groundbreaking blend of traditional genres (sci-fi, horror, noir, fantasy, western) and how his center-left politics and Hobbesian “world at war” philosophy (art vs. commerce, individuality vs. conformity, etc.) and willingness to address current events distinguished The Twilight Zone as much as its gremlins, Kanamits, and asymmetrical doctors.

I’m no great proponent of the auteur theory, and such a variety of writing, directing, cinematographic, and acting talent was involved in The Twilight Zone that it would not be my pick for a prime example of auteur TV. Yet Grant makes his case sufficiently convincing by emphasizing how much of its creator went into The Twilight Zone and how unique it was for its time as a result. That kind of focus rather than a more sweeping analysis is also smart considering how slim these TV milestones books are. Barry Keith Grant makes good use of his 100 pages.

Farewell, Terry Jones

It's easy to forget how much Monty Python reshaped the face of comedy. The six-man troupe solidified sketch comedy as arguably the most effective delivery method for laughs. They spread a distinctly British form of absurdity around the globe. They killed parrots. They made at least a couple of great movies. The Meaning of Life wasn't that great.

As the director of those movies (he co-directed Monty Python and the Holy Grail with that other Terry and did Life of Brian on his own. He also directed The Meaning of Life on his own, but don't worry too much about that one since it isn't that great. Well, Mr. Creosote is pretty funny. Feel free to think about Mr. Creosote), Terry Jones was a particularly important Python. He also co-wrote such classic sketches as "Spam", "The Spanish Inquisition", "The Ministry of Silly Walks", and "Fish Slapping Dance" with writing partner Michael Palin. He was also Mr. Creosote. Terry Jones's fascination with history that fueled the Holy Grail and sketches such as "The Spanish Inquisition" also resulted in more serious projects, specifically the books Chaucer's Knight: The Portrait of a Medieval Mercenary and Who Murdered Chaucer? both of which are apparently about Chaucer.

Sadly, Terry Jones was diagnosed with primary progressive aphasia in 2015, a form of dementia that affected his speech. On January 21, Jones died of complications from the syndrome. He was 77.

Review: 'Star Trek: Year Five'

At the beginning of each episode of Star Trek, Captain Kirk informed us that the crew of the starship Enterprise was on a five-year mission to explore strange new worlds and so on. Unfortunately, he and the rest of the gang never got to finish their mission on TV because hostile aliens from the planet NBC aborted it after just three years.

In light of season-three’s high ratio of stinker episodes like “Spock’s Brain” and “Turnabout Intruder”, Star Trek’s early cancellation may have actually been merciful, though there were more tales worth telling in that universe, hence the franchise’s healthy life beyond 1969.

One of the most recent continuations of the Star Trek story returns us to its origins to complete the Enterprise’s original mission. Star Trek: Year Five is a comic series from IDW that began last April, and the groovy thing about this series is how faithful it is to the original series at its best. Like that original, Year Five is the work of multiple writers and multiple directors—or in this case, artists—yet all are dedicated to recreating the Star Trek we know and love in terms of storytelling, characterizations, themes, and visuals. While the art style varies from issue to issue, it never becomes so stylized that we cannot recognize the faces of Shatner, Nimoy, Nichols, and the rest. As soon as Bones orders Kirk to drink brandy on the job in “episode” one (these are episodes, not issues), we are transported right back to the sixties. Fortunately, that period flavor does not extend to its treatment of Uhura, who gets a much bigger role throughout these comics than she did in the original series (Sulu, however, tends to get sidelined).

Review: 'Jack Kirby's Dingbat Love'

In the seventies, Jack Kirby developed several titles for DC Comics’ “Speak Out” series, which would skew toward a more adult readership while tackling topics such as divorce, African-American romance, and street crime. DC did not like Kirby’s approach, watering down his comics in most respects and ultimately nipping them all in the bud. Consequently, Kirby’s work on True-Life Divorce, Soul Love, and Dingbats on Danger Street has become some of the rarest artifacts from the “King of Comics”.

Review: 'TV Milestones: Twin Peaks'

Few twentieth century TV series have been as closely examined as Twin Peaks has been. Because it is so mysterious, evocative, experimental, and elliptical, David Lynch and Mark Frost’s series has invited deep, deep, deep analysis since the days before the Internet was ubiquitous. In an Internet-mired age, the analysis has gotten deeper than ever. A fan recently posted a four-and-a-half hour (!) video analysis of all three seasons and the Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me feature film that has received more than 600,000 visits as of this writing.

So what can Julie Grossman and Will Schiebel’s 88-page monograph on Twin Peaks for the TV Milestones series possibly bring to the conversation at this analytical oversaturation point? Well, without necessarily being essential, the book does accomplish a few things. Most obviously and fundamentally, it is the first printed book devoted to the analysis of Twin Peaks published since season three aired in 2017, so for those who can’t be bothered to wade through all of that Internet material, it is the handiest and most encompassing look at the Twin Peaks phenomenon to date.

Review: 'A New Day Yesterday: UK Progressive Rock & the 1970s'

Prog rock was never exactly cool, but you can’t say no one liked it. Contemporary critics tended to mock it and sighed sighs of relief when punk blew in at the end of the seventies, but punk did not sell like prog did. Even my square-as-a-chessboard dad bought a copy of Aqualung because that’s what everyone else was doing in 1971.

Decades removed from questions of “what the hell was with Topographic Oceans?”, its now generally okay to just like what you like, especially if it’s pretty geeky. Though prog was never really all about Tolkien and complex mathematical theorems as the naysayers would have you believe, it was still pretty geeky.

What I’m trying to say in my confused, convoluted, proggy way is that the time is now right for a deep plunge into prog to both determine what it is and celebrate it. That’s what Mike Barnes does with his new book A New Day Yesterday: UK Progressive Rock & the 1970s. The UK designation in that title is fairly pointless since prog is such a distinctly British phenomenon (Rush being one exception, as well as a band that does not get so much as a single name-drop in this book. The author does cede precisely 1% of his book to a discussion of German prog bands, though).