Tony DiNozzo, Jr. and Sr.

I am in the middle of Season 7 (through Netflix) right now. From a mystery point of view, the writing is a tad weak. Like with many, many mystery shows (Murder She Wrote is a good example), this season relies a tad too much on the "least likely suspect." It's the bellboy! No, it's the person who waters the plants!

"Flesh and Blood," however, is an excellent episode. Whoever is writing Tony Dinozzo's character understands him very, very well.

"Flesh and Blood" is where Tony's dad shows up, and the episode makes clear that Tony's dad, who is very charming and funny with a DiNozzo off-the-cuff way of distracting people, is what Tony would be if Tony (1) weren't insatiably curious; (2) didn't have Gibbs.

Money or no money, Tony didn't have to become a cop. There were other more playboy-type careers he could have gone into. But he chose law enforcement and, although it is heavily implied that his superiors (before Gibbs) always found him a handful, he is rather exceptional at it.

And he has Gibbs.

The episode makes clear that while Anthony DiNozzo, Sr. is Tony's biological father, Gibbs is his spiritual or, from the show's point of view, real father.

This is emphasized in several places, including the scene where Gibbs has a talk with Anthony, Sr. In that scene, Gibbs' controlled wrath is evident. He is angry that this man did not come to see Tony when Tony was ill but did come when he had the chance to make some money.

The comparison between the two men's behavior is also revealing. Gibbs is, as Tony calls him, a "functional mute." Yet, watching the two men makes it clear how physically demonstrative Gibbs actually is towards Tony. Anthony, Sr. can't ever sit down, can't ever meet people's eyes. He hugs Tony at the end, but all his other physical gestures are superficial, like a handshake at a cocktail party.

Gibbs will whack Tony. He will grip Tony's shoulder in that manly way men have. In the episode where Tony has the plague, Gibbs walks into the sickroom, hunkers down, and whispers sternly, "You will not die" in Tony's ear after which he settles Tony's cellphone into his hand. He is a constant, active presence in Tony's life, something Tony needs. (I mentioned in an earlier post that Gibbs and Tony's relationship is one of the few alpha-alpha work male relationships I believe in without question. It makes complete sense to me that Tony would resist efforts to move up the ladder. He is ambitious but not in that way.)

The pay-off is Gibbs' influence on Tony. Again, a comparison, this time of father to son, proves interesting. Tony, while sometimes as physically manic as his father (Michael Weatherly is quite good at physical comedy), is more controlled and focused. Although he does, as Gibbs says, "wear the face of a clown," he is far more willing than his father to confide his troubles to the family he has created for himself. And at heart, he isn't a conman. One of my favorite lines from NCIS is when Gibbs, speaking of McGee, says to Ziva, "He isn't Ari or your father, Ziva. He doesn't know how to lie." Tony doesn't exactly fall into this category, but he is far closer to that personality type than to that of a con. His antics almost all have the outcome of disclosure as opposed to cover-up.

Which isn't to forget the other side of Gibbs' influence: as the ending of the episode suggests, Tony is also learning when it is best to keep one's own counsel.

I Am Now an Examiner!

I recently became an Examiner at Examiner.com. Examiner.com is a cross between About.com and a local news outlet (like Maine Today.com).

I am a Portland Cats Examiner. As far as I can tell, I am the only one currently posting though I suspect this will change. My approach is more advice-oriented than news-oriented, but I do include links to local businesses, etc.

My first article is "So, You Want to Get a Kitten." A related article "There's a New Kitten in the House: What to Do" will follow at the end of this week.

The Portland Cats' page has been added to Votaries's Related Links. Over the next few months, I will be posting about Emergency Services, toys, cat names, gross medical problems, etc. etc. etc. If you have any ideas or any particular topic you'd like to see addressed, I'm collecting as many as I can!

Recommendations (With Caveats)

1. The show Leverage with Timothy Hutton, Gina Bellman, Christian Kane, Beth Riesgraf, and the very funny Aldis Hodge.

My friend Carole introduced me to this show. She told me it was about cons and thieves. She didn't tell me it starred Timothy Hutton!

I've been a fan of Timothy Hutton since Nero Wolfe. As a teen, I did see him in Ordinary People (several times), but Nero Wolfe is what sold Hutton to me as an actor with a unique vibe.

The show, although being about cons and thieves, is really more like Quantum Leap or Highway to Heaven- meets-The Matrix. It is a feel-good show about fixing people's lives. It tends to focus on one story at a time which, of course, makes me very happy (I'm not a fan of serials). Also, the cons and thefts never hurt anyone but the people they are supposed to hurt; the gang never has to go too far. It is pure fantasy. And loads of fun. And the gang have a nice rapport.

2. The movie Invictus. See my review on the Mike-Kate Video Club.

3. My latest novella, Mr. B Speaks!

4. The latest Jane Eyre but don't spend too much money on it.

The fact is, Jane Eyre cannot be cut into a 2-hour film. It is impossible. By trying to leave in the relationship between Jane and St. John, the writers cut some very important minor events regarding Mr. Rochester's first wife. Without those minor events, the big "reveal" falls rather flat.

However, the Jane and Rochester make a nice addition to other film/television Janes and Rochesters. Zelah Clarke's Jane is practical and direct in response to Timothy Dalton's acerbic Rochester. Ruth Wilson's Jane is self-contained and watchful in response to Toby Stephen's worried Rochester. Mia Wasikowska is remote and ethereal in response to Michael Fassbender's pining Rochester. Together, they capture most aspects of Jane and Rochester! (Though not all.)

So the film is worth watching for its interesting interpretation of the main characters. However, as a hangs-together rendering of the story, it falls far short.

About Pamela , or, Prim & Proper is Coming Back

Like many Pride & Prejudice take-offs, including my own, my latest novella Mr. B Speaks! retells a classic story from the hero's, rather than the heroine's, point of view. Mr. B delivers his point of view in a trial which will determine whether or not he stays married to Pamela.

Despite the voice now being Mr. B's, Pamela still takes center stage. Her personality is all important. Is she, as Henry Fielding believed, an insincere, ladder-climbing tease or a frightened, young girl who just wants to go home?

It is easy, and tempting, for modern audiences to adopt Fielding's point of view because Pamela can, admittedly, sound too, too prim and proper. Personally, I think prim & proper is coming back, but Pamela (or, rather, Richardson speaking through Pamela) can get a tad officious.

However, Fielding wasn't reacting like a modern. His main problem with Pamela was her status as a servant (who "catches" the man of the house), not (necessarily) her "don't touch me don't touch me don't touch me" speechifying. In other words, Fielding perceived Pamela as a slutty lower class trollop tarting her way into places she shouldn't be.

My first order of business, therefore, was to decide how seriously to take Pamela. My view is that Pamela's uneasiness is justifiable. Her choices, as Mr. B, her seducer, acknowledges, are extremely narrow (all excerpts are from Mr. B Speaks!):

I knew that sending Pamela home was a death sentence. She would fade into one of those tired women who sit on their stoops, plaiting wool. She could hardly have arguments about classical literature with the local sheep herder.

To put it simply, Pamela can either be extremely poor (as a working peasant) or moderately less poor (as a servant). There's no community college for her to attend, no local organization to help her to better employment. She also can't just pick up and leave, a solution broached by the judge:

"If Pamela knew her, uh, virtue wasn’t safe, why didn’t she just leave?" Judge Hardcastle said.

The Committee for Literary Fairness clucked in collective reproach. "Blaming the woman—" Gary, the professor, began.

He was interrupted by Mr. B. "She would need a carriage to take her home."

"There wouldn’t have been any downtown buses," said Lonquist from Readers for Authorial Intent.

The judge scowled. "I realize that, but I gather people did walk places in the eighteenth century. Unlike today. No—?" in exasperation; Mr. B was shaking his head.

"It wouldn’t have been safe," Mr. B said. "A female peasant could possibly walk unmolested but not a girl in Pamela’s situation."

"Was the countryside so dangerous?" The judge was shaken. Eighteenth-century literature was proving more treacherous than his usual venue: twentieth-century 'Golden Age' mysteries.

"It was not un-dangerous, and Pamela was no longer a part of that environment. She couldn’t have moved through it without attracting notice."

As neither peasant nor servant, companion nor member of the gentry, Pamela has no place. This makes her waffling about her future understandable.

I also decided to take seriously Pamela's fears of losing her virginity. Practically speaking, in this period of history, losing one's virtue, for a woman, was much more like losing one's entire savings account than like losing a shoe on the side of the road. When Mr. B argues, "Pamela was more concerned with her virginity than her rights," an audience member replies:

"I doubt she saw a difference. Holding out for a decent marriage was more or less her purpose in life. Rape would have ruined her forever."

And even Mr. B later admits:

Right or wrong, fair or unfair, in our world, a woman’s wholesome reputation can smooth her path to a respectable and stable future, while a damaged reputation can block that path for a lifetime. I would become the villain of our story to ensure Pamela’s role as heroine.

And the truth is, sexual revolution or not, this issue still concerns women (who, through pregnancy, bear the greater risk in the area of sexual exploration). It is also, I believe, why Regency romances sell so well. The risk is admitted/made real. Female characters are given socially acceptable reasons (and infrastructure) to keep themselves non-pressured. Prim & proper are acknowledged as useful traits for a woman to espouse.

The one major difference between Pamela and most current romances is that most current romances (even historical ones) don't include the religious context. I don't blame the writers for this; religious context, unless one is a true believer, is difficult to write, and, even for a true believer, can so easily sound static and heavy-handed.

Richardson was a true believer, and I admittedly toned down much of Pamela's religious context (it is hard to imagine even a sincerely religious 15-year-old spouting off some of Richardson's arguments). The important point for me is that everything Pamela says and does comes from the absolute conviction that some things are right and some things are wrong, no matter what society has to say about them. This comes up when Mr. B confronts Pamela for telling another servant that he "molested" her (what constitutes "molestation" is discussed throughout the trial):

I stomped off to find Pamela scribbling in my mother’s dressing room. She folded the letter and tucked it in her dress. She didn’t say anything or curtsy, only watched me, remote and guarded.

"You’ve been spreading rumors about me," I said—true rumors but rumors nonetheless.

"I talk to hardly anyone."

"You little equivocator," I said. “What do you mean by hardly?” Mrs. Jervis, my housekeeper, was a great deal of very.

"Why should you care what I tell Mrs. Jervis—if you intend no harm?"

Pamela could be a barrister.

She continued: "I told her what happened in the summer-house because my heart was broken, but I told no one else."

"You wrote a letter, Pamela," I said.

"Did you take it?"

"I should let you expose me?"

"It isn’t exposure if I write the truth."

At that point, I realized I was exchanging extremely heated words with my mother’s companion in the middle of my mother’s dressing room.

"Insolence," I said. "Should I let a servant question me?"

Pamela retreated. It’s what she does when she panics. She becomes instantaneously demure.

"I don’t wish to lose my employment."

"How can you work for me unless you are willing to follow my commands?"

"Should I follow your commands at the expense of my principles?"

I rolled my eyes. "If that’s what you fear, I might as well give you real cause," I said and took her on my knee. She stilled, eyes slewing towards me.

"Be easy," I said. "Let the worst happen. You will have the merit, I the blame, and then you can write a very interesting letter."

Her lips curved into a half-smile. She stared hard at the parquet floor.

"Nobody blamed Lucretia," I pointed out and kissed her neck.

She lifted her chin to frown at me, and I kissed her lips.

"Should I kill myself like Lucretia did?"

Trust Pamela to start a literary argument in the middle of a seduction.

Like Elizabeth Bennet, like Jane Eyre, Pamela won't be overwhelmed (despite Mr. B's best efforts). She has to think her way through the problem, and she does this by sticking to her beliefs.

More about Pamela's character, specifically her acerbic side, will follow in a later post!

More Publications and Mr. B Outlets!

My short story "Requited" was recently published in Issue #51 of Andromeda Spaceways. This makes my third story published through Andromeda Spaceways which, in my view, is a fantastic magazine that tends to publish story-stories (granted, I'm biased) rather than literary blah.

Having said that, "Requited" is actually one of my more literary pieces. The premise is an alien culture where some members are slaves to others due to physiological/biological symbiosis (or parasitism, depending on one's point of view).

The issue of judgment--how can one culture judge another?--is raised, but the real issue is what we want from others in terms of communication, affection, approval, and gratitude.

Andromeda Spaceways does deliver to the United States, and it can be downloaded!

My novella Mr. B Speaks! from Peaks Island Press is now available from two distributors:

Amazon Kindle

Smashwords

Published: Mr. B Speaks!

My latest novella, Mr. B Speaks! has been published on Amazon Kindle by Peaks Island Press.

Mr. B Speaks! is a retelling of Samuel Richardson's Pamela from the hero (rather than the heroine's) point of view. It is also a satire/examination of literary theorizing. The official blurb follows:

Did Mr. B, the famously redeemed rake of English letters, romance his great love or abuse her? In a world where characters from novels can be tried in real courts for their literary crimes, Mr. B is forced to defend his controversial infatuation before an unsentimental judge.

Alternately attacked and defended by historians, psychologists, and literary critics, Mr. B wants only one thing--to be reunited with the woman who endured kidnappers, scheming siblings, and a slutty housekeeper all for the sake of her virtue and her marriage--Pamela.

Will love conquer all in the 21st century as it did in the 18th? Can a Georgian romance touch the heart in a postmodern world? Examine the testimony and decide for yourself!

In sum, the novella is a combination of Mr. B's viewpoint, me poking fun at literary over-theorizing, plus discussions about the eighteenth century, historical fiction, romances, and authorial intent.

Mucho mucho mucho gracias to my editor and publisher, Eugene Woodbury. The original version of this novel is in no way comparable to the final version. Eugene's high standards--which involved sending me back to basics (who is telling the story? what is the ultimate point?), then expanding on the story's possibilities--have been instrumental in producing this professional, and quite fun to write, novella.

Bellisario's Anomaly: JAG Compared to NCIS and Quantum Leap

Recently, in my ongoing need for more mystery shows (while I wait and wait and wait for Diagnosis Murder, Season 4 + to be released on DVD), I got out the first season of JAG from my local library.

It was a rather surreal experience; I'm not sure if I remembered the show differently or if it changed after Season 1. The season itself is standard action-drama fare. What makes it surreal is how different it is from Quantum Leap and NCIS, both Bellisario productions.

I have a fondness for Bellisario. The guy is all about telling a story, and he will go to just about any lengths to get the story told. But the first season of JAG is missing elements that made Quantum Leap a hoot-and-a holler and have made NCIS so remarkably successful.

1. The absence of domestic crime.

Quantum Leap is all about solving the personal crime. NCIS (despite the presence of a trillion terrorist episodes) is surprisingly domestically-minded. Episode solutions range from the friend who kills his friend for money to the neighbor who tries to kill her romantic rival. And even the terrorist episodes create personal relationships with the crew; Ari was one of the best TV villains ever.

The first season of JAG, on the other hand, is almost exclusively action-current-events oriented. Every other episode takes place in Bosnia. The ones in-between are taking place in Hong Kong, Cuba . . . Since I like my mysteries domestic, I tend to lose interest. (And there's only so many times Harm can fly a plane somewhere.)

2. The absence of Gibbs.

To be more precise, the absence of separate characters to represent chivalry, toughness, and roguishness.

In Quantum Leap, Al and Sam take on the separate roles of chivalry and roguishness while dividing the toughness. In NCIS, Gibbs is the tough guy with DiNozzo taking on Al's persona and McGee as the sweet, chivalric knight (I get to Ziva below).

In JAG, poor Harm has to be all things to all people. The women, at least in Season 1, aren't strong enough foils, so he has to be Gibbs, DiNozzo, and McGee all at the same time with an emphasis on the latter two. (Halfway through Season 1, the show does bring on the marvelous John M. Jackson to play the much-needed Gibbs-role.)

It isn't that all shows have to have these characters divided in this way, but Bellisario does. Hence, the rather incredible success of NCIS which, by dividing the roles into thirds (not just halves), allows for quick, balanced dialog. (Completely tangential side note: like his character, Michael Weatherly is something of a film aficionado. For truly interesting commentary, listen to him by himself; like Rob Morrow, he likes to talk about camera work, and it's pretty interesting stuff.)

3. The actors in JAG just aren't as good. At least in Season 1.

I do believe that actors can improve. David D. and Gillian A. (who are both extremely fine actors) improved after the first season of X-Files (Gillian A. really takes off in Season 3). Still, there's a radical difference between starting a show with Dean Stockwell and Mark Harmon and starting one with David James Elliott. All I can guess is that JAG was a tad expensive for the mid-90s (you want to use HOW MUCH footage of aircraft carriers?) and Bellisario had to wait until NCIS to get the starting cast (plus military venue) that he wanted.

4. The female characters are way more annoying in JAG, Season 1.

To give Bellisario credit, the guy likes his women smart, sassy, and sexy. Bellisario belongs to the John Wayne mentality of feminism . . . where men are real men and women are real women, and a little sexual harassment never hurt anyone. (One of the funniest scenes in NCIS is when the crew has to take sexual harassment training, and Abby gets upset because she wants to hug people at work.)

Unfortunately, JAG started when women in the military were first entering combat; consequently, Season 1 JAG women are SO shrill and SO combative and SO defensive about their rights. Think Ziva without the humor (and even Ziva improved in Season 4 when she started getting more in-depth/personality-oriented scripts).

In a way, Bellisario was using available material: Women in the military! Conflict! But it grates after about two episodes.

It is possible that the show improves with the arrival of Bell and Labyorteaux in Season 2. I don't remember Bell being quite so shrill, and Labyorteaux does supply a nice McGee foil. I'm planning to get Season 2 and make the comparison. I'm also hoping the crimes get more interesting. Give me the body in the library any day over International conflicts that I don't think a television episode can solve anyway. (And then give me my Diagnosis Murder!)