Spring feels like an ideal time to get tangled up in a mystery, as the snow melts away to uncover what was buried in the fall.
There’s something seductive about cozying up with a spellbinding tale that requires the reader’s rapt attention as the characters become entangled in a web of lies.
Often the best of these tales are adapted into films; it’s often disappointing to see details lost in translation in the leap from print to picture.
One notable exception is the work of author Patricia Highsmith, famous for the psychological thrillers she wrote mainly in the 1940s and 1950s.
I’ve yet to be disappointed by any of the big screen versions of her tales.
‘Deep Water’
A new one, “Deep Water,” was released on Hulu this past March. Watching the tales she crafted unfold on the screen, viewers will likely find Highsmith’s brand of suspense magnified and her characters rendered more empathetic. Dangerous games are played where the quickest hand wins, and characters are forced to consider how much they’ll compromise to have the stars align in their favor.
‘The Talented
Mr. Ripley’
Directed by Anthony Minghella, “The Talented Mr. Ripley” from 1999 is, I believe, an underrated masterpiece from start to finish. Like countless stories of suspense, “Ripley” opens on a voiceover narrating the titular character’s remorse for his mistakes. For Tom Ripley, it starts with a borrowed jacket.
The affluent Greenleafs spot Tom wearing a Princeton jacket during a concert and presume that he knows their son Dickie, a recent Princeton graduate. Rather than admit the truth, Tom plays along. The opening credits are still rolling when Mr. Greenleaf persuades Tom to go find Dickie in Italy and persuade him to come home.
After meticulous preparations for the journey (including listening to Dickie’s favorite music), Tom arrives in the fictional town of Mongibello, where Dickie’s been living an American playboy’s life in Europe. An intense friendship sparks as Tom is invited into Dickie’s dazzling world of connections, wealth and freedom.
Yet while Ripley declares them “brothers,” it’s not long before Dickie grows weary of Tom’s constant presence and makes it clear it’s time to move on. One ghastly moment of rage, and Tom finds a new use for his ability to impersonate “practically anybody” as he assumes Dickie’s identity.
The film features an all-star cast that exemplifies Highsmith’s story under the care of an accomplished director. From the breathtaking view of Italy as it might have looked in the 1950s to the soundtrack that magnifies the story’s twists and turns, this film is a favorite at my house. With every viewing, I’m tempted to tally Ripley’s lies, all the while knowing I’d lose count halfway through the film.
‘Strangers
on a Train’
While “Ripley” focuses on mistaken identities, “Strangers on a Train” (1951) is centered on mistaken intentions.
Adapted from Highsmith’s 1950 novel of the same name, director Alfred Hitchcock’s highly acclaimed film opens with tennis star Guy Haines riding the train, intent on finalizing his divorce. He strikes up a conversation with a stranger, Bruno Anthony, who’s taken an interest in Guy’s situation and offers a solution that might benefit them both.
Having fantasized methods for committing the perfect murder, Bruno suggests the idea of strangers exchanging murders — in their case, Bruno would kill Guy’s unfaithful ex-wife while Guy would kill Bruno’s overbearing father. Guy evaluates Bruno’s idea with amusement before disembarking the train, not knowing Bruno’s mistakenly taken his listening as agreement.
Visiting Guy at his girlfriend’s home, Bruno reveals he’s carried out his end of their exchange, much to Guy’s horror. Insisting they planned the exchange on the train, Bruno implies it’s Guy’s turn to follow through, lest he risk the possibility of being arrested for murder.
Like many of Hitchcock’s films, “Strangers on a Train” kept my eyes locked on the screen and, in anticipation of the darkness ahead, distrustful of any lighthearted moments.
The suspense of tracking Bruno’s whereabouts is enough to send a shiver down a viewer’s spine, and Hitchcock knows how to play with our unease.
WASSAIC — Shelea Lynn “Shalay” Hurley, 51, a longtime area resident, died peacefully on Tuesday, Jan. 7, 2025, at Vassar Brothers Medical Center in Poughkeepsie, following a lengthy illness. Her husband, Michael, was at her bedside when Shalay was called home to be with God.
Born April 19, 1973, in Poughkeepsie, she was the daughter of the late Roy Cullen, Sr. and Joann (Miles) Antoniadis of Amsterdam, New York. Shalay was a graduate of Poughkeepsie High School class of 1991. On July 21, 2018 in Dover Plains, New York she married Michael P. Hurley. Michael survives at home in Wassaic.
Shalay was a beautiful soul who would do anything for anyone. She enjoyed crafting, making wreaths, spending time with her husband Michael and playing with their dog Autumn. Shalay was a longtime member of Faith Bible Chapel of Shekomeko in Millerton, where she made many friends over the years.
In addition to her husband Michael, her mother Joann (Nick) and her dog Autumn, Shalay is survived by three children, Rebekah Antoniadis, Brittany Holton (Tyler) and Jimmy Antoniadis; three brothers, Thomas Cullen, Roy Cullen, Jr. and Shaun Cullen; four grandchildren, Ioannia, Adaline, Aubrey and Chandler and several aunts and uncles and many friends. In addition to her father, Roy Sr., Shalay was predeceased by her daughter, Savannah, her foster parents, Mr. & Mrs. Murphy, her grandparents, several uncles and her dear in-laws, James and Shirley Hurley.
Calling hours will take place on Saturday, Jan. 11, 2025, from 10 a.m. to 12.p.m. at the Scott D. Conklin Funeral Home, 37 Park Avenue, Millerton, NY. A funeral service will be held at 12 p.m. at the funeral home. Pastor William Mayhew will officiate. A private burial will take place at Amenia Island Cemetery in Amenia, NY at a later date. Memorial contributions may be made to the American Kidney Fund, 900 Walt Whitman Road, Suite 304, Melville, NY 11747. To send an online condolence to the family, flowers to the service or to plant a tree in Shalay’s memory, please visit www.conklinfuneralhome.com
Seth Rogovoy at the screening of “A Complete Unknown” at The Triplex.
When Seth Rogovoy, acclaimed author, critic, and cultural commentator of “The Rogovoy Report” on WAMC Northeast Public Radio, was asked to lead a talkback at The Triplex in Great Barrington following a screening of the Bob Dylan biopic “A Complete Unknown,” he took on the task with a thoughtful and measured approach.
“I really try to foster a conversation and keep my opinions about the film to myself,” said Rogovoy before the event on Sunday, Jan. 5. “I want to let people talk about how they felt about it and then I ask follow-up questions, or people ask me questions. I don’t reveal a lot about my feelings until the end.”
The film, directed by James Mangold and starring Timothée Chalamet as Bob Dylan, portrays young Dylan’s arrival in Greenwich Village during the early 1960s. The film depicts his interactions with key figures like Woody Guthrie, Pete Seeger, Joan Baez, and Suze Rotolo (called Sylvie Russo in the film), while also exploring Dylan’s evolution from performing traditional folk songs to writing his own, including iconic tracks like “Blowin’ in the Wind.” The narrative touches on his struggles with fame, identity, and the pressure to conform, culminating in his controversial electric performance at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival.
“I went into seeing the film with an open mind,” said Rogovoy, “recognizing that this film is not for me. It’s not for ‘Dylanologists,’ for experts. It’s a Hollywood film. I don’t think it does harm, but I think it doesn’t do a lot of what it could have done.”
The film presents a sentimental narrative with many historical inaccuracies. “According to Elijah Wald, whose book the film is based on, he said he likes the film but that it’s entirely fictional,” said Rogovoy.
The talkback itself was lively, with audience members sharing their thoughts on the film’s nostalgic appeal and its historical inaccuracies. Several attendees mentioned how the film helped them relive the cultural transformation of the era.
“It brings to mind the first time I heard that music, and the change it had on our culture,” shared one audience member.
Another attendee, who was just a baby during the time period depicted in the film, said, “I loved how much of his music they did play. It wasn’t just one verse and then cut away. I really got a renewed appreciation for his genius. I’m going full Dylan when I get home.”
While Rogovoy’s approach during the talkback was to facilitate discussion, audience members were eager to hear his analysis. His 2009 book, “Bob Dylan: Prophet Mystic Poet” explores Dyan’s connection to Jewish liturgy. In contrast to “A Complete Unknown,” Rogovoy offered a reminder of “I’m Not There,” the 2007 experimental musical drama co-written and directed by Todd Haynes where six actors portrayed different facets of Dylan’s persona. He described the film’s nonlinear narrative as offering what he called “a Dylanesque portrayal” of the artist, capturing more of the complexity of Dylan’s identity. Rogovoy characterized Chalamet’s portrayal as “one note.”
“And how do we know about the essence of Bob Dylan at that time?” asked Rogovoy. “Well, because there are a number of documentary films with footage of that time, which I’m sure that they (the filmmakers and cast) all viewed again and again. My understanding of Chalamet’s preparation was that he really immersed himself in everything to be a credible Bob Dylan. But in the end, I just found him to be entirely monochromatic.”
The screening and talkback provided a nuanced platform for discussing “A Complete Unknown”—a film that, while not without flaws, ignited a conversation about Bob Dylan’s influence and his enigmatic role in shaping American music and culture.
The author planted this Yellowwood tree a few years ago on some of his open space.
As an inveterate collector of all possibly winter hardy East coast native shrubs and trees, I take a rather expansive view of the term “native”; anything goes as long as it grows along the East coast. After I killed those impenetrable thickets of Asiatic invasive shrubs and vines which surrounded our property, I suddenly found myself with plenty of open planting space.
That’s when, a few years ago, I also planted a Yellowwood tree, (Cladastris kentukea). It is a rare, medium-sized tree in the legume family—spectacular when in bloom and golden yellow in fall. In the wild, it has a very disjointed distribution in southeastern states, yet a large specimen, obviously once part of a long-gone garden, has now become part of the woods bordering Route 4 on its highest point between Sharon and Cornwall.
It has always intrigued me that so many species, whose native ranges today are much further south, grow so well here. Besides Yellowwood, that includes, for example, the Bald Cypress (Taxodium distichum) of southern swamps whose natural range reaches into southern New Jersey. However, it also grows in Litchfield hills gardens and, incongruously, even as a street tree in New York. Among others are PawPaw (Asimia triloba), Carolina silverbell (Halesia carolina), American snowbell (Styrax americanus), Redbud (Cercis canadensis), and Sourwood (Oxydendron arboreum), a good-sized tree with white flowering racemes and outstanding brilliant, deep red fall foliage. Besides our local swamp and Pinxter azaleas, others that are very hardy here include the early-flowering Pinkshell azalea (Rhododendron vaseyi) of the North Carolina mountains and from the mountains of Georgia, the rare-in-the-wild, July-flowering Plumleaf azalea, (R. prunifolium). Robust and larger in habit and most stunning of all is the Flame azalea (R. calendulaceum), which historically grew as far north as southeast New York, where it is now extirpated.
After some research, I learned that Cladastris kentukea might have grown over a much wider and more northern area, but during the last glaciation episode, it survived in the wild only in those isolated southern locations. That it survived at all so close to the glaciers edge is in itself an indication of cold hardiness. It is estimated, based on fossil plant and pollen records, that with the retreat of the icecap around 16,000 years ago, trees migrated again northward at a rate of approximately 50 km per century. This may apply to prolific sprouters such as maples, ashes and oaks, but it could be much slower, I suspect, for the many rarer plants which don’t get around by wind, squirrels, and birds, or are—unlike our common trees—finnicky to sprout from seeds. I can also imagine how many of the rarer trees and shrubs, for example Fringetree (Chionanthus virginicus), became collateral damage during the 19th century clearcutting for charcoal and farming. In any case, Yellowwood didn’t manage to recolonize its former range, and a similar scenario may apply to those other woody plants with a more southerly distribution today but that are perfectly hardy up here.
Climate change, which used to occur over millennia, now seems to happen within half a century. Birds, like the Carolina wren, can adapt quickly and become abundant after just a few warm winters—but plants are stuck. They need help to keep up with such rapid change. In the case of trees and shrubs, human gardeners can assist them in expanding their ranges into areas that are now warm enough for them to live thrive again.
I bought a sapling Water tupelo (Nyssa aquatica), native to southern swamps, from a Missouri nursery. It has survived two winters so far—albeit quite mild ones—in a woody swamp here at 1100ft elevation. One hundred years from now, who knows—ugar maples, which thrive in cold, snowy winters, might be replaced with sweetgum (Liquidambar styraciflua), a more southern hardwood.
I found space for trees by clearing thickets of invasives. The modern trend of transforming excessively large lawns into natural meadows also provides an opportunity to plant native trees with an understory of shrubs and ferns, whether as a stand-alone copse or a forest edge. This is not meant to replace flowers and grasses but to complement them, based on the understanding that, in our region, the primary ecosystem is forest—an exceptionally species-rich one to boot, with over a half dozen oaks alone.
Compared to watching grass grow, watching a tree—any tree—grow is almost exciting, given a bit of patience. Early on, protection against deer is necessary, but later, maintenance is relatively minimal; the leaves can simply fall and stay where they may.
Fritz Mueller lives in Sharon.
