Bright Lights, Big City

Bright Lights, Big City is a novella by Jay McInerney, the first of the "cocaine culture" novels, about yuppies involved with the drug culture, trying to find their way in society. I was initially very disconcerted by the book being written in the second person (I can't think of another book like that), but eventually I got over that and started to enjoy it, and I actually liked it, and the main character, more than Bret Easton Ellis's works. Of course, he's a dick, completely self-absorbed, self-destructive, but I just felt like he was so close to figuring out what he needed to do to turn his life around, and the writing style was hilarious. Full of clever bits of philosophical references, a ferret, a bald chick, and sarcasm, I enjoyed it immensely.

I then moved the movie to the top of my queue, and I have to say that Michael J. Fox wasn't at all what I pictured for the unnamed narrator (cleverly named Jamie Conway in the movie), nor Phoebe Cates as Amanda, the model, but Swoozie Kurtz was just what I pictured, and Kiefer Sutherland was also just right. Then again, apparently, Tom Cruise was up for the role, but he would have been even worse. The movie fits in most of the main plot points (even the coma baby in a freaky scene), but cuts them slightly short, and plays the ferret for slapstick more than the novel. Plus, an early David Hyde Pierce performance, as a bartender. But the music was mainly terrible 80s crap (except for True Faith), and the DVD was fullscreen. What the hell?