Unless you live under a proverbial rock, you’ll know that journalist/author/dandy Tom Wolfe died on May 14 at the ripe age of 88. I won’t rehash his impact on American arts and letters — there’s been plenty of ink spilled for just that purpose the last week or so, including this obit in the “failing” and now “crooked” The New York Times.
It’s doubtful that many of you will recognize the name Anne V. Coates. Such is the lot of a film editor, unknown to all but a handful of film geeks as he or she toils in the shadows of an editing suite, sweating over hundreds of thousands of feet of film (or nowadays, digital image capture), shaping it one cut at a time into something resembling a tightly paced, coherent narrative.
Believe it or not, if you look past all the zombie nonsense they keep churning out well past its sell-by date, the American basic cable channel AMC has become the gold standard for multi-part adaptations of dense, complicated books.
This first occurred to me in 2016 when the channel aired The Night Manager, an adaptation of John le Carré’s 1993 best-seller. Not only did the program boast fine direction,