The Reading List has been, with a few breaks, going for 32 weeks now, a total of 110 masterpieces commended to the attention of this magazine’s audience. That is eight more than the 102 Great Books commended to the attention of the literate by those two University of Chicago listing maniacs, Robert Maynard Hutchins and Mortimer Adler. The Reading List discovered last week, to its horror, that it had begun mentioning works previously recommended, which is doubtless necessary, as its effort to keep the focus largely on the best that has been thought and said leaves relatively little room to maneuver. We would fear beginning to dip into types like Hemingway or Steinbeck — those considered valuable or invalu able in their own recent lifetimes but now reduced to their actual, deeply minor stature. (Note to the late E Scott Fitzgerald: Looks like you’re going to make it, and Ernie isn’t!)
So, in an effort to offer a little more variety, and to avoid scraping the bottom of the literary barrel, the Reading List will turn over this space on a rotating basis to the Rental List. The Rental List will offer you little- known but worthwhile titles to look for in your local video store. The Rental List avoids the obvious, seeking obscurity instead. This week, three films about one of the Rental List’s favorite subjects, rich people:
Just Tell Me What You Want, starring Alan King and All McGraw, 1981. This admittedly foul-mouthed comedy about a tycoon and his disenchanted mistress is one of the best-written American movies and survives even McGraw’s awful performance. Jay Presson Allen’s screenplay manages to wring humor even out of cremation.
Easy Living, starring Jean Arthur, 1937. A sable coat falls from a Fifth Avenue apartment onto the head of a working girl, who finds herself thrust into high society. Another great screenplay, this one by Preston Sturges, features one of the most hilarious scenes in screwball comedy: a food fight at the Automat.
White Mischief, starring Joss Ackland, 1987. The true story of a murder in colonial Kenya, circa 1940. Rarely has wealthy indolence ever gotten such a cool-eyed treatment, as when Sarah Miles looks out upon a pristine morning and moans, “Another f — g beautiful day.”
