And now for something completely different from Easy Rawlins’ prolific creator (Cinnamon Kiss, 2005, etc.), who’s branching out into still another genre.
Cordell Carmel, a middle-aged New York translator everybody calls “L,” decides one afternoon on his way to a conference to wait a few hours for a first-class train to Philadelphia. Heading over to girlfriend Joelle Petty’s apartment, he finds her sharing a frantic embrace with Johnny Fry, a white man who’d like to switch from being a personal trainer to playing classical guitar. Instead of calling attention to himself, L leaves quietly (though he does turn back briefly when he thinks Jo is crying out in pain) and proceeds to pull down the edifice of his carefully constructed life. He smashes his hand against a brick wall, orders a high-fat meal, buys an expensive bottle of cognac and takes home a porn video, The Myth of Sisypha, that puts him in touch with his appetite for passion and pain. The next day, after missing the conference and infuriating his agent, L begins to grab every chance at a new life. He reinvents himself as an agent for photographer Lucy Carmichael, flirts with female acquaintances and takes three of them to bed, then returns to Jo bent on getting some of the kind of wild, crazy sex she’s been enjoying with Johnny. But it’s The Myth of Sisypha that has the most profound impact on L, and when he has a chance to meet the video’s star and embark on a series of scenarios that cross the line from NC-17 to XXX, his obsessions with getting off and killing Johnny are joined by another kind of desire as tender as it is unlikely.
An interesting look at a male in midlife crisis. As L says, “I had come alive. And life hurt.”