STONE READER
Directed by: Mark Moskowitz.
Produced by: Robert M. Goodman & Mark Moskowitz.
Written by: Mark Moskowitz.
Director of Photography: Joseph Vandergast (with Jeff Confer & Mark Moskowitz).
Edited by: Mark Moskowitz & Kathleen Souilliere.
Music by: Michael Mandrell.
Released by: New Yorker Films.
Country of Origin: USA. 128 min. Rated: PG-13.
With: Frank Conroy, Leslie Fiedler, Robert Gottlieb, Mark Moskowitz & Dow Mossman.

DVD Special Features
Disc One: Commentary by director Mark Moskowitz and writer Dow Mossman. Book lists. Web resources.
Disc Two: Writers panel. Betty Kelly interview. Leslie Fiedler: More from the Stone Reader. Leslie Fiedler: From Firing Line. A.S. Byatt with Toni Morrison. Further conversations. Deleted scenes. Henry Roth: Connections Across Time. Janet Maslin with Mark Moskowitz. Featurette on what happened next. Roger Ebert's Overlooked Film Festival. Two Easter eggs. Photo gallery. Theatrical trailers.

Stone Reader is a rather subjective and extremely personal depiction of the search for how and why reading holds such great significance for, and influence on, so many people. Mark Moskowitz, having been convinced as a college student in 1972 by a rave New York Times book review to read Dow Mossman’s novel, The Stones of Summer, was not able to get through it then. He did not get back to it again until 25 years later, at which time he thought it was a phenomenal work. Looking for other books by Mossman, Moskowitz was mystified to discover that the author never had anything published again, and had virtually disappeared off the face of the earth. The film goes on to document Moskowitz’s adventures as he attempts to solve the mystery of Mossman’s fate, and to ultimately track him down.

Moskowitz finds himself in discussions with such literary giants as critic Leslie Fiedler and Catch-22 editor Robert Gottlieb. Fiedler suggests that authors have to fall in love with writing, and with discovering themselves, in order to do what they do – to which one could add that some part of the reader must do so as well. Perhaps, though, author Frank Conroy sums it up best when he intones, regarding reading: “You feel the pressure of another human soul on the other side of the book. And that makes you feel less alone, and less trapped in your body. And less isolated…It’s almost spiritual.” Indeed it is. And as the camera pans across shelves of books, viewers might start looking out for their favorites, such as a stray Aldous Huxley or Kurt Vonnegut, and in this way feel that the film has captured readers’ ability to recognize some of themselves in another person who has read the same books.

Fittingly, that is the film’s most salient trait: the manner in which it communicates the near-communal quality of reading, with storytelling emerging - since the age of hieroglyphics, as its title also alludes to - as one of the most resonant human needs. Through it all, Moskowitz’s sly sense of humor comes through. The film’s vistas of the Maine and Iowa landscapes stand out, along with the evocative music. However, one feels the movie’s structure is flawed: at one point, it becomes clear that Moskowitz is postponing a crucial development for maximum suspenseful impact, a move that is too obviously contrived. Some scenes featuring Moskowitz’s children try too hard to make the connection between books and their effects during childhood more explicit – a link that has by then been established. Finally, the viewer might feel as if there should be more about the novel itself - a Midwestern coming-of-age epic - since the movie ends up being more about Moskowitz than Mossman or his book. Regardless, what happened to Mossman is a riveting story in itself.

DVD Extras: Most interesting for literary aficionados is a 1974 episode of Firing Line in which William F. Buckley and interviewee Fiedler seem to be attempting to outdo each other’s pretentiousness, with Fiedler hilariously making hand gestures that at one point result in a seemingly oblivious giving of the finger to one of his questioners. Book fans will also enjoy the Henry Roth segment, which compares the experiences of the similarly forgotten author of Call It Sleep with Mossman’s. The interview with Betty Kelly, one of the original editors of Mossman’s novel, emphasizes how much people were rooting for him to write another book. A funny anecdote is found on the “What Happened Next” featurette in which another fan of the book relates his frantic mission to bid for it online. The list of book recommendations and the literary web resources will also be appreciated by the book connoisseur.

The piece de resistance, however, is an Easter egg found among the extras, a short skit in which William Faulkner is asked permission by (what appears to be) a bad actor playing a reporter to write a story on Faulkner’s everyday life.

One minor gripe: the segment in which Moskowitz talks to Janet Maslin, claiming that everything in the film occurred as it happened, does not ring true, given the way the movie plays out and some obvious facts to the contrary that Moskowitz states right after his initial proclamation, something which Maslin lets him get away with too easily. A short film, “First Story,” directed by Cindy Stillwell, is puzzling, since it consists entirely of footage of rodeos and trains, and is shown without any explanation.

As for the audio commentary, it is a treat to hear Mossman and Moskowitz get along so well. One gets the feeling that Mossman is as genuinely grateful as he says he is, and it is, admittedly, a kick to hear a writer appreciate other writers so blatantly. Furthermore, it is fun to hear Mossman, in his folksy way, marvel at why paperback bindings are so easily broken in the industrial power that is the United States, as well as slightly criticize Moskowitz’s film, at one point calling his technique “schizoid.” Reymond Levy
March 16, 2004