Customer Reviews

The Big Rewind: A Memoir Brought to You by Pop Culture

5 star:		(14)
4 star:		(13)
3 star:		(8)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

[A Vine Review - Thanks, Amazon!]

Nathan Rabin may be a first-time author, but I know him well from reading his A.V. Club articles and the enormous discussion threads they spawn. His discursive, caustic, and quite funny writing style has a gift for transforming a long and pointless afternoon into something longer and just as pointless, only far more entertaining.

As a critic of today, Rabin's the kind of guy who can break anything down into popular entertainment references, so it almost makes sense that when he decided to tell the story of his life, he organized it into chapters referencing famous books, records, and films.

His stay as a boy in a mental institution? He's reminded of the book "Girl, Interrupted" - and careful to point out, not the later film adaptation.

Various relationships with girls are prompted with chapters spotlighting Rabin's takes on Rod Stewart and Jean-Luc Godard. Living in a hippie co-op in Madison, Wisconsin prompts a reference to "Freaks", the Tod Browning cult film. "My fellow co-opers were the stuff of Lou Reed songs," he explains.

Movies became for Rabin a channel of expression and a shelter from the storm: "Movies afforded the rewards of human interaction with none of the terrifying hazards of actual human contact," he writes. Real life has teeth, and Rabin often felt its bite.

I've seen this done before with songs alone, which do lend themselves to this kind of subjective treatment. Movies don't, and Rabin struggles to find the same connecting strands that come more easily from a song like "Maggie May". When Rabin uses "Apocalypse Now" as a basis for comparing a mildly domineering authority figure in Rabin's life to the terrifyingly unhinged Col. Kurtz from the film, it's a sign he's really pushing for significance.

More problematically, not every episode he writes about is as interesting to us as it is to him. There's three chapters alone on Rabin's brief, unsuccessful attempt at being a movie critic on TV, something he writes about with the minute, gory precision of the Starr Report.

When something does click, though, it often clicks hard, like his meeting the woman who gave birth to him, then left him alone for 20 years. When he meets her again, he finds her utterly unconcerned about the emotional damage she has left, and nutty enough for Rabin to realize he's grateful to have escaped her notice.

"Every Mother's Day I'm struck with an urge to send Biological Mother a card but I've yet to find one with a message like 'To a Mother Who's Disappointed Me in Every Conceivable Way.'"

"The Big Rewind" is hardly a disappointment of that order. It's structurally deficient, yes, but otherwise often engaging enough to read through quickly and wonder, if this was another A.V. Club posting, what the discussion thread would look like.

What do El Pollo Loco, mental institutions, Siskel & Ebert, crazy moms in sweat pants, awesome music, long lists using commas instead of semicolons, and being Jewish have in common?

Nathan Rabin's The Big Rewind: A Memoir Brought to You by Pop Culture.

I should stop there, but I won't. I don't read a lot of autobiographies since they're usually stuffy "look at what an amazing person I turned out to be, one that you envy and now live vicariously through, since you just spent $30 to read about me" memoirs by people that I don't care about.

I don't care about Nathan Rabin, either -- actually, we're basically best friends now, just like Nathan and Topher Grace -- but this book made me laugh so hard a few times that I had to wipe tears from my cheeks. The guy's had an amazingly sad and entertaining life. He writes about it in a honest and humorously self-depreciating manner that makes it easy to relate to his life and his personal failures and accomplishments, but mostly his failures.

I enjoyed that he ties each chapter of his life (figuratively and literally) in with a song/album and/or a classic book or movie. Being the same age as the author, I found myself suddenly being sucked back to various parts of my youth and remembering exactly what it felt like to be alive when, for example, Nirvana was first blowing up and ending abruptly or watching MTV as NWA helped rap start to veer away from raps about gold chains and women to raps about guns, drugs, and women...and gold chains.

The honesty and bluntness of Nathan Rabin's autobiography impressed me incredibly. There were times when I blushed, because at points I felt like I was reading stories from my own embarrassing encounters with women and other social situations. Some of the things he decided to include about his personal life were both touching and largely a lot more information than I needed to know about a stranger; in a very sincere way it helped to make his story one that's easy to find solace in as a recovering geek/nerd/self-conscious person. I'm not sure if that's the result he wanted or not.

I honestly didn't want to put the book down, but sleep and various tasks involving the use of both my hands made that impossible. Buy it. Seriously.

I didn't know anything about Nathan Rabin prior to picking up this book, and although I enjoy The Onion, I hadn't read anything that he had written there. But I love pop-culture, and I nabbed this book up based on the words "The Onion" and "Pop-culture" from the book's description. That's how easily swayed I am.

Having finished this book, I can safely say that now I know oodles about Nathan Rabin. Most importantly: that Rabin is a witty, engaging and highly amusing story-teller (and that he rarely agrees with the Oscars). From the first page, this book had me hooked. Weaving a story from Rabin's turbulent youth, through the triumphant bonding with his father over Chipotle coupons and landing firmly in an Ebert and Roeper audition, (all tied up a with pop-culture touchstone bow) I couldn't put it down.

This book is dark, sarcastic and incredibly, intelligently funny. It is safe to say that anyone who enjoys The Onion, grew up with Nirvana or simply likes their humor dark, whether you know Nathan Rabin or not, will love this book.

The Big Rewind contains many interesting anecdotes, but I'm left wondering the point of it all. I would certainly recommend it to people who've enjoyed his pivotal role at The Onion with the A.V. Club, and I can write that now that I've been "introduced" to him, I'll watch his career with interest; however, I find myself unable to give the book more than 3 stars.

I find myself needing to explain in some coherent way my ambivalence. Mr. Rabin is intelligent, with a biting wit, and he tells of a complex and tragic childhood. I can only be glad he grew up to find success in a field and an arena that embraces his skills. Still, I don't know what this book is supposed to be.

I thought it as meant to be about how pop culture informs and bookmarks critical moments in our lives, but that aspect never takes center stage. It's there, but only slightly more so than you'd expect in any memoir. The chapters are introduced with references, there's a solid portion about how music was important to him while in a group home, but this was not to the level I would expect when told the book is "Brought to [me] By Pop Culture.(Ironically, I'll always associate this book with the day Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett died.)This is clearly written by a guy who is interested in popular culture, but that takes a back seat to the memoir. The cultural references are what I'd anticipated being the common ground that made me feel a connection with Mr. Rabin.

The writer is well-known in certain circles, but he doesn't have the level of celebrity where the point of telling about his life is to illuminate the life of someone very famous. While his childhood is movingly discussed, there's nothing there that indicates shining light on the foster or mental health systems is his goal.

Rabin cites Girl, Interrupted as a well-loved book, because Kaysen maintains that sometimes there is no real point to being locked up, but Kaysen was an adult, and Rabin was a child during his experiences. What might not be a shaping experience for her would clearly affect a teen who was in the system for years. Yet he doesn't really seem to fully explore what it means to him that as a child adults failed him repeatedly. Other than movies and music being lifelines, how did this shape the man he became?

A lot of the book is dedicated to AMC's Movie Club with John Ridley -- a review show he regularly appeared on -- and his issues with another reviewer. I'm pretty sure I'd never seen the show, so this was really long for me. I'm sure it would play better if the reader was more familiar with the show, and definitely something people reading this should keep in mind.

I don't think anyone can read his story and not like the author, but I'm not sure that completely justifies this book. Not yet. I suppose that as a memoir of a man with a troubled childhood who made good, it's at least ten years too early. I say this as someone who thinks from this meeting with him that he still has a lot that he's destined to achieve.

I'd love to see another effort from the author that involved more in depth analysis of the stuff he knows so well -- the books, shows, and movies that forms a connecting thread between people who are fans of the art around us. I'd also read a novel by him in a red hot second.

I give this 3 stars from the perspective of someone who expected more pop culture based on the title, would have accepted it if it had been a more fully realized story of the effects of a troubled childhood, but who still walked away impressed by the author. For people who come to this book as current fans, I'd imagine they would easily bump it up a star.

The writer says that great art makes the personal universal. I agree. I believe Mr. Rabin is capable of great art, but I think that's still to come.

"Hopelessness is your friend." Words do not ring more true. Such hard-won, pessimistic wisdom as this is a bountiful element of Nathan Rabin's remarkable memoir The Big Rewind: A Memoir Brought to You by Pop Culture. His first book, Rabin recounts his fascinating life story that seesaws between the lows his lifelong battle with depression took him to (a brief imprisonment in a television-less mental institution at fourteen and some rather rough years spent in the college town of Madison, Wisconsin) and the exhilarating yet impermanent highs literally brought to him by pop culture (his popular work at The Onion's AV Club and the quasi-decadence of following in Ebert's footsteps as a film critic on a little-seen movie-review panel show for AMC).

Rabin learned early in his adolescence that looking ahead, hoping, optimism - these were things not meant for him because they could only lead to disappointment; it's far easier to win big when anything good in life comes as a pleasant surprise. After all, his coined sign-off for Newswires on the AV Club website is advising readers to be "cautiously optimistic." But for someone whom luck seems to have avoided like the plague at times, Rabin has had the pleasure of luck ferociously attacking him as well. Despite his traumatic and unconventional upbringing he has entered adulthood a well-adjusted man, perhaps due in large part to guidance coming at the right time from the right people. Or perhaps due to his own determination to come out on the other side of the fight as the winner, for a fight is what much of his life seems to have been. Rabin's strength is evident in his writing: he's been knocked down, but never knocked out.

In a perfect world, parents wouldn't have crippling illnesses or abandon their children, and group homes wouldn`t be necessary; bullies would not exist as people would never be insensitive, hurtful or vicious to others; we wouldn't fall victim to our own debilitating demons such as depression; and above all, unfortunate circumstances beyond our control would be unheard of. Instead, with his signature sharp humor and a loving embrace of pop culture, Rabin's memoir reveals how he maneuvered himself through this imperfect world using his "personal pantheon" as our guide. Each chapter's tone is set by a movie, book, song, or pop culture figure personally significant to Rabin and his story. It may seem reductionist to some to boil down his story to an assortment of pop culture artifacts - some more loosely associated to his story than others - but then you would miss his message. And indeed, who are we to judge the relevance of his association with these pop culture selections? Their import in this context are relevant to him and him alone.

In many ways pop culture saved him and it seems only fitting for him to relate his story through the prism of pop culture. At 33, Rabin has a lot of life left to live. We are "cautiously optimistic" that any future sequel to his memoir will tell a much happier tale of fortune and glory.

Additional Notes: It should be pointed out that the above Washington Post review incorrectly interprets Rabin's "head writer" role at the AV Club and falsely paints the publication as the "brainchild" of Rabin when in fact it was created by former editor Stephen Thompson. Rabin is not an editor and does not have creative control over the content of the publication, except what he publishes himself in features. Also, his "My Year of Flops" column with the AV Club is proof enough that he has an undying love for pop culture. The Washington Post review is very much so off the mark to believe Rabin, or anyone else at AV Club for that matter, hates pop culture.

Legends have circulated for centuries about the magical powers that Nathan Rabin's The Big Rewind holds. Some say that it can open a portal to Hell, while others claim that it can raise the dead, with still others believing that it can summon vampire spirits from another dimension. I was of course skeptical. But still, it's not every day that one gets the opportunity to hold a mystical tome rumored to have magical powers in their hands. So I rushed out to my local bookseller to grab a copy of The Big Rewind. When I arrived home I immediately dashed into my bathroom (the only room in my humble apartment that has a mirror). I locked the door, lit a couple scented candles and turned off the light. I opened the book and began reading. I was captivated by Rabin's razor-sharp wit and fascinating life's story, all recounted through the prism of a deep appreciation for pop culture, both "high" and "low." The book's 300-plus pages flew by at lightning-speed and I admit I almost forgot the mysterious events that may have been following. As I intoned the final word of the book, I was overwhelmed by a sense I was no longer alone. I began to hear a strange, sinister whisper, accompanied by what I can only describe as a rhythmic chanting. My bathroom grew very cold and the scented candles were snuffed out. I dropped to my knees as the chanting grew louder - "Oh God!" I cried out, "Please save me from these demonic spirits I have summoned!" But it was to no avail. My body began to thrash about wildly, outside my conscious control. I started coughing up strange fluids that were unidentifiable in the dark. Then, my head banged up against one of the sharp corners in my bathroom, mercifully sending me into unconsciousness. When I awoke there was blood all over the walls and I had soiled myself. I'll probably never know for sure what happened after I went out, but I know it must have been something unspeakably evil. So please, heed the rumors about The Big Rewind, even if they seem too unbelievable to be true. I wish that I had.

Who is Nathan Rabin and why should you care about reading his memoir?

Great question.

Nathan is a film critic who writes for THE ONION'S AV CLUB He was also one of the film critics on the short lived AMC movie review show THE MOVIE CLUB WITH JOHN RIDLEY.

THE BIG REWIND is divided into chapters, each beginning with some pop culture item, a book, a movie, or song, and then jumping into a related anecdote. He is sort of a movie obsessed Chuck Klosterman, only with a much darker life.

Nathan was abandoned by his mother early on, and lived with his father, who was diagnosed with MS. Nathan was even sent to a mental institution briefly, only leaving when his father's insurance ran out.

After his father was unable to care for him, he was sent to live in a group home. Even more terrifying than the group home were his years living in a clothing optional, drug filled co-op in the 90's.

Klosterman just had to live in the middle of nowhere without MTV. Nathan really had it rough!

Through it all, Nathan is a terrific writer.

There is also a very funny segment on his "Frank Grimes". If you get that reference (and I did), you will love this book.

Even if you have no idea who he is, this is a great read.

Nathan Rabin may not be a household name yet, or ever, but this book's a (mostly) compelling read anyone. He's a certified smartass, and his humor propels things along beautifully. And what a story to tell. Horatio Alger would be green with envy, if he weren't dead and gray. As you probably already know from reading the book summary (and other reviews) Rabin went through hell as an adolescent. Literally. Ok, not literally, but almost.

Rabin opens every chapter with some reference to pop culture and what it had to do with his life. This works better sometimes than others; there are definitely chapters where it feels like he was searching for the reference well after the chapter was writ, and stuck something in to make his editors stop crying. Every now and then he gives in to the almost unavoidable self-indulgence of memoir-writing; we don't really need to hear about his high school volleyball tournament and I could've handled about twenty fewer pages about the college house he stayed in.

So it's longer than it needs to be. Editing one's life into interesting tidbits must be tough work. Give him a break. It's funny, and sad, and mean, and funny, and um...did I say funny? Yeah. Nabin's, like, totally a way better writer than I. Me. Whatever.

For a memoir based around pop culture, one would expect a fair degree of scenes to translate cinematically. With "The Big Rewind" I found myself repeatedly thinking, "Wow, this would make an excellent movie." Rabin's ability to turn an event that is completely terrible into a laugh riot is a testament to his intimate knowledge of dark comedy. Whether it's his trip though a mental hospital, his (longer than expected) stint in a group home, or his various relationships, nothing is out of bounds for Rabin. He draws the reader into a world that one thinks only exists in fiction using the only universal language - pop culture. This is a breezy read that you won't be able to put down. I can only hope Dr. Dre's follow up "Flat, Warm, Crawlspace Vermouth" is as enjoyable.

Nathan Rabin can't seem to decide whether he wants to be David Sedaris or David Denby. He's trying to be a little of both here, and it's not working out all that well.

The book is essentially a memoir of Rubin's dysfunctional childhood and youth, but it's structured as a series of loosely connected essays. The pop culture hooks in each chapter feel like afterthoughts. The first two chapters are nearly unreadable, and a lot of the humor -- in the form of over-the-top sarcasm -- falls flat.

Rubin begins to hit his stride in the middle of the book, which is why it rates three stars rather than two. The writing gets better and the chapter flow improves. But he's still no David Sedaris. Maybe I'm just too far outside the target demographic for this book, but I think there are better memoirs of tortured adolescence out there.