Welcome To Yesterday
by Ian Spiegelman
Miramax
Despite the age-old adage, talk isn’t cheap, never has been, especially in New York, where what you do can just as quickly be undone by what you say. Or, worse, by what others say about you. When what is said then makes it into print, the effect can be downright downfalling.
Such is the chatter behind Ian Spiegelman’s fast-talking Welcome to Yesterday. People get undone by what is said in black-and -white.
In this case, the undone is a down-spiraled almost-uber agent named Kyle Prince. The local gossip sheet’s run an item that says Prince has once again fallen off that star wagon of his; in response Kyle takes his own life.
Or does he?
Written from the whip-smart angle of a drink-addled talk-chaser named Leon Koch, Spiegelman’s Welcome… plays it equal parts Lost Weekend and Sweet Smell of Success, with a tacit touch of Mametry tossed in to make it moderne. Welcome To Yesterday is a torrid tale, all the more potent for its utter truths, and it puts talk in its disrightful place in the pantheon of pulp pop – where all is shady, shadowy, and infinitely juicy.
