Last night, I attended a screening at Lincoln Center of Dreams with Sharp Teeth, the new documentary on writer Harlan Ellison. Ellison and the film’s director, Erik Nelson, were on hand after the show for a short Q&A. (Longer on A than Q, in typical, cantankerous Ellison fashion.) The film is a great and often very funny portrait of Ellison as man and writer, flaws and all; and while it may not win him a legion of new fans — the work itself will have to serve to do that — it absolutely left me wanting to re-read some of his stories.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get home until close to midnight — after the subway, the train ride, and the squirrelly cab driver who seemed overly excited that his radio station could pick up Cleveland a sports station — so I didn’t have a chance to dig out the old volumes. But if you’ve never read Ellison, do yourself a favor and check out some of his stories. And, if you’re able, the film. There are lots of reasons — some good, some maybe not so much — why the man will be remembered, but it’s stories, the life’s work, that are truly remarkable.