Showing posts with label TV. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TV. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Cite Your Source

My kids learned at an early age that they couldn't convince me of anything just by saying it.

"Cite your source," I'd say.

One time, when Aidan was about ten or eleven, he told me I should stop buying gas at certain gas stations because the company owners hated America. At the time, he attended a tiny conservative Christian school where the popular consensus was that Obama was a socialist fascist dictator, born in Kenya and bent upon destroying the American Way of Life. Some folks were quick to jump on any McCarthy-esque rumor that popped up on the internet.

The inherent socio-political contradictions of that assertion aside, I wanted to teach my kids to respect other people's views, but also to think for themselves by looking at them with a critical eye. 

"Don't believe it just because someone says it's true," I would say.

So, when he told me about the gas station, I asked him to cite his source.

"Ringo's mom," he said confidently.

"She's a secondary source," I said, and then I explained to him the difference between primary and secondary sources. This explanation involved me defending myself against the charge that I thought Ringo's mom was a liar. 
Paul Reiser and Helen Hunt in
Mad about You; photo from TV.msn.com

"What source was Ringo's mom citing?"

"She read an article," he said.

Ah-hah. The definitive, indestructible "she read an article" defense.

(Mr. Peevie and I watched a show in the 90s called Mad About You with Helen Hunt and Paul Reiser. We still quote one of those episodes, in which Helen Hunt's character Jamie argues with her husband Paul, and he asks her how she knows what she's claiming. "I read an article!" she says--and it becomes a recurring theme. I squandered an hour watching Mad About You clips to try to find this scene, to no avail. This is how seriously I take my Green Room duty. You're welcome.)

As it turns out, the politics of gasoline are far more complicated than a simplistic anti-America rumor would have it. Snopes breaks it down. Notice the list of sources at the bottom of the article.

Sometimes, even sources that appear on the surface to be legitimate lack scientific rigor and should be source-checked.. See, for example, this article on the dangers of vaccinations from a secondary source called The Free Thinker (which looks like the Libertarian version of Huffington Post),written by a dude named Dave Mihalovic.

It all comes down to science and math: does the article cite (and more importantly, link to) legitimate scientific sources? The vaccine article referenced above makes many claims, none of which are sourced. The author cites "secret" CDC documents--but doesn't link to them or provide screen shots. There's no way for a thinking person to double check his claims--we're just supposed to believe him.

Um, no.

The first link in the article is to an article in another secondary source with equally shady credentials--not to an FDA document or a CDC memo or a news story, but to another article by the same guy. "Here," Dave Mihalovic is essentially saying, "you can trust me, because I said it again over here in this other article." Please.

In the third paragraph, the article quotes Brian Hooker, "a PhD scientist" about a CDC cover-up of the alleged risks of vaccinations. Who is Brian Hooker? What are his credentials in medicine, and medical research? What replicated studies has he conducted, and with what legitimate scientific controls?

The answers are, in order: He is a biochemical engineer who works as a consultant in the biotech industry.  He has no medical credentials, and has done no studies, that I can find. He's just a guy who is motivated, sadly, by the alleged vaccine-caused autism of his own child.

Regarding the claims in this article that the CDC has covered up data from their own Vaccine Safety Datalink database showing a "very high link between Thimerosal-containing vaccines and autism rates in children": Show me the proof, dude.

The article claims that there are "a number" of public records that back up this claim--but only links to a 20-page Congressional Record from ten years ago. This document actually contradicts the authors claims: "...exposure to less than the minimal risk level is believed to be safe" and "the minimal risk level would need to be multiplied by ten to reach a level at which harm would be expected through exposure." You can find this out for yourself by clicking the link, and then control-F searching for the word "risk" and looking at the 18th occurrence of the word. See? I have done all the work for you.

You're welcome.

Whatever. This is just one example of millions, and just one topic of dozens that we encounter every day in the news, on Facebook, or in casual conversation, which requests our uncritical acceptance of a questionable assertion. 

Don't do it. Be a critical, questioning listener--not just about gas stations and vaccinations, but about everything--things that cause cancer, things that prevent heart attacks, things that pastors say, things that politicians say--and not just the ones you disagree with. You get the picture.

Or, alternately, you could just trust the opinions here at The Green Room, and I promise, we will always provide primary sources.

Sunday, October 27, 2013

Thirteen

Hello InterWebs,

M. Peevie here. I took a year off from guest blogging my annual birthday post on The Green Room. I was working on my post last year, didn't quite get it done, and then my brother Aidan died. As Mim has said, we lost our whimsy--and since these posts are generally chock-full of whimsy, I just could not hit "publish."

(Mim, or Mimsey, is one of my nicknames for my mom. C. Peevie came up with it. I am also fond of calling her by her first name, and I get a small rush of pleasure when her friends overhear this and make a shocked and horrified face. Mim doesn't mind, she said, as long as it doesn't feel like disrespect to her. I guess so far it doesn't.)
Me, Aidan and C. Peevie, December 2011

So. Aidan. Yeah. It's really hard to talk about that. I love to talk about Aidan, and I miss him all the time. Sometimes I wish my friends would talk to me more about him, and ask me about him. The part I don't want to talk about is how I feel about him dying or about how much I miss him, because I don't really have words for it, and I don't know how talking about it is going to make it any better. So I just sort of go along missing him, and remembering him, and telling Aidan stories when I get a chance.

So much has changed in my life since my last post when I turned 11. I am nearly thirteen now, and I am a different person.

I left my little school where I had lots of friends, and teachers who love worksheets and who sometimes seemed to love rules more than children, and went to a big school, Whitney Young. I went from having two brothers at home to no brothers at home because C. Peevie left for college in August. I went from being a pre-teen who likes big words like "anthropomorphism" to an actual teenager who still likes big words like "precipitously" and "petrichor" and "sesquipedalian." 

I went from getting straight As in school without breaking a sweat to getting almost straight As but definitely breaking a sweat. When I was 10, I wanted to go to DePaul on a softball scholarship. When I was 11, I wanted to go to MIT to study architecture and engineering. And now I have determined that it makes more sense to get a liberal arts education first, so I want to go to DePauw University, and then maybe MIT, or maybe somewhere else, depending on where the liberal arts take me.

My school is great. I have new friends (Hi MK! Hi BB! Hi Beckham!). I like that my classes help me understand important topics in our country like the Affordable Care Act, the debt ceiling, and the government shut-down. I made advanced honors band, which keeps me awake at night with anxiety. I have to keep up with kids who are in high school and who have A LOT more experience than I do. 

I am riding the school bus for the first time (boo) with other seventh and eighth graders who are loud and obnoxious and immature and annoying and stupid. They make me envy deaf people. I also take CTA now (yay), and have my own Ventra card.







It might interest you to know, InterWebs, that I have become a Fangirl. Fangirls are girls (duh) who are fans (duh) of certain TV shows, movies, and actors--but we are more than fans. We are obsessed. My particular areas of obsession include Doctor WhoSherlock (the BBC version), Supernatural, and the Marvel Universe. I'm pretty sure that Benedict Cumberbatch, Tom Hiddleston, and David Tennant all love me as much as I love them, which is a lot.

Oh, and I am now a card-carrying Nerdfighter--one who is not ashamed to be intelligent, and who fights to decrease WorldSuck. Nerdfighters are entirely composed of awesome. I highly recommend that you check out the books of the Nerdfighter in Chief, John Green, and in particular, The Fault in our Stars, which I have read multiple times.

That is about enough for now. This is M. Peevie, signing off.

Monday, August 16, 2010

South Haven, Reprised

Three-fifths of the Peevies returned to South Haven last week, accompanied by our friends the Dr. and Mr. Paradigm Shift and their two kids, SamWise and E-Dude.

We staked out our beach claim, and headed out into the warm-for-Lake-Michigan water.  While we were far out from the beach, on the sand bar past the over-our-head water, we noticed a blond-headed kid swimming toward us.  As he got closer, I thought to myself, "Hey, that kid looks a lot like Type A, A. Peevie's good friend from school."  But that would have been ridiculously unlikely, so I turned away. 

He kept coming, invading our swim-space, but before I could get annoyed, I realized that it was, indeed, Type A, who lives a mile or two away from us in the city, but who somehow found us 130 miles away, in the middle of Lake Michigan, without pre-arrangement.  I would like to know, if any of my readers have the statistical savvy and inclination to do the calculation:  What are the odds?

The kids found a huge log, which they spent hours moving around the water.  They used it as a flotation device, as a boat, as a king-of-the-hill prop.  We could not have purchased a better beach toy.  While they logged time lugging the log, the grownups sat on beach chairs, getting skin cancer, drinking carbonated beverages, reading Brave New World (Dr. PS) and The Second Civil War (me), and chatting about how perfect our lives were at that moment.

We played 500 off the deck with a soccer ball.  We watched shows like People Getting Their Arms Bitten Off By Sharks and Jobs That Make Normal People Throw Up. Plus--bonus!--I got to watch my boyfriend Vincent in the season seven finale and season eight opener of Law and Order: CI.  Sigh.

I miss you, South Haven.  See you again in a couple of weeks, I hope.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Blogging 24: Jack Gets Laid!

The following takes place between 7 a.m. and 8 a.m.

Smart move, putting the martyr's widow in place to lead the IRKsome peace process.

President Taylor: "Is CTU capable of handling security for the peace process?" Excellent question. I think we all know the answer.

Yes, why are you calling Chloe?

Chloe in provisional command? Chloe? CHLOE?! Has he ever met her?!

"Try to make the transition as quick and painless as possible." AH-HAHAHAHAHAHA!

Sexy Non-sexy dialog (tm: TWOP) from Hastings: "I let the snake into the garden."

...

Kissing? Kissing! Is Jack gonna get laid for the first time in eight seasons?

Yes. Yes he is. Finally.

Who's the old guy? I mean, who's the old dead guy?

Ah-ha. He was an old guy with a Vantage Point. And now there's a Peeping Trofim standing over his corpse with a high-powered rifle. Ruh-roh.

...

President Suvarov, you say? I remember him. He got blowed up in Season Six, but survived.

"There may be someone who can help us here--but you're not going to like it."

...

Samir has just gone into cardiac arrest. Oh, and he's foaming at the mouth. Hmmm.

Finally! The inimitable Gregory Itzin is back, playing the Nixonian President Logan. Will they still call him President Logan, even after he did all that bad shit?

Apparently, yes, they will.

Logan: "In some ways, the people there appreciate me more than the people in my own country."

Logan: "I'm going to be exercising some leverage--but the details must stay between me and the Russians. No laws will be broken." And also, we won't be breathing, blinking, or speaking.

Logan: "I made mistakes. Terrible mistakes, that stained the office of the presidency, and for which I will be paying the rest of my life. But I can still do some good." I love it when criminals refer to their crimes as "mistakes."

He's still weasely.

...

I'm pretty sure Agent Freckles is going to die.

Shot. In the gut. Can't be good. Bleeding.

(Mr. Peevie said, "She told the writers that she wanted her character to go out with a bang--and she went out with two!" Good one, Mr. Peevie!)

No happy endings for Jack.

Ever.

Silent clock.

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Blogging 24: We Interrupt This Intense Program With a Weather Report. It's Raining.

The following takes place between 6 a.m. and 7 a.m.

6:00:00
The sun is rising over Manhattan. (Sunrise on April 5, 2010 took place at 6:33. Close enough.)

Ethan is still pasty and sweaty.

Wait. Remind me: why is the POTUS in New York again? In imminent danger of becoming POTUS-toast?

Tick tock. Tick tock. Wow. No dialogue. Just...waiting. Tick tock.

Ten seconds to STOP THE BOMB! SEVEN SECONDS!!

Tarin knows what to do.

Hmmm. What. WHAT? What does he know to do? That was pretty good suspense if you ask me.

...

"Can you hear me now?" Nice product tag line placement, Verizon Wireless!

Jack: "It's not our call. President Taylor said..."

Wait just a cotton-picking minute. Since when does Jack NOT second-guess the president and do exactly what he wants to do, even if it is in direct opposition to the president's direct orders?

A black SUV, of course. The Vehicle of Betrayal.

Bishop. The soon-to-be-dead agent's name is Bishop. Nice subtext on the name, writers.

Who is this actor playing Bishop? Looks familiar.

OH! President Taylor got slappy!

"It wasn't your decision to make!"

"I don't want deniability! I want Hassan!"

She's like, ready to cry. Baby.

And wow. That Rob is one cheeky bastard: "Really, Madame President? New York is safe." Um, yes. Really. Treason is treason, dude. That's why Tony Almeida and his Cubs mug went to prison, man.

...

If Dana doesn't stop pursing her lips I'm going to twist them with a needle-nose plier.

Bishop: "We succeeded. We saved Manhattan."

Aw, Boy Scout. You are such an honorable man. Too bad you didn't do a background check before you got engaged to a DOMESTIC TERRORIST.

Tarin, to Hassan: "You wanted the cover of Time Magazine!" Good one, Tarin.

The line that will cement Hassan's place in (fake) history as a Martyr for Peace: "Yes, I've made mistakes. But believing in peace was not one of them."

Aw. Hassan is crying. What a baby.

...

POTUS is putting a lot of pressure on Ethan to get back to work right away, isn't she? Shouldn't she at least let him take an hour off to recover from his MASSIVE HEART ATTACK?

Jack sure is familiar with New York City streets and traffic patterns. It's almost like he's urban-omnicient.

Dana! You evil bitch! Chloe does not trust you; therefore YOU. WILL. BE. CAUGHT.

Arlo! Keep asking questions! Go Arlo! But I'm pretty sure you're going to die and get stuffed into a vent...

Oh! Don't turn your back on her, dude! Don't turn...oh crap. Oh. Crap. Oh...Saved by the earpiece. Phew.

...

"You're on an island, you know. There's no way out." Heh.

Well, if you're going to steal a car for a chase scene, it's good to pick a fast one.

All anyone has to do is take one look at Dana's BitchFace to know she's behind all these shenanigans.

Wait another cotton-picking minute. How did they have a car and two henchpersons, complete with disguises, waiting at the parking garage which was a last minute diversion from the Real Plan?

AHA! The Cell Phone of Discovery!

...

Ad for Home Depot: "Break open a can of doing"? Lame

...

Wait, what? The Russian foreign minister? What do the Russians have to do with all of this?

Oh, yeah. I forgot. We started off the day with Renee separating a Russian mobster from his thumb to try to get to the Chief Russian Scalawag who was selling the Rods of Doom.

And that reminds me: Where has Sark been all this time? I miss him.

Oh. Oprah would not be happy. Jack is texting while driving.

Cole's feelings are hurt. He is probably going to say goodbye to love.

...

I know why Dana wants to talk to Jack Bauer. I'd want to talk him. Wouldn't you?

Excellent Get Smart doors.

It wouldn't be 24 without Jack pulling the old choke-hold-up-against-the-wall maneuver.

Did Renee just roll her eyes in whatever-boredom when Hastings gulped at Jack's rough interrogation techniques?

Dana: Tick-tock, Mr. Bauer. You're running out of time.

That is a cute little blue...WAIT. WHAT?! WHAT?!!!! Really, Fox-News Chicago -- REALLY?!! You're going to interrupt 24 with a freaking WEATHER REPORT? That is so wrong.

[I picked up the phone at this point and called Fox News Chicago. When the guy at the station answered the phone, I said, "Really?! REALLY?!" and apparently, he had received a few other similarly irate calls, because he said, "I'm very sorry, Ma'am, she'll be off in just a minute."

"Really, though?!" I said again, and he said, "I'm very sorry, Ma'am. She had to do a weather update because of the rough weather situation. She'll be off in a minute." And they couldn't just scroll "It's raining and windy in Chicago!" across the bottom of the screen?]

Ahem. Back to the blogging of 24:

Recycled plot device: World leader forced to confess heinous crimes over the internet under threat of public execution.

...

People keep saying, "Get over it."

...

I'm still mad at Fox News Chicago for breaking into the show with a fucking WEATHER REPORT.

Those bad guys must be rilly, rilly bad if they're actually against peace!

Kayla: "Can you guarantee that he will be saved?" No, dummy. There are no guarantees in life, and especially not in a hostage situation. The only guarantee in 24 is that the perimeter will be breached.

Where are these drones, exactly? How can they deliver such clear video?

Jack: "Renee, I need to talk to you. I want you with me on the assault team. I may need your circular sawing and stabbing skills." OK, he didn't really say that last thing.

She is like a little red-headed puppy.

...

What happened to "Renee, you must stay behind me at all times"? He actually held the door for her to go in ahead of him.

Why did Jack put that gun clip neatly on top of the fuse box?

Watch out, little girl with Etch-A-Sketch!

Oh, that woman on the couch is going to scream, isn't she? She's going to blow the whole operation!

No! Even better: she's the be-wigged one!

Oh my. Hassan is dead. The whole confess and then get executed show was pre-recorded. What a cheat. Good thing the wife and daughter weren't watching that.

And...silent clock.

More preview teases with Gregory Itzin.

Friday, April 9, 2010

Why You Should Stop Saying "Happy Mothers' Day"

I don't actually hate Mothers' Day any more (it was not high on my list of holidays after losing a child), but I totally understand why some of my friends do.

My unscientific poll last year found that more people feel sad on Mothers' Day (MD) than happy. Many people feel ambivalence or even dread as MD approaches, for many reasons: having lost a child, desiring a baby, having a sick child, having a strained relationship with your child or your mother, wanting to be married, having a mother who hurt or disappointed you (aka, being human), experiencing the death of your mother, dealing with your mother's serious illness, and on and on.

So for all of you out there who don't feel particularly thrilled about the prospect of yet another crummy mother's day approaching--I'm sorry for your pain. I get it.

Why does there need to be an official mother's day on the calendar, anyway? I've decided that I want to be the kind of mother that has zero expectations around the day. What I really want is to have a great relationship with my kids, such that every day we have loving interactions, and That Sunday in May is just another typical day.

When they've grown up and established their own households, if they want to send me a card or a potted geranium or take me out for a meal, great. (Although I'm not particularly fond of geraniums. But whatever.) I will never decline kindness or attention. But if they forget, or they're not good at getting a card in the mail, or they've had a busy week--so what? If we continue to have fun together, and good conversations, and reciprocal expressions of love and appreciation, then one Day on the calendar means very little.

(BTW, this logic does NOT apply to my birthday.)

If, however, by the time my kids are out on their own I've screwed them up enough that they don't feel any tenderness or appreciation toward me, then our problems are larger than an M-Day card can fix. (God protect them, please, from my mistakes and selfishness.)

And what about dads? Should they be off the hook? Mr. Peevie's job, I believe, is to help the kids, while they're still young, to say "I love you mom" and "Thanks, mom"--but not just on M-Day. If he does it on M-Day, great; but as long as he's setting this example the rest of the year, then I'm totally cool with minimal fanfare on That Day.

I don't dread the Day; and I don't want my family to dread it either. Do you want to join me in my Quest to Take the Expectations Out of Mother's Day?

And I really want to address the issue of the ubiquitous, relentless, and somewhat mindless Mothers' Day greetings. The only person you really need to acknowledge the Day to is your own mother. You don't need to say it to me or to any other woman, whether she's a mother or not. It's not like Christmas/Hanukkah, or Independence Day, or Halloween, where the celebration and acknowledgement includes everyone.

I'm not trying to be mean here, and if you say HMD to me, I won't bite your head off. But be aware: saying "Happy Mothers' Day!" does not make it happy. Before popping out the cliched holiday salutation to someone who is not your mother, look into her eyes, and try to discern whether it is, in fact, a happy day for her. Maybe a better thing to say is, "How are you today?"--and really mean it.

And I will leave you with this Anne Lamott essay in Salon about her not-June-Cleaver-mother. It's not pertinent to Mothers' Day, per se; but it's Anne Lamott, so it's entertaining, touching, and truth-telling, and I think you will enjoy it.

NOTE: I really wanted to include a picture of June Cleaver with this post, but for some reason Blogger won't let me. Stupid Blogger.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Blogging the Festival of Faith and Writing:

Dateline: Chicago

Getting excited about the Festival. Arranging logistics: what time are we going to leave? Who will drive? Can we get there in time for the 1:45 interview with Wally Lamb on Thursday? Can we stay until Mary Karr gives the final plenary on Saturday night? (By the way: click on that link. It's an interview with Karr in Salon.com.)

No, no. We MUST stay until after Mary Karr's talk. To leave before Karr would be like going to the Oscars and leaving right before Tom Hanks announced Hurt Locker for Best Picture.

Here's what I'm slating on my dance card in between Lamb and Karr:

  • Possibly Michael Perry on "Life as a Bumbling Agnostic," or Matt Ruff confessing "An Interesting Moral Education; or How I Learned to Lie for a Living."
  • Another Wally Lamb event: "There But For the Grace of God: What My Writing Has Taught Me About Sin, Redemption, and the Complexity of the Crime-And-Punishment Equation."
  • The talk by the poet Christian Wiman sort of intrigues me, even though I am not a poet, and only barely a reader of poetry. His topic is "Hive of Nerves: On Modern Anxiety and Its Ancient Remedy." I loved his essay, Gazing Into the Abyss."
  • Maybe I'll check out Kate "The Tale of Despereaux" DiCamillo's talk on "Why Writers Write: Questions and Answers on the Craft of Writing."
  • And, fondly remembering my conversations with Andras Visky both in my own home and also in Romania (name dropper!), I am interested in seeing his new play, Backborn.

There's more, of course; so much more. But this is a good start.

The primary reason I love to attend the Festival of Faith and Writing--other than the fact that it is three days of NO KIDS! NO DISHES! SHOWERING ALONE AND WITHOUT INTERRUPTIONS!--is that it is inspiring to me as a writer.

So far, the first thing I've learned from the FFW this year: I'm too lazy to be a real writer. These writers are prolific, focused, dedicated, focused, hard-working, focused, and apparently un-distracted by Facebook, 24, and Angel DVDs. So far, in reading through the speaker biographies, I have not read about any writers who seem even a little bit like me. They're all very evolved, spiritual, and terribly, terribly focused on their Craft.

Maybe I can spin that to a publisher as some kind of advantage.

Saturday, April 3, 2010

Blogging 24: Hello, Plot Devices! Hello, Subtext!

Now that we know for sure that this is the last season for 24 (WAH! WAH! WAH! But also? Yeah. Smart move, since it's been getting a little shark-jumpy for the last three seasons.), I feel compelled to blog it more diligently.

  • Wait, what? Jack just agrees to go and babysit a world leader during an imminent radiological attack? When he's in the middle of the action, he's going to willingly get into a minivan and go for a drive with a politician? Nuh uh. I call lame plot device.
  • Nothing good ever comes from a man with a black goatee.
  • PresidentTaylor to toady: We can't give in to the terrorists--"Not unless you're intent on destroying our moral authority!"
  • And also: "Caving to any terrorist demand weakens this nation immeasurably." These are examples of what Dave Barry likes to refer to as "wooden dialogue" created by the "wooden dialogue generator."
  • Hmm. Another plot-device heart attack. I remember that happening in Season Whatever when Wayne Palmer's girlfriend's rich, old husband collapsed and MorallyAmbiguousSherry stopped Girlfriend from giving him his meds.
  • I thought they were supposed to take President Hassan alive so they could turn him over to the terrorists. When did that change?
  • Did that tunnel get longer for the trip back? Or am I just confused by all the shooting?

So, it looks like some fun times are ahead for next week's two-hour episode: the inimitable Gregory Itzin will be back, which can only mean delicious trouble.

Also from the previews: "Tick-tock, Mr. Bauer. You are running out of time."

Aaahhhh. I love the smell of subtext in the morning.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

The Green Room is Moving On Up

I'm delighted to report that rights to The Green Room have been purchased by an anonymous buyer for $6.8 million. The new owner has contracted with E. Peevie to continue to produce clever blog posts in her own inimitable style for the next two years, with an option to renew.

There are also plans in the works to develop a sitcom around the hilarious Peevie antics; and the casting team has already contacted representatives of Billy Bob Thornton, Valerie Bertinelli, Dylan "The Suite Life of Zack and Cody" Sprouse, and Elle Fanning for lead roles in the family comedy.

The new management has been mute on the subject of who will be asked to play the role of A. Peevie. "It has to be someone who can capture his unique brilliance and lovable strangeness, without turning him into a caricature," a member of the casting team said. "There are not very many actors in that age range who have the kind of depth we're looking for."

As Green Room readers could predict, many of the story lines will have to do with poop, both human and butterfly. But the family comedy will take on other contemporary topics as well, including Little League, Jesus, public school education, and the new health care bill.

Even though the news of the acquisition just broke early this morning, already major players have indicated an interest in being involved in the project, including President Barack Obama, Kiefer Sutherland, and Vincent D'Onofrio.

"I have had my eye on this talented woman for awhile," D'Onofrio reportedly said. "I would jump at the chance to work on a project that had her name on it."