J.D. Salinger apparently didn't intend for his writing to be adapted for film or even widely read. The author of *The Catcher in the Rye* ceased publishing in 1965, but continued writing privately until his death 45 years later—and long before that point, he’d decided against allowing movie adaptations of his work, a decision that somehow endured beyond him. Consequently, those seeking to profit from Salinger's legacy have had to find other ways to do so. The latest example is *My Salinger Year*, a drama written and directed by Philippe Falardeau, which draws on Joanna Rakoff’s memoir of the same name. The story unfolds in 1995 when Joanna (Margaret Qualley), an aspiring writer and poet, moves to New York and finds employment at one of the city's oldest literary agencies. Unbeknownst to her, this agency manages the affairs of the famously reclusive J.D. Salinger. She also moves into a new apartment with her boyfriend, who is himself writing a novel—a finished product that conveniently fits inside a thin manila envelope; I suspect it might contain a flash drive with the book on it, but given the time period – the mid-90s – anything was possible. Joanna’s responsibilities include responding to Salinger's substantial fan mail. Agency protocol dictates that she sends back standard replies explaining that Salinger doesn’t read these letters (and based on what’s depicted in the film, he wasn’t missing out on much—nor were we). However, she finds herself tempted to craft more meaningful responses to some of the fans—despite never having actually read any of his books, including *Catcher*, making her qualifications for acting as Salinger's unofficial spokesperson questionable. The only reason Salinger’s name appears in the film’s title seems to be to trick viewers into thinking they’ll gain insight into the author. In reality, the storyline has very little connection to him—it isn’t even clever enough to resemble a parody like *Igby Goes Down*—except for an apparent desire to violate his most cherished possessions: his privacy and his creative work. Consider this: in May 1986, Salinger discovered that British writer Ian Hamilton planned to publish a biography relying heavily on letters Salinger had sent to other authors and friends. Salinger filed suit to prevent the book’s release, and in *Salinger v. Random House*, the court ruled that Hamilton's extensive use of these letters—including direct quotes and paraphrasing—was unacceptable, asserting that an author's right to control publication outweighed fair use principles. It doesn’t require great intelligence to realize Salinger wouldn’t have been pleased with a movie and book based on correspondence he didn’t read or reply to—let alone featuring a character who deliberately avoided his writing because she wanted to be “provoked,” not “entertained.” Ultimately, *My Salinger Year* fails to be either provocative or entertaining.

Source on TMDB