What’s missing in “Futureface” is a palpable sense of who Wagner became after her teenage years. She self-deprecatingly alludes to being a “bad friend” who lives with her husband in “an overpriced converted yuppie loft complex” that she despises. For the most part, though, Wagner turns her gaze outward, away from her life as it is right now. The result is a book that seems mercilessly honest from one angle and carefully guarded from another.
Wagner’s skepticism and irreverence are so polished that you want to get a better sense of what motivates them. But the harsh light she shines on those around her can be so blinding that we lose sight of who she is.