| Everything we can't stop loving, hating, and thinking about this week in pop culture.
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Everything we can't stop loving, hating, and thinking about this week in pop culture.
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Brace for Civil War Discourse |
With Civil War, Alex Garland made a film intended to provoke audiences into thinking about the state of the country. So naturally, I'm terrified. "Thinking," I've come to learn—especially when it comes to politically charged movies—tends to metastasize in today's culture into "getting angry," "baselessly ranting," or, the most dreaded phrase on the internet, "igniting discourse." It's not that I fear debate or passionate difference of opinion. That's the whole point of cultural consumption and certainly of criticism; disagreement should be a beautiful, natural byproduct of watching a film and discussing it with fellow enthusiasts. Mass agreement wouldn't just be impossible, but it would be incredibly boring too.
The issue is that discord in the year 2024, perhaps fitting for this particular movie, more resembles respective sides tossing grenades at each other rather than actually engaging with any cogent points or arguments. What I fear—and am preparing to be exasperated by when it comes to Civil War—is the bad-faith pontificating that has replaced thoughtful discussion.
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There will be pundits condemning and dismissing the film because of how they interpret the politics. People on social media will post typically extremist reactions to it, whether or not they've seen the film (which, as Garland told my colleague Nick Schager, they've already done). And, the critical evolution that I most detest, the "I am right and you are wrong, and I will not entertain any nuance in the middle" crowd, will bully their opinions of the film, good or bad, with fingers in the ears refusing to hear, let alone acknowledge, any other side. (Beware of any post that begins, "I don't see how anyone can think…") More than any recent film, Civil War, which is now in theaters, is fodder for these reactions. The film takes place in the near future at the climax of a second American civil war. Polarization has already sent the country into violent ruin. An us vs. them mentality has left major cities as hotbeds of bombings and sniper warfare, while the roads and towns between them are dotted with bodies swinging from overpasses and mass graves. The president (Nick Offerman) is essentially a despot in his third term who has disbanded the FBI and orders that journalists at the White House be shot on sight.
The Western Forces alliance of California and Texas is gaining traction in its effort to seize the capital and assassinate the president, with the major battleground taking place in Charlottesville, Virginia—conspicuously where 2017's deadly white supremacist rally took place. Kirsten Dunst and Wagner Moura play war reporters—she's a famed photographer—who journey to D.C. to capture the melee. With each stop on the way, they bear witness to war-ravaged atrocities and extremism-pilled citizens, wondering what is the point of their career in journalism if their images and stories from decades of global strife did nothing to curb what is happening in their own country.
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Garland, who wrote and directed Civil War, doesn't poison the film with think-piece exposition, presumably not to sacrifice the project to immediate evisceration from one political party. The ideologies of the respective sides are never elucidated, and the California-Texas alliance makes it so an audience member can't presume whether the Western Forces are the "good guys" or the "bad guys" based on easily classifiable ideologies. But the film isn't apolitical by any means. You don't need to know what the political motivations of either side were prior to this civil war to know that the devastation is a byproduct of a hauntingly recognizable extremism. As the journalists road trip to D.C., you are immersed inside the violence they experience. It's not B-roll on the news. It is visceral. And a president who, somehow, amends the Constitution to make way for a third term, sows division in the country, and gets rid of the federal organization that serves as his check and balance… Who could that possibly remind anyone of? I've talked to several people and read some responses to early screenings of the film that have called it apolitical because the ideologies and the plot's parallels to today's climate aren't made explicit. At a post-screening Q&A I attended, Garland expressed his confusion and frustration over that argument. Based on the plot description alone, how could you not think the film is political? He began writing it in 2020, during the period of disturbing division and unrest in this country, and observed as that continued up until its release today; early drafts of the script proved prescient as the Jan. 6 insurrection unfolded. Obviously, then, Civil War is meant to provoke conversation, specifically surrounding the current, combustible state of our country. But I'm nervous that, instead, the tendencies toward histrionic debate will dismantle that conversation. I can imagine the Fox News segments about it. Trump's team is probably already drafting some Truth Social manifesto about it. (He'd done a similar thing prior to the release of 2020's The Hunt, which Civil War has been compared to, after all.) What will social media be like after its release? As Vice reported in December, the trailer alone sparked conspiracy theorists to call the film an example of "predictive programming," which, they argued, is "shadowy deep state elites using their control of the media to prepare the population for an actual civil war." Chill, normal stuff. |
Listen, I'm not always coherent and definitely don't presume to be correct all the time in my opinions. I accidentally caught a glimpse of the eclipse before putting my special glasses on, and have been convinced that my brain has been partially fried since. (At least, that's what I told myself when I accidentally poured worcestershire instead of soy sauce on my dumplings earlier this week.) Maybe my thoughts are not reliable at the moment. Still, I loved Civil War and found it to be a profound, unshakable warning about what may even be an inevitability, if the country continues like this. And I've talked to folks who disagree. Their opinions are interesting. Is either one of us right? Who's to say. It would be fascinating and of such a cultural benefit if there could be conversation about this film that was considered and cordial—you could say "civil," even. But cynicism takes over; I'm bracing myself for when the discourse in the coming weeks most certainly is none of those things. |
It is a rare, affirming experience when you are watching a TV series or film and see yourself reflected back at you. I realized this last week that it's finally happened for me, thanks to a 68-year-old incredibly rich Jewish woman with rage issues, an unfiltered and filthy mouth, disastrous wardrobe, and conviction that the world is conspiring to keep her from being skinny. Finally, I feel seen. For 12 seasons across nearly 25 years, Susie Essman's Susie Green has been the gasket-blowing, expletive savant that's served as the lynchpin of Curb Your Enthusiasm's comedy. It's a show, we now know after Sunday night's series finale, about how bad-behaving people don't always learn lessons, and maybe are the ones who are actually right in the first place. We also know, after 120 episodes of Larry David's shenanigans, that it doesn't make them any less annoying, their grievances any less socially shocking, and their unapologetic attitude about it all any less frustrating. That's why we need a Susie. Susie is catharsis. She is the purging of disgust and disbelief that we all wish we could unleash when we encounter the Larrys of the world. When Susie erupts, sniper-firing curse words at the imbeciles and shutting them down completely, she is doing it on behalf of all of us. She is the expressed id we're all burying. |
I was shocked—disturbed, really—to learn that of the 51 Emmy nominations that Curb Your Enthusiasm has received over the years, none has been for Essman's performance as Susie. It is the definition of a comedy supporting performance. The show would not work without her. Every single scene she is in is memorable. And, beyond any of that, there's not a line reading she gives that doesn't rank among the funniest things you've seen or heard that week. In the finale, she punctuates the opening comedy bit of Larry, Jeff (Jeff Garlin), and Leon (J.B. Smoove) being bonkers on an airplane, telling the stewardess, "You are dealing with three very disturbed individuals here." Her calm delivery, in contrast to her usual outbursts, made me do a spit-take. Later, when she dons a wig, sits in a wheelchair, and begrudgingly tries to gain Larry sympathy in his court trial, her seething support was another new note from her. And then when the powder keg explodes after she learns that Jeff stole her anniversary gift, it's Susie at her purest. Pure fury and filth, and for us, pure joy. Yet, for all her tirades, we always see that Susie is a person who enjoys calmness, nice things, and fun at heart. It's the merry band of idiots around her that causes her to lose her patience. I get it. Give Susie Essman the Emmy nomination she deserves this year. If not, I've collected 24 years of pointers on how to brutally dress you all down for the oversight. |
I know people are gearing up for what should be a great new episode of Saturday Night Live with Ryan Gosling as the host. But this is a newsletter about pop culture from the past week that I can't stop thinking about, and I've thought about nothing more than the "Jumanji" sketch from last week's Kristen Wiig-hosted episode—and may not think of anything else for a long, long time. It is the case of SNL perfection: a premise that is bizarre at the surface, then becomes surprisingly relatable, and is written and acted with sharpness, no lazy jokes or baiting gimmicks. In the sketch, Wiig's character is meeting her boyfriend's friends for the first time. After a nice dinner, the host, played by Andrew Dismukes, suggests they play the train-themed board game Ticket to Ride. The issue is: Wiig's character doesn't play board games, because she doesn't want to be "Jumanji'd." |
What ensues is a dizzying, hilarious debate about how an adult could legitimately be afraid of such a silly thing morphs into the physics what it actually means to be "Jumanji'd." Dismukes' breaking point monologue has played in my head on a loop all week: "It sounds like you think Jumanji is going into Jumanji. But in Jumanji, Jumanji comes out!" Watch it here. And then watch it 14-43 times a day, as I have. |
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I know that I'm usually ranting about Real Housewives or being somewhat embarrassing about my celebrity crushes in this newsletter. But I contain multitudes! For example, one of the things I've watched this past week that I've been most fascinated by is this clip National Geographic just released of never-before captured penguin behavior. It's stunning. A preview of the upcoming series Secrets of the Penguins shows a march of Emperor penguins. At around 5 months old, the penguins typically shed their feathers and sojourn to the water, where they will jump off the arctic ice and into the sea to swim for the first time. The common assumption, as has been observed, is that the young birds leap from a platform about one or two feet from water level. But what cinematographer Bertie Gregory captures—with thrilling drone shots—is dozens and dozens of penguins taking their first dives from a cliff that's roughly 50 feet in the air. |
I swear, it's astonishing. I was rapt and in disbelief as each successive bird took the leap. Watch it here. |
I have no interest in wading into any discourse about O.J. Simpson's life or death. Instead let me point you towards the best nine seconds of television concerning him that ever aired, courtesy of 30 Rock and Jane Krakowski. |
More From The Daily Beast's Obsessed |
Why Real Housewives of Beverly Hills fans are pissed off at Kyle Richards (this time). Read more. The only Gen-Z opinion about Sex and the City you need to read. Read more.
We interviewed William Shatner about his next "bold" adventure: facing death. Read more.
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Civil War: An explosive warning against a Trump takeover that everyone should see. (Now in theaters) The Sympathizer: Robert Downey, Jr. might be following up his Oscar with an Emmy. (Sun. on HBO) - The Greatest Hits: The most original time travel story in years. (Now on Hulu)
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https://elink.thedailybeast.com/oc/620e2783ef724906bc14a5b2kulxb.eea/97f8f3ad |
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