I am not sure at all if this is a good idea, or if anything I would write in here is any good. But it's got me writing on here two weeks in a row, and that's more than enough for me. Before any of the hijinks start though, I'd like to acknowledge that my thoughts are with the people of Ukraine. I'll admit I'm not as informed about the Ukraine-Russia conflict as I ought to be, but what took place last week, and continues to take place, is something that I'm appalled by. To see such startling images pouring in on a moment-by-moment bases in what is meant to be our modern world is an atrocious failure by so, so many. My only wish is that this ends peacefully, and the citizens of the Ukraine can recover some semblance of what they've had stolen from them.
Hopefully there's some way I can provide some sort of escape from your doomscrolling in writing this. If you'd rather do that, obviously I understand. This will be here when you're ready. In the meantime, here's this week's blend of half-roasted takes.
The Weeknd is doing exactly what he should be doing.
Let's level with one another here: the Dawn.fm era of Abel Tesfaye's project The Weeknd is pretty weird. Let's never forget, though, that being weird is a very, very good thing, especially for someone in The Weeknd's position. After the stunning, record-breaking success of After Hours, paced by its transcendent hit "Blinding Lights," The Weeknd has become what some realized sooner than others: he's one of the brightest stars on the planet. If After Hours was truly that declaration of The Weeknd's legacy, Dawn.fm is his exploration of how that legacy can be expanded. For the first time in his career, The Weeknd is building his entire album around a concept: a descent into madness, brought upon by the soothing sounds of a late-night radio DJ. Sure, there's a few monster singles laced throughout the tracklist, but this is meant to be an experience, not just a collection of songs destined for Spotify's Billion-Plays Playlist. The point is driven home by The Dawn.fm Experience, a streaming event released to Prime Video this weekend. It follows Tesfaye, decked out in prosthetics that resemble his aged version that graces the album's cover, as he performs a selection of key tracks. It feels like a fever dream, because it's supposed to. Each track brings about some sort of set change, and it gets more and more surreal the further you dive into it. Pretty out-there stuff for a glorified live stream, you know? That's what I'm getting at here. The Weeknd has taken the music industry by storm, and now that he's done climbing to the top, what's next for him will undoubtedly be on his terms.
Adam McKay has lost all faith in humanity. I know I may not be settling any unclaimed ground here, but it's so evident that McKay, who made his career with a series of comedies with Will Ferrell, has given up. Sure, you could see it bubbling to the surface when he made his transition to more drama-based films like The Big Short and Vice, but his new film Don't Look Up shows all those thoughts laid bare. If the world were to end, this is how he'd think it would go down. A scientist like the one played by Leonardo DiCaprio would rise to prominence exposing the issue, only to become a glutton for newfound fame. Leaders in both business and politics would somehow still try to spin things for their own gain, and the citizens of the world--okay, fine, America-- would be too divided on what was actually happening to realize their own morality. If that sounds bleak, that's because it is. Whether you think it's heavy-handed or not, that's how McKay feels, and that's how he wrote the movie. Of course, there are moments of levity provided throughout, most notably by a yet-again-awesome Jonah Hill, but that never seems to take away from the underlying feeling of our characters' doom. It makes sense that a man who's spent his career in Hollywood to end up feeling like this, and McKay's very public falling-out with Ferrell shows he's not innocent either. That's his point, though: we're all flawed, and if we don't start working on it in a better way, the events of Don't Look Up are going to be prophecy instead of parody. It's not going to win Best Picture at the Oscars, and it shouldn't, but it was certainly worth the watch.
Sadly, The Worst Person in the World is about me. I'm not proud to admit that, but I'm not alone. There's a good chance The Worst Person in the World is about you, too. That's the achievement of Joaquin Trier's movie: it's found a way to feel familiar to an entire generation. The story follows Julie through her late-20s/early-30s, and her struggles in determining what she wants the rest of her life to look like. As is the case with myself, and so many others in my generation, the image of Julie's future is more blurry than she, or I, or we, would like it to be. Sure, there's certain things you hope are in that picture, or want to be in that picture, and maybe even need to be in that picture, but no matter how much time goes by, the resolution and clarity never improves. It's a daunting idea to think about, and a painful truth to live in. But it's also a circumstance that offers possibility, and a future that you never could have predicted. The blurriness of our future is enough to knock you down; The Worst Person in the World is an exercise in getting back up and finding that clarity for yourself.
John Mulaney still has it. Hosting SNL for his fifth time in the last four years, John Mulaney made his long-awaited first public appearance to host the show that he's long opined about in his comedy. For the sake of disclosure, I find the show unwatchable at this point, even this past weekend with Mulaney hosting. Still, I made it a point to seek out his opening monologue as I began my YouTube wormhole-dive, and it didn't disappoint. Focusing mostly on the things that made him a tabloid sensation out of nowhere, Mulaney addressed his rehab stint, and the birth of his son with current girlfriend Olivia Munn (I think it's only fair to mention that his divorce from Anna Marie Tendler was not mentioned). He didn't mention anything about politics, though he usually doesn't. , the entire monologue centered around himself. That was clearly his motivation, as Mulaney likely sought out to clear the air in front of as many eyes as possible, and SNL offered ample opportunity to do so. Well, he delivered, and it was so great to see him perform again.
And now, a list of questions
I don't really have enough brain power or time (or maybe both) to write about these topics, so I'll just leave them open-ended and let it fester. Maybe we'll revisit some of them next week, who knows?
-Is The Batman somehow flying a little under the radar?
-Are Coheed and Cambria about to release an later-career album that revitalizes them the way Silverstein's Dead Reflection did? Their singles so far suggest that they are.
-Is this the best NBA MVP race we've had in a decade? (I may actually take some time to research this)
-Am I going to be able to see all of the Best Picture nominees before the Oscars? (probably not, but we'll see!)
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