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  • A Logan Square Bar Copes With The Tragic Death of a Chef Days Before Opening

    A Logan Square Bar Copes With The Tragic Death of a Chef Days Before Opening

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    After years of working at restaurants, Felipe Hernandez was brimming with excitement about finally opening his own. Hernandez was a partner and co-chef at Common Decency, an upcoming bar in Logan Square. Hernandez — with friends chef Mark Steuer, beverage director Kelsey Keller, and partner Jason Turley — had big plans for the space at 3154 W. Diversey Avenue.

    Hernandez, a native of Munster, Indiana, worked at restaurants like Takito Kitchen, Bistro Campagne, the Bedford, El Che Bar, and Funkenhausen. Simply nicknamed “Bro,” he was known as an all-around good guy, and ready to take the next step in his career with owning a place.

    That dream was cut short when, just days from opening, on Friday, April 5, Hernandez died suddenly after what friends and family described as an accident. No foul play was involved. Funeral services were held on Sunday, April 14. Hernandez was 34.

    Originally set to open in December, Common Decency’s opening date inside the former Lost Lake space had already been pushed back a few times when the tragic loss of their chef temporarily halted work. Chicago’s culinary community responded in kind with an outpouring of support for the Common Decency team.

    Hernandez’s family, who live in Indiana, declined comment. They were in town over the weekend as Common Decency quietly opened on Sunday for a private fundraiser. Steuer says they raised nearly $8,000 which they’ll donate to Chicago-based Evolved Network, a charity that “provides experiential programming through culinary and gardening equipping youth in systemically oppressed communities with transformative healing, skills and support needed to evolve into masters of their unique gifts.”

    Now, the staff is trying to get it together to open the bar and honor Hernandez’s work. The bar is set to open on Friday, April 26.

    Hernandez worked with Steuer to build the menu at the bar and at a second restaurant that will occupy the room next door to the bar. Fever Dream will open later this year. Steuer says he’s hired a key member of the kitchen staff (a cook who’s worked with Steuer before) at Webster’s Wine Bar in Logan Square, with the ownership’s blessing, to help pick up where Hernandez left off in the kitchen.

    Steuer, who led the kitchens at Funkenhausen and Bedford, worked with Hernandez for years. He struggled to articulate what his loss meant: “Spending time in the kitchen with him was one of my favorite things to do,” Steuer says.

    He described Hernandez as a very “soulful” man. As adults grow older, it’s harder to find real friends, and Steuer says he was fortunate to share such a genuine connection with Hernandez. He recalls spending a day with Hernandez watching the Super Bowl and being introduced to his mother’s signature seven-layer dip. A version of it named after Hernandez appears on the bar’s opening menu.

    Steuer posted a tribute on his Instagram account on Wednesday, April 10. He wrote: “I’m not sure how to even begin to navigate a life without you in it, but I will, and I promise to make you just as proud as you’ve made me over the years. To say that I’ll miss you every day is an understatement, but I know that all I need to do is recall any of the innumerable fond memories we made and you’ll be right here again.”

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    Ashok Selvam

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  • Confederacy Month, the New Drake Diss, and Stephen A.’s Apology

    Confederacy Month, the New Drake Diss, and Stephen A.’s Apology

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    Van Lathan and Rachel Lindsay start the show by addressing the new theme song and reaction from our Thought Warriors (00:15). Then, they give their impressions of the bizarre new Drake-produced AI track (20:56), and the internet’s reaction to Stephen A. Smith’s comments on Donald Trump’s relatability (38:36). Later, they expand on the surprise that their birthday month falls during Confederate Heritage Month in Mississippi, and the reason behind its existence (1:18:34).

    Hosts: Van Lathan and Rachel Lindsay
    Producer: Ashleigh Smith

    Subscribe: Spotify / Apple Podcasts / Stitcher

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    Van Lathan

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  • Scenes From the Trump Trial, the NBA’s New Rights Deal, the Afterlife of the Alt-Weeklies, and Remembering Howie Schwab

    Scenes From the Trump Trial, the NBA’s New Rights Deal, the Afterlife of the Alt-Weeklies, and Remembering Howie Schwab

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    Bryan and David start the show by remembering Howie Schwab, who died over the weekend. They reflect on his legacy as a producer, researcher, and the final boss on Stump the Schwab (1:00). Then they discuss the Donald Trump trial, at which cameras were barred from the courtroom and Trump struggled to stay awake (9:41). Afterward, they get into upcoming bids for NBA rights (15:56). They then talk about the Summer Olympics, how much of it they’ll watch, and who will be featured (27:43). Later, during the Notebook Dump, they bring up the afterlife of the alt-weeklies (36:35).

    Plus, the Overworked Twitter Joke of the Week and David Shoemaker Guesses the Strained-Pun Headline.

    Hosts: Bryan Curtis and David Shoemaker
    Producer: Brian H. Waters

    Subscribe: Spotify / Apple Podcasts / Stitcher / RSS

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    Bryan Curtis

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  • Remembering Julius Russell, Caterer to the Stars and Mentor to Black Chicago Chefs

    Remembering Julius Russell, Caterer to the Stars and Mentor to Black Chicago Chefs

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    Julius Russell was an influential chef, caterer, and a much-needed mentor in Chicago’s community of Black chefs. A South Side native, Russell founded a private chef and catering brand, A Tale of Two Chefs, and frequently shared his French and Creole culinary expertise — using his familiar resonant baritone — on TV and other media.

    “For young Black chefs, he was the Green Book — he could be your personal Green Book,” says private chef and consultant Maurice Wells, a longtime friend and mentee.

    Russell also cooked for celebrity clients, including NBA stars LeBron James and Dwyane Wade, and the rapper formerly known as Kanye West. Chicago’s culinary community is mourning the loss of Russell, who died from natural causes on Saturday, March 30. He was 58. Funeral services were held on Tuesday, April 16 at Calahan Funeral Home in Englewood.

    Wells says his friend knew the importance of being a role model and didn’t care about the costs: “He’d send you an Uber, he’d buy you lunch, he’d go to Restaurant Depot and grab a bunch of things just so you could learn how to properly chop onions to make soup and stock.”

    Julius Russell appeared at food festivals including Chicago Gourmet and Taste of Chicago.
    Maurice Wells

    Born in 1970 at Cook County Hospital and raised in Englewood, Russell spent his career cultivating a persona that reflected his wide range of kitchen experiences. Within him, he espoused, there were two chefs: Chef Julius, a skilled French culinary technician who honed his skill at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris; and “Chef Tiki,” a heartfelt advocate for indulgent comfort food (a value instilled in childhood at his mother’s and grandmothers’ tables) and Creole cuisine, which he studied at the New Orleans School of Cooking.

    “He enjoyed cooking more than many chefs I know,” says Brian Jupiter, the chef and co-owner of Frontier in West Town and Ina Mae Tavern in Wicker Park.

    For more than a decade, Jupiter counted Russell as a friend and collaborator: “Food excited him… When we’d do these menus together, he’d change the menu like 20 times! His mind was always on food and creating.”

    Though he had little interest in the grind of a restaurant kitchen, Russell held pop-ups and cooking demonstrations around town food festivals like Taste of Chicago and Chicago Gourmet. He became a familiar face with TV appearances on Fox 32 Chicago and WGN. he built a following within the athletic community, cooking for pro stars and even appearing on a 2009 episode of The Big Ten Cookout on the Big Ten Network. Though he spoke virtually no Spanish, Russell served as a culinary ambassador, working with the Chilean government from 2013 to 2019 to highlight the country’s food scene in the U.S.

    Wells credits Russell’s late wife, public relations and marketing specialist Jada Russell, for teaching her husband how to share his story and food with the world. She died from breast cancer in 2019 within months of her diagnosis. After his wife’s death, the chef raised funds for cancer research and supporting awareness projects like the American Cancer Society’s Men Wear Pink program.

    Wells and Russell were also writing a book together — a kind of roadmap for young Black chefs — which Wells still plans to complete.

    “When you see people who are as unselfish with knowledge and time as he was, that’s always going to leave a big void,” Jupiter says. “Chefs like myself and the [Virtue chef] Erick Williams of the world, we have to absorb some of that and make sure — even more than we have before — that people feel like they [have someone to] rely on when they feel stuck on their journey in this industry.”

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    Naomi Waxman

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  • Is ‘The Tortured Poets Department’ Taylor Swift’s Most Controversial Album Ever?

    Is ‘The Tortured Poets Department’ Taylor Swift’s Most Controversial Album Ever?

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    At midnight on Friday, Taylor Swift released her 11th album, The Tortured Poets Department—a collection of 16 raw and vulnerable songs, partially about the end of her long-term relationship with Joe Alwyn, but mostly about the emotionally frenetic period that came next, including a high-profile and fraught tryst with the 1975’s Matty Healy, all while Swift was embarking on her massive Eras Tour. Then at 2 a.m. on Friday, Swift dropped another album: TTPD: The Anthology, with 15 more songs. The entire collection, written and produced mostly with Jack Antonoff and Aaron Dessner, runs just over two hours. On the latest Every Single Album, Nora Princiotti and Nathan Hubbard discuss the entire project—their favorite songs, the tracks that didn’t land, her collaborations, and what could be coming next. In this excerpt, Princiotti and Hubbard discuss the midnight release, the huge 2 a.m. surprise, and their reactions to the 31-song album. You can listen to the full conversation here and subscribe for upcoming episodes discussing TTPD.


    Nora Princiotti: I think the thing that made me just feel a little bit, not glum, that’s too much—but where those feelings were coming from was this kernel of worry of, “Oh gosh, Taylor Swift album releases are like a holiday for me. It’s a high holy day on the calendar. Is this one not going to be fun or not going to be as fun?” And I am absolutely here to say to you that I had a really fucking good time.

    Nathan Hubbard: I agree. I thought the same way. And the reason, the pro case for releasing it so late is that all of the riffraff goes to sleep. The real ones are the ones who stay up. And that’s where the social platforms and just all of the back and forth is so much fun because it’s just this—

    Princiotti: The tweets were so good.

    Hubbard: Yes. Yes. As somebody who started at Twitter pre-IPO, whose heart has been broken into pieces, I’m going to write 31 songs about this, about the state of the platform. It served its purpose on Thursday night, early Friday morning. It was wonderful. And you know what? It makes you feel more connected to human beings. It makes you feel less alone. It’s a wonderful experience.

    Princiotti: No, people were getting their jokes off. It was so fun. It was also, it’s just silly that everyone’s up at 2 o’clock in the morning together. I am so happy to say that that experience, which really, since the sort of pandemic-era album, since Folklore, and through the rereleases to some degree but especially with Midnights, with this, the being up really late at night on the internet when everybody’s listening to Taylor Swift is incredibly fun, and it continued to be incredibly fun. So I think that’s a wonderful thing, and I’m very happy that it happened. Anything else in the way of just sort of a vibes check for you right now?

    Hubbard: Exhaustion. Look, Nora, this is her most controversial album since Reputation at least, if not ever. And it comes at a moment of unicorn-level fame and adoration. It comes at a moment where she has the biggest tour in the world; she’s still in the middle of it. Regardless of what critics and fans say, she now has the most streamed album of all time in the first day. She has probably the biggest relationship, most publicly facing relationship in the world right now. And it is kind of an unprecedented test …

    Princiotti: We’ll talk about Travis, don’t you worry.

    Hubbard: … of fame and fan base and critical reception and the music. It’s just this wonderful experiment, but I think what is most interesting about it is it’s not really what I expected, Nora.

    Princiotti: So talk to me about “most controversial,” what you mean by that. The reviews aren’t awesome.

    Hubbard: The reviews aren’t awesome. And I think the controversy starts for me within the fan base because this is a fan base that, much like this podcast, spent years trying to convince other people that this was not just a woman who wrote about breakups but an all-timer in the annals of musical history as a songwriter, as an artist, as a businessperson.

    And that defense gets—I mean, it’s the thing that you and I have struggled with, which is, “Hey, high fives everybody, we won. We were right. We bought Facebook stock early on, and it became the biggest company on the planet. We were in early on it. So now what is interesting about it?” And the fan base’s natural instinct, reflexive instinct is, “Taylor Swift is the best thing ever,” defense, defense, fight, fight, fight. And when she releases so much content, to me, that becomes white noise if you aren’t able to get into the nuance of talking about the actual reception to the art.

    There are a lot of people for whom Midnights was their favorite Taylor Swift album, but now, we’ve got a record that comes at the peak of everything when she’s clearly the best—

    Princiotti: There are a lot of people who didn’t feel that way about Midnights, but—

    Hubbard: There are. There definitely are. But she has been almost criticism-proof from the fan base over this intense period of escape velocity into a level of orbit that candidly has not really been seen before because of the confluence of technology and the internet and everything. So it’s sort of as we haven’t seen this before, and this is the first time that she’s put out music in that context.

    And I think I say “controversy” because when you read between the lines—and there were leaks of this album that came out, and there were fan base wars of the Swifties blaming the Ariana Grande fans for circulating it and MFing the record—it is clear that this is not everybody’s favorite album. And how they talk about it, how they support her and celebrate it while still receiving what I think in some corners is reasonable feedback and constructive criticism in others, is a social experiment in how to take shots at the biggest artist and biggest woman on the planet. How all of those things come together, I think, creates a lot of controversy: how you talk about it, how you criticize it, and how you celebrate it.

    Princiotti: Yeah, no, I mean, look, even definitionally, the most die-hard Taylor Swift fan on the planet, everybody’s got a favorite album. Everybody’s got, even if they wouldn’t phrase it that way, a least favorite album. We all love to rank them. We all have ones that we like better than others.

    I’ll get to how I feel about this one, and we will obviously talk through it. Talking to people over the weekend, I got a lot more, “OK, on second listen, on third listen, I’m getting more into it. Oh, this is interesting. I like this song.” Lot more of that than, “Holy crap, she’s done it again.” There’s a lot more talking yourself into this one.

    And to some degree, that’s because I think it is an album that sort of reveals itself in layers, and it rewards a close read, but it’s not an album that, at least in my group texts and from what I saw online and from how I processed it myself, went, “Oh, holy crap, this is an all-timer.”

    Hubbard: Right.

    Princiotti: That’s not how it struck people, even within the fan base, immediately. The thing that’s interesting to me though—and why I asked you about how you were framing the idea of it being controversial—is that I think the fact that it is so long and just the novelty and the Taylor Swift–iness of it being a double album release, to me, it ended up blunting a little bit of that because there was a moment when I felt like things were gearing up for, “Oh God, everybody’s going to be fighting, and it’s going to be knock-down, drag-out, ‘Taylor Swift is terrible.’ ‘Taylor Swift can’t write a song.’ ‘Taylor Swift is the greatest artist who’s ever lived.’”

    And then, I just think the fact that there’s so much to sort through and that the first two paragraphs of every story are, “Surprise, she had a whole second album ready,” it kind of blunts everything, which is probably for the better. But it’s an interesting dynamic where I feel like there’s so much. The context of how people talk about her on the internet and the inevitable backlash to being the biggest star on the planet, that felt so present. And I felt like a little bit of that got drowned in just the amount of content that’s here. Although maybe that’s because I had a podcast to prepare for in those two hours.

    Hubbard: Yeah. We had 35 hours to prepare for 31 songs; that’s a piece of it. The other piece of the controversy, for me, is, I think you’re right that in private, a lot of people are having these feelings. But in public, the way that the fan base has criticized has either been not at all or in the way that she viscerally strikes out against in multiple places on this record and chastises the fan base for overcontrolling her personal life … and for taking shots that are painful to her.

    Princiotti: Right. That’s the other big part of this: On this record, there is animosity—there’s clear animosity—from Taylor Swift to the people who adore her and who take it upon themselves to fight her battles, real or imagined.

    Hubbard: Correct. And then there is also the critical community that seems to be glomming on—and here, I’m talking about The New Yorker, New York Times, Paste magazine—that are glomming on to the fact that she’s a billionaire and on top of whatever mountain there is that exists of stardom and artistry, and that they’re the cooler-than-thou critics that can’t seem to shake that context and who are dismissing this work as a bit childish. Like, “How can she, at 34, with a billion dollars, still be singing about the same themes?”

    And I personally fall into a different place, and we’ll talk about it, but it is gratitude that we get such insight into the life of a unicorn. I mean, she tells us why she’s still framing the world a bit like this, like the girl in the bleachers from “You Belong With Me.” It’s right there in the pages of these lyrics. She grew up in an asylum. She was a precocious child, and sometimes that means you don’t grow up. She tells us that. But after six years of, as she referenced in “Bejeweled,” being in the basement, it’s helpful context around the profile of this antihero that we’ve been twittering about but who hasn’t actually given us that much insight behind the scenes into what’s been going on over those last six or seven years.

    Princiotti: In a while. I do think that there’s a distinction between some of the reflexive, “Well, she’s a billionaire. Why isn’t she grateful?” Which, I don’t even really begrudge people that response, I just don’t care. And a different version of it, which is a little bit more resonant to me, is, “For all that she has and all that she’s accomplished,”—and she did this with Apple Music as well; Spotify signs my paychecks, great service, use it every day—the fact that the logos are on every little piece of the rollout and the question of, “Why, when you have all this power, have all this ability, don’t you use some of it to not have to do this?” That, to me, is a much more fair question than, “When you have all you have, why are you still talking about your problems?”

    Hubbard: Right. The corporatization of this rollout was a little eh, for me.

    Princiotti: Yeah.

    Hubbard: And that, I understand it. And look, to frame it this way, she has fought forever—

    Princiotti: And it’s not new, by the way. I mean—

    Hubbard: It’s not.

    Princiotti: Taylor Swift’s face was on the side of UPS trucks for years. It’s just that it takes on a different—

    Hubbard: Diet Coke, Capital One commercials. I frame it this way. She’s fought for years to get control of her business. She now owns her art outright. There is a Taylor Swift touring logo on the posters. She is a businessman, to borrow from Jay-Z. And when you have achieved that, it’s not just enough to control it. The point of controlling it is when you are one of the largest consumer-facing brands on the planet, it’s to actually then go be the businessperson that you are and make the most of that control and that ownership because you get to make choices about how you market your art.

    There is something to the fact that she’s marketing her art with those partners, but it’s not lost on me: She put out the YouTube Shorts video [Friday] night, interestingly, at the same time that she released her music video. The YouTube Short is this cute video of Travis mauling her while she’s cooking. And it was sort of an interesting choice to release that at the same time that she put out a self-directed video where we’re supposed to believe she might make out with Post Malone. I was like, I might not have put out the wonderful, sort of behind-the-scenes moment of you and your boyfriend at the same time that is clearly a very real moment and then try to get me to believe that you’re going to make out with Post.

    Princiotti: I thought she and Post Malone had some chemistry.

    Hubbard: Well, we’ll talk about that, fine.

    Princiotti: I also love the tweets where it has her with the face tats and not with the face tats and it says Pre Malone, Post Malone.

    Hubbard: But she did the Spotify thing. She did the Apple playlist thing. She even put her music back on TikTok and created a TikTok experience. … She’s entitled now that she’s fought for this control and gone through everything that she has to get that control to now show us when you are the CEO, you get to make these kinds of decisions, and here’s how you actually market your art. I mean, it is—

    Princiotti: Yeah, I don’t think that she’s not entitled to any of this; she’s totally entitled to it.

    Hubbard: It’s just ick. Is it ick for you? Does it rise to that level?

    Princiotti: It’s not really quite ick. It’s on the ick spectrum. I’m just like, … you have earned all this power; it is yours to exercise however you want. I am a little bit questioning why the choice of how to exercise that is to slap a bunch of logos on everything.

    Hubbard: There are two things that it indicates. I mean, either number one, she didn’t want to step on a lot of music that’s being released by her peers this spring. And I think the campaign and the shortness of it could be a reflection of not stepping on Maggie [Rogers], who put out her record [last week]; of not stepping on Ariana; of Billie putting something up; Sabrina Carpenter putting up “Espresso,” which is now going into the stratosphere. She kind of contained the promotion.

    It also might have been quietly a reflex from the criticism that we ourselves gave her about the way she introduced this album onstage at the Grammys that sucked the air out of the room. And it was a pretty commercial moment in what was ostensibly a celebration of creativity. So there’s that piece, which was, maybe this was as much optically about staying in a lane so as not to step on some peers that she cares about.

    But secondly, it also might just be a reflection of our attention span and the ever-scrolling, move-on, TikTok-ization of people’s brains that she just feels like, “A week is all I can do, guys. A week is the only amount of time you’re really going to pay attention to me. So I’m going to show up with Travis at Coachella. We’re going to support Lana and Jack and everybody else and then Jungle,” Travis’s new favorite band. “And then we’re going to do a week of a few installations. I’m going to send you on a snipe hunt around the world on a crazy scavenger hunt. But that’s all we’re doing. And that’s for the crazies. The rest of it’s coming, and popular culture is going to break through and put this in front of you. And you’re either going to like it or you don’t.”

    This excerpt was edited for clarity.

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    Nora Princiotti

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  • The best sci-fi movies to watch on Netflix this April

    The best sci-fi movies to watch on Netflix this April

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    Greetings, Polygon readers!

    This weekend sees the release of not one, but two sci-fi epics in the form of Dune: Part Two and Rebel Moon Part Two: The Scargiver on VOD and streaming. If neither of those strikes your fancy, don’t worry; we’ve once again descended into the backlog of Netflix’s streaming library to bring you a trio of the best sci-fi movies to watch in April.

    This month’s picks include John Carpenter’s 1984 sci-fi body-horror romance starring Jeff Bridges, an underrated post-apocalyptic blockbuster about mobile city fortresses duking it out for resources, and an anime adaptation of a cult-classic cyberpunk manga.

    Let’s take a look at what this month has to offer!


    Editor’s pick: Starman

    Image: Sony Pictures Home Entertainment

    Director: John Carpenter
    Cast: Jeff Bridges, Karen Allen, Charles Martin Smith

    The pitch “John Carpenter’s version of Close Encounters” conjures a far different image for fans of the Halloween director than what his 1984 film Starman turned out to be. The film kicks off with a sleek spaceship descending upon Earth in a frame not too far off from the opening of The Thing. There’s even a bit of body horror: When the alien creeps into the home of the recently widowed Jenny (Karen Allen), the entity uses bits of DNA of her deceased husband to recast his corporeal self — growing from baby to toddler to teen to adult Jeff Bridges in mere seconds. It’s sick! Then Carpenter gets all mushy in his most romantic film to date.

    Starman is a sci-fi film through and through — the alien visits our planet after intercepting Voyager 2’s golden disc, and its arrival sparks a classic Spielbergian cat-and-mouse game between bumbling feds and the on-the-lam ET — but in having the alien assume the form of Jenny’s dead husband, Carpenter burrows deeper into human mortality than these screen stories tend to go. Allen, spiraling in an impossible situation, and Bridges, mixing his alien’s hyperintelligence with childlike wonder, have the chemistry to make a silly story sing. Jenny knows the man in her passenger seat isn’t her husband, but he is a second chance. Carpenter mines the dreamlike premise for all the sap, leaning on Jack Nitzsche’s unforgettable score to swell at just the right moments. Starman is pure Hollywood romance, and proof that boxing a director into one genre is the quickest way to limit greatness. —Matt Patches


    Mortal Engines

    A building mounted atop giant wheels races across a green field with a larger mobile fortress visible in the background.

    Image: Universal Pictures Home Entertainment

    Director: Christian Rivers
    Cast: Hera Hilmar, Robert Sheehan, Hugo Weaving

    An underrated post-apocalyptic blockbuster from many of the people who made the Lord of the Rings movies, Mortal Engines was a box-office bomb but deserved much better. Set in a future where cities are mobile and big cities hunt smaller ones, the story follows a young assassin (Hera Hilmar) who seeks to take out a power-hungry leader (Hugo Weaving). Along the way, she finds allies (Jihae) and maybe even a bit of love (Robert Sheehan).

    But the characters or narrative aren’t Mortal Engines main selling point (although Weaving does fully and delightfully commit to an over-the-top villainous performance). Instead, it’s the fantastic production design and creative world-building that make Mortal Engines feel like a breath of fresh air in the sequel/prequel/remake-heavy sci-fi blockbuster landscape. Now that it’s newly on Netflix, check out one of the 2010s’ most undeserved flops. —Pete Volk

    Blame!

    A black-haired anime man in a black suit standing in front of a charred, melted heap of metal grating in Blame!.

    Image: Polygon Pictures/Netflix

    Director: Hiroyuki Seshita
    Cast: Takahiro Sakurai, Kana Hanazawa, Sora Amamiya

    Alongside the likes of H.R. Giger and Shinya Tsukamoto, Tsutomu Nihei is one of the most prolific artists associated with the subgenre of posthuman science fiction, emphasizing horrific man-machine hybrids and massive, desolate worlds set in the far future.

    Nihei’s 1997 manga Blame! is inarguably his magnum opus — a post-apocalyptic cyberpunk saga about a mysterious warrior known as “Killy” wandering the metallic wastelands of an Earth overrun by a techno-organic virus. Adapted into a feature-length anime by director Hiroyuki Seshita (Knights of Sidonia), Blame! streamlines the manga’s story into a single adventure in Killy’s quest to find a means of undoing the virus that has reshaped the world and endangered humanity’s last remaining descendents.

    While the film loses some of the evocative, wordless melancholy of the manga in its translation from page to screen, it lacks none of the scale and depth of its world-building and vistas. The action is punishing and electrifying, as Killy contends with monstrous killer androids and a ruthless antagonist hellbent on killing as many impure humans (i.e., everyone) as possible. Blame! is a worthy adaptation of the source material, as well as a worthwhile watch for anyone who considers themself a fan of dark sci-fi animation. —Toussaint Egan

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    Toussaint Egan

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  • ‘X-Men ’97’ Episodes 4-6 Deep Dive

    ‘X-Men ’97’ Episodes 4-6 Deep Dive

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    “The name’s Gambit, mon ami … remember it!” Mal and Jo are back to continue their X-Men ’97 deep dive by breaking down episodes 4-6. They discuss the stakes of the show (18:30) and explain why shame plays such a key role (56:40). Plus, they cover every romance and go over all that happened in the middle three episodes (78:37).

    Hosts: Mallory Rubin and Joanna Robinson
    Producer: Mike Wargon
    Additional Production: Arjuna Ramgopal
    Social: Jomi Adeniran

    Subscribe: Spotify / Apple Podcasts / Stitcher / Pandora / Google Podcasts

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    Mallory Rubin

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  • A Crazy Week in Bravoland! Plus, Our Most Robust Series of Recaps Ever.

    A Crazy Week in Bravoland! Plus, Our Most Robust Series of Recaps Ever.

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    Rachel Lindsay and Callie Curry kick off this week’s jumbo-sized Morally Corrupt with an in-depth guide to the seemingly endless stream of news coming from the Bravosphere this week (4:50). They then talk about the conclusion of the Real Housewives of Potomac Season 8 reunion (17:04). Later, Rachel and Callie dive into Season 2, Episode 4 of Summer House: Martha’s Vineyard (33:52), as well as Season 8, Episode 9 of Summer House (49:52). Finally, Rachel is joined by Jodi Walker to recap Season 1, Episode 5 of The Valley (1:10:31) and Season 11, Episode 12 of Vanderpump Rules (1:36:25).

    Host: Rachel Lindsay
    Guests: Callie Curry and Jodi Walker
    Producer: Devon Baroldi
    Theme Song: Devon Renaldo

    Subscribe: Spotify

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    Rachel Lindsay

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  • At This Chicago Dive Bar, Matzo Ball Soup Is the Malort Chaser of Choice

    At This Chicago Dive Bar, Matzo Ball Soup Is the Malort Chaser of Choice

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    Chris and Calvin Marty, the owners behind Best Intentions, say they “don’t make a big deal” that they’re Jewish. The brothers, who opened their Logan Square bar in 2015, grew up in Cambridge, Wisconsin, a village about 60 miles west of Milwaukee and with a population of about 1,600. Less than 1 percent of Wisconsin’s population is Jewish, per a 2020 study from Brandeis University.

    ”We probably experience a little private guilt that maybe we’re not the best Jews — we never went to temple, we never had bar mitzvahs,” says Chris Marty.

    The bar’s menu definitely contains some decidedly unkosher items like the Cuppa Shrimp with mild sauce, a gnarly cheeseburger, and red wine-braised short rib. The harissa chicken provides another nod to the Middle East. But tucked within the menu lies a surprise — matzo ball soup — and a great version at that, with a rich broth darkened by duck fat yet brightened by heavenly wafts of ginger and lemongrass.

    Yes — a place like this uses duck fat for its matzo ball soup.

    In Chicago, it’s not especially hard to find a bowl of matzo ball soup, as a basic version appears on the menu of every self-respecting Jewish deli in town. But in recent years, the dish has begun to spring up in some unexpected places, too, including while perched on a bar stool on a rainy Friday in Logan Square and double-fisting a dirty martini. Best Intentions manages to channel the best of Wisconsin dives and serve fun, well-executed bar food. It was immediately clear that whoever created Best Intentions had spent some time in Wisconsin’s many unironic watering holes like River’s End in rural Ontario.

    “In Jewish American food, the two big things are matzo ball soup and bagels – what’s more ubiquitous than the two of those?” posits Zach Engel, chef and owner of Michelin-starred Israeli and Middle Eastern restaurant Galit in Lincoln Park. Even his mother, an unenthusiastic home cook, makes a “pretty killer” version for family holiday meals: “As far as representations of Jewish culture, [matzo ball soup] makes us look pretty good.”

    Best Intentions reopened in 2023 after a three-year hiatus.

    A group of three women smile and talk at the bar.

    A dollop of burrata and beans.

    This burrata with white bean anchoïade shows the ambition at this dive bar.

    A griddled cheeseburger in a paper bag with fries and a can of pickle beer.

    Cheeseburger (Land O’ Lakes white American cheese, dill pickles, joppiesaus).

    Matzo ball soup was once on the menu at Galit, but Engel hasn’t served it since the pandemic began as the restaurant has shifted to a four-course menu of shared dishes; soup is difficult to share. Nevertheless, Engel says he’s watched with interest as more restaurants work to attract diners with unexpected food while simultaneously tapping into a feeling of cozy familiarity. “Matzo ball soup is a super straightforward way to get people to feel a level of comfort in their heart, but it’s still interesting,” he says.

    Though their exact origin is hazy, the proliferation of matzo balls — a simple mixture of matzo meal, beaten eggs, water, and schmaltz, or chicken fat — is generally attributed to German, Austrian, and Alsatian Jews who adapted regional Eastern European soup dumplings to suit Jewish dietary laws. No matter its history, the matzo ball’s simplicity also means that even unenthusiastic home cooks can deliver a version that will please a crowd.

    The mixture is formed into balls (as usual, there’s debate over the supremacy of fluffy “floaters” or toothsome “sinkers”) and simmered in boiling water or even better, soup stock, until they swell into spongy spheres. Given the relatively small number of American Jews — about 7.6 million, or 2.4 percent of the total U.S. population, and a mere 319,600 in the Chicago area, according to the same Brandeis study — Ashkenazi-style Jewish deli cuisine has made an outsized impact on mainstream American culture in general, from corned beef on St. Patrick’s Day to Meg Ryan’s infamous faux-gasm in rom-com icon When Harry Met Sally.

    A bowl of matzo ball soup.

    Best Intentions chef Bryan McClaran had never tried matzo ball soup before making it.

    As a child, Chris Marty was close to his great-grandmother, Hannah Westler, who fled antisemitism in Europe around the turn of the century and immigrated to Milwaukee, where she worked “14,000 jobs” to put her sons through law school. The brothers grew up eating her matzo ball soup, which she made from a recipe featuring a special twist: vodka. Years later, her boozy invention would inspire them to create a matzo ball cocktail for a local bartending challenge, an exercise that rekindled their connection to their family’s past.

    Though he’d heard of it before, Best Intentions chef Bryan McClaran, who’s worked at the Cambodian restaurant Hermosa and the Asian-influenced Bixi Beer, hadn’t actually tried matzo ball soup when his bosses pitched the idea. Research involved YouTube videos, cookbooks, and some New York Times articles from the ’80s, and in the end, the first version he wound up tasting was his own. Together, the brothers and McClaran worked to hone a recipe that would be worthy of the history it represented.

    “The big thing for us, other than nailing the consistency of the matzo ball, was not to goy it up with dill,” Chris Marty chuckles. “Anywhere we go with my mom, if there’s matzo ball soup, we’ll order it. She’s always like, ‘Why do the goys have to load it up with so much fucking dill?’”

    “Matzo balls aren’t going anywhere”

    It’s a Saturday in March at nearly 18-year-old deli Eleven City Diner, and owner Brad Rubin is holding court from a roomy booth inside his South Loop deli-diner hybrid. Founded in 2006 as an ode to casual midcentury hospitality, the restaurant, which at one point had a Lincoln Park location, has endured long enough to become a pillar of Chicago’s Jewish culinary scene while attracting non-Jews with a retro aesthetic and plentiful plates of food.

    Rubin bursts with pride as he recounts his family’s Ashkenazi immigrant history and explains the meaning behind each photograph, vinyl record, and painting on its walls. His clear, resonant voice rings out as he bids farewell to customers (he learns all of their names) and jokes with employees.

    It’s also impossible to ignore that at least a cup, if not a bowl, of matzo ball soup can be found on half the tables. The broth is light but not additive-yellow, with fluffy-yet-firm matzo balls noteworthy for both their ample size and distinctive green flecks of parsley, mostly for color. However one feels about parsley, the diner’s version serves well as a baseline matzo ball soup — uncomplicated, nostalgic, and reminiscent of a bubbe’s concoction with slightly more polish. There are no surprises in Eleven City’s bowl, and in this way, it’s a stark contrast to McClaran’s melange of elegant aromatics and ducky character at Best Intentions.

    People sit on stools beside a long, low-lit bar with checkerboard flooring.

    Rubin’s resonant tone, however, drops to a hush as he admits Eleven City hasn’t had kreplach since COVID began. The diners who used to order it have since moved out to the suburbs, he says. Kreplach are small and plump dumplings stuffed with fillings like meat and mashed potatoes — cousins to Polish pierogi, Russian pelmeni, Italian stuffed pasta, and Chinese jiaozi. The difference between matzo balls and kreplach is mostly negligible, but, according to Rubin’s numbers, the gap in sales was significant. “Matzo balls aren’t going anywhere,” Rubin affirms.

    Indeed, in recent years they’ve also cropped up on the menu at seemingly random spots like Armitage Ale House, Lincoln Park’s British pub from Au Cheval owner Hogsalt Hospitality. In West Town, chef Zoe Schor also served a pepper-laden matzo ball soup at Split-Rail, which she closed in late 2023. Schor isn’t shy about her Jewish American identity but the restaurant, a neighborhood hit known for fried chicken, was never positioned as a particularly Jewish spot. But for Schor, the soup was about something bigger than Split-Rail – its presence marked a broader movement among chefs seeking to connect with their own background.

    “I feel like in terms of the zeitgeist of becoming classically trained and cooking the food you grew up eating, Ashkenazi Jewish culinary traditions were a little later to hit the trends,” she says. She’s been happy to see the ripple effects manifest in spots like Russ & Daughters, the 110-year-old New York appetizing store that launched a wildly successful cafe in 2014. “I think it’s very cool and important that we continue these traditions and the conversation.”

    The early 2010s saw a matzo ball revolution of sorts, arguably ushered in by the 2013 debut of Shalom Japan, a Brooklyn restaurant where chefs Aaron Israel and Sawako Okochi have made a major splash with their matzo ball ramen. In Chicago, some had the audacity to suggest adding jalapeno, and in 2020, the short-lived restaurant Rye in West Loop made matzo balls with blue corn masa. The dish has come a long way in, at least in the canon of Jewish culinary history, a very short time. But by its very nature, matzo ball soup is relevant not due to its ingredients, but rather, the sensory and emotional experiences it evokes.

    A ladle pours broth from a bot into a bowl.

    A bowl of matzo ball soup with carrots, parsley, and celery.

    It’s difficult to pin down why exactly matzo ball soup has risen to such a cross-cultural level of notoriety. But a look back at the soup’s lore in the U.S. may shed some light. Take Marilyn Monroe and Arthur Miller — please. It’s hard to imagine a worse pairing than the legendary Hollywood sex symbol and the Jewish Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright who devoted much of his career to shedding light on the American everyman.

    As the story goes, the couple frequently dined at the home of Miller’s mother, Isadore, who served a lot of matzo ball soup. They ate it so much that at one point, Monroe reportedly quipped, “Isn’t there any other part of the matzo you can eat?”

    With that, a star was born and the humble, homely matzo ball was catapulted into American pop-culture history.

    In the wake of the Holocaust, the mid-1950s (the couple married in 1956) was an unusually optimistic era for American Jews, who began to enter the middle class and seek higher education. For the first time, the American public was exposed to stories like Oscar-winning 1947 film Gentleman’s Agreement, which starred cinematic icon Gregory Peck as a non-Jewish reporter who poses as a Jew to research an exposé on antisemitism.

    Despite ongoing institutionalized discrimination at universities and social hubs like country clubs, American Jews at the time saw broader social acceptance than perhaps in any other millennia of Jewish history. And suddenly, that cultural validation reached new heights. Monroe, the blonde bombshell herself, was eating matzo balls too, lending mainstream credibility to a tradition that’s endured in Chicago and across the country well beyond Miller and Monroe’s marriage, which lasted less than five years.

    Though reluctant to get “too high-minded” about what it means to serve Jewish food in a non-Jewish context, for Chris Marty, it points to a desire to push back on a national political shift toward exclusion. “I think society is pretty shitty right now,” he says. “People are highly intolerant and very insular… The beauty of the bar and restaurant industry — especially in Chicago — is that you have that willingness to just love it if it’s good.”

    A crowd clusters around a bar corner in a low-lit space.

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    Naomi Waxman

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  • Apple Gets Into the Franchise Business, the Penultimate Episode of ‘Shogun,’ and ‘Ripley’ Episodes 4 and 5

    Apple Gets Into the Franchise Business, the Penultimate Episode of ‘Shogun,’ and ‘Ripley’ Episodes 4 and 5

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    Chris and Andy talk about the news that Apple TV will be making a For All Mankind spinoff called Star City, and adapting another one of Mick Herron’s novels (author of Slow Horses) for a show starring Emma Thompson (1:00). Then, they talk about an article in Harper’s that looks at the role private equity firms have played in the TV industry over the past decade (13:38), before discussing the penultimate episode of Shogun (29:07) and Episodes 4 and 5 of Ripley (59:09).

    Read the Harper’s piece here.

    Hosts: Chris Ryan and Andy Greenwald
    Producer: Kaya McMullen

    Subscribe: Spotify / Apple Podcasts / Stitcher / RSS

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    Chris Ryan

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  • End of the Warriors, Knicks’ Ceiling, Zion, and Lillard’s Future With Frank Isola. Plus, Comedian Dan Soder.

    End of the Warriors, Knicks’ Ceiling, Zion, and Lillard’s Future With Frank Isola. Plus, Comedian Dan Soder.

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    Russillo opens the show with his thoughts on the play-in games and the end of the Warriors dynasty (0:34). Then, Frank Isola joins to explain what went wrong for Golden State, share which eliminated team needs to hit the reset button, and discuss the Knicks’ ceiling (18:44). Next, comedian Dan Soder comes on to share why he chose comedy and details how jokes are created (55:13). Plus, Ceruti and Kyle join for Life Advice (89:51). How do we kick the bad player out of our pick-up games?

    Check us out on Youtube for exclusive clips, live streams, and more at https://www.youtube.com/@RyenRussilloPodcast

    The Ringer is committed to responsible gaming. Please check out rg-help.com to find out more, or listen to the end of the episode for additional details.

    Host: Ryen Russillo
    Guests: Frank Isola and Dan Soder
    Producers: Steve Ceruti, Kyle Crichton, and Mike Wargon

    Subscribe: Spotify / Apple Podcasts / RSS

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    Ryen Russillo

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  • Into the Tubi-Verse

    Into the Tubi-Verse

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    In May 2015, Netflix’s movie library was approaching 5,000 titles. A dramatic contraction ensued soon thereafter: By 2017, that number had nearly halved. The library is now about a third smaller than it was at peak size. There are plenty of reasons for this change, but the two primary ones are that the long-tail value of “as much cinematic and television history as you can afford to host” wasn’t tremendous and that Netflix gradually realized that it’s more specifically in the business of production and curation.

    Evidently, it was right on both counts. Netflix is the giant of its industry and has grown only more dominant over time. It has hundreds of millions of paying subscribers, exclusive rights to many of its most valuable properties, and the power and reach to turn Suits into a sensation. To understand the gold standard of the modern entertainment media industry, look no further: Netflix leads the way in scale, interface, and accessibility.

    But we are not here today to discuss the peak of success, exemplified by a so-called “frictionless” entertainment product. Consider, instead, an entity that has taken the opposite path in most ways: Tubi, a platform that costs no money, is cluttered with obscure advertisements, produces unwatchable trash, offers a library of roughly 200,000 movies and TV episodes, and—with a crude algorithm and limited search function—is extremely difficult to navigate. Tubi is many times the size of Netflix in terms of offerings, but it’s not even 10 percent as utilized in terms of streaming hours. In general, people would rather pay a premium to be aggressively catered to than bother with something so unwieldy and unrefined.

    Tubi is, however, growing in popularity. Launched in 2014, it has progressed from a vague slush pile—something akin to the discount DVD bin at Walmart circa 2002—into more of a stimulating, treasure-laden maze for real heads seeking a hit of cinematic surprise that more carefully manicured collections can’t offer. Last year, the company announced that it had about 74 million monthly active users. It has surpassed more costly options like Paramount+ and Peacock and isn’t far behind Disney+. “These FAST channels are kind of having a moment,” says J.D. Connor, a professor of cinematic arts at the University of Southern California. “Tubi has positioned itself as explicitly the Gen Z version of these [free streamers]. They’re adamant that this is not a kind of play for the cheap old people who just want to watch old shows that they’re familiar with. And their recent rebrand reeks of a marketing firm that told them, ‘This is the Gen Z appeal” … They were absolutely willing to spend time and money on a rebrand that would make it clear that this is a younger demographic project.”

    Tubi appeals to more than just zoomers, though, and there’s significant overlap between its users and those who pay for Netflix, Hulu, Max, Peacock, or any of the other formidable paid-subscription streaming entities. Since 83 percent of Americans pay for at least one streaming service, how couldn’t there be? Despite their very real and regular investments elsewhere, they still hold space for Tubi—because something about its delights is so singular.

    Part of it is certainly how it approximates the foregone experience of combing through an oversized video store, or trawling the depths of cable broadcasting, and finding in that morass of mediocrity a gem of screen history and vision. Some things feel better when you have to work for them—though, if you don’t want to work too hard, know that Tubi is currently streaming Barry Lyndon, A Fistful of Dynamite, La Belle Noiseuse, Doctor Zhivago, In the Heat of the Night, Blue Velvet, Raging Bull, Red River, The Great Escape, The Apartment, The Night of the Hunter, and Thief, among probably dozens more stone-cold classics that you’ll have to get on your own digital hands and knees to locate. Floating in this bloated pool of chum is genuine gold, some of the best movies ever made. Tubi has several masterworks by Japanese auteur Yasujiro Ozu. Tubi has Ingmar Bergman. And, if you scroll just two rows down after searching “Ingmar Bergman,” you’ll find a ridiculous-looking 2017 comedy called Obamaland Part 1: Rise of the Trumpublikans. Like many great thrift stores, Tubi is disorganized.

    It would be wrong to argue that Tubi’s primary appeal is that it has good movies. Instead, its primary appeal is that it has lots of movies, and its budget-minded anti-curation approach to arranging them enhances a sense of odyssey. “When you’ve got the rights to that many titles, it’s not about frictionlessness,” Connor says. “It’s about strangeness and happenstance. You do have to go look for things.”

    Offerings more pleasurable than fantastic cinema, for many Tubi heads, are the curious misses. Not total failures, per se; not terrible movies—though there are plenty of those on Tubi—but the pictures just a few shades shy of any kind of remembrance. They’re all here at one point or another. Like 1994’s Wolf, an uneven Jack Nicholson vehicle that can’t quite achieve its aspirational balance of contemporary publishing-industry satire and mythic werewolf saga but occasionally achieves unreasonable amounts of beauty. Hart’s War is a 2002 World War II character drama with Colin Farrell and Terrence Howard about American racism traveling with the troops to Germany. It’s a movie that seems, at times, to approach greatness but ends without memorable incident. Rush is a grimy cop thriller with an original soundtrack by Eric Clapton. It was the movie that debuted one of his biggest hits, “Tears in Heaven,” but it wasn’t one of the dozen or so movies from 1991 that stuck to any canon. Not a classic, not compellingly bad, not a cult favorite. Just a movie that once came out and now has nowhere to go but here.

    Same for the forgotten Brannigan of 1975, one of John Wayne’s last movies. In it, Wayne plays a Chicago cop of questionable ethics, sent to England to extradite a roaming gangster. AARP John Wayne is turgid, lazily reciting the screenplay’s fish-out-of-water wit, but he’s still his eminently watchable self. Then there’s Crazy Joe (1974), a mobster tale with an especially cartoonish Peter Boyle, who, deep Tubi crawlers will learn, was a real movie star before he was the mean grandpa on Everybody Loves Raymond. So was the sourly cherubic Rod Steiger, who’s all over the service; both are conventionally unattractive men, skilled at playing unpleasant characters—once a formula for A-list success. Tubi remembers that.

    It remembers the ostracized, as well. At times, it looks like a clearinghouse for canceled filmmakers. There is an abundance of the less-esteemed Woody Allen and Roman Polanski movies, and tons of Mel Gibson. While other services might be considering whether or not to prominently feature bigots or sex criminals in their fare, Tubi lacks sensitivity readers in its curation—or anything else that would be an enemy of affordability and volume. The service puts you in the sometimes uncomfortable position of deciding whether these exiled men should retain their grip on posterity. That’s definitely more incidental than purposeful, though—the controlling idea here is a business built around the remainders market, the movie version of books that distributors are not sure whether to try to resell or just pulp and recycle. “Tubi is part of Fox [since its acquisition in 2020], which is a super strange company now,” Connor says. “It doesn’t have its movie studio, and it doesn’t have the giant Fox catalog—that’s why The Simpsons are over on Disney+. What it basically has is its linear network, which lives and dies by the NFL, and its declining cable channels. … And then they’ve got Tubi.”

    The result is less of a house style and more of an endless churn of cinematic penny stocks. It’s intellectual property arbitrage, an audiovisual flea market of which none of its organizers really understand the breadth and abnormality. The company’s philosophy seems to be that if you build a “video store the size of today,” people will come, and they will sort it out for themselves.

    What Tubi does ostensibly pay a little more intentionality to is its original programming offerings. Since 2021, it’s released a new movie of its own roughly once per week. Most of them are bad, and obviously so from the titles alone: Titanic 666, Most Wanted Santa, Deadly Cheer Mom, Twisted House Sitter, Terror Train, Pastacolypse, The Lurking Fear. It’s mostly horror and thriller shlock, junk food for people who just need their screens to produce colors and noise. Only a handful of them even have blue text on Wikipedia—the rest are if-a-tree-falls-in-a-forest fare, movies that could easily be ignored by their no-name casts for the rest of their lives and never get asked about. Their production quality is well below that of Lifetime or Hallmark. As one social media post put it: “Tubi outta control I just seen me at the gas station in one of the movies.” There is a growing audience for these outrageously bad selections, predicated on a gleeful embrace of the awful. An extremely optimistic view on this trend: Many powerful art movements begin with hard, formal limitations, and the resulting absurdities of Tubi’s anemic production crunch for originals—curving bullets, casually slain children, galling continuity errors—might one day look like the seeds of a bold, new visual language.

    This slop runs a wide range demographically, but specific attention has been paid to the works made by, and starring, Black Americans. Most of these more memorable, viral hits—like All I Want Is You 2—are not actually produced by Tubi, just hosted there, but they’ve come to characterize the platform in a colloquial sense, regardless. “Is this a kind of populist creativity finding a way into the world or just a business exploiting an underserved audience to pump out cheap ‘content’?” asks Niela Orr in The New York Times. “Are these movies furthering Black representation in their own oddball ways or embarrassing us with lowbrow clichés?” Modern urban literature legend Quan Millz, known for titles like This Hoe Got Roaches in Her Crib and Pregnant by My Granddaddy’s Boyfriend, inspires similar questions, and he sees in this section of Tubi an entrepreneurial opening: In 2023, he started a GoFundMe to finance an adaptation of his book Old THOT Next Door made specifically for Tubi. Whether or not the artistic confluence is ever formalized, it’s clear that at least the shadow of a distinct Tubi style has emerged, intentionally or not. (To date, the page has raised $482.)

    A slightly more expensive instance of Tubi’s productions was 2022’s Corrective Measures, starring Michael Rooker (Yondu, from the Guardians of the Galaxy movies), Tom Cavanagh (Ed in NBC’s Ed from 2000 to 2004), and Bruce Willis (in one of his last movies after being diagnosed with aphasia). It is depressing to see Willis so lacking his signature stoic pizzazz, and also to behold this movie in general. There is a special anomie one feels when watching someone really go for it in a broken context, as Cavanagh and Rooker do. The latter gives his dialogue more energy than its writers did, leaning into lines like “you fucking fuckface fucker.” Cavanagh plays someone named Gordon Tweedy, or “the Conductor,” who nearly breaks out of what’s supposed to be the world’s most secure prison by channeling electricity through his body. Though he gives it admirable effort, Cavanagh cannot perform his way through the small special-effects budget in this moment. And the so-called über-prison looks an awful lot like an abandoned elementary school.

    Tragically low quality might not always be Tubi’s trademark, though. Especially if it keeps doing shrewd things, like the recent decision to be the American distributor for the BBC series Boarders. The show, a charming and insightful coming-of-age story about Black students in England’s predominantly white prep school system, has received praise from Variety, Time, and The Guardian, and in America it will be labeled a Tubi Original. Acquiring the series is, obviously, a lot less expensive than making it, but to many, it will look like the Tubi machine is getting sleeker. Tubi’s exclusives also include a lot of low-effort Vice and TMZ programming, true crime documentaries, and an animated series called The Freak Brothers, featuring the voices of Pete Davidson, Woody Harrelson, and John Goodman in a Rip Van Winkle affair about three siblings who really like to smoke weed and get into modern high jinks, just as they did back in the ’60s. In addition, they’ve got broadcast rights to the NBA’s farm system, the G League; random short-form documentaries about many classic rock albums, such as Steely Dan’s Aja and the Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds; cartoons about all of the Old Testament and New Testament; full HBO telecasts of old boxing matches; and hundreds of live TV channels.

    In aggregate, these channels are like if the C-tier of a cable TV subscription was free. A lot of it is retro: 24-hour sports highlights from yore; channels that play only Johnny Carson, The Carol Burnett Show, Baywatch, Mystery Science Theater 3000, and The Rifleman. There are game shows galore, and talk shows, and home improvement shows. Plus various local versions of Fox from throughout the country. You can watch the news live from Bakersfield, Detroit, or D.C. Why not?! And, as always, there are diamonds in the rough—turn to the Warner Bros. “At the Movies” channel and you can catch Stanley Kubrick and Akira Kurosawa back-to-back.

    “There was this moment when we thought that streaming was going to make the long tail valuable. That was the sort of utopian moment at the beginning of all of this,” Connor says. “And then we got rid of that idea. There was just not enough oomph in the long tail to make it profitable. The assumption was: Maybe only certain things held an audience. But what the fast channels suggest, again, is that the long tail does have value. And if you’re good at it, it is a decent business in a world where inflation is persistent.”

    It’s especially good business when it’s free. At the moment, there’s no way to pay for Tubi, and no (legal) way around its frequently recurring ads. And, yes, because the service is less than premium, the ads can get repetitive. “The Mazda CX-30 commercial is the bane of my existence. I hate it,” says a user on r/TubiTV. Whether this is a flaw or part of its eccentricity is up to you.

    What isn’t up for debate is that Tubi offers the widest range of possibilities of any streaming service out there right now. One person’s ironic Blaxploitation revival hub is another’s Criterion Lite, which is still another’s midnight-on-TBS-in-1997 reenactment machine, and still someone else’s best place to watch mediocre stuff from the ’60s and ’70s before diving into the world’s biggest archive of made-for-TV crap. The more that people realize how broad and stimulating its offerings are, the more likely Tubi is to impact the future of streaming. It might not be on purpose, but Tubi has built a kingdom of accessibility and weirdness that could start to make its competitors look overly staid and unnecessarily expensive. Netflix wants to bring you the perfect show in the perfect amount of time. But what if, in a world where the totality of all media ever is theoretically within reach, there’s more joy to be found in the hard work of manually navigating a catalog that’s as vast as it is beguiling?

    John Wilmes is a writer and professor in Chicago. Follow him on Twitter at @johnwilmeswords.

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    John Wilmes

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  • 10 Most Memorable Dystopian Movies

    10 Most Memorable Dystopian Movies

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    Inspired by the release of ‘Civil War,’ Adam Nayman reflects on some of the most iconic dystopian movies

    With the release of Alex Garland’s Civil War, Ringer contributor Adam Nayman looks back at some of the most memorable movies that depict a dystopian future.

    Written by: Adam Nayman
    Produced by: Chia Hao Tat

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    Adam Nayman

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  • Who is Miquella in Elden Ring anyway?

    Who is Miquella in Elden Ring anyway?

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    Elden Ring: Shadow of the Erdtree will send players on a new journey this summer to the Land of Shadow, where they will learn more about one of the game’s most mysterious demigods, Miquella of the Haligtree.

    Game director Hidetaka Miyazaki says that players will track Miquella on their journey through the Land of Shadow, “tracing his path and following in his footsteps, trying to see what he’s going to do there,” similar to how players followed the light of grace in the base game. Players will also discover what compelled Queen Marika, who shattered the Elden Ring in the game’s story, to visit the Land of Shadow.

    Elden Ring players who haven’t pored over the bits of lore scattered throughout the game’s dialogue and item descriptions may not know much about Miquella, and about his role in the game’s story. We’re here to tell you what you need to know so you don’t have to watch an hourlong lore video that unpacks it all.

    Who is Miquella in Elden Ring?

    A statue depicting Malenia and Miquella
    Image: FromSoftware/Bandai Namco via Polygon

    Miquella of the Haligtree is a demigod in the world of Elden Ring and a being known as an Empyrean. That means he is a candidate to succeed Queen Marika as the vessel for the Elden Ring.

    We don’t really see Miquella in the game, but he’s the older twin brother of Malenia, the fearsome, rot-afflicted boss who resides at the base of the Haligtree. An offspring of the game’s penultimate boss, Radagon, and Marika (who are, uh, the same person), Miquella only appears in withered cocoon form in the main game’s story. As teased in Shadow of the Erdtree’s reveal trailer, Miquella’s cocoon will be the doorway to the Land of Shadow when the DLC launches.

    Malenia and Miquella were both born with terrible afflictions: Malenia with rot that would consume her limbs and sight, and Miquella with eternal childhood. Statues of the brother-sister duo are scattered throughout the Haligtree, showing full-grown Malenia embracing her twin, who is stuck in the body of a young boy. Other statues show the twins at a younger age being embraced by their older sibling, Godwyn the Golden.

    Malenia calls Miqeulla “the most fearsome Empyrean of all,” with the wisdom and the allure of a god. Miquella is also said to be beloved by many, and can compel the affections of others.

    What’s Miquella’s relationship to Malenia? And Mohg?

    Malenia touches the roots of the Haligtree near Miquella’s former gestation chamber in a screenshot from Elden Ring

    Image: FromSoftware/Bandai Namco via Polygon

    Malenia and Miquella were close. The former fought to protect her brother, earning her the name Malenia, Blade of Miquella. Miquella was similarly protective, and worked unsuccessfully to develop a remedy for Malenia’s rot affliction. One of Miquella’s inventions was an unalloyed golden needle, which players can use to undo the Flame of Frenzy. (Miquella strived to “ward away the meddling of Outer Gods,” according to the description of Miquella’s Needle; an Outer God appears to be responsible for the spread of rot, too.)

    As part of his work to cure his sister and after leaving the faith known as the Golden Order, Miquella sought to create a new Erdtree, nurturing a sapling with his own blood. This endeavor would fail and produce the Haligtree, which would become a haven for the meek and afflicted. Miquella ultimately embedded himself within the Haligtree to grow it, residing in the cocoon, but he was kidnapped by Mohg, the Lord of Blood, who sought to become Miquella’s consort.

    That’s why Mohg has Miquella’s cocoon in his chambers. Mohg essentially stole Miquella from his Haligtree womb, in which the Empyrean now appears to have grown older compared to his previous boylike form.

    If Miquella’s stuck in that cocoon, how is he also in the Land of Shadow?

    Miquella’s cocoon in Mohgwyn Dynasty Mausoleum after being activated by Mohg, a screenshot from Elden Ring

    Miquella’s arm juts from his cracked cocoon in Mohg’s palace
    Image: FromSoftware/Bandai Namco via Polygon

    Miquella is said to have “divest[ed] himself of his flesh, his strength, and his lineage,” according to Shadow of the Erdtree’s official description. Miquella may not be a purely physical being in the DLC, and the Land of Shadow may not be a purely physical space; FromSoftware has a history of sending players to alternate time periods and dreamlike spaces in its expansions for games like Dark Souls and Bloodborne.

    Furthermore, there’s well-supported speculation that Miquella is connected to a character named St. Trina, who is also unseen in Elden Ring. Trina is said to be a mysterious character of ambiguous gender who has close associations with sleep and dreams, according to a few in-game item descriptions. Followers of St. Trina are said to look for her while they sleep, and we know that Miquella has been slumbering for some time.

    Both Trina and Miquella are also associated with nearly identical in-game items — Trina’s Lily and Miquella’s Lilly — that may connect them in still-unclear ways. However, in content that was discovered to have been cut from Elden Ring, it’s hinted that Miquella and St. Trina are actually the same person. That connection could be explained or confirmed in Shadow of the Erdtree, insofar as things ever get “explained” in FromSoftware games.

    Elden Ring: Shadow of the Erdtree will be released on June 20. Until then, there are plenty of deeper dives into Miquella lore to enjoy from creators like VaatiVidya, Smoughtown, and Arlun Grim if you want to be fully prepared for Elden Ring’s DLC.

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    Michael McWhertor

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  • ‘Magnolia’ With Bill Simmons, Chris Ryan, and Sean Fennessey

    ‘Magnolia’ With Bill Simmons, Chris Ryan, and Sean Fennessey

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    ‌It’s raining frogs in the studio as Bill Simmons, Chris Ryan, and Sean Fennessey rewatch the 1999 film Magnolia, starring Tom Cruise, Philip Seymour Hoffman, and Julianne Moore and directed by Paul Thomas Anderson.

    ‌Producer: Craig Horlbeck

    Subscribe: Spotify / Apple Podcasts / Stitcher / RSS

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    Bill Simmons

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  • 19 Burning Questions About Drake, Kendrick Lamar, and Rap’s Civil War

    19 Burning Questions About Drake, Kendrick Lamar, and Rap’s Civil War

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    You knew deep down it was real. When the rough version of Drake’s “Push Ups” leaked online Saturday afternoon, the big question at first was: Was it actually AI? If it was, it would mean someone random had just penned a pretty competent diss track aimed at Kendrick Lamar, Metro Boomin, and a half dozen other rap luminaries. If it wasn’t, it would mean that Aubrey had finally taken the gloves off and was ready to chip a nail. Sure, there were a few lines anyone steeped in Drake lore could’ve gotten off. But AI could never get that specific in its barbs, and AI certainly could never replicate that patented Drake sigh.

    A few hours later, Drake confirmed as much by releasing the full, finished track. He swapped out the beat—the rough cut evoked Tupac’s classic “Hit ’Em Up,” while the final paid homage to Biggie’s “What’s Beef?”—and cut a few lines aimed at Rozay (though the Teflon Don didn’t forget; more on that later). But it was all there: the response the rap world had been waiting on since Kendrick Lamar poked the Canadian bear three weeks ago on “Like That.”

    It’s admittedly not the nuclear detonation Joe Budden promised, but “Push Ups (Drop and Give Me 50)” makes it clear that Drake is up for the fight that rap fans have been waiting on for a generation. He landed disses about Kendrick’s height and former label situation, threw some petty shade at Future and Metro, and then chucked a few grenades at the Weeknd and his team. But if you’ve been anywhere near your For You page this weekend, then you know there’s so much more. (J. Cole behind enemy lines? Nose jobs? Dockers? French Montana? Ja Morant?!) Let’s take a look at the fallout and figure out where things sit—and more importantly, where they could go from here. First up …

    How did we get here?

    Chances are, if you’re reading this, it’s too late for me to explain. But it’s worth recapping how rap’s cold war erupted into a full-blown civil war (and on the weekend Alex Garland released Civil War, naturally). My colleague Justin Charity already ran through a timeline of the Drake-Kendrick feud, which for a decade resulted in little more than subliminal shots and KTT2 fanfic. But the simmering beef was tossed into the fire in March thanks to two unlikely provocateurs: Future and Metro Boomin. The former had seemingly taken offense to a For All the Dogs track that most fans had assumed was a tribute to Drake’s one-time collaborator. (Turns out rapping about how your buddy only sleeps with taken women is not a compliment, though you could forgive us for assuming the man behind “Fuck Russell” would consider it a good thing.) In the case of Metro, the superproducer behind a handful of Drake’s biggest hits started poking Aubrey late last year over award shows, of all things. Back then, Drake responded with some of his typical tough-guy posturing, but then tweets were deleted and everyone put it on the back burner.

    But never underestimate the pettiness of two men who name albums stuff like WE DON’T TRUST YOU and WE STILL DON’T TRUST YOU. The former came out last month and contains “Like That,” which includes the Archduke Ferdinand moment of this war. On the surface, Kendrick Lamar’s guest verse on “Like That” isn’t a diss on the level of, say, “Takeover” or “The Bridge Is Over.” But it took direct aim at Drake and J. Cole—seemingly for the sin of implying on For All the Dogs’ “First Person Shooter” that the two of them and Kendrick make up rap’s Big Three. (Like all good rap beefs, this one seems to be built on the smallest of slights; shout-out to the mic on LL Cool J’s arm.) “Like That” is light on specifics and heavy on old-school rap-battle bragging. (Fitting for the Rodney-O & Joe Cooley–sampling beat.) But what it lacks in pointedness, it makes up for with audaciousness: Here was Kendrick finally taking shots at an artist who’s been too big to fail for too long.

    But beyond giving Rap Twitter enough fodder for a few lifetimes, “Like That” did a few other things:

    • It hit no. 1 on the Hot 100 and worked its way into club rotation—virtually unheard of for a diss track, though not unlike Drake’s casual Meek Mill evisceration, “Back to Back.”
    • It gave everyone else clearance to pile on Drake. And boy, did they.

    So does everyone hate Drake now?

    The list of assumed Aubrey allies who pumped up “Like That” is shocking: Rick Ross! Travis Scott! LeBron James! But this is what years of subliminal disses and bad vibes will get you. Last Friday, Future and Metro released WE STILL DON’T TRUST YOU, and while there was no one seismic “Like That” moment, the 25-track album was littered with guests taking shots at Drake. The Weeknd made fun of him for having leaks in his camp and having “shooters making TikToks.” (Over an Isley Brothers sample!) Rihanna’s babies’ father showed up to brag about securing the very thing Drake’s always coveted. And maybe most damningly, J. Cole showed up on the Disc 1 closer, “Red Leather.” Jermaine didn’t diss his tour mate, and it’s unclear when he actually recorded the verse. But given what transpired a week earlier—when Cole released a tepid diss song about Kendrick, then apologized two nights later, saying he was confused and misled—the Dreamville head’s mere presence felt like Future and Metro were holding an enemy combatant hostage. Which, let’s hope not, because we already know Cole is the type to break under questioning.

    So, J. Cole actually apologized? That wasn’t just some strange dream I had?

    As my buddy Jeff Weiss said: Apologizing is a sign that Cole is a mature, thoughtful human. And it’s also the reason we never want to hear his music again.

    A reminder that any time you have Jadakiss asking “why?” you’re not in a good place.

    OK, so what we came here for: Drake finally responded? Is it any good?

    For weeks, the most we had heard from Drake was him making trigger fingers at the giant Travis Scott facsimile he brought on tour for “SICKO MODE” performances. (Anytime you’re screaming at a floating animatronic head you paid for, you are officially Down Bad.) But Drake broke his relative silence on Saturday with “Push Ups (Drop and Give Me 50).”

    And honestly, it’s fairly impressive, especially when you consider the initial wave of AI rumors—and especially when considering “Like That” has Drake on the defensive for one of the few times in his career. A self-described “20 v. 1,” “Push Ups” takes on almost everyone who had dared come at him in recent weeks. (A$AP Rocky seemingly goes ignored, which says more about Rocky than Drake.) The barbs at Future are mild (“Your first no. 1, I had to put it in your hand” … OK, and?), and Drake swats Metro Boomin away like an annoying gnat with a MIDI controller. (Giving the producer only the tossed-off diss “Shut your ho ass up and make some drums” feels like the modern-day equivalent of Jay-Z giving his lesser rivals only half a bar on “Takeover.”) But the shots at Rick Ross, the Weeknd, and Kendrick are more pointed—and all work to varying degrees. Let’s take those in reverse order.

    Did Drake respond to Kendrick like he needed to?

    Kendrick is admittedly a tough person to diss. He’s a critically beloved, Pulitzer-winning artist who keeps his business to himself (unless he’s having double-album-long therapy sessions). Sure, he’s prone to theater-kid dramatics—the “alien voice/jazz beat” jokes were flying all weekend—but his track record is mostly unimpeachable. (That’s something J. Cole learned the hard way when he tried to lightly critique Kendrick’s catalog on “7 Minute Drill.”) But on “Push Ups” Drake did about as well as you could reasonably expect, especially assuming this is simply his opening salvo.

    The easiest, most obvious jokes come at the expense of the famously short Kendrick’s height. (Most notably, “How the fuck you big steppin’ with a size seven men’s on?”—a pretty great punch line, if I do say so myself.) Those have caused a lot of moralizing, as though Drake should be above schoolyard-bully-style insults. But it ignores the reality that rap beef has always revolved around—and often been at its best when it leans into—childish name-calling. (Let’s never forget that “Ether”—widely considered one of the best diss tracks ever, to the point that the title has been a go-to verb in these kinds of battles—includes a reference to “Gay-Z and Cock-A-Fella Records.”)

    But some of the other lines land pretty hard. For Drake—one of the biggest pop stars in history—to mock Kendrick for doing songs with Maroon 5 and Taylor Swift seems like a silly proposition on the surface. But it works because (1) Drake has never stooped to those specific levels of pandering, (2) Drake isn’t a Pulitzer-winning artist who’s staked his reputation on high art, and (3) the bars are, simply put, pretty good. (“You better make it witty!”) The Prince/Michael Jackson lines—a response to Kendrick on “Like That,” which was a response to Drake on “First Person Shooter,” if you’re updating your flow chart at home—are inspired. (“What’s a prince to a king? He a son” is an entendre that would make my colleague and noted Kendrick lover Cole Cuchna at Dissect proud. Lest you forget, Jackson’s son is literally named Prince.) And of course, there’s the Whitney/Bodyguard line, which is a reference to not only the diamond-selling singer and her most famous movie role, but also seemingly an allusion to Kendrick’s partner, Whitney Alford. Assuming it is a double entendre—and there’s little reason to doubt that it is—it’s impossible not to recall that Whitney Houston’s character slept with her bodyguard. We have no evidence that anything happened in Kendrick’s life to evoke that line, and I’m struggling to find a suggestion of something happening outside of “Push Ups,” but Drake’s too savvy not to understand what he was doing.


    But wait—hasn’t Drake gotten in trouble for mentioning significant others before?

    You’d figure he’d know better by now! In 2018, after years of subliminals fired at him by Pusha T, Drake responded with “Duppy Freestyle.” Amid a bunch of lukewarm shots about Pusha lying about his drug-dealing prowess, Drake made one of the worst mistakes of his career. “I told you keep playin’ with my name / And I’ma let it ring on you like Virginia Williams,” he rapped, invoking Pusha’s then fiancée, now wife, and giving Push carte blanche to respond however he thought appropriate. Within days, we had “The Story of Adidon” and “you are hiding a child,” bullying Drake into being a father publicly. It’s a blemish that no number of no. 1 records can ever fully erase.

    Is Drake hiding another child?

    You know that somewhere, Pusha T and his private investigator are waiting to get tagged into this mess, but at the moment, we can only assume that Drake’s not playing border control yet again. We can also assume, however, that of everything Drake said about Kendrick, this will be the line that truly lights the fuse on this powder keg.

    What about this Top Dawg business on “Push Ups”?

    If there’s fault to be found with Drake’s response, it’s that the central premise falls apart under light scrutiny. The “drop and give me 50” hook is a slick reference to infamous shit talker Curtis Jackson. But it’s also a callback to a video on Kendrick’s burner Instagram of him doing push-ups. On yet another level, the implication is that Kendrick is splitting as much as 50 percent of his profits with Top Dawg Entertainment, the label he was signed to for 17 years. It’s a fairly clever conceit—“The way you doin’ splits, bitch, your pants might rip” is a little bit of a groaner, but that’s what you sign up for with Drake—however, it ignores reality. First, Kendrick famously left TDE in 2022 to start a new venture named pgLang (distributed by Columbia Records, which also makes the Interscope lines in “Push Ups” feel dated at best). Second, up through Scorpion, Drake was signed to Young Money, an imprint of Cash Money. The parent label, of course, is run by Birdman, and it was once sued by Lil Wayne for $51 million for violating his contract and withholding vast amounts of money. As Pusha once rapped—directly to Drake—“The M’s count different when Baby divide the pie.”

    The lesson here: Let the rapper who is not in an exploitative contract cast the first stone.

    OK, but what about the Weeknd? Where does a singer fit into this?

    In hindsight, one of the strangest quirks of 21st-century pop music is that two of the three biggest stars in the business come from Toronto. That should make them natural allies, if not friends—aren’t Canadians supposed to be nice?—but Drake and the Weeknd have been anything but. They collaborated in 2011 on Take Care’s “Crew Love,” which began life as a solo Weeknd song before Abel gifted it to Drake. (While possibly gifting him much more.) But from there, a rift began: The Weeknd signed with Republic instead of OVO (a move no one can fault him for when you look at his career next to, say, PartyNextDoor’s); rumors surfaced about Drake dating the Weeknd’s ex Bella Hadid; and despite some one-off collaborations and show appearances, they never seemed to like each other very much. (The Weeknd appears to be as much of a fan of the hiding-a-child line as we are at The Ringer.)

    So all things told, it wasn’t a complete shock when the Weeknd popped up on WE STILL DON’T TRUST YOU last Friday, gleefully crooning not-so-veiled Drake disses on “All to Myself.” (It’s worth pausing again to highlight “they shooters making TikToks,” an honestly inspired slight that pretty much sums up the Drake experience.) But Aubrey responded in kind on “Push Ups.” He fires a few shots at the Weeknd’s manager, Cash, claiming that he used to be a “blunt runner” for Chubbs, Drake’s head of security. (Update your flow chart—we are deep into Canadian music politics.) And more pointedly, he implies the Weeknd is showering men with gifts in exchange for gifts. It doesn’t matter that Drake may be evolved enough to admit he gets his nails done. You know what they say: It’s not a real rap beef until someone gets homophobic.

    OK, but what about Rick Ross? I thought he and Drake were friends?

    This may have been the most surprising development of the past three weeks. After a handful of classic collabs between them over a dozen or so years, it turns out that Rick Ross and Drake just don’t like each other. In the wake of “Like That,” Rozay posted an IG story of him bumping Kendrick’s diss. So when it came time for “Push Ups,” Drake made it clear he couldn’t overlook: He made allusions to Ross’s time as a correctional officer, his age, and in the leaked early demo version of “Push Ups,” Ross’s relationship with Diddy, who is currently the subject of a sex trafficking investigation and several sexual misconduct and abuse lawsuits. That line didn’t make the final version of “Push Ups,” but Ross obviously didn’t take it lightly.

    Why is the Rick Ross response the first track in this sprawling beef that feels like a true diss song?

    This was something first pointed out by the former host of The Ringer’s NO SKIPS podcast and esteemed rap journalist Brandon “Jinx” Jenkins: “Champagne Moments”—which Ross apparently recorded Saturday in the hours after “Push Ups” dropped—captured the spirit that most rap fans were looking for in this melee.

    Maybe it was the fact that the song was spread through sketchy MP3 sites and Dat Piff’s YouTube channel. Or maybe it was the pure vitriol. But if you wanted real beef, you’ve finally got it. Over the course of three verses, the Boss of All Bosses mocks Drake for leaks in his camp, using ghostwriters (an old reliable), and getting put on only because of Lil Wayne, all while repeatedly calling Aubrey a “white boy.” (It’s complicated.) It’s the type of directness and specificity that “Like That” lacked—but it also, like any great Rick Ross song, sounds luxurious. The most damning bits of “Champagne Moments,” however, come during the spoken word outro, when Ross [deep breath] says Drake is wearing funny clothes at his shows to hide the fact his six-pack is gone, that he also wears Dockers with no underwear (???), and that he had a nose job “to make [his] nose smaller than [his] father nose,” all because he was ashamed of his race. (Like I said, it’s complicated.)

    Wait, Drake had a nose job?!?!

    Before you go Googling “Drake nose job,” just know that Drake and his mother have been texting about it, and they seem to think it’s silly (and possibly racist).

    I’m cackling at the thought of Drake having to explain who Rick Ross is to his mom the same way I would have to with mine. But bringing Sandi into this hasn’t stopped Rozay from doubling down.

    Maybe the actual lesson is don’t ask Rick Ross to do push-ups, because that’s light work for him.

    So where does French Montana fit into this massive beef?

    As is typically the case with French, on the fringes. During that lengthy outro, Ross said he got involved only because Drake had sent a cease-and-desist order to French Montana’s team to have a verse of his removed from February’s Mac & Cheese 5. Well, the C&D worked because it doesn’t appear on French’s mixtape. But we now have a Streisand-effect situation on our hands because the verse is online and people are paying attention. And boy …

    Uh … so which rapper’s wife is Drake alluding to sleeping with?

    The speculation is that Drake is alluding to Kim Kardashian, Kanye’s ex-wife. And while we have no firm evidence that happened, Kim’s voice does appear prominently on last year’s “Search & Rescue.” (It’s complicated, messy, and petty—the only big three Drake really cares about.)

    Is Kanye going to get involved now?

    Let’s just hope we can get J. Prince on the line before someone (read: Kanye) does something even more foolish. We shudder to think what disses his brain would come up with.

    And you said something about Ja Morant?

    Of all the (alleged) targets on “Push Ups,” the most unexpected isn’t even a rapper or singer. Ja Morant—the NBA All-Star who has been suspended by the league twice for flashing guns on IG Live—seemingly caught a stray from Drake. Not that it was entirely undeserved, because …

    It would seem Ja took time away from shoulder rehab to insert himself in the biggest rap feud of the decade.

    Toward the end of “Push Ups,” Drake addresses the “hooper that be bustin’ out the griddy,” seemingly a reference to Ja’s preferred means of celebration. But Drake also references that “little heartbroken Twitter shit,” possibly an acknowledgment of the rumors that he went on a date with Ja’s ex Brooklyn Nikole. (One day, we’ll have a conversation about how women get used as pawns in these kinds of battles. But for now, I’ll just highlight how this puts Drake’s song in the lineage of another Jay-Z diss track, “Super Ugly”—the “me and the boy AI” song. Not exactly a proud lineage with that one.)

    If Drake and Ja can’t settle this one on (proverbial) wax, maybe they can take it to the hardwood. At least then, maybe J. Cole can prove himself useful.

    Is this all a lose-lose for Drake?

    Quite possibly! While “Push Ups” wasn’t exactly nuclear, it was still effective—and easily the best song to come out of the battle so far. And yet it feels like Round 1 of this battle is a draw, at best. Despite being light on specifics, Kendrick’s “Like That” verse did more damage than Drake’s four-minute, tea-spilling response. The most memorable lines to come out of Saturday may have been from Ross’s monologue about Dockers and cosmetic surgery. And Future and Metro have dropped two of the three best albums of the year in less than a month. You have to assume Kendrick has something else lined up—Drake alluded to as much in the original leaked version of “Push Ups,” suggesting that K.Dot’s song was recorded four years ago—and at this point, you have to assume someone else will jump into this Royal Rumble. (Cut to Pusha in the corner rubbing his hands together like Birdman.) “Push Ups” showed Drake can play effective defense—and he needed to after the embarrassment of “Adidon” six years ago—but if this was his best shot, Kendrick may not need to even say much in response to walk away the winner. (Though if we’re to believe this ScHoolboy Q tweet, we may find out if that’s the case soon.)

    But who do you think is going to win?

    Well, the easy answer is DJ Akademiks’s engagement. But none of these tracks are likely to change anyone’s mind. The Drake haters have already deemed the response trash, Aubrey’s Angels have already declared this the next “Hit ’Em Up,” and A$AP Rocky can’t even get a crumb of a response, but is still Rihanna’s partner. Maybe the actual winner is us because rap hasn’t been this fun in years. (For this writer, since the first time I heard the phrase “you are hiding a child,” if I’m being honest.) Just sit back and enjoy, because as Rick Ross promised, we’re only in the first quarter.

    OK, one last question: Could they all still make up?

    J. Cole’s response to this whole mess is admirable on a personal level, but embarrassing on a competitive level. Yet his apology also highlights a few realities of the situation: (1) Aside from Metro, these are all men hovering around the age of 40, and (2) no one has said anything they can’t take back yet. (Well, maybe aside from Ricky.) “I’m a better rapper than you” or “you’re short” or “your last album wasn’t that great” isn’t exactly a lethal blow. And even when it does get extremely personal, there’s precedent for rappers burying the hatchet—it took a few years, but eventually Nas and Jay-Z became collaborators. For my money, I expect we’ll see Drake, Kendrick, and Cole playing nice on a song (produced by Metro) at some point in the distant future. (Hopefully not with Future, though—Nayvadius is too cool for that shit.)

    But you know, even if this alleged Big Three won’t get on a track together, we always have AI to make that collaboration a (virtual) reality. By that time, it’ll probably even be able to get the Drake sigh right. It may even give us an answer to what J. Cole was thinking.

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    Justin Sayles

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  • Kung Fu Panda 4, Argylle, Netflix’s The Bricklayer, and every new movie to watch this weekend

    Kung Fu Panda 4, Argylle, Netflix’s The Bricklayer, and every new movie to watch this weekend

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    Greetings, Polygon readers! Each week, we round up the most notable new releases to streaming and VOD, highlighting the biggest and best new movies for you to watch at home.

    This week, Kung Fu Panda 4, the new animated action comedy starring Jack Black, arrives on VOD following its theatrical run last month. There’s tons of other exciting releases this week, too, like the satirical spy thriller Argylle on Apple TV Plus, a new action thriller starring Aaron Eckhart as a former CIA agent landing on Netflix, the new romantic fantasy film The Greatest Hits on Hulu, and much more. And then there’s Mayhem!, one of the best action movies of the year so far, now streaming on AMC Plus.

    Here’s everything new that’s available to watch this weekend!


    New on Netflix

    Strange Way of Life

    Where to watch: Available to stream on Netflix

    Image: El Deseo/Saint Laurent Productions

    Genre: Western drama
    Run time: 31m
    Director: Pedro Almodóvar
    Cast: Ethan Hawke, Pedro Pascal

    This Western short from legendary Spanish director Pedro Almodóvar (Volver, Pain and Glory) follows the story of two gunslingers (and former lovers) who reunite after 25 years apart.

    The Bricklayer

    Where to watch: Available to stream on Netflix

    Image: Millennium Media/Vertical Entertainment

    Genre: Action thriller
    Run time: 1h 50m
    Director: Renny Harlin
    Cast: Aaron Eckhart, Nina Dobrev, Tim Blake Nelson

    The latest in a long tradition of “action movies with odd profession titles,” The Bricklayer follows a former CIA agent (Aaron Eckhart) needed by his former agency when journalists start dying. The movie has a bit of pedigree behind it, as Renny Harlin (Cliffhanger, Die Hard 2) directs.

    New on Hulu

    The Greatest Hits

    Where to watch: Available to stream on Hulu

    A man staring across at a woman in front of a shelf of vinyl records.

    Image: Groundswell Productions/Searchlight Pictures

    Genre: Musical romance
    Run time: 1h 34m
    Director: Ned Benson
    Cast: Lucy Boynton, Justin H. Min, David Corenswet

    After suffering the loss of her boyfriend in a car accident, a young woman named Harriet (Lucy Boynton) inadvertently discovers that she has the power to go back in time to various points in their relationship by listening to his old record collection. When Harriet meets a new love interest named David (Justin H. Min), she struggles between her desire to correct the past to resurrect her boyfriend or pursue the possibility of newfound love in the present.

    New on Prime Video

    The Exorcist: Believer

    Where to watch: Available to stream on Prime Video

    Two possessed, scarred and bruised children sit back to back on the floor and glare at the camera above them in The Exorcist: Believer

    Image: Universal Studios

    Genre: Horror
    Run time: 1h 51m
    Director: David Gordon Green
    Cast: Leslie Odom Jr., Ellen Burstyn, Ann Dowd

    David Gordon Green’s new entry in the Exorcist franchise arrives this week on streaming. It’s a bizarre twist on the franchise, per our review:

    Up until this most recent movie, the title The Exorcist carried some weight. While its role as a representation of quality was up for debate, its mark as a sign of ambition was not. Since the original Exorcist, the series has provided some of American cinema’s best and most interesting artists with space to ruminate on faith and evil. Believer lacks the ambition that’s meant to define an Exorcist movie. This is the most profound statement the movie has to offer, seemingly by accident: If the result of moving past God is that everything in the world will feel as empty and pointless as The Exorcist: Believer, we should cling to faith forever.

    New on Apple TV Plus

    Argylle

    Where to watch: Available to stream on Apple TV Plus

    A man with a buzzcut dressed in a emerald suit lifts a woman with short blonde hair in a gold dress and heels on a dance floor.

    Photo: Peter Mountain/Universal Pictures/Apple Original Films/Marv

    Genre: Action comedy
    Run time: 2h 19m
    Director: Matthew Vaughn
    Cast: Henry Cavill, Bryce Dallas Howard, Sam Rockwell

    What happens when you take the meta-fictional irreverence of Stranger than Fiction and smash it together with a premise similar to Matthew Vaughn’s 2014 movie Kingsman: The Secret Service?

    You get Argylle, an action satire of spy novels à la 1984’s Romancing the Stone that follows Elly Conway (Bryce Dallas Howard), an introverted novelist who is dragged kicking and screaming into a world of international espionage when it turns out that her popular spy novels are predicting the future. Who is the real agent Argylle? You’ll have to watch in order to find out.

    From our review:

    Argylle is too winking, too keen to show that it’s in on its own joke, to admit any real romantic feeling or any excitement that runs deeper than the surface level of its flashy choreography. Vaughn, the impish ringmaster, delights in challenging the audience to figure out what’s real and what’s fictional within his stylized, nested worlds. It’s just that he never really answers the question: Why should we care? With Argylle, he mounts a playful, rollicking thriller with an all-star cast and some dazzling action — but then holds the audience at arm’s length from it, just to show how clever he’s been in putting it together. The truly clever thing would have been to let the dumb film be joyously dumb, and invite the audience to lose themselves in it instead.

    New on Peacock

    Drive-Away Dolls

    Where to watch: Available to stream on Peacock

    Margaret Qualley and Geraldine Viswanathan looking into a trunk in Drive-Away Dolls

    Image: Focus Features

    Genre: Road comedy
    Run time: 1h 24m
    Director: Ethan Coen
    Cast: Margaret Qualley, Geraldine Viswanathan, Beanie Feldstein

    Ethan Coen’s first narrative feature without his brother Joel is an offbeat crime comedy about a pair of young women who embark on an impromptu road trip. Things get dicey after the two cross paths with a group of incompetent criminals sent to retrieve a mysterious briefcase on behalf of their shady employer.

    From our review:

    Drive-Away Dolls’ well-worn beats are buttressed by tremendous style, a deep care taken with the film’s production and costume design. All that attention to the era that isn’t fully present in the script comes out in the visuals instead. There isn’t much narrative texture to Marian and Jamie’s various stopovers — in particular, there isn’t much for Jamie or Marian to connect with. While the pair have frequent and funny interactions on their trip, the people they meet are more or less cartoon characters setting up a gag.

    New on Paramount Plus

    Bob Marley: One Love

    Where to watch: Available to stream on Paramount Plus, MGM Plus

    A smiling man with dreadlocks standing next to a band of musicians playing.

    Image: Paramount Pictures

    Genre: Biographical musical
    Run time: 1h 47m
    Director: Reinaldo Marcus Green
    Cast: Kingsley Ben-Adir, Lashana Lynch, James Norton

    This biopic follows the story of cultural icon Bob Marley, portrayed by Kingsley Ben-Adir (One Night in Miami…). The film follows Marley from his rise to fame in the ’70s up until his death in 1981.

    New on AMC Plus

    Mayhem!

    Where to watch: Available to stream on AMC Plus

    Nassim Lyes as Sam, an ex-con and former martial artist, fighting against two men in Mayhem.

    Image: IFC Films

    Genre: Action thriller
    Run time: 1h 49m
    Director: Xavier Gens
    Cast: Nassim Lyes, Loryn Nounay, Olivier Gourmet

    An early contender for one of this year’s best action films, Mayhem follows Samir (Nassim Lyes), an ex-con and martial artist, who flees from France to Thailand to escape his former gang. Struggling to build a new life, Samir finds himself once again dragged into a world of deceit and violence when a powerful real estate tycoon kidnaps a member of his family.

    From our review:

    Mayhem’s action is brutal and kinetic, with inventive kills, strong location work, and realistic choreography that makes the most of Lyes’ kickboxing pedigree. It’s a true star-making performance for him, as he juggles the role’s demanding physical requirements with a deep well of sorrow that permeates the entire affair, even as he dispatches foe after foe.

    New to rent

    Ennio

    Where to watch: Available to rent on Amazon, Apple, and Vudu

    Ennio Morricone standing in his office surrounded by notes.

    Image: Music Box Films

    Genre: Documentary
    Run time: 2h 36m
    Director: Giuseppe Tornatore

    Cinema Paradiso director Giuseppe Tornatore made a documentary on renowned film composer Ennio Morricone, one of the most accomplished people in that stacked field. The documentary includes Quentin Tarantino, Clint Eastwood, Bruce Springsteen, and many more luminaries from the entertainment world.

    Glitter & Doom

    Where to watch: Available to rent on Amazon, Apple, and Vudu

    Two men embracing on a stage surrounded by dancers.

    Image: SPEAK Productions/Music Box Films

    Genre: Musical romance
    Run time: 1h 55m
    Director: Tom Gustafson
    Cast: Alex Diaz, Alan Cammish, Ming-Na Wen

    A musical set to the songs of the Indigo Girls, Glitter & Doom follows a summer romance between a musician committed to this craft (Alan Cammish) and a “free-spirited circus kid” (Alex Diaz).

    Io Capitano

    Where to watch: Available to rent on Apple and Vudu

    A boy in a soccer jersey holding the hand of a floating woman dressed in an emerald shroud through the desert.

    Image: Archimede/Cohen Media Group

    Genre: Fantasy
    Run time: 2h 1m
    Director: Matteo Garrone
    Cast: Seydou Sarr, Moustapha Fall, Issaka Sawadogo

    Desperate for an escape out of poverty, two cousins leave their hometown of Dakar, Senegal, to journey to Italy in search of a better life. Trekking across the hazards of the Sahara Desert and Mediterranean Ocean, the pair are met with sights and wonders beyond their wildest imaginations.

    Kung Fu Panda 4

    Where to watch: Available to rent on Amazon, Apple, and Vudu

    Po the panda watches in awe as a svelte silver fox leaps over him, holding some stolen treasures

    Image: DreamWorks Animation

    Genre: Martial arts comedy
    Run time: 1h 34m
    Director: Mike Mitchell
    Cast: Jack Black, Awkwafina, Bryan Cranston

    The fourth entry in the Kung Fu Panda saga sees Po taking on a new apprentice to succeed him as the Dragon Warrior. When a mysterious sorceress plots to resurrect Po’s past adversaries, he’ll need to call upon all his strength and allies to save the day.

    From our review:

    While the individual scenes and moments in Kung Fu Panda 4 are entertaining (and sometimes even great), it never quite gels as an enjoyable movie on its own. The message of change tying it together is flimsy, and the plot feels strung along, trying to get the characters in the right place to launch a few seconds of cool action. After four movies, it isn’t really a surprise that the Kung Fu Panda machine is running out of steam — thankfully, though, it has just enough power left to churn out some genuine laughs at the end.

    One Life

    Where to watch: Available to rent on Amazon, Apple, and Vudu

    Photo: Peter Mountain/Bleecker Street

    Genre: Biographical drama
    Run time: 1h 50m
    Director: James Hawes
    Cast: Anthony Hopkins, Helena Bonham Carter, Johnny Flynn

    Anthony Hopkins stars in a dramatization of the life of Sir Nicholas “Nicky” Winton, a London broker and humanitarian who rescued the lives of 669 Jewish children in the months leading up to World War II. Hopkins portrays Winton in his late ’70s, while actor-musician Johnny Flynn portrays him during his youth in the late 1930s.

    Sleeping Dogs

    Where to watch: Available to rent on Amazon, Apple, and Vudu

    A man wearing a hairnet holding a puzzle piece while staring at a glass table of puzzle pieces.

    Image: Nickel City Productions/The Avenue

    Genre: Crime thriller
    Run time: 1h 50m
    Director: Adam Cooper
    Cast: Russell Crowe, Karen Gillan, Marton Csokas

    After being diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, retired homicide detective Roy Freeman (Russell Crowe) is motivated to reopen an investigation into the murder of a college professor when a mysterious new witness comes forward with a compelling piece of evidence. As he works to track down the true culprit, he’ll have to fight to convince those around him to trust his intuition and theories.

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    Toussaint Egan

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  • Rihanna Wants Monica Back on ‘RHOSLC’? Plus, ‘Summer House: Martha’s Vineyard,’ ‘Summer House,’ ‘The Valley,’ and ‘Vanderpump Rules.’

    Rihanna Wants Monica Back on ‘RHOSLC’? Plus, ‘Summer House: Martha’s Vineyard,’ ‘Summer House,’ ‘The Valley,’ and ‘Vanderpump Rules.’

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    Rachel Lindsay and Callie Curry begin today’s Morally Corrupt with a discussion about the Bravo news of the week (1:37) before giving their thoughts on Season 2, Episode 3 of Summer House: Martha’s Vineyard (11:18), as well as Season 8, Episode 8 of Summer House (26:52). Then Rachel is joined by Jodi Walker to recap Season 1, Episode 4 of The Valley (43:49) and Season 11, Episode 11 of Vanderpump Rules (1:07:27).

    Host: Rachel Lindsay
    Guests: Callie Curry and Jodi Walker
    Producer: Devon Baroldi
    Theme Song: Devon Renaldo

    Subscribe: Spotify

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    Rachel Lindsay

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  • ‘Civil War’ With Alex Garland! Plus: The 10 Most Anticipated Movies Out of CinemaCon.

    ‘Civil War’ With Alex Garland! Plus: The 10 Most Anticipated Movies Out of CinemaCon.

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    Sean and Amanda are joined by Chris Ryan to run through the 10 most anticipated movies from this week’s CinemaCon, which Sean attended (1:00). Then, they have a long—and, at times, combative—discussion about Alex Garland’s big-budget A24 release, Civil War (44:00), delving into the film’s politics (or lack thereof), point of view, cinematic style, and more. Finally, Sean is joined by Garland to answer questions regarding some of those very things and where he sees this in the arc of his career, as well as discuss whether he will take a step back from filmmaking (1:50:00).

    Hosts: Sean Fennessey and Amanda Dobbins
    Guests: Chris Ryan and Alex Garland
    Senior Producer: Bobby Wagner

    Subscribe: Spotify / Apple Podcasts / Stitcher / RSS

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    Sean Fennessey

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  • Park Chan-wook’s ‘The Sympathizer’ Confronts Hollywood’s History of the Vietnam War

    Park Chan-wook’s ‘The Sympathizer’ Confronts Hollywood’s History of the Vietnam War

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    All wars are fought twice
    The first time on the battlefield
    the second time in memory

    These three lines of text come from a quote in Nothing Ever Dies: Vietnam and the Memory of War, written by Vietnamese American author Viet Thanh Nguyen. This idea of a twice-fought conflict serves as the basis for the nonfiction book, which examines war, memory, and identity. Nguyen focuses on the Vietnam War—or the American War, as he notes that others call it—as a model in which to examine the problems that stem from how we remember war, the challenges and contradictions in how these stories are told, and who gets to tell them. The three lines of text are projected on-screen in the opening moments of the HBO adaptation of Nguyen’s Pulitzer Prize–winning novel, The Sympathizer, a story that explores these concepts through the recollections of a half-French, half-Vietnamese Communist spy during the waning days of the Vietnam War and in his new life as a refugee in Los Angeles.

    The Sympathizer, which premieres on HBO on Sunday, follows our nameless protagonist—known only as the Captain (Hoa Xuande)—as he confesses his experiences as a North Vietnamese double agent from the confines of a reeducation camp somewhere in Vietnam. Like the Captain himself, the seven-episode miniseries contains many faces: It is at once a harrowing depiction of the loss of life in Vietnam, an immigrant story, an espionage thriller, and a biting satire of decades of Hollywood portrayals of a war that have almost always been positioned from an American point of view. As the Captain continues his espionage work in the U.S. even after the fall of Saigon, following the South Vietnamese General (Toan Le) to California to report back on his aspirations to one day reclaim their homeland, The Sympathizer widens its perspective of the war through the Captain’s blue-green eyes. The miniseries manages to capture much of the sharp wit of its source material in an adaptation that is often as funny as it is exhilarating, but its unevenness throughout the season dulls some of the finer edges of Nguyen’s masterful work in the process.

    The A24 coproduction is led by showrunners Don McKellar and Park Chan-wook (Decision to Leave, Oldboy), the latter of whom helms the first three episodes before directors Fernando Meirelles (City of God, The Two Popes) and Marc Munden (Help, Utopia) finish off the remainder of the series. Park’s imprint is all over his three-episode block, with his distinct cinematic flair and particular brand of absurdist humor setting the tone for the show early and often. Some of the show’s funniest moments early on derive from the physical comedy of a drunken bar fight that occurs in the background of an urgent conversation, or the wide-angled portrayal of an assassination attempt gone awry. There’s a wonderful bit of interplay between Park’s and Nguyen’s works in this adaptation: Park’s twisted and spectacular Oldboy originally served as an influence for Nguyen’s novel—the author was inspired (and disturbed) by Park’s subversive revenge tale, released in 2003—and now the Korean filmmaker is one of the key creative visions bringing The Sympathizer to the screen.

    Park is thus the natural fit to establish the pace of the miniseries; the Captain perfectly aligns with the type of protagonist he often likes to explore in his films. As the director told The New Yorker: “I am drawn to the character who acts on their resolve, but then, having arrived at their destination, finds that they have arrived at a completely different place than they had intended.”

    That Park’s directorial absence is so pronounced in the back half of the season is less a criticism of his replacements than a product of a distinctive auteur handing over the reins to other filmmakers; some of the show’s most bizarre quirks fade away by the end of the series. However, one of Park’s ideas has an outsized presence across The Sympathizer’s duration, for better or worse: casting Robert Downey Jr. in four different roles.

    Downey—covered in some combination of heavy makeup, prosthetics, and colored contacts (sometimes all at once)—plays a CIA operative, a college professor, a conservative politician, and an eccentric Hollywood director (sometimes all at once). Each figure serves as either a mentor or employer to the Captain at some point, with the protagonist’s wildly varied work experience taking him from the South Vietnamese secret police’s interrogation rooms to the Hollywood set of a movie that resembles Apocalypse Now. Downey’s characters are all white American men who together form one unified satire of the American imperialist systems of power. As clever of a conceit as this may be, and as entertaining as Downey’s various performances in The Sympathizer are, the Oscar-winning actor is also a distracting fixture whose scene chewing too often draws attention away from his acting partners and the story itself.

    Downey, who serves as an executive producer on the series with his wife, Susan, is not the only starry name in the cast—just the only one whose roles seem to multiply as the season progresses. Sandra Oh, John Cho, and David Duchovny all appear in supporting roles; the latter two make hilarious cameos as actors in the episode that spoofs the Hollywood production. But it’s Xuande, in the leading role of the Captain, who is perhaps most deserving of praise. The little-known Australian Vietnamese actor, whose previous credits include ABC’s Ronny Chieng: International Student and the unfortunate live-action remake of Cowboy Bebop, is surrounded by many big names, but The Sympathizer features Xuande’s Captain in just about every scene, his narration frequently providing the transitions in between. Xuande manages to convey the complexities of the character like a veteran thespian, showcasing the Captain’s charisma and wide range of emotions while his dual life progressively takes a toll on him. As the war begins to move on from the violence of the battlefield to form the fresh scars of a living memory, the Captain struggles to weigh his shifting ideals and sense of morality against his conflicting loyalties.

    The Sympathizer doesn’t reach the same heights as its Pulitzer Prize–winning source material, its ambitious appetite perhaps too large to be satiated over the course of just seven episodes. But the miniseries is still a worthy adaptation of a challenging text, injecting enough of its own voice and style to achieve one of the novel’s primary goals of evolving the conversation around the Vietnam War in mainstream media.

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    Daniel Chin

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