Fran Magazine: Sunday Dispatch, I'm still here
Materialists, Pee-wee, graduation, Stardew Valley (?)
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Weekend away
I spent about 48 hours in Chicago last weekend to see my brother graduate from law school, marking it this first time in a long time that no one in my immediate family is going to grad school or has designs to do so. I could fuck with this at any second, should I return to my PhD musing, but it doesn’t seem likely. It got me thinking about my own grad school graduation — a useless, Zoom-oriented affair because it was May 2020 and no one knew what we were supposed to be doing. Cory Booker called in and I tried to screenshot my name when it scrolled by on the screen. I recall not feeling much of anything. I hadn’t even had the chance to pick up my cap and gown when Rutgers shut down for the school year; it was almost as though that part of my life never officially ended. The weather was practically perfect — sunny with a nice breeze — and walking around the University of Chicago campus was perfectly romantic and lovely. There were whispers that Ariana Grande and Ethan Slater were there for some obscure cousin’s graduation but I’ve yet to see corroboration for that. As far as I knew, the only celeb on campus was my brother.
This past school year was the first time I hadn’t taught at least once semester since 2019. I miss it! There’s a great inherent rhythm to a school year, and it’s always been a pleasure to watch the days get longer all throughout a spring semester. Without the anchor of “terms” or “quarters,” the concept of it being June feels very strange. I keep forgetting Memorial Day weekend ever even happened.
Bandit
Billy Joel: And So It Goes, Susan Lacy & Jessica Levin (2025)
Watched at the Beacon Theater. My one annual Tribeca screening was the two and a half hour part one of a documentary coming to HBO later this summer. As longtime — or maybe even short time — Fran Magazine readers know, I love Billy Joel. When founder of the Tribeca Film Festival Robert De Niro introduced the film, he called Billy Joel the “poet laureate” of New York. It got a sort of polite laugh and knowing applause from the audience, but I think he’s more or less right. I grew up enjoying Billy Joel, but that affection went to a whole other level once I moved to New York. There’s a dirty, desperate horniness and sentimental affection that becomes inherent to life here. In the documentary, Joel calls Glass Houses a pop punk album. Sure!
The Phoenician Scheme, Wes Anderson (2025)
Watched at Alamo Drafthouse. I run pretty 50-50 on Anderson, but I’m as surprised as anyone to have liked two in a row here. I don’t think The Phoenician Scheme felt quite as resonant as a capital-t Themes-based movie as Asteroid City — which is one of our great COVID films — but I found the overall experience of watching Anderson’s latest to be pleasant, funny, and thoughtful. Like everyone, I love what my neighbor Michael Cera is doing in the film, but I really loved seeing Richard Ayoade in there. I haven’t seen all the Henry Sugar shorts, but I have really grown to like a lot of Anderson’s newer players: Cumberbatch, Friend, Ayoade. Finally: someone who understands that Rubert Friend is funny (Armando Iannucci knows this too). Mia Threapleton is so beautiful: between her and Sabrina Carpenter, heart-shaped faces are back!
Splitsville, Michael Angelo Covino (2025)
Watched at screening room. This movie will be out later in the summer. It is so, so funny and goofy — a (fairly un)romantic comedy starring Dakota Johnson that just so happens to be prescient about desire and money, albeit in a loose, wacky way.
The Birdcage, Mike Nichols (1996)
Rewatched at Low Cinema. I had the pleasure of introducing a lifelong favorite at a new little theater in Queens with a great vibe and the cheapest popcorn in New York City. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen The Birdcage, and I can’t tell you how many times in my life I’ve laughed at Nathan Lane shrieking. The Bo Welch production design is so crazy; I want to live in the world of this movie so badly.
Pee-wee As Himself, Matt Wolf (2025)
Watched on HBO Max. I so regretted missing this at Sundance earlier this year, but it was much nicer to see this three and a half hour movie in the comfort of my home than at 10pm in Park City. I grew up with Pee-wee, who both scared me (clown-adjacent vibe) and entranced me. Rewatching the Burton film a few years ago was a transcendent experience. The character is so defined and peculiar and hilarious. Paul Reubens always knew exactly how to squish or expand his face in any given moment. That this was an exacting film to put together is inherent to both the character of Reubens and the nature of the movie itself. I was pretty devastated by the end.
Materialists, Celine Song (2025)
Watched at screening room. Ben and Sam went longer and more coherent than I could bring myself to be, but suffice it to say I’ve been sitting on my disdain for this film for nearly a month. A movie that is not romantic, nor sexy, nor funny. There’s a case to be said that this movie’s version of sex is money, but that money is confusingly framed and represented. I don’t go to movies for realism, but I found this picture completely at odds with itself and its goofball marketing. Whatever laughs the movie finds are at the expense of the wealthy clients, who then the movie two-thirds of the way through doesn’t want you to laugh at anymore. Watching Materialists, I felt both bored and implicated in something that I didn’t do. Comparisons to Nora Ephron piss me off. This is probably closest to something like Moneyball, but even Moneyball has a greater sense of romance. Surprise in the film is derived from cruelty and not affection. I didn’t care what anyone was doing or who they wound up with. There’s no chemistry, just restaurants. The sexual assault subplot is so profoundly depressing; I left the theater in one of the worst moods of my life. I liked Dakota Johnson in it.
If you are keen for a romantic movie — comedy and otherwise — that deals directly with money and class, might I point you in the direction of a little thing called Howards End???
See Friendship, Jeremy Gordon (2025)
As a Chicagoland native with a morbid curiosity in the fates of my high school classmates, Gordon’s novel about a blogger-turned-aspiring podcaster who wants to blow the lid off a childhood peer’s death rang salient and sad. At its sharpest, See Friendship captured the way in which media companies often exploit their employees’ lives even when the nature of the jobs are not inherently personal — many of us are always digging for a way to make ourselves valuable, even when the tragedy of others is the cost of admission. Jakes Bar mentioned.
Stardew Valley
A friend started playing Tears of the Kingdom for the first time, and got so mad at the game as to make me wonder if I would like it more if I tried again. “Sure, I was annoyed, but I wasn’t that annoyed,” or so I told myself when we spoke. When I got my Switch out — which has been gathering dust since I played Animal Well — I instead restarted Stardew Valley, almost on impulse. Why am I doing this? It’s hard to say… creature comforts, maybe, or a latent desire to live on a farm.
Soothing video :)
Most of my time is spent staring out the window because my tomato plant has just started flowering. I also bought a wedding dress, but that’s a whole other story. Did Materialists also piss you off? What are you watching? Listening to? Reading? I have the new Susan Choi next up to read, and maybe also Orlando by Virginia Woolf if I can make the time.
i wonder what’s wrong with rosamund pike’s agent
woah I missed there's a new Susan Choi! I somehow found myself pleasantly baffled at Materialists. I have read the play she wrote that she has Evans perform in this (which I like a lot) and couldn't stop laughing when it started. not convinced the movie isn't a prank (see Her 2013).
we've watched a lot of really funny stuff lately. ocean's twelve, dick tracy, true grit. I thought for a while I didn't like Matt Damon, but I actually was just annoyed at The Martian. he's such a little freak.