Always Be My Maybe & Booksmart
As we've discussed in the past, Netflix can have big hits and big misses when it comes to the content it's constantly churning out. Always Be My Maybe sets the bar high when it comes to the next wave of romcoms the streaming service is sure to deliver. The film tells the story of two childhood best friends, Sasha (Ali Wong) and Marcus (Randall Park), who hooked up in high school, got into a huge fight and didn't speak again for 16 years. They reunite in San Francisco, when Sasha temporarily moves back to open a new restaurant in the Bay area, where she bumps into Marcus, who is a little stuck in his old routines. They spar, they flirt, they're thrown together by everyone around them. Written by Ali Wong, Randall Park and Michael Golamco, the film is, not surprisingly, full of funny. Whether it's Randall Park's Ryan-Reynolds-esque deadpan, Ali Wong's sarcasm, Michelle Buteau's scene-stealing one-liners or a crazy cameo by a famous actor who is forced to go fully on crazy (I won't spoil for those who haven't seen it spoiled already on the interweb), it's rare that a romcom truly delivers on the com part of the equation. The movie is filled with many heartwarming and unique touches: the fictional band Marcus is part of actually has really catchy fictional songs (now available on Spotify, making them less fictional) that provide a unique layer of realism to the story, Sasha's entire journey into the food world is sparked by childhood trips to Marcus' house to cook with his mom and Marcus and his father have a sweet and hilarious relationship. The movie is directed by Nahnatchka Khan (you know I have to call out the female directors!), and it's so refreshing to watch a romcom unfold onscreen that is fully created by a diverse group of talent. It's the perfect summer movie to turn on this weekend!
Bonus Pick: You can actually listen to the music from fictional band Hello Peril on Spotify now, if you want to revisit tunes about saying hello or odes to tennis balls. Jiayang Fan writes in The New Yorker about what it means to see an Asian-American romcom and how the movie successfully depicts classes in culture. And Eater explores the movie's takes on the "traps" of creating authentic Asian-American cuisine, which will most likely make you hungry all over again.
As Seen on Screen
It's rare that I leave the movie theater eager for more. Typically if a story is dubbed movie-length, instead of TV show-length, it's wrapped up in the two-hour window. When it comes to Booksmart the story is complete, but as I left the theater, I found myself wanting to spend more time with these characters. At its core, it's a story about two best friends Amy (Kaitlyn Dever) and Molly (Beanie Feldstein), who realize they need one night of fun after years cramming before they graduate high school. Molly is channeling Paris Gellar, as an overachieving and confrontational student who wants to fit in at her core. Amy is a little more reserved, except when she's goofing around with her besties. While this core relationship is at the heart of the story, the care that each supporting part is given, by the actors, writers and director turns this film into something more than a cliched romp through the "one last wild night in high school" trope. Booksmart knows better and has more heart. Each of the seniors gets a moment in the movie. While these characters have over-the-top tendencies, they all feel recognizable, like that kid you knew way back when, because it also takes the time to give each character a moment of sincerity to balance with the goofy. The movie is also refreshingly written and directed by women, giving it an extra layer of authenticity when depicting the female high school experience. I've seen a lot of reviews comparing Booksmart to Superbad, but what those articles fail to acknowledge is that there are plenty of movies that focus on boys having a wild night out. Very few give women the same opportunities to let loose. The women in Booksmart are smart, funny, entertaining overachievers up until recently, this is a female experience not often portrayed on screen. Our leading ladies both have romantic arcs in the film, but the story is about more than Molly find a boyfriend or Amy finding a girlfriend. It's a love story about best friends. YouTube has the first six minutes of the movie online, and I've rewatched it more than I'd care to admit. Did I mention this movie is very funny? You can capture its essence in that six-minute taste, which will no doubt leave you yearning for more. Go to the theater and check out it, but I can't guarantee your appetite for these characters and this story will go away. It might require repeat viewings.
Haven't You Heard?
Speaking of powerful women, when Roxane Gay tweeted that she was starting a podcast, I was thrilled. I often go to Twitter to seek out her expert opinion on all matters of importance, from the 2020 election to the pending pick-up of One Day at a Time, topics both covered on Hear to Slay. The podcast is cohosted by Gay and Dr. Tressie McMillan Cottom, a sociology professor and author, and is hosted on the Luminary podcast network. Here's where we get to the only downside... you do have to pay (once your three-month free trial is over) for access to some of the provider's podcasts and Hear to Slay falls under that banner. Hear to Slay is worth forking over a couple dollars a month (but please, it's from Roxane Gay, so you probably already knew that). The first few episodes feature interviews with Stacey Abrams, Gabrielle Union, Natasha Rothwell and Gloria Calderón Kellett and cover topics ranging from people of color in the entertainment industry, Joe Biden, asking for a raise and relationship advice. The podcast promises to provide "a black feminist perspective on celebrity, culture, politics, art, life, love—all the things they're obsessed with—and more," and already in these first few episodes it delivers. Give it a listen and you'll leave feeling inspired, educated and ready to slay.
Required Reading
Last week an article from Nieman Lab began swirling around the Twitter sphere. What was intended to be an article showcasing the number of women hired at The Atlantic since 2016, became cause for controversy due to a quote from the magazine's editor in chief, Jeff Goldberg, about the lack of diversity among those who write cover stories for the publication. First, I encourage you to read the full article in context, because there are a lot of good things being said by Jeff and Adrienne LaFrance, the executive editor. As journalists tweeted responses to the messaging, some started threads of female journalists who write longform stories, pointing out that there are plenty of women readily available who could add their name to the cover of The Atlantic. Second, I encourage you to read some of those stories tweeted out. Here are some to get you started. And I think all male editors who find themselves in the position of deciding who should write a cover story should do the same. People in charge shouldn't be surprised at the reporting taking place around them. If they're not reading enough longform written by women or people of color, they need to pick up something new to read. The writing is there. The work is being done. The potential is clear. Finally, I ask you to turn to an article in The Cut written by Noreen Malone in response to the Nieman story, where she points out that "white guys have gambled on white guys forever." Ultimately, I hope these conversations result in more diversity behind the scenes and on the pages of all publications and that editors everywhere seek out voices that are different from their own and pull from the pool of talented women and people of color who are already writing amazing stories and that they then take a "gamble" on even newer voices that are just coming onto the scene.
In newsletters past, I've recommended NBC's The Good Place, which is why I'm of course heartbroken to see that the show will be ending after its upcoming fourth season airs. But outweighing that sadness is my joy that the show gets to end on its own terms. With such a high-concept premise, which has continued to surprise viewers every season, it would have been sad if The Good Place had petered out into oblivion. Now, it will get to end the way it was always intended. In an interview with The Hollywood Reporter, show creator Mike Schur discusses his thought process, the final season and why after the show wraps he wants to get out of the way and make room for other voices in the TV industry.
