Writers are always trying to grasp the hem of greatness, not immune to fads and popularity. Last year’s Barbenheimer is the most recent example of such. The zeitgeist is our goal as much as anyone. However, sometimes you have to look back at why we felt these trends deserved praise or be derided. In the spirit of a podcast called “Rehash” I have been listening to, let’s walk back over a couple months and talk about some topics we all got into a tizzy about. Maybe we can understand why they fascinated us in the first place.
One such focus of conversation went by three words: hot rodent men. Those mouse-like sad boys that graced our screens over most of the year, it was kicked off with Timothée Chalamet back-to-back with Wonka and Dune: Part Two. Then we were treated with Josh O’Connor and Mike Feist in Challengers. Then dropped The Bear on Hulu at the end of June.
Jeremy Allen White made a big splash with awards and ads for Stella Artois and Calvin Klein underwear. Funny that last summer I binged Shameless, and now we have yet another show set in Chicago starring him. After finally watching all three seasons, it is genuinely weird that the media attention has gone to White solely in what I believe is an ensemble piece. The Bear, yes, is about Carmy and this relationship with his family and deceased brother. But if the third installment has shown us anything, The Bear is about the restaurant as a unit. My favorite episodes this season were between his sister Natalie and their mother Donna or seeing who chef Tina was before being hired at the sandwich shop.
To single out one character as the focal point is to miss the entire reason for which the show exists. Ayo Edebiri’s Sydney is as intrinsic as Carmy, practically co-leads. The whole cast’s chemistry is infectious; you become part of this make-shift family. Marcus’s journey from bread maker to pastry chef has been remarkable to watch, even if this last season didn’t follow as much through his struggles.
Richie’s growth, particularly in the episode “Forks”, made for the most satisfying arc. His willingness to let others mold him into a better person, helping him let go of the past to see his potential is very inspiring. Like New York was for Sex in the City, our Chicago is as much a protagonist shaping how the show operates. That close-knit feel really springs up, my favorite being an opener in season one where a radio DJ praises the city while Sufjan Stevens’s “Chicago” plays over a montage of locales and L-Trains. The ending to this season, if a bit uneven throughout, came with Olivia Coleman’s chef bringing everyone together, but with our leads in rather unresolved turmoil. The To Be Continued left me wanting more.
Brat Summer came like a freight train. It was the title of an author’s debut novel and a dance album by Charli XCX, the latter was asked about what it meant. She stated that is about being brash in order to hide vulnerability. This seems to be very much at heart in Andrew McCarthy’s doc Brats (also on Hulu), where he goes on an odyssey to interview his fellow teen stars years later. McCarthy was clearly affected by David Blum’s New York magazine article which cemented Brat Pack into the lexicon, as evidenced by the cordial but confrontational interview between them in what would go for a climax.
As the doc goes on, you get the sense that all the other players involved have simply moved on. Ally Sheedy loves the idea of being associated with it. Emilio Estevez enjoys being behind the camera. Rob Lowe and Demi Moore have had successful careers despite that. It is truly hilarious to see Demi almost become Andrew’s therapist during their conversation. The hold he and the others have still commands an indelible mark to people my age and younger. If you are a fan of 80s youth cinema, you should check it out.
