We’re back! Did you miss us? We missed you. When we started this newsletter years ago, it was a multi-color picture with a few-sentence write-ups. Like any aging millennial, we felt like our curation needed to be more expansive. We transitioned to long form, getting in our feelings, chasing that insatiable feeling for what Sterling likes to call “the good shit”. A week off, good days and bad days, sometimes it calls for the moment to just pause and drink life in. At times it tastes like 38oz. Painkiller cocktail served in a repurposed pho container; other times, it's bitter and sad. I enjoyed the pause, but I’d be lying if I didn’t love getting back into the thick of it even more. Lots to discuss this week, as always, feel free to comment here, shoot an email, and don’t forget to like this post (lil heart button at the top).
I wrote about the 2026 movie slate a few weeks ago. Plenty of good stuff to celebrate, but something is missing. Call me a hopeless romantic, did letting my Colorado vitamin D-deprived body learn joy? I am bullish on the second half of the year. In less than a week, I’ll be seeing Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey in 35mm. Even sitting down this week at my local cinema, there was energy in the air.. Let’s get into it.
There’s another newsletter where I write 100 pages on how Toy Story franchise is the defining piece of cultural media for anyone born after 1985. But seriously…think about it, has anything stood the test of time more than Woody & Buzz? Some of my earliest memories revolved around Andy and his army of toys. You later realize the technological advances that Pixar brought to movies in 1995 were important, but not what drove its cultural impact. All of this is important, but its staying power has little to do with technological advances and its omnipresent presence in culture.
Toy Story does that; it anchors to important times in our lives. And the creme of the crop of Pixar enthralls the young mind, while also emotionally destroying the adult who is paying for the bucket of popcorn next to them. Toy Story 5 continues this trend while asking one of the questions any half-functioning parent asks: How do we raise kids in a world where technology seems hell-bent on sucking our souls?
All this and more is dealt with in the latest installment, which is actually Jessie’s movie. In arguably the most tear-jerking moment in Toy Story history, Bonnie inherits these toys from Andy, but they suddenly become closet residents as kids now have “Lily Pads” to play with. Bonnie is a bit intrinsic and has a wild imagination (my favorite parts of these movies are when the animation style kicks in and we get to see what Bonnie is dreaming up on the screen). You can see the wear-and-tear in the plotting of this movie; it plays fast and loose, but it’s all easily forgiven when you get Conan O’Brien voicing a potty training machine. I was moved, I laughed, and I’m not embarrassed to say I wanted to be a better Dad. It makes you remember the importance of play and imagination, at least for the younger ones in our lives whose brains aren’t ruined yet. It didn’t hurt that my 5-year-old, draped in a Toy Story t-shirt, simply declared, “I think that is the best movie that has ever been made.” I discussed this with the Pixar high council; I think the official Toy Story ranking goes 1, 3, 5, 4, 2.
Speaking of cultural institutions of my youth, Toy Story was the wholesome family movie that everyone loved. Jackass was sneaking onto the roof of your friend’s house, chain-smoking Swisher Sweets until someone puked (or maybe that was just me). Jackass: Best and Last isn’t as much of a movie as it is a clip show and a goodbye. Knoxville and his band of unruly risk takers even seem to understand one thing: Father Time is undefeated. There’s only so many times a bull can scramble your brains like eggs before someone has to step in and say it’s time to call it a quit. For a movie that includes a rectal exam done by a robot, a ton of puking, acid lip fillers, it’s hard not to recognize the beauty. I thought a lot about Jackass when I watched the documentary, The Dark Wizard, on HBO, covering the life and death of claimed climber/base jumper, Dean Potter. The demons the Jackass guys deal with are well-documented, and no normal human signs up to be bungee-jumped in a Port-o-Potty, but what makes them so lovable is that they do have fear. They want to back out, they cry, and there isn’t an ounce of malice on the screen. A long way to say: Men will lock themselves into a room with a wild ram and get continually destroyed before going to therapy. PS: Don’t make the same mistake I did and have any food during this movie.
I’ll keep this one short and sweet. I just wanted to shout out Carolina Caroline, which fits perfectly into my this is better than 99% of things you will probably stream this weekend. It’s not complicated, a small town gas station attendant meets a con-man, falls in love, as they travel across the country and Bonny & Clyde it up. We run the risk of overcomplicating things, don’t we? Sometimes you just need two attractive people, robbing banks, slumming it in motels. Chris Stapleton singing his tunes over a cold beer. I loved Adam Rehmeier's 2024 movie Snack Shack (strongly recommend), and Kyle Gallner continues to take on smaller-scale movie roles and make a big difference in my life (check out Strange Darling, one of the best twists I’ve seen in movies in a bit). Strong recommendation for a stiff drink and a movie night at home.
I had a great time at the movies this week, mostly! As much as Marvel had a super-fan in me, and I consistently question the direction and creative decisions, I would be amiss not to share the same concerns with the James Gunn DC universe. I don’t really know how else to say this. Supergirl was an embarrassing attempt at a movie. Female superhero films provide enough internet fodder to power AI centers, and I genuinely hope the actresses who sign up for them have a good support system. Milly Alcock, 90% innocent and 10% seems to be realizing in real time that she is trying to squeeze juice from sandpaper. At its best, this movie triples down on the same boring superhero tropes that have made audiences jump overboard on the larger Caped Crusader Complex. At its worst, this movie lacked an ounce of courage to be anything other than a table-setting for another Superman movie down the road. Fight scenes where they wouldn’t show our main antagonist taking people out, a virtuous worldview that would never even be considered with a non-female lead. We need to stop saying that people aren’t interested in female superheroes and start putting creative teams around them who have something to say. The biggest sin of all is the absolutely embarrassing needle drop during the final sequence. A movie that cosplays and mimics things we’ve already seen. Call me fatalistic, but bottoming out this severely in your second movie of launching a new universe has me utterly concerned for any future success of the DC universe.
While it certainly would be an overreaction to say that the show kept up its end of the bargain, a show like The Bear is a big reason I started writing this newsletter. At risk of sounding like a “I was into them before they got popular”, I remember distinctly churning over in my head how good the first season was, and the post-pandemic slop on TV was bleak. Anyways, I’ve written about this show likely more than anything on this newsletter, so let’s give it one final dish. Coca-Cola short ribs!
It’s long been rumored that The Bear was always designed to be a 3-season show, that was before its overnight success made “Yes, Chef” a part of normal vernacular. This show was something that was going to imprint on me, because, believe it or not, I love food and the kitchen as much as I love movies and TV. Peak COVID I was asked if I was interested in pursuing to being an Instagram food influencer, but instead I write to you each week as Guy Fieri looks for someone to take his throne in FlavorTown.
A brief preamble to explain why I likely enjoy this show as much as I do, and why I was more forgiving of its often-wandering middle seasons. The Bear was never about the wagyu, the lamb, the brussels sprouts; it was about the people who work in the kitchen. Other people have written much more poignantly on the importance of sharing a meal; I won’t attempt that. The final decision is an interesting one, and borrows from the other THE GRID favorite, The Pitt. A day in the life as this restaurant (bear)claws its way to survive one more day. It’s a decision, like most things in life, that brought out some of the best things in this show, while losing the possibility of having episodes like “Forks” or “Fishes” that elevated the show from good to being clipped in 15 seconds to bring you back to that moment you watched it the first time.
The final season, preparing for a service during a torrential downpour in Chicago. The pipes are literally bursting; they can’t afford artisanal butter; the steaks are running out; and everyone wants to kill each other. It’s a premise that you’ve seen a billion times, but few things are meant to be replicated on the screen more than “pressure makes diamonds”. The early episodes felt a little stagnant, but once the service started, at least for a few episodes, it felt good to be back. Different storylines had varying levels of success in the final season. As much as a star launching venue, The Bear was for Jeremy Allen White, it’s hard to argue that the incel turned front of house savant Richie wasn’t the real hero of this show. Ebon Moss-Bachrach played Richie with a grace and authenticity you rarely see on modern TV.
As we say goodbye to The Bear, let me leave you with this. Some of the complaints of this final season were the stagnant development of characters, Carmy basically turned into a silent shell of himself, sure. I think this show resonated with me so much because it had its finger on the pulse of real life in a way that few shows do. Does it make for the best television? Not always. Whether it’s ourselves or the people around us, we all kind of go at our own pace. Sometimes life crumbles so catastrophically around you, you have no choice but to adapt or die. Other times, change can be grueling and painful. One of my favorite pieces of writing is in CS Lewis The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, where Eustace Scrubb turns into a dragon due to his greed. He tries to peel his scales off, but he surrenders until he allows Aslan to rip and tear at him.
PS: The actor who plays Eustace Scrubb is the pastry chef in the final season of The Bear. I dare you to find someone who makes a CS Lewis → The Bear connection.
Other Musings:
I’m working on catching up on House of the Dragon (or HotD). Early returns say this is the “best” version of this show, and still probably not my preferred diet of Westeros. I’ve been pretty blown away by the performances this season, even if the first two episodes clearly were meant to be the finale of the prior season.
It’s kind of just thrown on Paramount+, but The Agency season 2 drops in its entirety. If you are looking for a more sophisticated spy show, I can’t recommend this show enough. It’s high-level storytelling, John le Carré-type stuff.
“Singing ‘bout him, least he was hoping
She left her listener enthralled”.
- After Rain, Dermot Kennedy
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