Here We Go Mama

Approximately 44 seconds into the trailer for Wonka, the Willy Wonka prequel starring Timothée Chalamet — a real movie, mind you, and not a joke from The Other Two — I frowned. Movies are dead, movies are over, we are, in real time, witnessing the eradication of movies, I thought. Between this and the Mattel story … what a shame that there just aren’t movies anymore! God smote the Barbenheimer memes with the SAG-AFTRA strike, but it was not enough to keep Wonka locked away in David Zaslav’s (Bob Evans cosplay, mind you) mansion. Many things over many years — hundreds of glitches in millions of multiverses, including but not limited to the “Karma” remix — had to go wrong for Timothée Chalamet to put on a top hat and ask someone “How do you like [chocolate]? Dark? White? Nutty? Absolutely insane?” in the key of uwu, the online girlie catnip.

But then, somewhere around the two-minute mark (after the fakest giraffe I’ve seen since the Lion King movie we don’t speak about, the words “chocolate” and “cartel” paired together, and Olivia Colman) Sally Hawkins — Wonka’s mother?? — appeared for .2 seconds and I sighed. Okay, fine, maybe Wonka is exactly what a movie is supposed to be. Cinema is big, emotional stories about divorced women finding a second wind, and movies about the boy Erin Brockovich of chocolate making, or whatever. Maybe there’s no middle ground, except for Todd Phillips copying Martin Scorsese’s homework.

Is it Reformation email levels of lost the plot? Oh, yes, absolutely. Will I be seated in a reasonably right-center seat on opening day? Oh, absolutely, yes. When Timothée Chalamet started dating Kylie Jenner I could only imagine that I felt how Hillary would feel if Joe Biden croaks during a face lift and Kamala becomes the first woman president — Me! But did inspire an ick so world-shifting, so earth-shattering that I did a 360 degree turn and came right back to thinking … you know what … this is the death of movies but so is everything else. In a society torn apart by unprecedented partisanship, we can at least agree that this is the series finale of America and Timothée Chalamet’s cheekbones.

The way “Here we go mama” puts on a pair of kitten heels and stomps around my mind. The actors and writers are joined together in an unprecedented strike. Here we go mama. Will I spend a day of my one wild and precious life posting engagement bait on Threads? Here we go mama. Spending a half hour trying to find the perfect light for a selfie, only to review all 27 photos and see that one eye is noticeably smaller in 26 of them? Here we go mama. Shoshanna opening her mouth to tell Marnie that duck tasted like a used condom? We goin’ mama. A plate of jamón ibérico for one? Here we go mama! 

I know that Timothée “homeland, homeland, which turned into dome-land” is capable of a silly goofy mood. “Here we go mama,” I’m sorry, is that mood. It sold me. This is the Harry Styles monologue in Don’t Worry Darling. This is Don Lemon purple font. This is “I’m on God’s timing not mine.” I can’t resist it. Let me get out of my Grandpa Joe position in this bed and remember that I love a mess.¹

Hello from a cliffside hotel in Mallorca, where I am posting disrespectful bikini pics on a girls trip with a friend from my wild recent past! And by that I mean: I hope you have read Jonah Hill’s laws boundaries for his ex-girlfriend, the surfer and law student Sarah Brady.

Brady’s critics say she is lashing out after a breakup, or that the texts should not have been shared publicly. But that is not a list of boundaries, it’s a list of demands. This is controlling, loser behavior. Maybe he and Keke Palmer’s ex are commiserating in a group chat together with, I don’t know, Mr. Big and Kendall Roy sending that actress home from Dundee after he rapped for his dad.

A programming note: There is a chat in the app about Emmy nominations, a list of summer recommendations en route to the paid list, and I’m gonna take a couple days off! Planning for a return July 21st unless there is something I’m dying to talk about. It’s summer and I want to slather on sunscreen and lay outside. Until then, you can find the full archive on the site!

Other Things:
The Bob Who Lived: Bob Iger, thee Disney adult, is staying on as head of Disney until 2026. (WSJ)

I’m With Her: The Santa Cruz otter who steals surfer’s boards. She is simply fulfilling her equally human-curious mother’s legacy. (NYT)

For objective coverage of Tory Lanez’s sentencing, according to Tory Lanez, read Meghann Cuniff:

Lanez nearly (and/or attempted to) retain a new lawyer but at the last minute decided against retaining a new lawyer … after she had already filed a motion on behalf of her would be-won’t be client. 

We are one nation under Soapy Hadid — “I'll wait to hear the troye sivan song when it comes on a netflix tv show I binge watch while on my phone” — but the new Troye Sivan is working on me despite a chorus so shocking it actually becomes kinda thrilling. (YouTube)

The Renaissance has landed in Philly — you can re-read my Vulture review from night one in Stockholm. (Vulture)

Bravo premiered The Real Housewives of New York City’s 14th season this week, and it was my second favorite kind of cast photo: everyone was dressed for a different occasion!

• Ubah Hassan: Wedding afterparty

• Sai De Silva: J.Lo Grammys dress

• Erin Lichy: Mother of the groom

• Brynn Whitfield: Tiktok creator at the premiere of the Netflix YA movie they have one scene in that is just Beats By Dre spon

• Jessel Taank: One of the three Golden Globes trophies that Tom Cruise returned.

• Jenna Lyons: Just left the set from an And Just Like That… cameo that will inevitably be cut

I think what we can conclude is that Nicki has not seen the Barbie movie, but that she will soon. (On July 21st) (When it opens nationwide)

That’s all this week! Thank you for reading. This weekend, as I do every summer, I will lose several minutes each day thinking about Chance The Rapper posting his very regular patio makeover. Have a good weekend!