 with Kevin Fallon Everything we can't stop loving, hating, and thinking about this week in pop culture.
This Week:
I'm a Basic Bitch Who Loved Belfast Charming and devastating. Humorous and profound. Whimsical and important. Personal and universal.
Nothing gives Hollywood insiders a boner quite like dichotomies. Think of it as literary Viagra. If deciding which wordplay-of-opposites to use as a film's movie poster pull quote lasts more than four hours, consult a doctor.
 Of course, joy and sorrow aren't polarized emotions as much as they are hopelessly intertwined with Irish people. The saddest events elicit the most raucous laughter, which quickly turn to sobs at the guilt-filled realization of how ephemeral that happiness can be. It's a generational absurdity, with my Irish Catholic family proudly carrying on the tradition: indulging in the delights of life with as much fervor as wallowing in the depressing details of its darkness. It's a lot of emotion, all of the time.
That is to say that the entire time I was watching Belfast, I couldn't stop thinking, my God, my parents are going to love this movie. That's a compliment. I think that's why it's going to win that big Oscar: great cast, respected and well-liked director, story that makes you feel deeply but also feel good. Plus, it took home the Audience Award at the Toronto International Film Festival, just like past Best Picture winners Nomadland and Green Book. But it's also why the film's pole-position status is already pissing people off.
After two years of the Academy quote-unquote "finally getting it right" when it comes to Best Picture, with historic wins for indie game-changers Parasite and Nomadland, Belfast seems like a dull, far-too-expected frontrunner. While, sure, it's not a fringe contender with provocative ideas from auteurs leading the way to the future of cinema, I think the criticism from its detractors can be reductive.
The film follows three generations of a working-class Belfast family whose lives are forever changed by the escalating violence in the neighborhood in which they've spent their entire lives. It begins by showing the community's kids playing in the streets, kicking around balls, hop-scotching, and pretending to be sword-fighting knights. But the frivolity turns to menace at the drop of a hat. Or, in this case, the explosion of a Molotov cocktail.
"Get the kids inside!" one concerned mother screams as a battalion of demonstrators storm the streets, hurling rocks and more firebombs through windows, into cars, and at anyone caught in the melee. The trash can lid that had been used by young Buddy (Jude Hill) during the innocent game of pretend moments before is now being wielded by his Ma (Caitriona Balfe) to deflect stones being pelted at them as she rushes Buddy to safety.
Sequences like this are made all the more harrowing because they're largely seen through the perspective of Buddy. That prism is also what gives the film its innocence and its humor.
There's always a risk of crashing and burning in a sea of insufferable precociousness when historical tragedy is shown through the eyes of a child, but Branagh has such a delicate hand on it and what he hopes to say about the loss of that innocence—and the desperateness to cling to it—that it works, especially with an all-time great child-actor performance from Hill.  The film is also mostly in black and white. There is a throughline about how escaping to the movies is a cathartic distraction in trying times. That has the most jaded among us rolling our eyes over how directly that panders to classic Academy tastes, specifically black-and-white movies that fetishize the magic of movies as an art of healing (see: The Artist). Add in Judi Dench and Ciarán Hinds as wise-cracking grandparents, and it might seem as if Belfast is engineered to appeal to the most base-level, unimaginative of Oscar voters.
There's a bit of the "cool kids smoking in the alley behind the school" cynicism and bitterness to that. Yes, it checks obvious Academy-friendly boxes. But it's also a movie about the precariousness of community, family, place, connection, and youth when an outside trauma arrives and forces you to confront what all of that means, and what you can or cannot survive without. That certainly feels familiar now.
In any case, as he should in every film, star Jamie Dornan, who plays Pa, performs a rousing musical number, a performance on a par with—if not greater than—when he sang alongside seagulls in Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar. That, at least, is worth the price of admission.
Send in the Unvaccinated Clowns It seems so long ago that it is but a flickering, fading memory, or perhaps even a shared delusion—lore that's only grown in drama with time. But in truth, it's been just a year and a half since Gal Gadot assembled a gathering of celebrities to sing "Imagine," a group of famouses so random it was as if their names were grasped from floating Rolodex cards billowing in the sky following an explosion at a casting director's office.
How far we've come from when these stars warbled off-pitch in order to bring awareness to, well, presumably something during the start of the pandemic—what, exactly, has yet to reveal itself—and expected in kind to be shortlisted for the Nobel Peace Prize. A harmless, well-intentioned gesture, it was instantly pilloried. Here we are mocking it again! But it is telling.
While not necessarily those celebrities specifically, we're at a time when people, especially all the famouses, can do something tangible and demonstrative to help others, save lives, and bring an end to the pandemic. And of course they can't be bothered to do it.  There is a particular sense of schadenfreude happening right now as the gauntlet drops on more and more celebrities who are revealed to, if not necessarily be anti-vax, have declined to receive a vaccine against the coronavirus.
To ensure, I don't know, some kids don't die in the pursuit of making a second season of a TV spinoff of The Mighty Ducks, there are strict vaccine protocols in place on many—if not most—TV and film sets stipulating that actors appearing on camera must be vaccinated to work. It mirrors the stance of many businesses and industries around the country, as President Biden works to push through vaccine mandates for companies in the private sector.
That means that actors who are not vaccinated have been forced to leave projects, or send them into costly turmoil. Because these are public figures who are often considered examples to society, each of these occasions have made headlines.
It's fascinating! It's enraging! It's, in a dark way, deliciously gratifying gossip! Who are the mashed potato-brained dinguses who won't get vaccinated? Give me some popcorn and let me watch them get dragged over the coals. The pop-culture event of the season.
First, there was the Eric Clapton of it all.
Then in recent weeks we learned that Emilio Estevez left the aforementioned The Mighty Ducks: Game Changers series on Disney+ because of contract disputes—and failure to adhere to the vaccine mandate. General Hospital star Ingo Rademacher was let go from the soap opera he was a major part of for over two decades after posting an anti-trans meme—and not being vaccinated. Ice Cube missed out on a $9 million paycheck for a film he was going to star in with Jack Black over a vaccine requirement, raising so many questions, such as: They were going to pay Ice Cube how much money???!!!
NFL star Aaron Rodgers was caught lying about his vaccination status after contracting COVID-19, turning it into a martyrdom tour featuring all of Tomfoolery Idol's greatest hits. (Leading with the chart-topping dystopian bop, "I Did My Own Research.") Making things even juicier is the assumption that his clay-eating wife-to-be Shaliene Woodley was at first blamed for putting anti-science ideas in his head, but it turns out she's currently filming a TV show with a vaccine mandate for on-camera actors. The gossip is good!
Of course in Hollywood, where woo-woo organic natural wellness crystal voodoo is its own pandemic, there are going to be a ton of people with the privilege to live such a lifestyle who evoke the same privilege in refusing to be vaccinated. Who are they? I can't wait to find out more. (I have heard rumors of who some are. I'll never tell. Until you corner me at a bar after a few drinks, of course.)
Just as fans turned "who didn't show up at the vaccine-required Met Gala?" into a parlor game to guess who might be unvaxxed, pay attention to what typically booked-and-blessed performers suddenly find themselves with an empty dance card. According to The Hollywood Reporter, many studios are now only considering or auditioning vaccinated stars for roles.
And it's not just stupidity. There are practical, costly repercussions to all this which can mess with the livelihoods of crew members. After refusing to get vaxxed, Miles Teller's COVID-19 diagnosis brought the shooting of the upcoming series on the making of The Godfather to a halt, setting fire to millions of dollars. Then there's the case of Black Panther: Wakanda Forever star Letitia Wright.
After suffering an unidentified injury on set, Wright flew to London to recover. But the actress, who is reportedly not vaccinated and is not a U.S. citizen, can't fly back to the country to complete filming, which has shot essentially every scene that does not require her presence. The Biden administration's new policy is that international travelers must provide proof of vaccination before boarding a plane.
In the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Wright plays the most brilliant scientist in the world, and this is the situation she's put herself in? Flop Forever.
All I Want for Christmas Is a 20-Piece McNuggets This week, Mariah Carey and McDonald's (name a more iconic duo, I'll wait) unveiled their new partnership, in which the elusive chanteuse will be presenting "Mariah's Menu," offering 12 days of free items when purchases are made through the McDonald's app.
This is so meaningful to me.
How often in life are you blessed to have your two greatest passions—Mariah Carey singing and eating Chicken McNuggets—collide in such a beautiful, profound way? We've been through so much in these last two years, but what a reward this is. Look what God has done.  That said, when the two titans of culture unveiled the artwork that coincided with this campaign, I had questions. On Twitter, I made a plea: I would like an oral history of the marketing decision to set this ad in water. Mariah, a red ball gown, the golden arches, and the ocean surf. Inexplicable.
 On the one hand, that makes the marketing campaign clever? Though it's a little lost on the 99 percent of people who are unaware of this meme and just thought, "Why in the living hell is Mariah Carey standing in water in this McDonald's ad?" On the other hand, that meme is arguably mocking Carey's relevance. A strange choice! Yet also—just pretend we have three hands—maybe she's claiming and owning that narrative with a sense of humor? Who knows. A great mystery of our time.
In any case, it was an honor to conduct this important journalistic investigation (i.e. send one tweet) this week.
Give Cecily Strong Emmys, Hugs… Whatever She Wants This happened nearly a week ago, but I haven't stopped thinking about how brilliant it was. On the off-chance that you haven't seen it shared millions of times on social media—or if, lucky you, you don't have social media!—I thought I'd flag it here because it's one of the best things I've ever seen on Saturday Night Live.  In last Saturday's episode, Cecily Strong appeared at the Weekend Update desk as a clown, sharing the story of her own abortion in light of recent legal attacks on abortion rights and access. It was dark, funny, bold, and smart. Beyond that, the timing of everything—her silly voice choices, her line readings, her use of props—was masterful.
I Am a Changed Human Something incredible, just really, really special happened in my life this week. A milestone, you could even say. I have seen House of Gucci.
I am not allowed to put into print yet what I thought about it, though I am allowed to tweet what I thought about it—make anything in this life make any sense—so you can peruse my Twitter for that, I guess.
In the meantime, feast your eyes at this, my favorite photo of Lady Gaga at the film's premiere, a capture of astonishing drama, stunning fashion, and unfathomable aesthetic—with Jared Leto in a fatsuit and prosthetics on the movie poster photobombing in the corner. 
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‘Belfast’ Will Win Best Picture. People Are Already Pissed.
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