 with Kevin Fallon Everything we can't stop loving, hating, and thinking about this week in pop culture.
This week:
The TV Show That Actually Feels Healing Right Now There are things we (OK, I) do when everything everywhere seems so incomprehensibly bad. There is the ceremonial staring stoically out the window imagining that "Everybody Hurts" is playing and we are poignantly framed in a moody music video. A filthy calorie orgy of mozzarella sticks, ice cream, and variations on the theme of "wine" is typically involved. Our trusty ol' friend, The Fetal Position, gets a long visit.
But those are numbing mechanisms, and they don't do the service that—and I'm serious here—TV does.
I'm not talking about those things we turn to in order to distract ourselves or turn off our minds, be it a Real Housewives binge or a classic comfort watch of Sex and the City for the 17th time. (Fine, 23rd time.) The Great British Baking Show, a cooking competition in which ordinary people bake cakes and I inexplicably cry once an episode, is a bit closer. It's the feelings that matter.  These last few years, and especially this past week, I've found myself drawn to the kinds of shows that don't ignore the Big Feelings of life, but guide you through them. Not shows that trigger intense emotional reactions—say, a weekly irritation download after each new episode of And Just Like That…—or center something tragic or harrowing. I'm talking about shows that trade in the everyday; that acknowledge that we carry with us a constant montage of the incomprehensibly bad, but also that we still need to get through the day, with all its joys and pains, and all the ways we fail and grow.
I'm talking about a show like Better Things.
Pamela Adlon's precious jewel of a series launched its final season this week on FX with two new episodes, which you can watch now on Hulu. They are lovely, as this series always has been. They are also needed, and seem to be right on time.
For five seasons, the show has been a fractured mirror to Adlon's own life: a single mother, a working actress, and a collector of passionate, loyal friends. As such, it's a tour de force of intimate, personal storytelling. Adlon directs every episode, and even details like the clothes her character, Sam, wears and the paintings that decorate the show's house are her own. The stressors and the pleasures that weave through each episode feel like they're hers, too—because they also feel like they're ours.
Better Things has a bemusement about everyday life and everyday things, when so much comedy seems cynical about it. It's comforting to watch a TV series that's not necessarily escapist, but also not too brutally real. It makes you feel a little less crazy about getting through the day when you watch Sam try to get through hers. You're transported into reality, not out of it.
Daily battles are waged with compassion and an open heart, but Better Things doesn't retreat from the unpleasantness that manages to infiltrate, despite our best efforts. In some ways, everything is placed on an even playing field. What are our family's finances and what's going to happen when mom dies and where can we park near the restaurant and also what the fuck are NFTs? In Sam's world, they're all equal, and equally impossible to answer.
There are times when, in the chaos of life, Sam will pause and see her child, her mother, or her friend. Maybe they're also in the midst of a personal crisis, doing something frantic or exasperating or otherwise preoccupying. Maybe they're doing nothing but just living—which is to say doing so much, even if there's a brief instance of stillness.
In these moments, Sam seems to be jarred to a sudden halt—as if time stood still, the heavens parted, and a ray of sunshine is illuminating this person she loves. She can't help but notice them. Life is forcing her to.
She sees them, and she cracks an easy smile. It's as if all the things she knows about this person, admires so deeply about them, despises about them, or makes her feel so close to them overwhelms her. The smile is a spasm. A reflex. It's a charge that crosses space and time and laws of physics—the way emotions do—and electrifies her, because she and them are connected.
It's the smallest little thing, but each time, as it has for the last five seasons, it makes me cry. Can something break your heart and make it stronger at the same time? Is that possible? Maybe it's this thing where, by tearing it a little, the scar tissue grows and now you have this heart that's resilient, fortified, and bigger for more feeling, more loving.
These smiles are important because it means life is happening. It means it moves on. It moves past the fights, the petty ones and the really big ones. It moves past the tense phases, just as it moves past the honeymoon phases. It moves past both the arguments about homework and the sweet kisses good morning; both the divorces and the great sex; the days that went well, the ones that felt like they took a year off your life because they were so impossible, and the ones that were unmemorable and mundane.  The moving on is never easy. In fact, it usually isn't. You lose things and you gain things on the way, but you are still there. You make it through.
It seems so simple, but it couldn't be more unfathomable to process, especially on a daily basis. That's why I can't resist those moments where Sam smiles. I'm not sure she realizes what's happening in those moments—what she's feeling and what it means for a person drifting through. But it's a beautiful, invaluable reminder that it is happening and may even be happening to us, every day. The moving on, the feeling our way through life, is so natural that we don't notice it. What a comfort to, through this show, remember that.
There are other things I've turned to recently for a similar feeling of catharsis. Bridget Everett's HBO series Somebody Somewhere is an exquisite example. Station Eleven was gorgeous. Even something like Encanto, which was so emotionally honest about what it means to be a part of a complicated family and unsure of who you are within that, did the trick.
But now I'm so thankful to have Better Things back, though I'll be so gutted to see it go.
Did You Know the Oscars Hate You? To love anything as much as the Academy loves making an Oscars telecast that panders to people who under no circumstances will ever watch the Oscars. Oh, and for making the people who actively appreciate and are invested in the Oscars apoplectically mad along the way. It's a bold strategy!  Someone over at the Academy was given a shovel when they were put in charge of this year's show—the one that was supposed to mark the Oscars' triumphant return to glitz, glam, and the celebration of cinema—and they have absolutely gone to town with it, digging a hole deeper and deeper, pissing off its members, filmmakers, critics, and the show's fans along the way.
Ridiculous decisions were made in an attempt to salvage the show's ratings slide and bring new viewers back to the telecast. To keep the ceremony to a tight three hours, eight categories will be presented before the live show. ("Finally, they got rid of that Best Documentary Short category! Now I'll watch!") And to presumably attract those who think voters' tastes are out of touch with mainstream audiences, a Twitter poll was launched to determine a Fan Favorite movie, as well as one to recognize a classic "Cheer Moment" from film history.
These ideas were lambasted when they were announced. Now that the actual details about them are trickling in, there's no recourse but to just laugh and laugh.
For starters, the embarrassingly pandering decision to do a Twitter poll backfired when, instead of being a barometer for what the general public was enthusiastic about, it was targeted by intense, mobilized fan armies, some of whom are historically criticized for their toxicity, who spammed the voting.
Yes, Spider-Man: No Way Home appears on the list of finalists, as the Academy likely hoped. But no other major Marvel release or studio blockbuster like F9 or No Time to Die did. Instead Zack Snyder's Army of the Dead and DC Comics' The Suicide Squad, neither of which were hits, made the final cut.
Also raising an eyebrow: the much-maligned Camila Cabello-starring Cinderella and, most confusingly, the Johnny Depp period piece you never heard of called Minanata, which was ostensibly buried amidst his scandals and only just recently scored a domestic release. As Adam B. Vary wrote in Variety, its inclusion here is likely "due to Depp's highly organized and extremely online fandom, who have rallied to support the actor throughout his career downswing."
As for the Oscars Cheer Moment finalists, not one film mentioned predates the year 1999. Is this really what the Academy wanted?
Worse, these asinine initiatives are getting a spotlight in the telecast at the expense of hardworking craftspeople, some of whom threatened to boycott the Oscars because of how offensive and demeaning it was to remove their categories from the show. This week, we learned that producers plan to present these awards an hour before the live telecast starts, and then edit the speeches into the show. Sounds like a lot of work when they could… just… put the awards in the TV show that is about handing out awards.
  
Just Another Feather in Your Lap People giving real dumbass answers on game shows is one of my favorite genres of internet clips. When I scroll through my Instagram, there's usually at least three a day I can rely on of someone saying something outrageously stupid on Family Feud while Steve Harvey loses his shit. But it's rare for one of those game show fails to generate as much attention as one did this week from Wheel of Fortune.
At first blush, there's nothing that different about this gaffe. The puzzle is obvious, and you're on your couch screaming because you know the answer. In this case, the solve was "another feather in your cap." But inexplicably, the three contestants keep missing it. Over and over again. It's two minutes of astonishing TV, but also absolute torture to watch.  But what could have been a crazy viral moment has had a second life, as one of those contestants has publicly addressed the "trolls" and his critics, apparently unhappy that his intelligence is being questioned.
"You go up there. Half of you don't even have public speaking skills. You go on Wheel of Fortune and go into the shoes of where we were standing. And then it will be a whole another conversation when they are trending and making donkeys of themselves," player Christopher Coleman said. "Just go easy on me and the other contestants because we are very educated people, and we don't want to be put in a situation where we are being cackled and publicly humiliated on a show that was a lifelong dream."
Like, sure. Fair point. But also, it's not that serious! Anyway, watch the clip here and be prepared to scream in frustrated agony, but entertainment-value ecstasy.
I Beg of You, Watch a Good Movie This Weekend It is my public service to inform you that the two best films nominated for Best Picture at this year's Oscars, West Side Story and Drive My Car, are available to stream right now. At this very moment, you could sign off for the day and watch! Your boss will understand! It's for the sake of cinema!
West Side Story is currently on both Disney+ and HBO Max, while the latter is also streaming Drive My Car. I don't have to tell you what West Side Story is, but I will scream at you IT IS SENSATIONAL, MY GOD, YOU NEED TO WATCH IT. The nation's collective crushes on Mike Faist and David Alvarez aren't burning nearly hot enough, and not enough of us understand why Ariana DeBose is coming for that Oscar. (If you're an O.G. 1961 West Side Story purist, great news: that's on HBO Max, too.)  And I almost don't want to tell you more about Drive My Car (a three-hour Japanese film about grief with English subtitles) because I'm worried it would deter you. But don't let it. If you can give up three hours for yet another godforsaken Batman movie—yep, that's the running time of the new Robert Pattinson joint—then you can devote it to something as good as Drive My Car, too.
Who's Excited for Lady Gaga? We will be unpacking this moment in history for the rest of our lifetimes. I never want to make light of it. That said, I have not and likely won't stop thinking about this stan account tweet. 
What to watch this week: The Batman: If three hours of Batmanning is your thing, live it up this weekend. (Fri. in theaters) Lucy and Desi: A Lucille Ball documentary that'll hopefully lobotomize you from that other Lucy movie. (Fri. on Amazon Prime) After Yang: A gorgeous film about identity and connection, and Colin Farrell's sensational abs. (Fri. in theaters and on Showtime)
What to skip this week: Fresh: With all apologies to my husband, Sebastian Stan, I really hated this one. (Fri. on Hulu) The Masked Singer: Stop enabling this travesty! (Wed. on Fox)
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The TV Show That Makes You Feel Good About Life Right Now
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