i just wanna be at a swimming pool, eatin' tacos and signing autographs, that's all.
5/31/24
Smithereens — dir. Susan Seidelman
My mom was in town last weekend visiting my husband and I, and we were looking to go to a movie all three of us might like. Due to a severe lack of viable new release options (Furiosa is a non-starter for my mom, If should be a non-starter for everybody over six), we ended up at the Los Feliz 3 at 1pm on Saturday to catch a screening of Susan Seidelman’s Smithereens, from 1982.
I had no idea Seidelman directed a movie before Desperately Seeking Susan, and I definitely didn’t know Smithereens (according to the program we were handed by Alison Anders — who introduced the movie with her daughter Tiffany as part of their “Don’t Knock The Rock” festival) was the first American indie to play in competition at Cannes.
I didn’t go into Smithereens with any expectations, but it’s now (is this hyperbole??) one of my all time favorite movies. We follow Wren, an ambitious if not particularly charming or talented teenager, who wants to make it in the early 80s New York post-punk scene. Played by Susan Berman — who graciously attended the screening and sat for an interview — Wren combines the haplessness of Uncut Gems’s Howard Ratner, the megalomania of Female Trouble’s Dawn Davenport, and the grating hysteria of Showgirls’s Nomi Malone. From my vantage point, the perfect woman.
Unfortunately, everyone who actually comes into contact with her is instantly repelled, especially the cruel but dreamy Eric, played by punk pinup Richard Hell, who strings her along with vague plans of moving to Los Angeles. Meanwhile, she won’t give nice guy artist Paul (the cuter than he needs to be Brad Rijn) the time of day, even though he lets Wren move into his van parked off the West Side Highway when times get tough. Wren careens through the streets of pre-gentrification Downtown Manhattan, making enemies and destroying any chance of becoming part of “the scene,” whatever was left of it by 1982.
I can’t write enough superlatives in praise of Seidelman’s propulsive direction (the film was mostly shot on location without permits) or Berman’s gigantic performance. I knew Berman was supposed to come out for the Q&A after the screening, and before I saw her I was literally worried about how she was doing. I thought, Oh God, what could have become of this poor ragamuffin after forty long years? Is she diseased, is she unhoused, is she a heroin addict? As I was mentally concocting a toothless Edith Massey figure shaking a tin can, begging us to throw her our spare change, up walks to the stage a physically toned, seemingly well-heeled, casually gorgeous woman. The type of self-possessed LA lady who seems like she’s carrying a yoga mat even when she isn’t. Could this be her, the disheveled gutter punk from the movie? Then the humiliatingly obvious realization came. She’s an actress. This was a performance.
Luckily, you can all have the same experience we did the other day. Smithereens is playing on The Criterion Channel. Close the curtains, switch off the lights, and turn the volume up real loud.
Bandsplain’s Grunge Series — Yasi Salek
It takes a lot for me to put a new podcast into my weekly rotation. I have my old favorites, and I have pretty specific taste (movies, music, tennis, Housewives, food… that’s sort of it.) Apologies to any comedian friends who might be reading this, but I don’t really listen to comedy podcasts, and I definitely don’t listen to to other wellness podcasts.
I’ve actually had to delete a couple of pods from my queue because I’ve recently gotten into Bandsplain, hosted by Yasi Salek. If your musical taste veers towards ‘90s alt rock, and you have hours of free time to kill, you also should listen to Bandsplain. I’m late to the party, but after hearing Yasi guest on Pop Pantheon (another great music pod) talking about Nirvana, I was sold. She’s currently in the middle of a season long, comprehensive grunge series. The Pearl Jam episode was an 8.5 hour two-parter, so I do mean comprehensive.
The premise is self-explanatory. She, along with a regular rotation of similarly minded journalist and musician guests, explains bands. What’s magical about Yasi as a host is that she’s able to totally nerd out (exhaustive research, precise detail, historical and social context, etc.) without ever seeming like a nerd. She speaks in a sticky California drawl, embodying the air of a friendly cool girl who might not eat lunch with you at school but will gladly share a cig in the park after class.
This monocultural alt-rock moment was huge for people who were the right age — both me and Yasi were 12 when Kurt Cobain died — but it was extremely short-lived. Our little microgeneration was too young for Joey McIntyre and too old for Justin Timberlake, so Eddie Vedder and Layne Staley were our teen idols, our first crushes. And though Gen-X music dudes loved Pavement and The Pixies, major label bands like Pearl Jam and Smashing Pumpkins (and especially arrivistes like Stone Temple Pilots and Bush) were never given much critical praise. Yasi is a fan before she is a critic, putting all these bands on a relatively even playing field. She’s as enthusiastic about Dave Matthews Band as she is about PJ Harvey, which (briefly) made me question my reflexive aversion to Dave Matthews Band.
Goop Yourself — Agnes Hewitt and Bryan Rucker
Speaking of podcasts, after eight years and 378 episodes, Agnes and I have decided to consciously uncouple from Goop Yourself. My work schedule just became… how do you say?… full time… and between work, grad school and the three hour time difference, scheduling became impossible.
Our little podcast exploring the nooks and crannies of Gwyneth Paltrow’s wellness empire was always going to be a niche proposition. We never had a huge following, but I’m proud that our audience responded to our trademark “skeptical enthusiasm” and got our sense of humor. I’d never thought this deeply about one celebrity for such an extended period of time, and though my feelings about GP are decidedly mixed, I hope we were able to give a nuanced, “fair and balanced” take on one of the most polarizing figures of her generation.
All the free eps aren’t going anywhere, and next month the Patreon is going down to $1 per month if you want to check out the back catalogue. We’ll get back on the mic sporadically, and in the meantime I’ll be sure to write about weird wellness stuff on this very newsletter.