Darlings, We're Worried
Cold Brew #206 Celebrities, They're Not Like Us
The Pop Culture Cold Brew is a collection of pop culture adjacency news that’s sincerely piqued our interest with frivolous diversions during these wildly unprecedented times— only without the celebrity worship culture. The Cold Brew also comes with a side of candor in critique pieces on pop culture and societal mores; get into it below.
Don’t Worry Darling, the Warner Bros film helmed by director Olivia Wilde stars Florence Pugh opposite Harry Styles. It sounded promising for some, except now, the underwhelming film has been eclipsed by the off-screen romance, antics, and allegations from the cast that went beyond the cameras— and even still rolling with its recent world premiere at the Venice Film Festival.
As film promotion grew closer to the premiere, Wilde has been on the usual press tour for her film, meanwhile showering Pugh with praise while the latter has been calculatingly silent. At every turn, while instead citing scheduling conflicts or promoting other not-yet-released films like Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer and Denis Villeneuve’s Dune: Part Two— which also stars fellow Venice attendee Timothee Chalamet. Now, the premiere has unraveled faster than Nathan Fielder’s Rehearsal. Conversely, the usual media-savvy Harry Styles seemed off his game by being ill-prepared and seemingly phoned all Joie de Vivre because I still can’t get over the accent(s).
Choices are made, and lines are drawn in the sand since, more notably, the film’s been mishandled since the beginning, but his stunt casting in his first major leading-man role has been non-stop forced marketing of Harry’s big break for the past two years. The drama, especially considering how online Miss Flo was during Greta Gerwig’s Little Women— this constant narrative driven by a palpable wedge between Wilde and Pugh. Fueling the speculative rumor that Styles distracted Wilde— while Wilde, to put it plainly, was dickmatized. However, something should be said about male directors who’ve done far worse with less vitriol thrown at them, and stans have been vocally toxic since Wilde and Styles’ relationship began.
Professionality falling to ill-prepared levels leading to professional disappointments, is frustrating. Yet, it happens all the time and can be understood within reason— but there’s something very off in this cast’s dissonant dynamic that seems unmixable. Similarly to oil and water, the incompatibility and unavailability to coexist or even interact easily are fascinating. Conjectures like #Spitgate aside, biased celebrity opinions have been speculative and annoyingly engrossing but what’s universally understood is Miss Flo and her fashionably tardy entrance, reminding the world of who she is while giving us an entire moment— regardless if the rumor is true or not. Now that’s a movie star entrance and a leading lady that knows her deserved spotlight.
Frankly, darling, I’m over worrying. DWD seems to be a sleepy hyped-up attempt at a cult favorite like The Stepford Wife— especially when the 2000s Joyce Carol Oats fictionalized biography of Marilyn Monroe, starring Ana de Armas, will make its premiere tomorrow. Netflix’s Blonde will surely cause reactions.
Lastly, my favorite moments from DWD are the supporting castmates; reminding me they’re also in the film because the focus isn’t there— Chris Pine, pictured above, Gemma Chan and her metallic/sparkly cargos, and Nick Kroll, who’s happy and present.
Pop culture moments are inevitable whether we engage; celebrity speculation is a full-fledged spectator sport to us regular folks. It’s like men’s fascination with fantasy football or whatever they spend their time charting. No shade, I have many male friends that suffer through this, but that’s their journey and good for them. It’s nice to have silly and lovable frivolous things that we indulge in from time to time.
As our over-saturated social media feeds try to weigh us down by doomscrolling to escape the news cycle with mindless pop culture nonsense, escapism is well-deserved. So for those like-minded nosy bitches like myself that love to not mind their business, even for just a bit, here’s the pop culture round-up we can’t get away— or enough of, seemingly.
Jane Birkin and A.P.C.’s Jean Touitou have teamed up for her first-ever fashion collection, proving that style is eternal.
Lea Michele finally made her debut as Fanny Brice in Broadway’s Funny Girl and got a total of seven standing O’s. She’s also decided to respond to the allegations that she can’t read by giving the old faithful press roundabout deflection answer with, “I went to ‘Glee’ every single day; I knew my lines every single day.” Candidly, if she’s illiterate, that’s her business— the bigger issue is the past accusations of misbehavior and microaggressions. Still, accountability and second chances are a luxury when you have a pitch-perfect tone on Broadway.
Brendan Fraser received a six-minute standing ovation at Venice for starring in Darren Aronofsky’s latest, The Whale, which always happens except on this occasion; it’s rightfully deserved.
As I wrote in last week’s Cold Brew, the eternal bachelor, and leader of the Pussy Posse has been partying it up with Tobey Maguire. Dicaprio has already been seen with a 22-year-old, and while that’s his prerogative, his penchant for barely legal women is questionable and giving weirdo behavior.
Oversharer Jennifer Lawrence saw the Sydney Sweeney red cap allegations and said, nope, couldn’t be me because the native Kentuckian— who voted for John McCain/Sarah Palin in 2008, tells Vogue she disagrees with her MAGA parents and has since been radicalized. If only she stayed mum on a certain former Hollywood producer.
I’ve tried to get over it and I really can’t. I can’t. I’m sorry I’m just unleashing, but I can’t fuck with people who aren’t political anymore. You live in the United States of America. You have to be political. It’s too dire. Politics are killing people.
Yet, they say romance is dead. If someone dared to do something like this, I wouldn’t even know how to react, but I wouldn’t be accepting as Kate Moss and her ex’s ass diamonds.
Twenty-one years ago yesterday, Britney Spears truly outdid herself as legends do with her iconically memorably performance at the MTV VMA’s. Though she’s had multiple moments in pop culture history, this particular time, she outperformed herself with the seminal classic I’m A Slave 4 U and gave a flawless performance, complete with live tigers and a Burmese python named Banana. The then 19-year-old solidified herself by encompassing the powerful goddess she was destined to become.
Lately, I’ve been steadily last-minute prepping for my vacation, but I finally finished The Rehearsal and the trainwreck that is Bravo’s Summer House. I’m not one for reality shows, but it came recommended after I also finally finished Vanderpump Rules— that last two seasons were painful to finish.
With fashion week starting this Friday and Emmy’s next week, it’s starting to feel like fall— but for just a bit longer, the sunny disposition and golden vibes are ideal right now. My Nora Ephron autumnal affinity can hold off just a bit longer. Until then, palm trees and sandy beaches are in my near future.
Con Amor,
Naomi x