Pardon My Perspective: On ‘I’m Sorry’

In the landscape of language, the ubiquitous phrase “I’m sorry” reveals itself as a peculiar taste enjoyed by picky and indiscriminate palates alike. It has woven itself into our daily conversations, transforming genuine remorse into a linguistic reflex. Upon considering my own tendency to apologize, a nuanced pattern unfolds, blurring the line between selflessness and compensation for a self-perceived selfishness. Over the course of my youth, “I’m sorry” was a common courtesy, a nod to the etiquette that framed my social dispositions. Politeness, embellished with the overuse of these “magic” words, shaped my verbal cadence.

Elfbar Ideology, Pt. II: On “Death Cult” Leftism

Content Warning: This article includes graphic descriptions of suicide and commentary on the Israel-Palestine conflict. Last month, I cited a TikTok about one woman’s decision to quit vaping in protest of labor conditions in the Congo. I wrote about the libidinal tendency for my generation to make sacrifices for victims of struggles that they have never felt. Not before the end of the month, Air Force serviceman Aaron Bushnell burned himself to death in protest of the Israeli occupation of Palestine. 

Levi Pierpont, a friend of the late Bushnell, wrote an Op-Ed for the Guardian this weekend. Pierpont urges us not to throw the baby out with the bathwater — the baby being Bushnell’s spirited opposition to genocide and the bathwater being the way by which he expressed that opposition. “Please, don’t forget Aaron,” he writes.

Wait For Me: Hadestown, A Show You Should Not Wait to See 

These days, being a proud theater kid is not for the weak-egoed. I’ve learned that there is a certain kind of pride you must set aside to embrace the wonderful world of musical theater. Over winter break, my friend and I purchased two orchestra seats to Hadestown on a whim in order to take advantage of Broadway’s two for one deal which promptly rolled out after the holiday tourist rush. Though I had most certainly heard of the show, I went into Hadestown mostly blind. The one thing I was not blind to was the fact that To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before actor, “Elsa please I know you’re in there” singer and all-around icon Jordan Fisher is in it, and just for him, I was excited enough.

Hater Friday: Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life

Like many young women my age, I love rewatching Gilmore Girls each fall. With the classic small town vibes and quirky cast of characters, I have always found it to be the perfect cozy show to watch when in need of comfort. However, the reunion show called Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life from 2016 falls short and is frankly embarrassing. While I went into the show excited to see the familiar characters and setting that I have so enjoyed, I was sorely disappointed. First of all, the depiction of modern-day Stars Hollow is all wrong.

‘Drive-Away D**es,’ Sibling Rivalries and Having Fun 

“The greatest films of all time were never made… the greatest loves of all time are over now.” 

Taylor Swift’s discourse on romance tracks surprisingly well onto the recent history of the great Gen X directing duos: The last couple of years have brought about the divorces of the Safdie brothers, Wachowski sisters and — most tragically — the Coen brothers. Creative partnerships tend to be tenuous, and most historic examples (Martin and Lewis, Nichols and May, Powell and Pressburger, to name a few) end with one or both attempting to stake their own claim — or perhaps needing to after the death of one half. Still, this recent crop of breakups, and particularly the first individual projects from Joel and Ethan Coen, represent at once a great tragedy and fascinating subject for interrogation. A duo best marked for their juxtaposition of brilliant wit with bleak subject matter have split up and demonstrated that they each brought something incredibly different to their collaboration. Joel Coen’s The Tragedy of Macbeth brought the filmmaker’s trademark visual excellence but stripped the exercise of any humor, and the new film from Ethan Coen, Drive-Away Dolls (or D**es, as the final title card and filmmakers call it), cares about little more than getting a laugh out of its audience.

The Oscar Nominees: The Ones I Liked Less

Well, it can’t all be great. As good as this year’s Oscars slate is in comparison to say, 2021, it still isn’t quite able to escape the inadequacies or odd choices befitting any body of wealthy West Coast liberals and reactionary octogenarians. There isn’t a Green Book this year, or any other film whose victory might call into question the value of the exercise itself, but (unless you suffer from the same brand of brain rot as me) watching all the nominees is never a necessity to cover the best of this year in movies. Here are the ones you can skip: 

The Holdovers 

I hate to be the curmudgeon unable to find much of the joy in this film about a curmudgeonly old man finding joy, but — alas — The Holdovers was not for me. I’m incredibly sympathetic to its warm nostalgia for ’70s aesthetics, even if the specific genre its cribbing from has never particularly appealed to me.

The Oscar Nominees: The Ones I Liked*

I may have aged another year, but I remain in the same state of arrested development that holds dear a decade-long obsession with the Academy Awards. This year, at least, has been an uncharacteristically good year for the kind of prestige awards fodder that ends up nominated, and though (as always) I didn’t like everything, I found a lot of really enjoyable bits in almost all the best picture nominees, even the bad ones. I’ve already reviewed Killers of the Flower Moon, The Zone of Interest and Barbie/Oppenheimer for The Sun (not to mention the excellent reviews of the last two from other Staff Writers), but there are six more Best Picture nominees that are worth talking about. Although the distinction is arbitrary, I’ve split them into two articles, one covering the ones I liked (or reservedly recommend) and another the ones I liked less (or think might merit a skip). Without further ado, here are the ones I liked: 

American Fiction 

Cord Jefferson’s American Fiction, adapted from the 2001 novel Erasure, attempts to simultaneously satire the current state of Black literature and backdoor a compelling family drama in the space of two hours.