Late last year, Sky News reported that Russian state TV Channel One would be teaming with Roscosmos, the Russian Space Agency, for Challenge – the first feature film to be shot in outer space aboard the International Space Station. The announcement came off the heels of Tom Cruise announcing that he would be partnering with NASA and SpaceX to do so as well, thus launching yet another space race, one that isn’t necessarily a “historic” milestone humanity needs to accomplish, but one that would inevitably be on its list of accomplishments. So hey, if we can afford it, why not?
The world of soccer has been virtually untouched by Hollywood for years. Why? Because of how simply un-American it is. It’s as idiosyncratic as Lance Armstrong choosing cycling as his sport: it takes a specific, odd American not to tackle baseball, or basketball, or football, but instead go for the outsider sport. Ted Lasso, however, aims to flip that on its head.
With its politics meets optimism duality, Ted Lasso gives the world of European football a jolt of American confidence. Determined on driving her ex-husband’s football club into the ground, Rebecca Welton (Hannah Waddingham), co-owner of AFC Richmond, hires Ted Lasso (Jason Sudeikis), a Division II American college football coach with no knowledge of soccer, in hopes that the team will be relegated and lose its worth. This, however, backfires. At first faced with adversity, Ted Lasso brings a morale and unified enthusiasm to the fragmented, divided team, which eventually upends the owner’s plans as the team begins to show more promise.
The story engine of the show exists to thrust American morale into the business and politics of European football, a world that can be such a “business” nowadays that it lacks any sportsmanship and team morale. Since the best teams in Europe have the most money, they buy up the best players and expect them to play well with each other to win games. However, when the gung-ho savvy coach is hired, it throws a monkey wrench into not only Welton’s plans, but the culture of European football as a whole.
The show aims to contrast the elements of American and British sportsmanship. The Premiere League is such a numbers game, where the best, wealthiest teams play each other over and over again for the top titles, that it misses the point of fostering a family. It’s a world where players are bought and sold, traded and loaned, and statistics make the judgements. Ted Lasso, however, introduces to his players what they’ve long lacked: confidence.
The world of European football just feels so impenetrable, that American ideals struggle to fit in. There’s a number of reasons as to why soccer has never taken off in the states. 1) There is no youth infrastructure for the sport. If you look at Europe, you see club teams that have been fostering players since the age of 11. And, as a result, 2) only the wealthy can afford to excel at soccer. Since soccer is rarely taught in public schools in the U.S., one really has to invest money in the sport: trainers, youth leagues, fees… it’s a sport that just isn’t as accessible to Americans. Perhaps it’s because there is no “satisfaction” point in soccer: home-runs, touchdowns, or slam dunks. And more often than not, goals are sloppy pieces of work. But perhaps it’s also because Americans crave the individual gratification of taking sole credit for a score, as opposed to the team-driven effort of soccer.
However, just recently, actors Rob McElhenney and Ryan Reynolds took control of Wrexham AFC – a Welsh football club that currently plays in the fifth tier of the English football league system. With a two million pound investment, the purchase brings American money onto foreign soccer soil with a plan to foster growth and push for a promotion in order to compete with the greater Premiere and Champions League teams. But even Hollywood money can’t compare to the billionaire oil-money out of the Middle East or the mob money out of Russia that owns teams like Manchester City, Manchester United, and Chelsea – teams that are owned by powers that supersede Hollywood money.
And perhaps this is why, only less than a month ago, the biggest clubs in Europe agreed to join what would be called the European Super League. This was heavily scrutinized by the media and UEFA, European football’s governing body, and was seen as merely a “cash grab.” With the organizers of the league promising “solidarity payments” that would be “in excess of €10 billion during the course of the initial commitment period,” there would be a €3.5 billion advance to “support infrastructure investment plans.” This came as a result of the massive inequality in European football, as more often than not, the same richest teams play for the top spot year after year – be it the Champions League, Europa League, or Premiere League – further eluding to the idea that the world of European football is, in fact, just one big bubble waiting to burst (FC Barcelona, the world’s wealthiest football club, is already worth $4.6 billion.)
Ted Lasso points out this gaping hole of missing sportsmanship in European football culture by reinforcing the idea of what it means to be great: it’s not just about winning, but also about how you deal with the unfair. Because more often than not, the best team, at least on paper, doesn’t win. But it’s how you come back from that unfair disadvantage that makes it a sport both on and off the field. I think Ted Lasso would agree with those ideals.
A mariachi band in the courtyard. Aziz Ansari trying to act lowkey. Teenagers hot boxing a car in the parking lot. A revival of a French New Wave classic everyone could care less about. A protest. A strike. One of the best first dates you’ve ever been on. And the worst. These are some of the things you may have encountered on a Friday night at the Arclight Hollywood. Yes, there are plenty of other art house and multiplex theaters in the city. But this one was special. I’ve thrown parties there, slept there, fallen in love there, fallen out of love, gotten in fights. It was more than just a cinema, but rather a romantic pulse that carried you no matter what phase of life you were in.
L.A. doesn’t feel so much as a vertical ladder you climb than a horizontal one, because at the Arclight, your past, present, and future lives intersected. Old classmates, bosses, romantic partners… no matter what career you were in or what part of the city you came from, the Arclight Hollywood always acted like an airport-hub of individuals constantly going in and out.
Equivalent to McDonald’s closing 153 outlets or Apple closing three of its stores, the announcement of Arclight and Pacific Theaters’ closure last week shocked the city and automatically sparked hopeful rumors about who could possibly save this mecca. Some things surely don’t add up: the highest grossing theater in the U.S. that provides one percent of the total North American gross? Its plug pulled just as establishments are re-opening? And with no mention or warning about the exhibitor going under? There were clear signs of trouble for Arclight just two weeks ago, when a Twitter user posted a photo of an eviction notice found on the doors of its Culver City location. ArcLight and Pacific executives have remained silent on the abrupt announcement, but it appears that a major factor in the decision was rent, the largest fixed cost for theatrical exhibitors. Culver City had a rent of $2.2 million annually.
If L.A. truly loved this theater – all of its inhabitants and players and dreamers – then surely it can be saved. If it won’t be filmmakers and studio-heads that band together to save it, then my guess would be Netflix, Amazon, or Apple, someone with enough clout (and money) that would be incentivized into buying out the theater for theatrical distribution for their own content, much like what Netflix did with the Egyptian Theater for Roma and The Irishman.
Among the top domestic exhibitors, Cinemark is considered the most likely candidate, having more solid financials than AMC and Regal and surprisingly still underrepresented in Southern California. AMC has eight of the top 12 grossing theaters in Southern California, so any more would risk anti-trust issues. Regal has fewer theaters in the Los Angeles area, but it’s been conservative in the nationwide reopening of its theaters already.
Among other candidates is the Arizona-based Harkins Theaters, which appears to have more solid fundamentals. The Mexico-based luxury theater chain Cinepolis has already made moves into Southern California with its Pacific Palisades location. Among the unlikely, however, are Alamo, which is in Chapter 11 bankruptcy, and Landmark. (Also possible is outside investors stepping in under the right circumstances and a reduced price.)
And, of course, gone is the famed Cinerama Dome – home of Hollywood premieres for decades, one of the few places in the country that could project 70mm film prints, and that damned curved screen from Hollywood’s old Vista-Vision days (three projectors playing simultaneously) that only looked good from a few select seats. But you didn’t mind it. It was a look you grew comfortable with.
In 1998, the city named the Cinerama Dome a Los Angeles Historic-Cultural Monument, giving it some special protections. But that designation does not prevent demolition or alteration. Any plans to significantly alter the Dome would have to go before the city’s Cultural Heritage Commission, which can delay demolition for up to a year allowing community leaders to develop a way to save the Dome.
However, even if the building itself will still be standing there, its soul will be gone. Gone is the staff that you could tell truly loved movies. Gone are the authentic usher intros and assistance to find your seat, and the cutoff time for late arrivals. It was a tradition that didn’t exist anymore. But the Arclight Hollywood kept it alive.
When I first moved to L.A., the first screening I attempted to see at Arclight was a newly restored 70mm print of Vertigo. Without knowing the sprawling layout of the city, I of course arrived late, with no ticket, in the standby line. I didn’t get in that night, but it didn’t matter – I was not the only one. (I’d since return to the theater with more successful attempts – friends’ premieres, birthday parties, special screenings). Instead I bummed around Hollywood that night: passed the Palladium, the Pantages, the El Capitan, No Vacancy, and wondered what living in this strange city might be like. L.A. has long been renowned for not having a “true” city center. The Arclight, however, was my city center.
It seems like all these years performing in bubbles has finally paid off. The Flaming Lips have always been ahead of the game. With a successful run of live (!!) shows earlier this year at the Criterion in Oklahoma City, the Lips attempted yet another run of live shows last month. The catch? Both the band and the audience are placed in pressurized bubbles in separated locations throughout the theater. One ticket allocates for one bubble, which can contain up to three people in your party. Seems like a gimmick, right? Both yes and no. Ever since the debut of Wayne Coyne’s bubble feature at 2004’s Coachella Music and Arts Festival, it’s become a staple in the band’s live show. And for years since, they’ve been very vocal about wanting to play a show with the entire band and audience in their own bubbles. And now, they don’t have a better opportunity to execute such an idea.
It’s also a testament to not just how ballsy they are, but also how innovative they’ve always been throughout their career. They’ve always been able to outdo themselves one way or another, whether it be an album released entirely in fur (Emryonic), releasing an album that’s required to be listened to on four records simultaneously (Zaireeka), or releasing a 24-hour long song on a USB stick encased in a skull (7 Skies H3). Regardless of what you think of them, they’ve always pushed the boundaries and tested the limits of what music can be capable of. Comparing their college-garage rock days of the late 80s and the trajectory they’ve travelled to where they are today, they look like the result of Pink Floyd and the Sex Pistols having a baby that fell out of a UFO, and landed in, of all places, Oklahoma. Their audacity to transcend musical limitation has always led me to believe that there are no “good” or “bad” Flaming Lips records, but rather impulsive explorations in how music can be consumed.
And now, the Lips are once again using the times to their advantage, realizing that, even though this is a time of separation, there’s still a viable place for intimacy. It also emphasizes what their music has tackled for decades. From their chaotic live shows to eccentric album releases, they capitalize on what rock music can achieve – a communal experience through personal obsession.
Ever since the 90s, the Flaming Lips have long been rock music’s most inventive band. And surprisingly, most of that time has been on a major record label. But it’s how they’ve marketed themselves that turned these freaks into such a success, being able to develop such a reputation for themselves and subvert expectations. Whether it be trying to record a 24-hour long song, or playing to a theater entirely capsuled in hamster balls, they’ve never been a result-oriented band. They’ve staked their whole career on the premise that it’s not about the destination, it’s all about getting there.
Featured image courtesy of Scott Booker/Warner Records
Last week marked the twentieth anniversary of Discovery’s release, and a month prior, the iconic French electronic duo Daft Punk announced their break up after 28 years via a video titled “Epilogue” uploaded to their YouTube page. After nearly eight years of silence from the band (their last effort being 2013’s Random Access Memories), the announcement didn’t come as a surprise to many. To some, it was a satisfying sigh of relief after holding their breath for so long. And to others, it was like losing a loved one. Daft Punk was a one of a kind band, or studio project, or collaboration, whatever you wanted to call it, but they operated in the same manner as a band – taking their influences and assigning them their own definitions. That’s what kept Daft Punk relevant all these years: their relationship with cool.
Throughout the series Friday Night Lights, Coach Eric Taylor’s ignorance of the outside world is what ultimately brings about its characters’ demises in the town of Dillon, Texas. By having his life only revolve around football, Taylor ultimately hinders the futures of the people around him, and only the ones that suffer are the ones who truly transcend their high school bubble. It begins in the pilot episode, when hot-shot quarterback Jason Street of the Dillon Panthers loses his ability to walk. Afterward, the pressure on Coach Taylor increases ten-fold, as everyone in the small town feels like their opinions about the team matter and constantly harass him. This, essentially, is what the show is about – community.
Mad Men is the best show ever created. And I don’t mean that lightly – I will fight someone to win that argument. But maybe that only stems from the passion I have for this show. The intangible effects the show gives off makes one feel like they can feel time itself passing. And maybe it’s because that’s what the show is ultimately about: change – social change, cultural change, political change… if television is a medium centered on change – a flawed protagonist changing over a period of time based on the characters they surround themselves with – then Mad Men is the ultimate form of change.
Over the weekend, Warner Bros. announced it will be moving its entire 2021 theatrical slate to Day-and-Date release on HBO Max. That is, when these 17 movies – whose production costs total over one billion dollars – hit theaters, they’ll also be available for streaming on HBO Max that very same day. When the news broke, most people shrugged it off and didn’t give it a second thought. However, the ones who were paying attention knew it was a turning point.
Radiohead’s Kid A turned 20 last month, which, at the time of its release, was considered polarizing: was it groundbreaking, or a letdown? It’s been regarded as the former, but upon its anniversary, a common response was: “I remember how game changing it was, but I can’t seem to recall a single song on there.” Kid A was, in fact, deemed a gamechanger – the first album of its kind to not only effectively use the internet, but also sound like it. They were a rock band that was not afraid to take a left turn.
On a rainy night last February, Adrianne Lenker played a show at Pico Union Project, touring for her excellent solo record, abysskiss. Half way through the set a woman started to have a seizure. Lenker immediately called for the crowd to give her space, and after a few tough minutes, it passed and they were able to recover. “I’m sorry,” the woman mustered on her way out. Lenker sweetly, and yet also seriously reassured her, “We’re all in this boat together.”
