The New Yorker Radio Hour - Carrie Brownstein on Cat Power. Plus, “Materialists,” “Too Much,” and the Modern Rom-Com.
Episode Date: July 15, 2025For The New Yorker’s series Takes, Carrie Brownstein—the co-creator of Sleater-Kinney and “Portlandia”—writes about an iconic rock-and-roll image. In the summer of 2003, the musician Chan Ma...rshall, better known as Cat Power, was transitioning from an indie darling to a major rock artist, and the staff writer Hilton Als wrote a Profile of her in The New Yorker. Facing his piece was a full-page portrait of Marshall by the celebrated photographer Richard Avedon that puts her in the lineage of rock rebels of generations past. With a long ash dangling from her cigarette, a Bob Dylan T-shirt, and her jeans half unzipped, Cat Power “maybe doesn't give a shit about being in The New Yorker,” Brownstein thinks, “which I can't say is usually the vibe.” Avedon’s image reminds Brownstein “to keep remembering … to keep going back to that place that feels sacred and special and uncynical.” Carrie Brownstein’s Take on Richard Avedon’s portrait of Cat Power appeared in the April 20, 2025, issue. Plus, audiences have been bemoaning the death of the romantic comedy for years, but the genre persists—albeit often in a different form from the screwballs of the nineteen-forties or the “chick flicks” of the eighties and nineties. On this episode from the Critics at Large podcast, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss their all-time favorite rom-coms and two new projects marketed as contemporary successors to the greats: Celine Song’s “Materialists” and Lena Dunham’s “Too Much.” New Yorker Radio Hour listeners, we want to hear from you. We have a few questions about the show and how you listen to it. The survey takes about twenty minutes, and your feedback will help us make our podcast better. Take the survey here.
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This is The New Yorker Radio Hour, a co-production of WNYC Studios and The New Yorker.
This is The New Yorker Radio Hour. I'm David Remnick. Over 20 years ago, in the summer of 2003,
the musician Sean Marshall, better known as Cat Power, was on tour with an album called You Are Free.
Staff writer Hilton Owls went to see one of those shows, and he wrote a wonderful profile of Cat Power in The New Yorker.
along with it was a full-page portrait in black and white by the great photographer Richard Avedon.
Avedon's photograph put her in the lineage of rock and roll icons going back to the old days.
So in the portrait, Cat Power, aka Sean Marshall, she's holding a cigarette, which has a long ash dangling off the end of it.
She has a lot of bracelets on.
She's wearing a pair of low-rise jeans.
That's Carrie Brownstein, a member of the band Slater Kinney,
and a co-creator of the sketch show, Portlandia.
And for the series we call takes,
Brownstein wrote in the New York about that photograph
that was taken right at the moment that Cat Power
was going from indie darling to a wider musical phenomenon.
She has a smirk on her face,
some smudged mascara or eyeliner.
and she's holding up a Bob Dylan T-shirt and the shirt's neither on or off her body.
And I just, I like the cheekiness of it.
There's something very canny about her holding this up.
You know, you're not sure whether the shirt is covering Cat Power or Cat Power is covering
the shirt.
And of course, Cat Power famously is a fan of Dylan.
And her most recent album is Cat Power sings Dylan.
at the 1966 Royal Albert Hall concert.
I'm trying to imagine what a two thousand three New Yorker audience would think of this photo.
There's all these sort of juxtaposition.
It's Richard Avedon.
Like this is, you know, preeminent artists.
in his own right, capturing a photo of someone who maybe doesn't give a shit about being in the New Yorker.
Like, you're not sure that she cares about being in the New Yorker, which I can't say is usually the vibe.
And, yeah, she's not wearing underwear.
There's a lot going on, to be honest.
There are just a myriad of signifiers in this photo.
I think why I wanted to do this take on the Avedon portrait of Cap Power
was that I was curious to revisit this time in music, this time in both in my own life as a fan
and someone who was playing in a band at the same time as Cat Power.
And Cat Power is someone I do know personally, and she has opened for my band Slater Kinney.
we have played with her actually many times. And Avanon talks about how he's like photographs,
they're, you know, they don't reveal, this is paraphrasing, it's like they don't reveal truth,
but they're accurate. And I just, when I watch Capower, like I feel like this is a nonconformist,
like in the truest sense, you know, like this is someone who is perhaps asynchronous with what's
going on now or there's like something that feels anachronistic about it. And the difference between
a nonconformist and we are in a time of.
such conformity. The difference between a nonconformist and like someone who is reactionary
or someone who is contrarian is that, well, first of all, it's like a less obvious choice,
but also it's just who they are. And I think that also creates kind of a dissonance with the listener
or the viewer. I think there's an earnestness. I think there is a strong desire to connect.
And that is something that Slater Kinney, you know, I think shares with Capower that it's just trying to make sense of a world of phenomena, of our own, you know, purpose.
It's this sort of existential journey that we don't really want to do alone.
And music is a conduit and a means to not do that by oneself.
That is, I don't blame you.
you off Cat Power's 2003 album, you are free. I think a lot of people at the time assumed
and Cat Power confirmed that she was singing at least partly about Kurt Cobain. But I really think
in some ways that's beside the point. There's something about the song that's so prayerful
and redemptive. And when I hear her singing, I don't blame me.
and then she is basically also singing the backup vocals too.
It's like the second, the backup vocals are singing to her.
Like she's singing to Kurt or to some, you know, troubled artists.
And then the backup vocals are singing to herself as the artist who's suffering.
I think for me, I just, I felt that your band or your music became part of someone's identity.
And I think that is the greatest privilege and also really, really frightening.
I think especially if, you know, like I didn't yet feel like I had the ballast, I guess, you know,
I sort of was barely like carrying myself along, you know.
And I think I could sense that the Capower was, I think also overwhelmed by the ways that audiences.
you know, we're claiming her music.
It's like everything you wanted
and then you're afraid that it's maybe not enough.
And I think that pressure is hard.
And at the time, you don't really see it as pressure.
You just sort of see it as like this really intense ride
that you've put yourself on.
So the Avedon portrait accompanied
a Hilton Owls piece in which there was this line.
Marshall was alternately shy and demanding a solipsist.
A solipsist.
That is to say, a star.
Her triumphs were as engaging as her disasters.
And when you read reviews of this era of Cap Power, in 2003,
people were frustrated because they found comfort in her songs,
but at her shows, they felt uncomfortable.
The set lasted approximately.
an hour and ten minutes, during which time she talked to her friend's baby from the stage,
asked no one in particular if the photographer Mark Borthwick was in the house,
talked about her friends who had brought the baby,
directed a fair amount of bemused antagonism toward a particularly ardent fan,
asked someone offstage how many minutes were left in the set,
played with her hair, took her large sunglasses on and off,
indulged in rambling confessions
and complained about the length
of one tune from her current album
You Are Free
before singing an abbreviated version of it.
And it's like, you know,
they wanted like the fragility,
but not the mess,
and they wanted this brokenness
without the shards.
And it was like, what are we asking her to clean up?
Like, why are we making her do chores?
I think my point is when I looked back on this photo,
It just really reminded me how lucky we are that Cat Power still makes music.
And Avedon has a way of reminding us to keep remembering, I guess, to keep going back to that place that feels sacred and special and uncycical.
The musician Carrie Brownstein of Slater Kinney.
She wrote about Richard Avedon's portrait of Cat Power in our series called Takes.
Is she arriving home or going out, dressing or undressing?
The Bob Dylan's shirt is neither on nor off her body.
She's not covering Dylan, he's covering her.
Displaying, discarding.
Stop, it's only a shirt.
The unbuttoned jeans are going down, coming up.
The pubic hair is staying, either way.
Take in her morning after smoky eye, that half-smile.
Try squeezing between cat power and Avedon's lens.
The space is slippery, inaccessible.
You're not sure you were even invited.
In the end, you're the one who feels unknown.
As temporary as the ash on Marshall's cigarette.
Everything else is cat power.
You can find Carrie Brownstein's piece and a whole selection of essays about the New Yorker's archive at New Yorker.com slash takes.
There's Zadie Smith writing about Grace Paley, Ena Garten on Julia Child, and much more.
You can also subscribe to the magazine as well at New Yorker.com.
This is the New Yorker Radio Hour.
three of the New Yorkers critics sit down to talk about what's happening in the culture for our podcast, critics at large.
This week may be no surprise.
They wanted to talk about Lena Dunham's new Netflix show too much.
And there was a larger question in the room, too, whether the rom-com still has anything to tell us in 2025.
We wanted to share that episode with you, and staff writer Vincent Cunningham kicks things off.
Friends, we're gathered here today.
to discuss, to celebrate the state of the rom-com.
That's right, the romantic comedy.
They used to be a staple at the box office.
And even though that's not really the case anymore,
there has been a trend in the last, I don't know,
five, ten years of trying to reimagine the rom-com for today,
whatever that means.
And by whatever means, possible.
We're going to dig into this a little bit more later in the episode,
but let's give the listeners a little teaser.
What are we things going on with the rom-com in 2025?
Well, the rom-com, as you said, Vincent, used to be like a mega-commercial proposition, right?
But I think with the advent of the tent pole IP-type movie as kind of the only commercial proposition in town,
the rom-com has weirdly become kind of, if not actually indie, then a place for potential,
experimentation, you know.
We're in yet another cycle of, is the rom-com dead, long-lived the rom-com.
I think we've been here before a few times.
We're back again in 2025.
But if it's dead, people still keep wanting to make them, to watch them, to discuss them,
but it's true that it doesn't have the kind of mainstream cultural purchase that it used to have, for sure.
And to your point about the cyclical nature of the rom-com and its life and death, this is not the first time that we've,
talked about this and tried to explore the state of the rom-com.
Way back on Valentine's Day, 2023, can you believe it?
Were we ever so young, the New Yorker published a roundtable discussion where we talked
about movies like bros, U-people, and Shotgun Wedding.
Starring Josh Domell and J-Lo.
There you go.
It took me so long into rereading that to remember what Shotgun Wedding was.
The abyss that was the film You People did come more readily back.
back to me.
Yeah.
But shotgun wedding was truly forgettable, and that I forgot all about it.
Yeah, sometimes that's what it's for as well.
I mean, we're here because there are these two new properties that we were curious to discuss
Celine Song's movie Materialists, which is being billed as the return of the rom-com, and
Lena Dunham's Netflix show too much.
We have these two women who are saying, I love the genre, I want to reclaim the genre.
And we are going to talk about if they have to have.
So today we're going to be talking about our favorite rom-coms from the screwball era through the 90s,
and we're also going to be considering these new entries into the genre.
And the question I want us to consider is, is there anything new for the rom-com to do?
That's today on Critics at Large, our will-they, won't they, with the rom-com.
So as we mentioned, we're going to get into materialists, we're going to get into too much.
but maybe it bears laying some groundwork.
What are some must-have elements, Alex Anomi, of a romantic comedy?
What are we looking for just to begin with?
I think there should be a pleasing balance between fantasy and reality.
It should be, to an extent, relatable, the plot and the characters,
but it has to reach for the stars in some way.
Like, it has to have some element of wish fulfillment.
And that equilibrium is hard to get.
But when it's achieved, it's perfect.
I'm thinking about, like, pretty woman, for instance,
which is, of course, completely fantastical,
but has a kind of core of subjective relatability, like in its characters.
All right.
I have a radical answer.
Here's what needs to be in a romantic comedy.
Full penetration.
I actually myself do prefer a little sheet rustle, although, you know, I'm not afraid.
I'm not afraid of it.
No, I'm going to say romance and comedy, and you're all going to say, well, that's obvious.
But you know what?
Those qualities are often sorely lacking.
By romance, I mean just that little hopefulness.
Oh, the hope.
That little inner shimmy that you want to see someone undergoing, that you want to
feel yourself. And for me, that does have everything to do with, if you can, you know,
you're talking about relatability. There is a kind of fantasy and a romantic fantasy about who you
could be, like playing yourself into the film that is almost more important than the romantic
partner. And then the comedy element, funny. It does have to be funny. And that can actually
be a harder note to strike. Comedy is hard. Comedy is famously hard. Yeah. It's impossible.
I just think, and this is just straight up rudiments of storytelling.
The reason the speech has to happen is that there has to be a moment when all seems impossible.
I judge it by like how good is the moment when whatever it is.
Somebody's been caught lying.
Somebody's done some sort of betrayal where it's over.
And I want to see them climb that hill back into plausibility.
You love an obstacle.
And it's weird because in other forms of storytelling, I kind of don't like that.
I'm like not as invested in that kind of vertiginous plot, but in the rom-com for some reason, I do like it.
Yeah.
What's on the Mount Rushmore then?
So like based on these criteria and many more, there are many more criteria that we could name.
What then rises to the top?
Well, this is not the first time that I've sung this tune on this show.
Let the river run.
There she goes.
There she goes.
She'll take any opportunity.
Any opportunity.
Working girl, my friends.
Mike Nichols' working girl,
starring Melanie Griffith and Harrison Ford,
about a woman's search for love,
but not just love in the kind of tradition of like 1980s feminism,
love and professional fulfillment.
I have a head for business and a pod for sin.
Is there anything wrong with that?
No.
No.
And it's a great example of a complete wish fulfillment movie where career does not negate love, but in fact, compliments it in an incredibly satisfying way.
She can have it all.
She can't have it all.
Exactly.
And she can be it all.
I mean, it's such a great movie.
And it is so fascinating because it has to do, I mean, I have a whole argument that I just can't wait to trot out at some point in this episode about the condition of women.
in the 20th century and how it directly tracks onto the rom-com.
Another New York movie, New York is such a place in the rom-com world because of this kind of, I think, striving woman who we know me and I relate to, surprise.
You've got males a perfect film.
It's a perfect film and its reception history.
Eyes were rolled.
And now everyone is regretting those roles because...
Because now we love Barnes & Noble.
Because, first of all, Barnes & Noble.
the enemy in that movie
in the guise of Fox books.
Right.
The mega story
that's going to put out Barnes & Noble.
Now it's like a mom and pop shop.
My goodness.
Barnes & Noble is our last hope.
Like a little shoemaking atelier.
Exactly.
But more to the point.
So you've got meals a perfect movie.
It starts with the trope we were discussing
in our Romanticie episode
from a few months ago,
enemies to lovers.
And it's a clash all the way
until some, okay,
fairly questionable stuff
involving manipulation, but like all for the good goes down and they befriend one another and
accept life. But here's why I love this movie. I love this movie because of Meg Ryan,
who is utterly pitch perfect as she's exactly the right degree of frazzled.
Why did you stop by again? I forget. She's utterly functional and loving and adorable and
wears her heart on her sleeve, but she also is like totally who she is in the way that she was
in those like Nora Ephron movies,
also in When Harry Met Sally, another total great.
And so you're rooting for her.
You're rooting for the good side of him
that could potentially come out.
And this is, of course, the other fantasy
in romantic comedy.
The man is transformed by his love of a good woman.
Oh, yeah.
Like he is this, you know,
little shriveled soul divorcee
who just wants to make money.
and hang out on his houseboat in the Hudson River.
Right.
Who's transformed?
I always go back and forth about my favorite rom-com.
It's often love in basketball,
Omar Epps, Sanal-Lathin.
Sanaleithin is also in another one of my favorite rom-coms,
which is, it's a hybrid, comedy, drama, ensemble piece,
but romance is really at its core.
It's called The Best Man.
And essentially it's about a group of friends.
This, for me, is classic.
Really, it's about a wedding.
It's the lead-up to the wedding of two of the friends.
And it is learned because one of the friends played by Taye Diggs is a writer,
and he has written a novel, and it's found out by the character that's played by Morris Chestnut,
who's getting married, that way back in college, there was a betrayal.
Me, you slept with your best man.
And what ensues is...
is a drama of betrayal, including Tay Diggs,
potentially cheating on his girlfriend,
played by Sinhalyathan.
Ooh.
That should never have happened to you.
For me, the best man is the great text of a kind of black
Gen X sensibility.
They're kind of like, they have, there's incense,
and people are playing the guitar.
It's like sexy in a way that I wanted to be.
It came out in 1999, and it's directed by Malcolm D. Lee,
has continued to create these movies.
But for me, one of the good things about a rom-com
is that it can introduce you to a whole milieu
and a whole kind of social stradom
to which you can sort of aspire to live in.
Yeah, I mean, that makes me think of another point, Vincent,
the idea of kind of aspirationality.
And when the rom-com catches you in your own life?
Like, when are you watching this?
Like, in my early teen years, you know,
Like watching these classic rom-coms when I was myself on the verge of entering into the romance plot, right?
Or like the sex plot, I guess.
And having these movies transmit to me what to look for.
Like what are the values that I would myself want to adopt as like a person who,
is seeking her own love connection.
That's right.
I love that you're saying that because I do think that in some rom-coms,
in some of the great ones,
that issue is itself dramatized.
What kind of life do I want to live?
And your expectations around it or the fantasies around it
being actually defied in favor of something that is not at all
what you thought would be your ideal.
And that is so fun to watch.
Because the ideal rom-com is also a journey to self-knowledge.
It's not just about your problem.
your perfect wish fulfillment and you got exactly what you wanted.
You have to learn something about yourself and have your expectations defied and come out
realizing that you now know what love is because it caught you by surprise.
That's where the magic is.
And when there's chemistry between the leads.
Chemistry.
Chemistry.
So that you believe it.
Yes.
That's where the magic is.
Yes.
Yes.
And I want to return once again to full penetration.
Not because I actually think there should be full penetration in the rom-com.
Let's clarify.
It was a joke.
But the belief in the possibility of sex, because actual sex, you know, the rom-com is historically not an explicit genre.
There is a hint of forthcoming sex.
There should be, in the good ones, there is attraction, you know, chemistry.
the promise, the potential of sex, needs to be there.
Yeah, absolutely.
I mean, it's – look, I'm deep in the Nora Ephron thing, obviously.
I know that's rather typical and not going to shock anyone.
But when Harry Met Sally, of course, directed by Rob Reiner, but written by Nora Ephron,
sex ruins everything briefly before everything is made right again.
And that is also such a great part of that movie because that's also realistic.
We're like, the wish fulfillment finally happens.
And I just – I will never forget that kind of, like –
I know when she wakes up.
On Meg Ryan's face, which is so happy, and he's just like, I cannot get out of here fast enough.
Brilliant, brilliant.
You know, how are you going to work your way back from that?
Let's get to that third act and find out.
Let's find out.
This summer, two projects are trying to take up the mantle of the modern rom-com.
Materialists and too much.
How do they succeed or not in updating the genre?
That's in a minute on Critics at Large from the New York.
Okay, now it's time.
to get contemporary.
Let's turn to the 2025
hopeful entries into the rom-com canon.
Do they make it in?
Let's see.
Let's start with Celine Song's
materialists.
Would anyone like to offer us
a synopsis?
I can try. So in materialists, we have
Lucy, played by
Dakota Johnson. She is a
matchmaker. How many marriages
are you responsible for now, Lucy?
Hey.
Nine.
She knows exactly what makes a relationship potentially work.
And what makes her so good at her job is that she is completely unsentimental.
She sees marriage as a business proposition.
It's math, as she says.
When the movie opens, she is attending a wedding of one of her clients that she set up successfully.
And two things happen in that wedding.
First of all, she meets Harry, played by Pedro Pascal.
You are what we call a unicorn.
An impossible fantasy.
He is incredibly wealthy.
He's very handsome.
He's tall.
He's urbane.
He's stylish.
He appears at least kind.
And he's single.
At the same time as she's kind of flirting with Harry,
she runs into John, her old boyfriend,
played by Chris Evan.
who she broke up with because he was broke.
And so the movie is basically about this triangle.
It's about Lucy trying to determine whether she should go with Harry,
which according to her principles is the perfect match,
or whether she should go back to John,
who, according to her principles, is a complete dud.
That is 100%...
Correct.
Between the...
Nailed it.
the dashing, very eligible, viable Pedro Pescal,
and the dirtbag artist, Chris Evans.
Alex, did you like this movie?
Oh, my God.
I have so much to say about this movie.
I can't wait to hear Alex's take.
I have a feeling I'm going to be right in between Nomi and Vinson.
I'm guessing, don't tell me yet if I'm right.
I'm guessing Vincent loved, Nomi hated, and here I am very confused in the middle.
Okay.
I'm seeing nods, so I think I'm on to something.
Okay.
I know my fellow critics.
Okay.
No, me, don't feel slighted, don't feel slandered.
Not at all.
I'm just going to say where I came out.
No, I feel in fact seen and recognized.
And that's love.
And that is love.
Good.
But it's also hate.
Well, it's my love for you.
Yes, it's my hate for the materialist.
Got it.
No, no, no, no.
It's not hate.
I did not think it was a very good movie.
I thought it was trying to do something interesting.
And there were things about it that I liked.
but I felt it was completely, and I understand,
I think that this was intentional in some ways.
The soporific vibe of this movie,
the complete kind of evenness of it,
in terms of dialogue, in terms of tonality,
in terms of the characters being indistinguishable
from each other in anything,
except obviously like appearance,
was trying, I think,
to make a point
about this kind of world
that amounts to math.
Dakota Johnson characters especially.
She is unruffled,
but unruffled to the extent
where I was like,
is she, has she taken like seven Xanax bars
like before, you know,
doing every scene?
That I was like,
okay, I can see that this could be,
yes, again, a comment on like,
we're not talking about big emotion here.
We're talking about calculation, right?
We're talking about business.
And so this is the way relationships between people are.
She, you know, famously, and this has been talked about
and stuff written about this movie,
up front tells Harry the Pedro Pescal character when she first meets him.
She's like, I make $80,000 a year.
I know you make much more, basically.
She comes to his beautiful,
Rebecca apartment the first time she's like, how much is this place? He's like, it's $12 million, right?
The problem for me was that this, the same kind of soporific, like Xanax vibe continued, like, from start to finish for me.
But then that seemed to me to be at odds with the kind of like central conflict the movie was trying to the choice, which seemed the kind of the raison d'etre of this movie.
Alex, what do you think?
Well, I had a splendid time seeing this movie by myself, the chair next to me, absolutely empty, laughing out loud, enjoying myself.
Laughing out loud.
I was laughing out loud because what I liked very much about it, especially in the first half of the movie, and what I found refreshing, was that it foregrounded these materialistic aspects and made them the total focus and part of the comedy of the movie right up top.
We were talking about Jane Austen a few weeks ago.
This is a world in which everybody knows how much the eligible mate has per year.
And the material conditions of what that marriage will look like are everything to determining whether there's compatibility.
And though we like to think we've moved so far from this world and we like to flatter ourselves that we care about such different things, I don't think that's really so much the case.
And this is a very, like, harsh light shown on that.
There's a really fun opening where it begins with a caveman couple and a scene of courtship that is both ridiculous and somewhat touching and cuts to contemporary Manhattan where Dakota Johnson is click-clacking around her click-clack heels.
But, you know, what I like about it up front is you get these interviews between the Dakota Johnson character and her clients.
And you see that all of them, first of all, have this desperation around them.
And I found the frank acknowledgement that worth and the acknowledgement of worth is what people are looking for in the dating market to be funny and to feel true.
I didn't, you know, is it cynical?
It's absolutely cynical.
But part of the promise of the movie is that it's going to break down that cynicism and get to the warmer crust underneath.
So therefore you have the Chris Evans character.
And what got me there was it is for Lucy this choice between the past and the future.
Chris Evans' character is living, he's 37, he lives like he's 27.
And I found that funny too, like his horrible apartment with his gross roommates.
You know, there's a wince of recognition from me.
Like, if you're a woman, you've seen that apartment.
Possibly if you're a man.
It's not good.
It's not a good feeling.
And I found the truthfulness of that and the fact that she wouldn't want to go back there, refreshing, and I enjoyed it.
And I also admit to being absolutely.
fascinated by the affectlessness of Dakota Johnson.
Like, it's fascinating.
It's fascinating.
In part because I think in Dakota Johnson, you have a really capital A adult.
She is living in her uncluttered apartment.
She's making money for herself.
She looks really great.
She's focused on her endgame.
She's adulting all the way.
And that kind of character, I think, has actually fallen out a bit of the rom-com space and of...
Someone who actually has it together?
Yeah, someone who actually has it together.
Then, of course, the problem becomes...
that there's nothing underneath.
That you don't understand.
You don't see what the Chris Evans character is seeing in her,
and the movie doesn't try to make you see it either.
It just relies on the idea that they had a pass together.
It relies on, you know, him declaring his feelings for her inexplicably.
And while she treats him quite badly.
The inexplicability, that's what I'm trying to say.
So it did all fall apart, in my opinion.
And my question for you guys and for the audience of this movie,
and for Celine's song is,
Is there no middle ground?
Whence the grown-up?
Where's the grown-up man option
who isn't this weird corporate,
I'm going to take you only to sushi restaurants person?
Or an absolute mess, who I'm sorry, I can't respect.
Yeah.
Well, I think part of that is like the description
of Dakota Johnson's character that you offered at the beginning,
which is she's the middle ground.
She is neither of those things.
One of my favorite things about this film,
and this is one of the reasons that you're totally,
right and profiling me, I loved it, was, in fact, the performances.
Because Nomi's right.
When we think about the rom-com, we do think about relatability.
And with relatability comes naturalism in acting.
And this movie's like, nope, these people don't act like people.
Yeah.
And the dual meaning, it seems to me, of the title is like, yes, there's economic materialism,
but there's also a kind of spiritual material.
What if there's no great soul either?
What if people aren't these bundle of wonderful qualities that are waiting to be awakened by love, right?
The self-realization thing that you mentioned, Alex.
What if that's not in play, actually?
It seemed to me to be a counterfactual exercise.
What if we just are an accrual?
Like, yes, we have histories, but we're not some great thing beneath a surface.
And so the awkwardness of all the performances to me seem to be part of a kind of mission.
statement, which I admired the commitment to it all through the film.
I don't really think that we're supposed to think that she and Chris Evans are really
some great all-compatible.
Like every single backstory shot is just of them.
There's one where they get out of a car in the middle of what seems to be Times Square,
and they're just yelling at each other because of, you know, it's their anniversary,
and there's this shitty date and nothing that he does is good enough.
He's not, it's not like he's poor, but thoughtful.
It's not like he's poor, but particularly funny.
Yeah.
He's kind of nice to her, but that's it.
He's just poor.
Yeah, he's just poor.
Come on, you guys.
He's a handsome guy.
And not even poor.
He's a hot man.
He's a hot man.
And so, by the way, is Pedro Pascal.
And then there was a great big joke in the middle of the movie.
I won't let it go.
But he has done things to sort of enhance his viability, which calls into question even his sort of dashing exterior.
But one thing I do want to highlight is that we won't spoil it.
But there is like somewhere in the middle of this movie, we are reminded that beneath all dating is also the like the specter of violence.
Right.
And so this hope, this aspiration is a great big risk that why are we taking it?
It really does call the whole enterprise into question in a way that again, I thought was brave.
but also made me think maybe it's not a romantic comedy.
It seemed to me to be just like a romantic thriller or horror movie
that was marketed in this way because of it wants to subvert a thing.
I don't know that this movie believes in love.
That's what I like about it.
This movie's like, no, we're all alone.
I would like to talk about a story that does believe in love,
a TV show called Too Much.
It's written, produced, largely directed by B,
now a seasoned entrant into this melee, which is Lena Dunham.
And it is about a young woman named Jessica, played by, for me, and I'll get into my take,
the brilliant Megan Stalter, who has left New York after a disastrous breakup and moved to London
and immediately first through kind of a hookup at a bar, immediately finds herself in the throes of a new romance.
I will add another drop into the cut by saying that the personality mix is kind of what this is all about.
The Megan Stultor character, Jessica Salmon, is the too much of the title.
She is going to say whatever comes to her mind as soon as it comes to her mind.
She's the opposite in every way of who Dakota Johnson is in materialists.
She's going to be as much herself as possible, and that person is brassy, loud, out there,
unafraid to look like a total mess, which she is at the start of the same.
series and her love object is this indie musician Felix Raman who she meets at a pub and he is much lower key.
He's conventionally handsome whereas, and this is something that the show I think wonderfully does not emphasize, but it is part of the subtext.
The Jessica character is like this fat woman and he's sort of like this conventionally handsome guy.
And he has had this dark relationship to drugs and alcohol.
He's now sober and kind of trying to stand the straight and narrow.
But he is not part of grown-up life.
And she sort of is.
She has a job.
She's in London to be a producer on a Christmas ad.
But he in many ways seems more grown up than she does.
While on paper, she's the one who's more grown up.
And I think the series really works with that.
Again, these questions of what is attraction, but also how does that translate into making a life together?
And how do these sort of youthful questions of sex and love?
an infatuation lead into something more stable, I think that's at the heart of this series, too.
Yeah. And one other thing that I think we should note is that this show was produced by Working Title,
which is a production company that has worked on kind of the most famous British rom-coms, you know,
like Love Actually and like Notting Hill and, you know, that whole genre. And so, and the series
itself plays with that. You know, Jessica as a kind of expat who's coming to London and has
these dreams, these fantasies based on watching exactly these rom-coms, is coming to this new city
imagining that she might find her kind of British lover that answers certain kind of
either Jane Austenian or kind of the contemporary version of that ideas that she has in her mind.
about what makes a romance and what ends up happening.
And this is kind of part of the restructuring
of the whole idea of the rom-com in the series
is life happens in a different way
than what she might fantasize about.
It's interesting, though.
And first of, I mean, I am a big fan of Lena Delam's work.
The first season of girls, I think, is just...
Well, yeah, I mean, nothing like that will ever be repeated.
It's just such a fastball.
And I think she's done it again.
I think she's done it again.
It really is a show about a kind of life cycle of the most intense parts of romantic couplings.
Breakups and beginnings.
Two things that are equally, if different in valence, equally kind of unbearable.
The texting, the waiting, the roller coaster of emotions that happens in the early parts of a relationship.
that kind of make it impossible to,
Jessica has come to work to London,
and she can barely even pay attention to work.
There's a capsule episode where she stays up all night,
knowing that she's got important stuff to do,
cannot do it because they're talking,
they're watching movies, they're having sex,
can't focus on anything.
And on the other hand, she's fixating on her breakup.
Her ex-Zev, who's played by Michael Zegan,
is in a relationship with a kind of influencer
who's played by Emily Wryden.
And she's watching all of their videos, keeping a diary on a secret Instagram, which is directed toward this influencer whose name is Wendy.
And so this obsession, the horrible bits of love, I just thought it was great.
I love what you say. And yet I have a question for you.
And that question is, did you like the relationship at the heart of this?
TV show? Did that work for you? Do I like the relationship? Did that give you rom-commy?
Ooh, will they or won't they? Or how's this going to go? Well, because it's like they get to, it's almost not
that because they're so together at the beginning. And part of it is that the, like, absolute mania of the
beginning of the relationship when you're not even sure if it's the right thing to do and you're
spending probably too much time together. So I liked, I believed the relationship for sure.
did I like it?
No, I was harrowed by it.
You were harrowed by it.
There you have it, folks.
It's harrowing.
And there you have it, folks.
It's harrowing.
And I will tell you why.
Okay, so what were you harrowed about?
Because apropos what you were saying, Alex, about like, the will there, won't they?
They will, from the very beginning is the thing, which I thought was very interesting and an interesting choice.
Because once again, you know, we talked.
talked about materialists, then it's kind of like weird relationship to like, is this even a
rom-com?
Here, in a different way, I think that's a question as well.
Because from the very beginning, it's like they move in together, essential.
I mean, not move in together.
You know, it's like.
Some of us are like this.
They shock up.
No, no, no.
I'm not saying it that it doesn't.
Serial relationship representation.
Yeah.
Yeah.
No, I'm not saying it doesn't happen.
I'm just saying it's a particular choice to say we're going in.
We're meeting at the bar.
and we're moving it.
Like, it's just a different type of thing.
No, you're exactly right.
They're meeting.
They're fucking.
They're spending all night talking.
They're in each other's lives.
But there's the bigger question of,
will these two very, very different people
find compatibility and kind of a stability together?
And in one way, even beyond the way the show works,
we know they will because this is a kind of a Romano Clay show.
It's based on Lena Dunham's relationship with her now husband,
Louis Felber, who is her co-create.
on the show. And there are strong notes of her ex, Jack Antonoff, in the ex who she leaves in New York,
who is not a Jack Antonoff mega producer, but is this kind of failing music writer who's really
self-serious and goes from this kind of love bomber character into this much darker,
um, egomaniacal putter downer of Jess. He's a putter downer. He's a real putter downer. So here's what
I think about this show. I got very irritated by the Jess character. It's not a fact I'm proud
of necessarily, but it's just what it is. She was too much for me for a while. Yeah. Like,
I just felt like her expectations for the relationship were things that would serve her in every
single particular, finding someone who would kind of just be able to like accommodate her in every
single way without having to move an inch in a direction towards accommodating the needs of this guy. And I've seen
five episodes, I think there are 10 total.
There's 10, yeah.
So maybe that will change.
But there's a lot of putting up with Jess and kind of the chillness of Felix.
And to me, I sort of started to feel like, you know, Lena Dunham specializes in these over-the-top female characters.
That's what made girls such a lightning rod of discussion, I think, in a lot of ways.
And I really admire her for that.
And yet I felt this kind of self-justifying note in some of this where, and I don't know if this changes later in the series.
But it just felt like a lot of taking a mile and giving no inches on the part of the character, Jess.
And where she really came alive to me was in this flashback episode about her first relationship.
And I like that the show accommodates the space for that, this kind of anti-rom-com, basically, in this long episode where you have this super meat cute.
They meet at a bar.
And he, like, her pizza has been taken and her friends have left.
And he just swoops in like a prince charming.
And he loves a hell out of her.
She's the best. She's so great. And over time, you just see like a noose tightening. And he starts withholding affection. He starts criticizing her body and her fashion choices. He just becomes cruel and cold and manipulative. And that, talk about harrowing, utterly harrowing. So that brings a lot of sympathy to the character. And I love what Lena Dunham did with that anti-romcom format, the falling out of love and the realizing that you've been betrayed by love. I thought that was brilliant.
I will absolutely keep watching this show.
But at the moment, I'm wondering, and maybe this has to do with the materialists also,
these are two totally, these are just like holes of straight womanhood that are the extremes.
One is this like adult robot.
Like, I am adulting.
And the other is this, yeah, and the other is this like.
Absolute mess.
Yeah, but like a child, like needs a caretaker, insists on her independence, but actually insists on being taken care.
hear of at all times. And I'm looking for the one who accommodates both.
Romantic comedies have always reflected their era's gender dynamics. So what do these
rom-coms have to say about ours? That's in a minute on critics at large.
Alex, earlier, you mentioned that you had a theory to unspool about the rom-com and the changing
fate of women in their lives. I would love to hear this take on court.
You ready to unspool that threat?
Unspool.
Unfurl.
Unfurl.
Unferl.
All different kinds of metaphors I'm offering.
I like it.
Mm-hmm.
Yeah.
Well, so Nomi was talking earlier about this kind of like projection onto these figures in the rom-com and the need to project on.
And I do think that the rom-com really gets its lifeblood from reflecting back women's circumstances in this realistic but also idealized way, as Nomi was saying.
And because the economic, the political, and the domestic fate of women has changed utterly over the last, you know, 100 years just so happening to coincide with the history of cinema itself, you know, we get this kind of track record of female fantasy of what life and love is. And I find that really interesting.
So like, you know, we have earlier rom-coms. Like, I love the classic Tracy Hepburn.
rom-coms. I don't know if that's big for you guys, but like, those movies are sparkling and
charming and hilarious. And of course, chemistry up to the nines, you know, lifelong semi-secret
relationship, like, hello, there it is on screen. And like, so a classic example of that is the
movie Adams Rib, which was made in 1949, was directed by George Cooker and from screenplay
written by Ruth Gordon and Garson Canaan. And it's about married lawyers who oppose each other in
court and they oppose each other on the question of men and women's rights and relationships.
And so you have this great view into a time when women had just, you know, been working during
World War II when the men were gone. Now they have been powered like never before, but they're on,
as we know, the cusp of the regressive 1950s. And so you have Spencer Tracy as a prosecutor,
Catherine Hepburn as a defense attorney. She is defending a woman who tried to kill her husband
because he was having an affair, he is prosecuting that guy.
And you get such comedic, like, friction like no other of this couple going up against one another.
But you also have real tension because this starts to eat into their own relationship.
And this kind of drives them apart before they come back together.
So those are some really real issues getting worked out in the space of one very funny comic movie.
And then, like, cutting ahead to the rom-coms that Nomi and I love.
of, like, in the 80s, everything has changed. Women, suddenly, it's not taboo to pursue a career.
There is the beginning of the having it all discourse, the, like, ruinous having it all discourse,
where there is this idea that you can wear your shoulder pads and perhaps have, get higher up on the corporate ladder,
or have a career as a journalist as Sally does. And when Harry met Sally, even though we don't know very much about her career as a journalist,
divorce is an option. So the rom-com has to give you a relationship that, first of all,
feel like it's just settling because we now know divorce is an option. It has to like sell that fantasy of the empowered women back to women. And when it does, like we eat it up with a spoon. We totally do. Guilty is charge. Yeah. Because what could be really more perfect? Yeah. Career fulfillment and love fulfillment. Yeah. And someone who recognizes, you know, your value in in both areas, basically. And now I feel like we're in a little bit, I wonder if the crisis in rom-coms,
has to do with a crisis in how adult women want to be or want to see themselves.
Because, again, these characters in too much and in materialists are on total opposite poles to a point of extremity that I find instructive.
And neither of them seems to me to be living a life that, like, I like to think that the ideal romantic comedy heroine has a little bit of frazzle.
Not too much, like a little bit of relatable frazzle.
And in too much, it's all frazzle.
And in materialists, it's absolutely zero frazzle.
She is a straightened ponytail.
Like, that's what she is.
So, you know, where are women wanting to see ourselves?
And also, where do men come into this equation?
Right.
And is a little bit of frazzle, but everything's going to be okay, is that just the romantic expression of Clinton-era political economy?
Yeah.
Is that just the end of history?
Because what's interesting about materialist is the fact that you feel that certainly the Chris Evans character could fall off the end of the earth.
And there is precarity such that there is kind of danger in it.
You know, I don't want to do like any kind of wrote identity politics, but it does seem to me interesting that Celine Song has created a world of mostly white people.
and is not herself white and was not born in this country.
And therefore, some of the gimlet-eyed stuff that we're watching in this movie is an outsider's look in to perhaps a white middle class that doesn't really exist anymore.
Yeah.
And is fraying and is falling apart.
So all of a sudden, class differences are not just aesthetic.
They are existential.
Yeah.
And I wonder if that's our change.
political economy sort of asserting itself.
I think there's also a point to be made here that too much takes place in England,
while materialist takes place in America, in New York.
I think you're absolutely right.
It's existential, the class thing, or there's a sense that it could potentially be life and death.
Save yourself and hitch your wagon to the star of Pedro Pascal, who will never go hungry.
Right.
You will never go hungry.
Please, Daddy, save us, save us with your like $12 million loft, you know?
That's right.
Because that's the only chance we're grasping at like, please, like the Bezos of the world.
Like, those are.
Send me to space, Daddy.
Send me to space, daddy.
That's the only way to be safe, right?
Whereas I do think that in too much, there is a scene early on.
I don't remember if it's the first or the second episode where Felix is on the dole.
It's implied.
He goes to talk to like the welfare office and is talking to this guy who's like, have you tried to find a job like in the last?
You know, I'm not saying that's some idealized state, right?
Of like welfare isn't happening in England like seamlessly and frictionously.
That's right.
Certainly.
But there is a sense that he's not going to go hungry.
Like he'll somehow go on with his life.
kind of like be an indie musician and live with a lot of roommates, but it's not going to be a
life and death situation, right? Whereas I think you're completely right. And materialists, there is a
much harsher kind of starkly black or white life and death thing going on. And I think it also
has to do with masculinity. You know, surprise, how could it not? But in materialists, you have
these two very different visions of masculinity that are both in crisis.
You have the Pedro Pascal character who, yes, looks like a very traditional husband material kind of guy.
He has all the money.
He's suave.
He buys the right flowers for the date.
He goes to the right restaurant.
He is a provider figure.
And then you have the polar opposite.
This kind of I can't even provide for myself.
I don't, you know, I broke my shoelace three days ago and I've had to walk around with a rubber band, you know.
Kind of, kind of vibe.
Kind of vibe.
Kind of vibe.
From this other guy who feels himself to being crisis over his masculinity for obvious reasons he can't provide.
But it comes out, and here is a little bit of a spoiler, it comes out that Pedro Piscale has, his character has, and here we almost laugh together, physical insecurities.
Okay.
He's had physical insecurities about his own marketability, his own ability to attract.
So on the one hand, like, I like that this movie is high.
highlighting that fact of reality for men, you know, the fact that the culture is talking about this a little more.
And then in too much, you have a character who basically is analogous to John. He's an Indian musician.
And the masculinity there comes through in this kind of softer caring way, I think. The fact that he is equipped to care for, Jess, to make her tea, to listen to her, to kind of have this gentle touch.
I think that's presented as this winning version of contemporary masculinity.
It's opposed to Jess's ex-boyfriend who feels frustrated and takes out his thwarted ambition on his girlfriend by denigrating her and bringing her down.
So I think that both of these projects are basically trying to speak to the fact that everyone's ideals are in question.
No one kind of knows, and like to add to this, we're sitting around her talking as if it's, you know, as if we're,
ourselves cave people about like men and women in heterosexual relationships.
Like, okay, there are many alternatives to these things now.
It's an of course, but it's also, I think, like, you know, what you see and what's fun and too much is you see that, like, all of her coworkers are living these very different lives.
Like, divorced or wanting to try being a lesbian or whatever it is, like wanting to kind of flirt with all of the possibilities that are open in 2025 as opposed to, like, going down the standard wrong com road.
Yeah. Well, you say masculinity, it's so true, one of the refrains of materialists is this idea of the quote-unquote high-value man, tall, rich, whatever. And that is a refrain that is taken directly from, at least in my experience, the manosphere.
Yeah.
One of the refrains of this space, the men's rights activism space, is 80% of women want 10% of men. This idea of a kind of scarcity that nobody wants, and this is, you know,
goes to the point that you made about Dakota Johnson's wide chasm of choices. Nobody wants the 80K
man who kind of gets by and rents an apartment and no, no, no, you have to be this Superman
who can provide and perhaps let you not work. All of a sudden, these ideas of the love
match of two equals, even the two-income household, nobody in a 90s rom-com is like, therefore
leaving their job because they got married. That's not the, at least,
the ethos. We're together. I'm the publisher. I'm a journalist. We do this together.
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. And now we both look at each other's work over our shoulder and be like,
oh, good job at work, honey. All of a sudden there's this idea that like the love match is not only a haven
from the outside world, but it seems that like patriarchal heterosexual heterosexual sexuality is, as it is in our
culture, reasserting itself. Yeah, this actually makes me feel very hopeful about the rom-com.
because it does mean that the rom-com has a kind of like a political radicalness to it.
Simply by positing, you know, in that intermediate space that I keep being drawn to
that's between the fairy tale and the utter Hobbesian, you know, life is nasty, brutal and shortishness of it all.
Between the looks maxing and the, you know, oh, I just, you know, you took off your glasses and a beautiful flower was beneath the ogre.
Yes.
Like, you know, that in the space of reality where love and attraction and soul spark happen for all different kinds of reason that are both material and totally non-material.
But, like, that's the place to explore, that that's interesting.
And I do think you're seeing two heterosexual women trying to make a case against that culture that you're talking about, Vincent, that kind of, like, you know, the Manosphere culture of where everything is about a number.
and there is this idea that everyone's in competition with one another,
and yeah, that it's just about resource hoarding.
But we're all trying to figure out what we want from other people,
and that is kind of what the rom-com is about.
So it's rich ground.
Come back to it, filmmakers.
I'm David Remnick. Thanks for joining us this week.
See you next time.
