*BPN23 The Banshees of Inisherin

At first viewing, The Banshees of Inisherin seems like a simple concept; on an island off the coast of Ireland, a spat develops between life-long pals when one man announces he doesn’t care to be friends with the other anymore. When the question, “Will you be coming to the pub?” is met with silence, an uneasy Pádraic (Colin Farrell) tries to figure out what he has done to offend his best friend Colm (Brendan Gleeson). The dialogue starts to resemble a Beckett play as the question is asked,

“Have you been rowing? Maybe he doesn’t like you anymore.”
“I don’t think we’ve been rowing.”
“It does sound like you’ve been rowing.”

As the very confused Pádraic tries to figure out what he has done to cause this schism, his ex-friend Colm gets more distraught every day and starts to threaten that he will cut off his own finger if Pádraic doesn’t stop talking to him. The film is filled with wonderful characters who each have an opinion about who is to blame for this friendship gone astray. 

But as this dark comedy progresses, it becomes more complex as the Irish Civil war rages across the water and the reasons for the war and what the two sides are fighting about becomes murky. Colm becomes more unhinged and actually starts mutilating his own hand; eventually his bizarre amputations lead to another tragedy that is unbearable for Pádraic, and the battle between the two of them drags on, as does the war across the water.

It doesn’t exactly sound like a comedy, but the movie is very funny (right up until ANOTHER untimely donkey demise—really, what is going on with Hollywood and these poor asses?) The performances are all terrific, and the Irish accents make every line entertaining. My favorite of the movie is, “Daddy will kill us if we wake him after he’s been wanking.” Fecking awesome.

The Popcorn Kernels of Truth give this film Three and Half Kernels; the half off is because of the donkey.

Categories: FlicksThatYouShouldPick, FlicksThatHaveADick (see above quote)

*BPN23 Triangle of Sadness

The most important thing I learned from this movie is that the Triangle of Sadness is a real thing. It is the area between your eyebrows and the top of the nose bridge, where all your stress and worry show up as deep wrinkles and emphasize negative facial expressions. During this film, my triangle developed dislike grooves within hate indentations and my negative facial expression turned into one that was infuriated and pissed off. I’m going to need Botox after watching this movie.

The film has been described as “a satirical black comedy”; I would say it’s a combination rip off of Below Deck meets Bridesmaids meets Castaway, with a touch of The White Lotus sprinkled over everything and a garnish of Parasite. I suggest you see all those other shows/films instead of watching this.

I’m not going to waste time going into any more detail, because there are nine other nominees that are a far better choice to watch than this film. I will let you know there is an extended vomit sequence in the middle of the film that starts to resemble the Mr. Creosote puke scene in Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life. That one was disgusting but funny; the one in Triangle of Sadness is just gross and goes on waaaaay too long. flicksthatmakemesick is not amused.

I cannot believe that Ruben Ostend got the fifth Best Director nomination—it should have gone to Sarah Polley for Women Talking.

The Popcorn Kernels of Truth give this film Zero Kernels. The last time I hated a movie this much was another Best Picture nominee from 2022—Don’t Look Up. I will repeat what I said then: not only does this film not get a single, unpopped piece of corn, but the original  popcorn bucket is still upside down on the sticky floor of a theater with a greasy coating of fake butter topping, where rats will find it and lick up the yellow, viscous goo and it will get stuck to the roof of their mouths and they will never get rid of the taste. 

Also: I cannot believe there are TWO Best Picture nominees that have donkeys meeting untimely deaths. SMH.

Categories: FlicksThatYouShouldSkip, FlicksThatHaveADick (the director)

*BPN23 Elvis

It’s hard to imagine a more perfect combination than Baz Luhrmann, Las Vegas, drugs, a rampant gyrating pelvis and Elvis. All the elements for the typical flashy excess of the director’s films are in place, and for much of the film, Elvis’s dizzy ascent from simple country boy to the King of Rock’n’Roll is punctuated by swirling camera work, eye-popping candy colors and a heady mix of blues, gospel and country music that shows all the different influences on the singer. Every part of his life is presented at a breakneck pace, and Austin Butler shines as Elvis Presley, exuding a smoldering sexuality that seems confounding to him before he realizes how to use it.

It must have seemed like a good idea to have the film narrated by Colonel Tom Parker, Presley’s manager for his entire career. The Colonel started out in carnivals and his showy style as a huckster influenced Elvis’s career trajectory; Parker’s gambling addiction also kept the singer constantly working to the point of exhaustion. But the idea of having an unrecognizable Tom Hanks play Tom Parker in a fat suit with a bizarre accent was a distraction that I could not overlook. In profile, he looked a lot like The Penguin; all he needed was a monocle and a cigarette holder and he could have taken over for Burgess Meredith in the original Batman series. The accent was supposed to be Dutch, but every once in a while, Woody the Cowboy would come through and it took me out of the picture completely.

Austin Butler is nominated for Best Actor and has won the Golden Globe and a number of these awards in the past few weeks. I thought he was terrific in the first half of the film, but had trouble pulling off the aging, heavier singer in decline. I’m also not certain if this is a performance as much as an excellent impression. I think the Academy should come up with a new category where people are nominated separately for Best Performance of an Actual Person. Rami Malek as Freddie Mercury, Renee Zellweger as Judy Garland, Cate Blanchett as Katherine Hepburn . . . there are quite a few winners who were able to capture the essence of someone very well known. But should this count against someone who is creating a character from scratch? Someone get Hollywood on the phone! I know they will want to hear from me!

The Popcorn Kernels of Truth gives this film Three Kernels. The dueling fat suits of Tom Hanks and Austin Butler in the last third of the extremely long film were a disappointment to me.


Most of my classical music education comes from Bugs Bunny cartoons, so I was a bit apprehensive about Tár. Would my lack of knowledge about orchestras and musical prodigies mar my enjoyment of this film about the brilliant conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic who was accused of sexual harassment and eventually cancelled by the culture where she was worshiped and adored? Should I do my research and try to find out about the career of this insanely talented woman who was so admired by her musical colleagues but was cast out when she abused her power? Should I google Lydia Tár to see if she looked like Cate Blanchett?

The answer to these questions are: No, No and You Are a Dummy.

Having little to no education about the world of classical music did not affect my enjoyment of the film at all. It probably enhanced it, because I had no reason to doubt whether any of the facts about the genius of Tár were true. On the other hand, I watched the movie with a friend who is very knowledgeable about the subject, and she had a far more difficult time suspending her belief about some of the people mentioned and facts presented as real.

The concept of separating the behavior of the artist from the art itself is a question that has been debated more and more often as various icons of film and theater are routinely exposed for sexual misconduct that was ignored in the past because they were so famous. Most of these formerly admired artists have been men, so it was very interesting to see the reversal as Lydia Tár proved that power can corrupt regardless of gender.

As for the final question, Lydia Tár does not look like Cate Blanchett because she does not exist (clarification: Cate Blanchett is real. Lydia Tár is not). I think I can be excused for having a moment where I thought she was actually alive because there is a whole Twitter persona built around a fake Lydia Tár who has been actively tweeting. Even Leonard Bernstein’s estate got in on the joke (in the film, he was supposed to have been her mentor); the family confirmed that Lydia had been a teenage prodigy when she studied with Lenny.

How can you believe anything when Leonard Bernstein’s children lie to you?!

On February 28, the fake @LydiaTarReal urged Chicagoans to vote in the mayoral election. We have entered the multiverse again, and it is whack, although the music is very beautiful.

The Popcorn Kernels of Truth give this film Three and a Half Kernels. Ridiculous online hijinks aside, I loved this movie. Cate Blanchett was marvelous and the ending was so bizarre that it almost fits into the whole weird fake Lydia thing that developed on Twitter.

Category: FlicksThatYouShouldPick

P.S. As a graphic designer, I would like to compliment the designer who made this poster. It is absolutely gorgeous and communicates everything you need to know about the movie. This Lydia Tár is REAL.

*BPN23 The Fablemans

I knew enough not to expect aliens or dinosaurs from Stephen Spielberg’s biopic, but I was hoping there might be at least a shark or a Devil’s Tower made of mashed potatoes. The Fablemans takes the director’s own life story and makes it his most personal film yet, although his earlier works such as E.T. and Close Encounters of the Third Kind have always drawn on elements of his background for plot points. Spielberg had this to say about the movie he was writing and directing:

“I started seriously thinking, if I had to make one movie I haven’t made yet, something that I really want to do on a very personally atomic level, what would that be? And there was only one story I really wanted to tell . . . which is, when does a young person in a family start to see his parents as human beings?”

He had a lot of interesting background material, from his obsession with filming train crashes and trying to create feature length films with a Super8 camera in order to win a Boy Scout badge. His mother (Michele Williams) is quirky and dramatic and supports his love of filmmaking—she urges him to pursue his passion; while his father (Paul Dano) is the complete opposite and feels his son’s hobby need to be left behind so that he can focus on school and the future. His father works on the first computers being developed by IBM, and the family home it littered with broken television sets that he plans on repairing. It’s a nice touch, and apparently the production design was meticulously researched so that the family home and all the props and details were exact replicas of where the actual Spielbergs lived.

I’m a huge fan of Spielberg’s movies and was greatly anticipating this one, yet this depiction of his childhood and broken family was a big letdown for me. It seemed almost too ordinary, with the complicated, artistic mother and the silent dad who stands by the wayside and watches her have an affair with his best friend. The movie felt like it was two separate films; the first half with young Sammy as the family moved around and he explored his love of film was engaging and had some fine moments. But once Sammy has moved to California and become a teenager, it felt like it suddenly it turned into American Graffiti with cliché moments of school bullies and first love. There is one scene where Judd Hirsch as his Great Uncle Boris comes for a funeral and berates the young man about what you must sacrifice for art even though it may not be what his family wants. Hirsch chews up the scenery and expounds on his theories, but the scene feels over the top in comparison to the rest of the movie. 

I didn’t feel any of the glow I usually get from one of Spielberg’s movies until the very last scene; Sammy is allowed to meet director John Ford in his office (a quick, wonderful performance by David Lynch), and Ford lectures him on why the horizon location can make or break a film. It’s only when the line is at the bottom of the shot that it gets interesting. As Sammy walks away from the meeting, the final medium shot of the film has a nifty camera adjustment where it breaks the fourth wall and moves the horizon line down. That final moment made the film for me—I wish the rest of the movie had made the same adjustment.

The Popcorn Kernels of Truth give this film Two Kernels. Maybe wait until June when the next Indiana Jones film comes out.

Category: FlicksThatDidn’tClick

*BPN23 Women Talking

When the lights came up in the theater where I had just seen Women Talking, I turned to my friends and said, “Just give them all the fucking awards right now.” The three of us sat there stunned by the story that had just unfolded in front of us, blown away by the simplicity of a film that dares to put eight women in a hayloft and just let them talk to each other.

Sadly, the Academy did not seem to be of the same mindset as I was, nominating Women Talking for only two awards. Fortunately, one of those was for Best Picture, but how Sarah Polley did not get nominated for Best Director for this remarkable film is certainly reinforced by the title of one of the nominated animated shorts: My Year of Dicks. All the Best Director nominees this year are male.

The film is based on a true story of a Mennonite colony where many of the women would awake from a night of uneasy dreams to find themselves bruised and bloody and somehow diseased or pregnant. The cult leaders blamed the women, saying it was their “female imaginations” or worse, that they had somehow seduced the devil to abuse them. The truth is finally revealed when one young girl is able to stay awake long enough to reveal that it was the men in the clan who were dosing the women with cow tranquilizer and then repeatedly raping them; they were attacking their own sisters and wives. The men are arrested and jailed.

As the elders go to town to bail out the rapists, the women gather to discuss their options. They decide they have three choices: 1) They can stay, forgive the rapists and do nothing else; 2) They can stay and fight; 3) They can leave. Leaving is complicated by the fact that the women in the community have never been educated. None of them can read and they have no actual idea of where they are; none of them has ever seen a map. There is one male in the film, a former clan member who was excommunicated years ago but has returned to teach the boys how to read. He is in love with one of the women and takes the minutes of the meetings so there will be a record of their story.

The movie is exactly what its title states—women talking; about injustice, about faith; about revenge. A list of Pros and Cons is drawn up as they debate which option to choose, and whether boys of thirteen and fourteen have already been indoctrinated into the clan male way of behaving. The conversation is spirited and intense; these women may not have been taught to read, but they still know how to think. There are some lighter moments involving a couple of horses called Ruth and Cheryl who provide some much-needed comedy relief from the tension.

There were a lot of jokes going around on Twitter when Women Talking came out; that the makers could not have picked a worse title if they wanted men to actually see this movie. It’s an easy take; I wouldn’t be surprised if it shows up in the Jimmy Kimmel monologue on Oscar night. But it’s a shame that a movie this good —this smart—probably won’t be seen by half the population. 

The Popcorn Kernels of Truth give this film Three and one half Kernels. It is powerful and moving and infuriating; it only lost the half kernel because it is very dark—not in content, but in lighting. I sometimes found it hard to figure out which woman was talking (although it’s pretty dark in content, too!)

Categories: FlicksThatYouShouldPick, FlicksThatHaveADick (all the unseen men fit in this category)

Thor: Love and Thunder

Marvel has apparently stopped reading the Thor scripts before handing them over to Taika Waititi to direct; producer Kevin Feige must just chuckle and greenlight the project before going off to Maui, confident that there will be a whole new pile of money waiting for him on his desk when he gets back from vacation.

The Thor movies have always been a bit looser than some of the other Marvel films. This one goes even sillier and takes the legend of the mighty God Thor and surrounds him with ridiculous characters, screaming goats, and Matt Damon in a chin length bob that makes him look like Severus Snape. I am 100% on board with this approach.

The last Marvel movie I saw was Dr. Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, and it felt like the studio had cranked it out because someone looked at the calendar and realized it was almost Memorial Day and they needed a movie in the theaters, stat. It was a lot of jumping into different time lines and frantic battle scenes that had little humanity and even less humor. I like my superheroes to take themselves a little less seriously.

Which brings us back to Thor: Love and Thunder. The movie starts out on an endlessly bleak landscape as we get the grim backstory of how Christian Bale becomes the villain known as the God Butcher, setting off his search to take out the Gods who allowed his daughter to starve to death. Back on earth, Thor’s old flame Dr. Jane Foster is on her own quest to find a cure for the cancer that is killing her. Both these stories are a bit depressing, but set up genuine reasons for the way the characters behave.

Things lighten up a bit as the narration continues by Krog, the giant rock creature who befriended the Asgardian God in Thor: Ragnarok. Krog has a very chill approach to storytelling, and his accent makes every syllable an adventure. (Originally I thought Krog was voiced by one of the guys from Flight of the Conchords, but it is director Taika Waititi. I love a New Zealand accent!) The Legend of Thor is acted out by a troupe of thespians, each one chewing the scenery as if they hadn’t eaten in days. The film is full of surprise cameos, such as the aforementioned Matt Damon as Loki, who owes Tom Hiddleston an apology. I won’t spoil the others in the play, but the guy playing Thor has a certain family resemblance.

Characters from other Marvel films keep showing up; there is a whole sequence involving The Guardians of the Gallery and various characters from previous Thor films. Valkyrie is still King of Asgard and is wearing a Phantom of the Opera t-shirt, which I guess means that in addition to becoming a theme park, the town now has Broadway shows? In what seems like a complete non-sequitur, someone gives Thor a pair of Giant Screaming Goats, who are then put to work pulling a Viking ship that used to be a ride in New Asgard. There is absolutely no reason for these goats to be in this movie; yet I found myself hysterical every time they bleated an anguished scream.

With the help of Thor’s Hammer, Jane has developed superpowers; and has also inexplicably turned blonde (Don’t call her Lady Thor!) Thor, Korg, Jane and Valkyrie eventually find their way to Mt. Olympus to warn the other Deities about the God Butcher, and an almost unrecognizable Russell Crowe shows up as Zeus, his toga quite a bit snugger than it was in Gladiator. His accent seems to have been lifted from the dad in My Big Fat Greek Wedding; I kept expecting him to pull out a bottle of Windex and spray it on someone’s zit. A huge fight breaks out as the adventurers try to steal Zeus’s Lightning Bolt, and the ensuing battle is very glittery as it turns out that all the Gods bleed gold. I would like to commend the person who decided that Thor should be naked and covered in golden gore in this scene.

The movie deals with some fairly heavy subjects that are not usually addressed in Marvel films; fear of death and what awaits in the Afterlife, kidnapped children, Thor’s inability to move on from a past relationship. I found it refreshing to have the conflicts be a bit more human-scaled, as opposed to more giant alien monsters attacking from outer space. As goofy as a lot of the scenes were, at least the characters were fighting for something that was relatable.

I laughed more during this film than I have in a long time, and it was the perfect two-hour retreat from reality that I was craving. And even though I had just sat through 35 minutes of previews and two hours of the film while drinking a giant Diet Coke, I knew enough not to rush out of the theater before the final credit scenes. The first one came almost immediately and involved a conversation between Zeus and his son. It happened so fast that I’m not even sure if I would have recognized who was playing Hercules unless I had been spoiled. Stop reading right now if you don’t want this little hint:.

 “He’s here! He’s there! He’s every-fucking-where! Her-cules!”

The Popcorn Kernels of Truth give this film Three Kernels. The delightful addition of Guns N’ Roses on the soundtrack (and a character who changes his name to Axl) create a tempo that hits hard and fast and drives the film.

New Category: FlicksYouShouldPick, FlicksIWantToLick

*BPN23 Top Gun: Maverick

I once worked in a small department of six people that was isolated from the rest of a large corporation; because no one could hear us (or find us, for that matter), we played records all day long on an old phonograph with a tinny speaker. Our music selections came from a few boxes of vinyl left over from the 80s that had been donated from someone’s basement. 

We had several favorites—Flashdance, Saturday Night Fever, Oklahoma!—but the one that got played almost every day was the soundtrack from Top Gun. For reasons I can no longer remember, we all took nicknames from the film. I am proud to say that I was Maverick; although I bear absolutely no resemblance to Tom Cruise, I liked to think that I could fly an airplane upside down if I absolutely had to. Also, last person to pick ended up as Goose.

Sitting in the audience for Top Gun: Maverick and hearing those first twangy eight notes of the Top Gun Anthem, I was immediately transported back to a time when toxic masculinity was fun and a skintight white t-shirt was all you needed to make a girl swoon. The original movie wasn’t really that good, but oh, that shirtless volleyball game.

I’ve read a few reviews that have mentioned you don’t need to have seen the original 1986 Top Gun to be able to appreciate the new one, but I disagree. If you’re there for the airplane fight sequences, you’ll enjoy it because they are spectacular; however, how can you understand the complicated relationship between Maverick and Rooster without knowing how Goose died? Or get a lump in your throat when Iceman finally shows up, remembering how cocky he always was?; or recognize the parallels between the sunset football game and the shirtless volleyball on the beach? Or understand that of course Tom Cruise doesn’t wear a helmet when he rides his motorcycle because he wouldn’t be Tom Cruise if he had helmet hair.

This is about as nostalgic a summer movie as there is; completely escapist and fun, filled with beloved characters who have aged far better (or have better plastic surgeons) than we have. Flight sequences are thrilling and inexplicably did not make me nauseous, even though there was a lot of swooping in loops and g-forces contorting faces. 

I should probably note that the Hollywood patriarchy is in full macho mode here, erasing the Kelly Willis and Meg Ryan roles from the original and giving Maverick a new girlfriend and an ethnically ambiguous female pilot; this film would definitely NOT pass the Bechdel test. Also interesting that they never name what country is supposed to be the villain here. It is much more convenient for global film distribution if you’re not offending China or Russia or whoever might have a hidden stash of nuclear weapons. 

But somedays I’m too tired to protest and just want to give in to airplanes and cute boys and popcorn and forgetting that the world is blowing up around us. I know, I know—I’m a bad feminist and Tom Cruise is a Scientologist and I’m a terrible pacifist for supporting this love letter to the military complex. Just give me this two hours and eleven minutes of the skintight white T-shirts and I swear I will do better next time.

The Popcorn Kernels of Truth give this film Three Kernels. I may need to create a new category called GuiltyPleasures.

Categories: FlicksThatYouShouldPick, FlicksIWantToLick

Dr. Strange in the Multiverse of Madness

Alert the media and empty out the vomitorium, because this review marks the return of the OG flicksthatmakemesick

A long time ago far, far away, this website was created to help those who got nauseated at films that used the hand held shaky cam and other quick cutting techniques. Directors finally calmed down a few years ago, so flicks abandoned its unique premise for the more standard movie review site. Those of us who are afflicted with motion sickness gratefully put down our Barf Bags and headed back to theaters, more worried about the symptoms that might come from the guy coughing behind you than what the film would do to your stomach.

This website is thrilled to be able to honor its origins by telling you that one of the parallel universes in Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness is the one where movies regularly made you sick! As Stephen Strange and his new partner jump through millions of different times and places, their journey flashes by so quickly that your stomach ends up in the row in front of you. I had eaten some greasy, buttered popcorn, which is a lethal snack when a film goes into edited frenzy. I closed my eyes as quickly as I could, but not before the theater had started to spin and my mouth filled with saliva, which is never a good thing. But my eyes flew open at the dialog when the young woman in the film said “I’m surprised you didn’t puke. Most people do.” And then Benedict Cumberbatch proceeded to barf his guts out on a rooftop somewhere in another version of New York.

I was so stunned by art imitating life that I didn’t pay much attention to the reason they were in the multiverse, because 1) it doesn’t exist and 2) I am sick of it. This is the third movie I have seen in the last three months that ended up jumping around like frogs on acid. I realize there are not a lot of original ideas in Hollywood, but this is starting to feel like the mid 80s when studios spewed out about a dozen or more body switching movies that had all the same plot (starting with the original Freaky Friday in 1976).

I felt this was one of the weaker Dr. Strange films, missing a lot of the humor and angst from the original one and its various sequels. The action sequences went on forever and seemed repetitive. Director Sam Raimi’s influence is evident from an unusual amount of gory, horror-filled moments; my take on this is if you have an actor with cut glass cheekbones like Benedict Cumberbatch, why have him spend half the film as a zombie missing part of his face? And as much as I was a fan of WandaVision, I’m not sure if the Scarlet Witch missing her two fake children was enough of a reason to go psycho on the entire world. 

Marvel keeps churning out these films and I suppose I will keep buying the tickets; but somewhere in a different part of the multiverse, there is version of me who is getting really tired of the same old schtick.

The Popcorn Kernels of Truth give this film Two Kernels. In the ranking of all thirty-four Marvel movies, I would score it above Eternals and Ironman 2, but below AntMan.

New Category: FlicksYouShouldPickOnlyifYouAreaDieHardMarvel Junkie

Oscar Recap (as if anyone cares who won at this point)

Well, that was exciting, wasn’t it? I’m sure no one watching the Oscars was thinking about their Academy Award ballots after Will Smith smacked Chris Rock in the face and then won the Best Actor trophy a half hour later. This event will certainly eclipse the whole La La Land/Moonlight mix-up that happened a few years ago as the most shocking thing that has ever occurred at the ceremony; at least until the next thing happens.

There are plenty of hot takes you can get about this incident from every single person on the internet, so let’s proceed with the winners (more on my personal reaction further down). These awards were all over the place; Dune won the most with six, and they were all technical except for Best Score. (Question: How does a film that is mostly CGI generated win Best Cinematography?) The Power of the Dog (which had been nominated for twelve and was considered the frontrunner for Best Picture) won only one for Jane Campion for Best Director (back-to-back women directors for two years!). The poor showing for TPOTD busted a lot of brackets—people voted for Kentucky and then the Cinderella story called CODA swept in and took Best Supporting Actor, Adapted Screenplay and Best Picture. Lin Manuel Miranda did not get his EGOT when that upstart Billie Eilish took Best Original Song for No Time to Die, and poor West Side Story only got one for Best Supporting Actress (Arian DeBose—but her acceptance speech was great).

I am a bit annoyed that after all my hard work of watching every movie nominated, no one really cares about who won (I imagine the winners feel that way, too). Thousands of people managed to produce some top-notch films in the middle of a global pandemic, and the only thing anyone wants to talk about is The Slap (#Twitternamedtrend). 

I’m not going to take sides here, as I feel that both Chris Rock and Will Smith were in the wrong. This was a classic case of impulse control—I would guess that from Will’s perspective, it probably felt like it happened in slow motion. You can see him laugh at Chris Rock’s joke about Jada’s bald head and then catch site of his wife’s face and her reaction. Why storming up the runway and smacking the comedian was the only thing he could come up with, I don’t know; but there is some history of Chris Rock mocking Jada in the past. It’s also possible (probable?) that Rock did not know about Pinkett Smith’s medical condition that caused her hair loss. But why would he be making a joke about the wife of a nominee’s physical look in the first place? Talk about punching down.

And here is my personal take on the situation—and the fact that I am nervous about writing this gives you some insight about how Jada must have felt. I have dealt with alopecia since I was a teenager, and it is crushing to your self-esteem. My biggest fear has always been people mocking me for something I have no control over, and the idea of a comedian joking about her bald head in front of a global audience is the nightmare that anyone coping with this has probably had more than once. Will Smith hitting Chris Rock was the absolute worst way to deal with this; but he is probably hyper aware of how his wife feels about her hair loss and reacted without considering the consequences. 

And the consequences are huge. To then win the award for Best Actor and make an acceptance speech where you once again make a huge faux pas by saying “Love makes you do crazy things”—which is a classic statement made by abusers everywhere as they protest they only hit “out of love”—was quite possibly the worst thing he could have said. Everything about this situation was terrible and no one came out looking good, but I imagine that shiny gold statue that will be sitting on Will Smith’s mantel is going to be a tainted reminder of what should have been a triumphant night.

I told you all to vote for Andrew Garfield!