Any day Ray Romano does a talk show appearance with one (or in this case, both) of his cute twin sons is a great day in my book.
Miranda is perhaps the silliest and most delightful thing I’ve watched in recent years, and the cast’s in-character lockdown reunion on BBC’s charity special was just as charming. Its use of clips from the show made me laugh out loud, just as they did the first time. Maybe a quarantine rewatch is in store?
Speaking of rewatches, Zach Braff and Donald Faison’s Fake Doctors, Real Friends podcast is still delivering the laughs. It’s not quite a traditional recap show, but their natural comedic chemistry perfectly balances their heartfelt memories of filming Scrubs. I actually stopped watching Scrubs around Season 5, but I think its tone would be particularly comforting these days, so I might start it from the beginning soon.
Jennifer Ehle, who played Elizabeth in the 1995 Pride and Prejudice miniseries, reading each chapter of the book aloud in social media videos.
James Corden’s dad performing a makeshift concert for his neighbors, which made me cry.
Finishing an ARC of Maddie Dawson’s A Happy Catastrophe, sequel to the delightful Matchmaking for Beginners. This one was just as heartwarming, consisting of the same buttery and nourishing writing that I fell in love with. It hits shelves on May 26.
Getting approved for a NetGalley copy of The Heir Affair, one of my most anticipated reads of 2020.
Al Roker’s pure-hearted Instagram page, which is already a blessing during ordinary times, but nowadays, I adore his cooking videos and the behind-the-scenes looks at the kitchen table set-up where he broadcasts.
The TODAY Show anchors in general. I was raised as a staunch TODAY loyalist. My mother and I talk about anchors’ major life events as if they’re neighbors’ doings, I had a VHS tape of Katie Couric’s Sesame Street episode, and I spent weekdays off in high school watching Kathie Lee and Hoda. Seeing the current team talk via their Brady Bunch isolation boxes (and occasionally crack, just like we do at home) is bittersweet, but everyone’s dedication to their jobs and delivering both the news and joy is very comforting.
Several Lost alums making up for a certain co-star’s extremely selfish opinion. Daniel Dae Kim is forever as valiant and charming as Jin was. Maggie Grace is a steady voice of reason with just the right amount of bite. Harold Perrineau apparently helped Henry Ian Cusick’s son travel home safely. We have to go back…to leave Kate on the island.
Meg Cabot writing about the coronavirus outbreak from Princess Mia’s perspective.
The Broadway community fundraising, performing, and congregating via live-streamed shows. Seth Rudetsky’s “Stars in the House” series and Broadway.com’s “Live at Five: Home Edition” occur daily, and Rosie O’Donnell’s conversation with Matthew Broderick and Sarah Jessica Parker during her benefit show still delights me (they’re just at home watching Columbo and doing laundry!).
Podcasts are my go-to background noise when I have a low-stakes lineup of tasks at work, but given current situations, I suspect new episodes of my followed podcasts may be few and far between soon. I still have plenty of bookmarked episodes to catch up on, but listening to an author talk about her debut book or following a debate about Nancy Meyers’ greatest film feels a little weird when you’re in such an apocalyptic mood.
So, I figured that nothing is better medicine than singing along to or just playing an uplighting cast recording or movie soundtrack. Yes, I love Hamilton as much as the next gal, and I can practically quote Fiddler on the Roof verbatim, but let’s be real — a lot of those songs are pretty bleak and depressing. The albums below might have their share of slower, reflective songs, but as a whole, they tell stories of optimism and heart, and they have happy endings. The joy entangled in these lyrics and performances is contagious, and even just listening to some of my favorite songs below helped me feel a little lighter. I hope they help you feel the same!
1) Bright Star
Standouts: “If You Knew My Story,” “Whoa, Mama,” “Sun Is Gonna Shine”
This music by Steve Martin and Edie Brickell is inspired by their own bluegrass compositions, but what really makes Bright Star such a soothing listen for me is the voice of leading lady Carmen Cusack. Her performance here scored a Tony nomination during the Hamilton year, which is an accomplishment unto itself. Her delivery is so soulful, and particularly in her single version of “Sun Is Gonna Shine,” you start to believe that everything will be okay. It might be the only cast album I can play without getting bored because every song has a little something that you can appreciate, whether it be a gorgeous note or a moving lyric.
Welp, this is a weird situation, right? Given the current global climate, I hope everyone is safe and taking care of their mental and physical health right now. After a few anxiety-ridden days, I’m aiming to take a break from news coverage this weekend, sit in the yard and soak up some sun, and dedicate this extra time to TV I wouldn’t be watching otherwise.
Most of my TV consumption this week was dedicated to that hot mess of a Bachelor finale, and now fans don’t even have the guarantee of Clare Crawley’s Bachelorette season to anticipate. Obviously, I appreciate the caution that so many industries, including entertainment, are demonstrating in these circumstances, but the possible aftermath of all of these filming delays is definitely interesting. The month-long suspension of all Broadway shows also happened at the worst possible time for theater, as the majority of new, Tony-eligible productions traditionally open throughout March and April. Just thinking about those performers, crews, house staff, and anyone slated to make their Broadway debut soon is heartbreaking. It’s better to be safe than sorry, but the thought of the financial and logistical impacts on certain fields of the entertainment industry hurts my heart a little.
I’ve written before about Desert Island Discs, a BBC-produced podcast that interviews public figures about the eight songs they’d want access to if they were stuck on a desert island. In between explanations of each selected song, they discuss their upbringing, the growth of their careers, and what they anticipate in time to come. Its archive goes back to the 1940s, and while most new episodes feature figures only those in the UK would know, there are also plenty of appearances from American and global stars.
The reasoning behind guests’ song choices varies. Some may pick music that is significant to a certain time in their life or has always meant something to them. Others think more rationally, considering which records they wouldn’t tire of on a desert island. I tried my hand at this selection process with both angles in mind.
1) “Piano Man,” by Billy Joel
Now Paul is a real estate novelist / Who never had time for a wife / And he’s talkin’ with Davy, who’s still in the Navy / And probably will be for life
If you were born and raised on Long Island in the last 50 years, a love for Billy Joel and this particular song runs through your blood from the very second of your first breath. He’s our local bard, our very own William Shakespeare of music. This is the song that was there before my memories even formed — I don’t remember a time when I didn’t know it. Its lyrics ache with lost potential, pessimistic optimism, and the sad comfort of an often pathetic routine.
Beyond the Screenplay and IndieWire Filmmaker Toolkit, breaking down films from the perspectives of screenwriters, directors, and editors.
Mamas Talkin’ Loud, covering the lives of mothers working in theater and fueling inspiration for a budding writing project.
Any podcast interview with Greta Gerwig I can find, with favorites including her talks with Scriptnotes and Five Things with Lynn Hirschberg.
I’ve never really identified as a fan of reality TV. With the exception of the Bachelor franchise, I don’t watch what I think reality TV has become nowadays – irritable housewives’ Bravo shows, the ever-persistent singing competitions, and delectably sweet baking shows.
Instead, I associate more with the earlier concepts of the genre. Strangers thrown into a house together, competitors in a remote location proving survival of the fittest, and relatively unproduced docu-series. Starting from when I was nine years old and lasting throughout my teens, the age of reality TV’s rise and fall left a decent influence on my cultural identity. I hope you’re ready for a trip down memory lane, because I wanted to share thoughts about some of the reality TV seasons that most contributed to this shaping.
America’s Next Top Model, Cycle 6
The first eight cycles of America’s Next Top Model summarize exactly what was so great about reality TV in the early 2000s. Contestants still didn’t realize how production could portray them wrongly, social media fame didn’t quite exist yet, and personal fashion was simultaneously simple and horrendous. I also love Cycle 3 and its whackily entertaining cast, but I was first introduced to ANTM through an MTV weekend marathon of Cycle 6. Can you even call yourself an ANTM fan if you don’t live for Jade’s one-liners in this season? On top of that, the rest of the cast was also funny and complex, and Tyra Banks was at her peak of zaniness. I always resort to Cycles 3 and 6 when I need something brainless to play in the background as I do something else. After all, nothing truly beats a reality competition series with all of the old-school ANTM elements.
I wish for…
Taylor Swift to act in something not horrible.
A Bachelorette over the age of 25.
Amy Adams and Jessica Chastain to play sisters in a project.