The Spice of Life

In movies and politics, run times are everything.

This CGI vagina is wild.

Happy Post State of the Union Day? By the time you are reading this, every pundit on television will have sweat through seven fine gauge Italian wool blazers, and earnestly discussed Joe Biden’s age and unpopularity in a way that, if directed at me, would instantly dry me up like one of those old apple dolls that used to pass as toys. 

Obviously, these wizened playthings are cursed.

In any case, the stress caused me to have a nightmare that a baby dachshund walked all over my dinner plate and tracked gravy all over the apartment. It was horrible and obviously, I woke up in a puddle of cold sweat. 

I think that when you are 54, your dreams become mostly process oriented? Less ‘pining for a sexy vampire to ravish you’, more ‘scrupulously cleaning up after a messy vampire with a pine scented stain remover’. Is it bad if cleaning corners meticulously and success with a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser now feels…erotic?

Folks, this is perimenopause, and we are at MAXIMUM EFFICIENCY. No time to waste.

Speaking of which, and I may have said this before, but I am not going to stop until we put an end to this abominable trend; we simply need to stop allowing male film directors (and yes, they are all male, sorry) to ROB us of our remaining hours on this Earth by making feature films that are longer than two hours. 

No one needs this. I am looking at you, DUNE 2 (run time 2:45) which I both liked, and wanted to shrink by precisely forty six minutes. 

No story needs this much padding. We understand that the characters long for one another, we understand that they have many thoughts in their beautiful skulls, yes. As they wistfully examine the landscape for the eleventieth time? Yes, yes, YES, we GET IT.

I am suggesting, and I don’t think this is asking too much, a kind of Logan’s Run for film directors? (Logan’s Run: a film exactly one minute under two hours. Well done.) Like, have at it for exactly 120 minutes and if you can’t fit it all into that time frame, YOUR FILM MELTS. 

IT SELF DESTRUCTS, OK? Your oeuvre is gone, it vanishes from our world, it’s over. No more parties, no more awards from all your friends, you have to get a job at The Gap now, because you need to spend some time remembering about customer service.

Oh no, the movie was 121 minutes long, oh well, he was warned.

And yes, I do recall that I was that mom who took my kids to Oppenheimer on opening weekend instead of Barbie, but that was a mistake and I am embarrassed.

Speaking of Barbenheimer, this Sunday is the Oscars. I'm excited about this for two very important reasons: 1) They are starting an hour earlier this year at 7pm/ET (early sleepers unite); and 2) Red, White and Blue is one of five nominees in the running for Best Live Action Short. EEK!! Not only does it have a PERFECT runtime of 23 mins, but it shows how powerful movies can be in the storytelling of complicated topics. I'm beyond proud to be an executive producer of this film and I can't wait to cheer on the team from my couch in my coziest slippers.

There are other pressing things occupying my brain right now too, so let’s dive in.

For one thing, I will be at SXSW this weekend, for a variety of reasons–but mainly because I am doing a LIVE RECORDING of Choice Words with three brilliant women: Pamela Adlon, Ilana Glazer, and Michelle Buteau. Oh boy oh boy oh boy I cannot WAIT. They are there to promote their new film, Babes, which Pamela directed, and winner winner, chicken dinner, I’m about to be the luckiest lady in all of Austin. 

Also I’ll personally be receiving an award at the Variety Power of Comedy event, and it shall be presented to me by…Brooke Shields. This is perhaps, the Upside Down world? For one thing, the words “Power” and “Comedy” so rarely belong together in a sentence, but LOL ok. And for another, no one at this event is going to disagree that I should be presenting *Brooke* with something, not the other way around.

Her limited series documentary Pretty Baby: Brooke Shields is SO GOOD. You can find it on Hulu, and I highly recommend that you do. I have met and/or worked with Brooke a bunch of times, and can say without reservation that she is a true delight to spend time with–and is such a low key, warm, normal human being, that it took that doc series to remind me that she is hugely famous, and has every right to be a MONSTER DIVA, but in fact is the polar opposite.

Brooke and I did this kids movie together, in which wily raccoons launched themselves into people’s crotches to protest an injustice. It traumatized my children.

On a more serious note, after the results of Super Tuesday and the preponderance of articles telling us that the country is bursting at the seams with voters who are DefCon One about the border, I’m reading this book and it is seriously illuminating. 

It feels like an important moment for self reflection on the migrant issue. What is America’s role in creating the conditions that would compel tens of thousands of people to attempt impassable sections of jungle to try for it at the border? This book attempts to answer that, and I think it is excellent.

And not for nothing, but HOW IN THE WORLD are we proposing to fix the border situation when we can’t even clean up this small sliver of a catastrophe we created? 

We separated over 5000 children from their families, and are unable to unite approximately two THOUSAND of them. Two. Thousand. Families. Please read to the end. It’s disgusting, and I frankly, feel hopeless.

It also took me back to the early days of Full Frontal, and the pressure to make a comedy show under the most grim conditions of a Trump presidency. I only think about this because the issue of Zero Tolerance and family separation was the backdrop for one memorable episode in which I called the president many names, but also called his daughter a name, for her own inaction, and, I felt, profound insensitivity in that moment. 

I guess the extra bad and not surprising news is that our government never bothered to keep comprehensive records of the families who were separated, and when I think about how all of this unfolded, my chest nearly caves in with grief. 

This is a heartbreaking example of all the ramifications - short term and long term (looking at you SCOTUS) - that we’re still unraveling and dealing with from Trump’s time in office. For the love of everything holy, do NOT give this man a sequel.

In an effort to limit my doom scrolling, here are some of my latest distractions:

• I bought this book, and can't wait to dig in.

• And I started watching The New Look on Apple tv and learned that Coco Chanel was a nazi collaborator? Cool, cool. Was not aware.

• And this. The most perfect palate cleanser of all, a Grandma Orca doing her business with a Great White Shark.  I’m not saying that I don’t feel for the shark in this situation, all I’m saying is that I understand this vibe.  

Xxoo

Sam