Barbour has been on a string of great collaborations for some time now. The 132-year old brand has been handing the design keys over to others to keep it fresh in the consciousness. Some of its most consistent collaborators have been Brendon Babenzien's brands. The designer has done a handful with his own label, Noah, and he's regularly worked with Barbour while at the helm of J.Crew's menswear. Since Babenzien left J.Crew last month, I imagine this will be one of the last big releases where you can see his handiwork: A new J.Crew-exclusive, navy-and-black Barbour barn jacket. And if I were a betting man, I'd tell you this is looking like a prime candidate for Spring 2026's best jacket. Buy now before everyone else is hip to it. — Luke Guillory, commerce editor |
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Two titans of menswear collaborate on an exclusive colorway. |
There's not much that hasn't been said about Brendon Babenzien's J.Crew tenure. It gave us a reinvigorated J.Crew. It gave us the catalog back. It gave the menswear world generative AI discourse. Now, as Babenzien leaves the brand to focus back on Noah, his own brand, it appears this is his parting gift to the world of J.Crew. The J.Crew Barbour barn jacket has been around for a minute, but the pair just released an exclusive to J.Crew color combination. The waxed cotton is navy, and the corduroy collar is black. It's a city-ready take on Barbour's country look. I am, admittedly, smitten. |
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I don't want to unnerve the good people of South Carolina, but your senior senator has gone so far round the bend that he's probably in Missouri by now. This weekend, Senator Lindsey Graham made the Gobshite Rounds on the teevee, and he sounded like the most bellicose legislator this side of the Klingon High Council. Graham was the subject of one of the first successful soul-ectomies performed by the current president way back in 2016, and he continues to be the index patient for the procedure. |
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If the cinematic landscape had been slowly shifting over the past couple decades, the activity was downright seismic this year. Paramount is on the cusp of swallowing Warner Bros., further consolidating power in an industry that's already an oligopoly. Meanwhile, the powers that be are giddy at how they can use AI to conjure fake actors and make real ones punch each other. And yet, there is plenty to celebrate. A bunch of great films and film achievements are up for awards, the 2026 slate is already off to a strong start, and over the course of the past year, some bold originals managed to turn back the clocks and be bona fide discourse-dominating, profit-making hits. We took a shot at summing up how they did it, interviewing difference makers both inside and at the periphery of the industry. First up, Sev Ohanian. Ohanian went to USC film school with Ryan Coogler and wound up being a producer on Coogler's debut, Fruitvale Station. He's also produced Searching (which he also cowrote), Judas and the Black Messiah, Creed III, and, this past year, Sinners. He talks about reading Coogler's script for the first time, what made the film a massive success, and why, to make a good movie, you need exactly three good scenes—and no bad ones. |
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 One of the best reasons to attend college is to have the space to remake yourself. The campus grounds are an open terrarium for growth and self-discovery. But you don't have to be an 18-year-old froshy to undergo meaningful metamorphosis. You could be 63-year-old Steve Carell, who is phenomenal as he's born anew in the new HBO comedy Rooster. What? You thought you'd seen it all from an Oscar-nominated A-lister? Rooster shows that even the tried-and-true can still surprise you. Premiering last night, Rooster is the new feel-good comfort comedy from Ted Lasso and Shrinking creator Bill Lawrence. Carell stars as Greg, a successful novelist who takes a job teaching at a Boston university to get closer to his daughter (Charly Clive), who is picking up the pieces of her life after her husband slept with a grad student. Unlike the suave James Bond–esque antihero of his pulpy page-turners, Greg bumbles through his new life while remaking the lives of his students along the way. If the premise inspires you to regurgitate lunch, trust me when I say Rooster is a damn miracle. It walks in step with other Bill Lawrence shows: cozy sitcoms where snappy writing and quirky, flawed characters with hearts of gold are all on the honor roll. These elements made Ted Lasso special in 2020 and funneled audiences to Shrinking after Ted Lasso grew saccharine and, let's admit, dumb. Inevitably, Rooster often comes off like Lawrence et al. revisiting the same well and dipping their buckets a little deeper this time. Whatever advantages Rooster has is owed to its cast, Charly Clive and Lauren Tsai (both revelations) among them. But Carell is unusually good, even by his own standards. He's standing confidently in his silver-fox era, his age lending him wisdom as an artist. His timing is sharper than an expensive pen, his knack for buoying his younger scene partners an underrated superpower. For once, that unmistakable voice of his, oscillating between nasal nebbish and deep-thinking paternal figure, actually makes sense for an instructor who—and I'm sorry about this—is learning alongside his students. Credit is owed to Lawrence too, who seems to know post-Lasso that just putting a Good Guy™ in a minefield environment like the modern liberal-arts college isn't enough for a worthwhile TV show. These men need to have genuine flaws to feel human. The man who breathed life into Michael Scott was certainly up to the task. It was just over two decades ago when the world got properly acquainted with Steve Carell. In 2005, both The 40-Year Old Virgin hit theaters and The Office premiered on network TV (and later iTunes, a pivotal moment in modern media distribution). On TV, Carell was the dopey middle manager who comically overestimated his abilities. In the first few seasons of The Office, Michael embodied the mediocrity of leadership. He failed upward, and his good intentions backfired. ("Scott's Tots" is, deservingly, a classic episode.) His mall-outlet suits and hair slicked with Dep reeked of loserdom. The culture was fresh from Gen X media like Falling Down, Fight Club, Office Space, and The Matrix, which all championed individuality over the imprisonment of cubicles and neckties. Michael Scott was Gen X's reheated leftovers served to millennials, so it's unsurprising that the wide space once afforded to episodic television naively evolved him into a misunderstood hero and not permanently the tool of unseen capitalist overlords. After 2005, you could not escape the man on all those 40-Year Old Virgin posters if you tried. (Sure, he was also the weirdo in Anchorman, but it's hard to be thought of as a true star behind serial-killer glasses.) His humble start as a correspondent on The Daily Show has given way to garden-variety A-list fame: more hit comedies, acclaimed indies, cartoon franchises, even an Oscar nom. But I don't blame you if his presence in a thing doesn't inspire thrills. In weepy awards bait or whatever Adam McKay has cooked up, you expect Carell to work within his wavelength. He can be a loving dad or a sociopath with inordinate power or something in between. You can't hate on Carell for exploring his range, but you'd be forgiven for being bored by it all. Which is why I'm speechless that I was never bored by Rooster. What should have been a losing combination of pieces has amounted to a greater whole than I anticipated. It's a throwback to Ted Lasso in its prime, when its hunky-dory atmosphere and deep sincerity felt inviting, before it got off-putting. Mostly I'm suddenly endeared to Carell, whose work I haven't loved since The Big Short. While I keep a soft spot for his DVD indies and studio rom-coms—Crazy, Stupid, Love is a crazy, smart movie—I've never found his prestige efforts interesting in the slightest (I still question if he even deserved his nomination for Foxcatcher), to say nothing of the embarrassment of working with Woody Allen in the 2010s or the wretched Space Force. Rooster single-handedly turned me around, even if I'll still never watch a Despicable Me sequel of my own accord. In an episode halfway through Rooster's first season, a student tells Greg that college is the place to reinvent oneself and that it isn't exclusive to the students. It's clear that Carell, learned as he already is, has done his homework. By Eric Francisco |
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Nearly 15 years after he left The Office, it's great to see Carell back in goofball mode. / photo by: Katrina Marcinowski/HBO |
The hottest topic among Esquire readers last week was Marshals, the first Yellowstone sequel spinoff that threw Kayce Dutton (Luke Grimes) into a typical CBS crime procedural. Longtime Yellowstone fans were very disappointed, commenting that the first episode was "probably the worst show" ever to release under the purview of Yellowstone creator Taylor Sheridan and "kind of flat" overall. What do you think? Did Marshals flop? Or does the new Sheridan series just need a little more time to breathe?
Let me know by writing to me at josh.rosenberg@hearst.com.
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The Continuing Adventures of the Esquire Entertainment Desk |
Ludwig Göransson could win another Oscar this weekend for the bluesy film score he wrote for Ryan Coogler's Sinners. The Swedish composer told me all about how the genre actually played a part in his upbringing, and why his jaw dropped when Coogler sent him the scripts for his music-infused vampire thriller. "I've had moments onstage where I get in a trance, but I've never seen it written down," Göransson said. "I thought, How the hell are we going to do this?" Read the interview here.
Jon Hamm's Apple TV drama Your Friends & Neighbors returns for season 2 next month. The most exciting new addition is James Marsden, who joins the cast as someone who sees Hamm's character for who he really is. "It's like Coop getting a best friend and a frenemy and a boyfriend and all of these things at once," Hamm tells Esquire. Read the full season 2 first-look here.
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Jamie Lee Curtis in The Bear / photo by: FX on Hulu | |
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The Cliff-Hanger's Winners and Losers of the Week |
Winner: Jamie Lee Curtis The Bear guest star accidentally—and hilariously—revealed during a red carpet interview this week that The Bear season 5 is the last season of the hit kitchen drama. "Unless I'm gonna get a call from all the people saying, 'You just told [everyone],' I think everybody understood that it was the last season of the show," she said. "If it isn't, then I've completely blown it." Honestly, I appreciate the transparency! Loser: Franken-stans Maggie Gyllenhaal's The Bride! premiered to polarizing reviews. The wild and obscene tale of Frankenstein's monster and his bride rampaging around 1930's Chicago like Bonnie and Clyde didn't go over too well with audiences who wanted something less auteur-like and more fun. Winner: Documentary Comedies André Is an Idiot is this year's funniest documentary—a description you don't usually see attached to the retrospective and somber genre as of late. But the film follows ad man André Ricciardi, who takes a rather eccentric look at his life after he's diagnosed with terminal cancer. "Believe it or not, this movie made me laugh more than any film in recent memory," Breznican wrote in his review. Loser: Kiss All the Time, Disco, Occasionally A terrible album title from Harry Styles produced a similarly disappointing record, according to writer Rich Juzwiak, who wrote that the former One Direction musician released a set of typical pop songs that aim to "show us how he's grown since turning thirty—but he can't quite muster the evidence." Winner: Texas Sorry, New Orleans. The Samuel L. Jackson-led Tulsa King spinoff is no longer titled NOLA King. According to The Hollywood Reporter, Sheridan is sending Jackson's character to Frisco, Texas instead to become the Frisco King. You know who else lives in Texas? The prolific TV writer's never done a crossover event like this before, but I'd love to see Jackson sling curses back and forth with Billy Bob. |
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