I suppose that for most girls, breasts, brassieres, that entire thing, has more trauma, more to do with the coming of adolescence, with becoming a woman, than anything else. Certainly more than getting your period, although that, too, was traumatic, symbolic. But you could see breasts; they were there; they were visible. Whereas a girl could claim to have her period for months before she actually got it and nobody would ever know the difference. Which is exactly what I did. All you had to do was make a great fuss over having enough nickels for the Kotex machine and walk around clutching your stomach and moaning for three to five days a month about The Curse and you could convince anybody. There is a school of thought somewhere in the women's lib/women's mag/gynecology establishment that claims that menstrual cramps are purely psychological, and I lean toward it. The morning I first got my period, I went into my mother's bedroom to tell her. And my mother, my utterly-hateful-about-bras mother, burst into tears. It was really a lovely moment, and I remember it so clearly not just because it was one of the two times I ever saw my mother cry on my account (the other was when I was caught being a six-year-old kleptomaniac), but also because the incident did not mean to me what it meant to her. Her little girl, her firstborn, had finally become a woman. That was what she was crying about. My reaction to the event, however, was that I might well be a woman in some scientific, textbook sense (and could at least stop faking every month and stop wasting all those nickels). But in another sense—in a visible sense—I was as androgynous and as liable to tip over into boyhood as ever. |
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Movie Love goes deeper than just watching movies. Movie Love is something closer to obsession: thinking about films, talking about them, certainly reading about them. While writers have long been under-appreciated in Hollywood, there are scores of fascinating books about one of America's most famous industries—and defining cultural exports. Works like The Day of the Locust, Nathanial West's dark satire, or What Makes Sammy Run?, Budd Schulberg's unforgettable debut novel, are even considered literature. But if Hollywood is rough on screenwriters, novelists had their revenge, as you'll discover in Carrie Fisher's hilarious Postcards From the Edge, or I Lost My Girlish Laughter, a lost treasure by Jane Allen. There are also brilliant, detailed histories of the industry—starting, of course, with Kevin Brownlow on the silent era; An Empire of Their Own, by Neal Gabler; and Final Cut, Steven Bach's whipsmart insider's look at the Heaven's Gate disaster. "The making-of" is an appealing sub-genre, starting with Picture, Lillian Ross's account of the making of The Red Badge of Courage, and its spiritual successor, The Devil's Candy, Julie Salomon's blow-by-blow look at the debacle that was Bonfire of the Vanities. There are biographies galore—Chaplin, Stanwyck, Welles; candid, absorbing memoirs from Louise Brooks and Angelica Huston; and an unforgettable cult classic by Barbara Payton. Of course, we give the critics their due—Agee, Kael, Sarris, as well as craftspeople like editor Ralph Rosenblum and cinematographer James Wong Howe. There are more than a few surprises, too. And so we offer, for your consideration, our list of 125 essential books about Hollywood and the American movie experience. |
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Severance Episode 7 Is a Masterpiece. The Director Told Us How She Pulled It Off. |
Jessica Lee Gagné was on a flight when she realized she was playing it safe. The 37-year-old Severance cinematographer wasn't going to return for season 2—executive producer Ben Stiller (whom she previously worked with on Escape at Dannemora) and co. even asked if she would direct an episode this time around. Gagné said no; she loved working on the show, but was ready for something new. Still, there it was in front of her: the synopses of all ten episodes in Severance season 2. Her eyes landed on episode 7. "I had gone through a very crazy personal experience that was the beginning of me realizing many things in my life," Gagné told me. "One of them was that I had been playing safe for many things in my life. I read episode 7 and it really aligned with themes and things that I was very much in. I was like, Okay, I think I'm meant to do that episode... Directing is all about being vulnerable. It's all about putting yourself out there. I needed to learn to be vulnerable and to accept that I might fail." |
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Born in Jerusalem to an Algerian-French mother and a Palestinian-Serbian father, Saint Levant grew up in Gaza for the first seven years of his life before moving to Jordan, where his musical passion first flourished and later became a career. "[In Jordan] I started making music, and Alhamdulillah, it's working out for me, bro," he says in a grateful tone. He is extremely politically conscious and resilient, yet he's also jubilant. He's mature for his age, and humble given the trajectory he's on. Just a couple of weeks ago, he dropped his newest two-part compilation, Love Letters, in which the artist effortlessly bounces between Arabic, English, and French; a through-line with his music. Below, we discuss musical childhood influences, smoking a cigarette with Miuccia Prada and Raf Simons, championing Palestinian style in the face of an existential threat, and plenty more. |
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Chet Hanks isn't afraid to admit it: He has no game. He can hardly dribble or shoot a basketball. That lack of skills might seem likely to eliminate him from starring on Netflix's new basketball comedy Running Point as Travis Bugg, the star point guard for the Los Angeles Waves. And yet, as written, Travis is a tattooed troublemaker, an aspiring rapper, and someone known for social media controversy. Sound familiar? "I said, 'If I don't get this role, I'm just going to quit acting,'" Hanks tells me. "It was just uncanny—it's almost like it was written for me, but it wasn't. So I basically get to be a slightly exaggerated version of myself." For those of you asking who Chet Hanks is, clearly you aren't very online. The 34-year-old son of Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson first landed on the public's radar in 2011 while attending Northwestern University. He dropped "White and Purple," his remix of Wiz Khalifa's hit track "Black and Yellow." Everyone immediately had the same thought: Tom Hanks's kid is a rapper? Turns out, his surprises were just beginning. |
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If you can't ace the most basic part of your wardrobe—that is, a plain white T-shirt—you might as well give up on dressing now. Okay, I'm being hyperbolic, but I stand by the sentiment that a white T-shirt is the most fundamental garment you can own and that finding the perfect one for you is of the utmost importance. How can you possibly build a wardrobe on shaky foundations, with white tees that are ill fitting or ill made? You can't. That's where we come in. I asked five Esquire editors to do a selfless act of public service and share with you which white T-shirts they swear by. The world of white tees is absolutely endless, and it all comes down to preference; there are boxy fits, slim fits, long fits, cropped fits, white tees with curved hems and white tees with straight hems, white tees that are thin and white tees that are thick. Honestly, no two are made alike, and when you find the right one for you, it shows; a white tee should never look basic or boring and should always look like it was made specifically for you, like these ones do on our editors. Take notes, take inspiration, and let these Esquire-approved white T-shirts change your life (or at least your style). |
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