This Week

• What did Bradley Cooper do to you?

• All of my favorite things.

What’s With the Backlash?

Many people, it seems, have been personally attacked by Bradley Cooper. I’m not entirely sure what he’s done to them. 

Maybe they were on one of his film sets, where, he recently revealed, he doesn’t allow chairs for people to sit in during down time. That I get. Being seated or, preferably, reclined as often as possible, if not at all times, is incredibly important to me. (Charlie and the Chocolate Factory’s Grandpa Joe is a lifelong hero of mine.) But the vitriol that surfaced over the holiday weekend related to Cooper, his new film Maestro, and what appears to be his soul-seizing desire to win an Oscar is outsized to any fair criticisms there are to be made of the movie or his award ambitions. 

Cooper stars as legendary conductor and composer Leonard Bernstein in the film, a biopic that centers on his complicated marriage to actress Felicia Montealegre (Carey Mulligan), who he was with until her death—and through several affairs with men and women. It has received mostly positive reviews, with a contingent of ecstatic raves. What already seemed an obvious awards player became a surefire frontrunner in major categories. That would be surprising news if you lurk on its Letterboxd page or in certain corners of social media, where a dislike of the film—or, at least, its presence in the awards race—is growing in volume.

Again, there are plenty of people who are swooning over Maestro and think Cooper deserves to win his first Oscar for it. But these reactions, which seemed to be timed to the film hitting Netflix on Dec. 20, are certainly out of step with those initial, effusive reviews.

So what gives?

Films, especially those with eyes set on gold-plated naked men, seem to now go through several stages of release and reaction, as the industry continues to evolve—and so does the way audiences consume and then vent about discuss them. 

There’s a splashy premiere at one of those fancy film festivals, where, drunk off champagne or the excitement to be the first people to see a buzzy movie, reviewers rush to be the first to crown the projects as masterpieces or surefire Oscar contenders. Attached to these typically overenthusiastic reactions is an exhausting arms race to be the audience that gives a movie—any movie, it seems—the longest standing ovation yet. (Given my pre-stated passion for all things sedentary, you can imagine my irritation over this tradition.)

Months later, the plebians (critics who don’t get to fly to the Croisette to screen a new Martin Scorsese film) see these movies, offering what are often more measured and considered reactions than the festival hype. That’s not the case for every movie; some are still deemed worth the initial fawning. But bear with us.

Then the movie hits streaming, and all bets are off. Social media becomes an unpredictable screaming match of extreme opinions, which can be disarming in its loudness and furor, like watching a fireworks show go off in your living room. Where did these explosives come from? And who set them off? 

When Saltburn hit Prime Video, a person risked whiplash by scrolling through social media reactions, with some posters drooling over the film as a twisted, sensual triumph—and others seemingly calling for everyone involved in the project to be charged with war crimes, they had so much vitriol for it. The response when May Decemberhit Netflix was less polarized, with most people rallying around the film’s audacious tone. The surprise of Riverdale alum Charles Melton’s nuanced, devastating performance will likely make him a Cinderella-story Oscar nominee. Yet, at times, it seemed that drowning all of that out was a relentless, confusing conversation about whether or not it appropriately addressed the issue of grooming that… was the very essence of the film.

Now that it’s on Netflix after so many months of festivals and accolades, I think there’s something about Maestro in particular, where the response is rebelling against an assumption that a viewer is supposed to admire it because it has been designated a movie worthy of awards. Everyone has their own taste; it can be exasperating to be told that something that might not be up your alley is automatically deemed “great.” Where’s that attention for the projects and performances you like? That can be especially frustrating when there’s the kind of narrative that surrounds Maestro, where it seems like every element of the film was orchestrated with the express desire to appeal to awards voters and win trophies. 

My read: Any sort of “hatred” of the movie is overblown. Like every film, I think it was at least 30 minutes too long. (I thought it ended three different times.) Some of the narrative decisions weren’t necessary, like framing the film around a career retrospective interview. But the movie was a thrill ride. There are some sequences that rank among the most exhilarating of the year, and Cooper and Mulligan are often stunning. 

Those accomplishments comprise a remarkable film in my mind, and the fact that it sparks disagreement is maybe one the greatest testaments to its merits. What’s lost—and I wonder if we’ll ever find again—is the ability to conduct (heh) those should-be-rousing discussions with any sort of nuance again.

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The Best Things of 2023

I spent some time curating a personal Best Movies, Best TV Shows, and Best Performances list. (As in: I spent hours on a Notes App poring over those things.) But when I looked at them, they didn’t reflect the joy I felt this year while covering pop culture. That made me sad. 

Things are rough; they have been for years now. But there was so much joy to be had these last 12 months. So instead of those lists, here is a rundown of things that popped up in my mind when I thought, “What did I watch or see that made me happy this year?” It’s a nonsense list. Most of these things actually made me cry. But I thought they were beautiful moments, and they moved me. And this list, true to the prompt, made me really happy to write. I hope you enjoy, and reflect on your own picks as we head into a new year.

When Christine Baranski made that dramatic turn to walk down the church aisle at her sister’s wedding in The Gilded Age.

Rachel McAdams’ monologue about why she doesn’t see her parents anymore in Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret., the best acting of the year. 

Heléne Yorke and Josh Segarra having a relationship fight that felt realer than Marriage Story in The Other Two, a series so funny that it has also been called modern TV’s 30 Rock.

When the ghost of Princess Diana showed up in The Crown and I got to say, “Is that the ghost of Princess Diana?!?”

Jennifer Aniston lying vadge to butthole on Jon Hamm in their post-coital scene from The Morning Show, the perfect encapsulation of how the show is so wonderfully human-adjacent. 

Every single Beyoncé mute video, including any taken from my section at MetLife Stadium when the girl behind me wooed immediately.

The Renaissance tour movie being somehow better than the Renaissance tour, the best live show I’ve ever been to. 

The gay pride episode of What We Do in the Shadows, particularly when Kayvan Novak returns from outer space naked. 

Throw a dart at any scene from the final season of Barry, and that could be my favorite one.

Jonathan Bailey’s speech as Tim about love with no regrets delivered to Matt Bomer as Hawk in the finale of Fellow Travelers, the most I cried this year. 

Watching Mrs. Davis, the show about nuns, AI, and Nazis, and having no fucking clue where the show was going at any moment. 

Kelly Clarkson performing “Mine” specifically for me (in my mind) at her Vegas residency to heal my broken soul with her words and lyrics. 

Michaela Watkins’ supporting turn in You Hurt My Feelings, the undersung performance of the year. 

The Marvelous Mrs. Maiselabsolutely nailing its final season. 

The atomic bomb sequence in Oppenheimer. (I whispered, “Wow.”) 

When I saw the young actors from Theater Camp, possibly the movie I enjoyed the most this year, performing after its Sundance premiere. 

When I watched Poker Face in its entirety while on a long flight, the most enjoyable travel experience I’ve ever had. 

Honestly, all the parts of Saltburn you all are arguing about. 

Harrison Ford riding a horse on subway tracks in the latest Indiana Jones. 

Tom Cruise parachuting off a cliff in the new Mission: Impossible. 

The Broadway revival of Merrily We Roll Along, which was honestly as good as everyone said it would be. 

Housewivesssss! (Why single out a moment from a franchise that is my light, my love, my family?)

When Janet Jackson whipped her gigantic high ponytail around at her concert. 

Padma Lakshmi tearfully announcing the winner of Top Chef: World All Stars, possibly the finest season of a reality TV competition I’ve ever watched, hosted by the best there is. 

Danielle Brooks breaking out into laughter to kick off the third act of The Color Purple, the grace note on one of the most formidable screen performances I’ve ever seen.

The ABBA Christmas SNL sketch, which made me start coughing because I laughed so much. 

That video of Catherine Zeta-Jones rehearsing “All That Jazz” that went viral recently and left me spellbound. 

The restaurant opening episode of The Bear, particularly Abby Elliott’s performance—I don’t know why I was so touched by it. 

The sounds of Lady Gaga at her concert finishing the end of her Top Gun ballad as I was in a car driving away from the arena, having suffered a back spasm from being old and dancing and thus being forced to leave early.

That scene between J. Smith-Cameron and Kieran Culkin in the final season of Succession, but also every face Sarah Snook made that somehow reinvented the entire concept of TV acting in thrilling ways. 

That sex scene in Passages.

Every second Sandra Hüller proved she was the year’s best actress in Anatomy of a Falland The Zone of Interest.

Da’Vine Joy Randolph delivering a performance I’m going to love rewatching each year over Christmas in The Holdovers.

Lisa Ann Walter as Melissa Schemmenti geeking out over the fire trucks on Abbott Elementary. 

When Jamie Tartt and Roy Kent rode bikes in Amsterdam on Ted Lasso, as if I hadn’t already written that as fan fiction.

Teyana Taylor becoming an acting titan in A Thousand and One, an undersung movie more people should be talking about. 

When I discovered that Found on NBC is the best new show of the year.

My nephews singing “Peaches” after watching The Super Mario Bros. Movie.

Andrew Scott and Jamie Bell’s big scene in All of Us Strangers, which I’m still crying about. 

The sixth time I saw Titanique.

Cher and Darlene Love singing “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” together at the Rockefeller tree lighting ceremony, a joining of three icons (the tree is the third, duh) performing my favorite Christmas song.  

When Gwyneth Paltrow whispered “I wish you well” at the end of her ski trial.

Greta Lee hugging Teo Yoo at the end of Past Lives.

The last scene of Killers of the Flower Moon. (And not just because I really needed to pee.)

All of Barbie when I saw it a second time, but that time I was sober and could appreciate it.

Ariana Madix dancing to Britney Spears on Dancing With the Stars, which made me clap and say to no one in particular, “Yay for her!”

The tweet announcing that Mamma Mia! and Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again are both coming to Netflix Jan. 1.

More From The Daily Beast’s Obsessed 

2023 was the year of Michael Cera. Put some respect on his name. Read more.

An ode to year’s biggest flops. Read more.

How Cillian Murphy’s face became the year’s best meme. Read more.

• The Holdovers: This is a new holiday classic, and it’s now available to rent on VOD. (Now on VOD)
• Only Murders in the Building: The charming first season is going to start airing on ABC, if you haven’t watched yet. (Tues. on ABC)

• Berlin: Such a disappointing prequel to the really fun Money Heist series. (Now on Netflix)

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