In F1, dreams are fulfilled when a retired driver returns to the racing world and gives his all for one final shot at victory.

In Marty Supreme, dreams are destroyed when Marty’s ambition turns into obsession that eventually consumes him.

And in Train Dreams, the dreams in question are no longer present desires, but abandoned ones lingering as ghosts of the past.

These films could not be more different, yet they all arrive at the same conclusion. Our dreams endure. Whether they fly, fall, or fade into the background, our dreams persist in our minds as manifestations of who we wish to be and the lives we wish we could live.

In the creative field, there’s an expectation that you should be fueled by big dreams. Everyone seems to have a north star guiding their way. A singular ambition that burns brightly to guide their way forward, illuminating even the darkest nights.

I write this as The Cranberries’ classic “Dreams” echoes throughout my bedroom. On the surface, this 90s dream pop anthem is a beautiful love song. Dolores O'Riordan sings about falling so completely in love with another person that the feeling becomes dreamlike.

But for me, “Dreams” is also about the euphoria of positive change. It makes me think of the times where I took a leap of faith. Like deciding to quit the job that was draining me, or writing my first ever post on Substack. It reminds me of how life is about seizing opportunities, especially the ones that may not be conspicuous at first. The shimmering guitars and every one of O’Riordan’s unmistakable yodels embody that rush of becoming, when fantasy materializes into reality.

Of course, I also think of Faye Wong’s unforgettable Cantonese rendition in the 1994 Wong Kar-wai film Chungking Express. Likewise, the song speaks to that same celebration of possibilities and the morphing into something new. And for a moment, however fleeting, that feeling of newness is eternal.

Perhaps on the opposite end of the spectrum lies the other famous “Dreams”: Fleetwood Mac's 1977 smash hit from their timeless album Rumours. Lyrically, the Stevie Nicks-led classic is certainly more sinister. Nicks sings not from stepping into a dream like O’Riordan did, but from an unraveling of one, amidst the collapse of her relationship with bandmate Lindsey Buckingham.

Unlike O’Riordan’s wide-eyed wonder, Nicks delivers each line with weary acceptance. She understands that something precious is slipping away in real time, and there’s nothing she can do to stop it. The dream she once believed in has collided with reality and is now irreparably changed. “When the rain washes you clean, you’ll know,” she concludes.

Of course, I have dreams too.

I’m writing this as I pursue my biggest dream.

Perhaps I’ll be blessed with my Cranberries moment and feel like my life is changing every day. And I’ll be celebrating triumphantly like Javier Bardem did in F1.

Or maybe I’m Stevie Nicks and this dream of mine will fall apart. Maybe pursuing it will ruin me the way Marty Mauser's dreams ruined him. Maybe my reality will never quite live up to the fantasies I’ve built in my head.

I guess that’s the cost of daring to dream.

The moment you allow yourself to want something badly, you also accept the possibility of disappointment. Yet, the alternative feels worse. I don’t think I could live a life without believing in something.

I’ve always dreamed of working in the music industry. I’ll see to it now.

Cheers.

I was listening to Addison Rae’s new album the other day and found myself lingering on its closing track, “Headphones On.”

So I put my headphones on
Listen to my favorite song

In the song, Rae sings about listening to her favorite music to drown out the noise, using it as a refuge when life gets too loud. The song is rather simple lyrically, but it captures something universal humans share: turning to music for pleasure.

Music is a sanctuary I know I can always retreat to. Whether it’s a bad day at work or a long night where overthinking runs rampant, sometimes all it takes is just a good song to feel alright again. Sad songs work best for some when they’re already sad, allowing them to plunge into the full intensity of melancholy. For others, the opposite applies: crank up something aggressively cheery to counteract the sorrow.

For me, I love to indulge in a meta moment and listen to artists sing about their relationship with music itself. Rae’s “Headphones On” is a great example; it’s essentially the mission statement of her debut album Addison. Honoring her love for pop music, Rae sought out to make a feel-good pop record, creating a safe space for herself whilst also hoping that it can be one for her listeners too. Surely, it did the trick for me.

Of course, Rae isn’t the first to write about her love for music. I think of American pop duo Carpenters and their 1973 classic “Yesterday Once More.”

Those old melodies
Still sound so good to me
As they melt the years away

Karen Carpenter draws the association between music and memory, celebrating the old tunes she adored in her youth and noting how they still move her after all these years. As I grow older, I definitely relate to this song more as my relationship with music deepens.

In the streaming age, people are listening to older music more than ever before, driven by streaming’s instant accessibility to music catalogs and a media landscape that feasts on familiarity. I’m a victim of nostalgia’s grip too. Admittedly, I still have the music I’ve grown up with on heavy rotation, even though I know there’s a lot of great new music out there for me to discover.

Music is memory. The songs we grew up with inevitably become the soundtracks of our lives. When I listen to Owl City’s “Fireflies,” I see the faces of my primary school classmates whose names I can barely remember. The Chainsmokers’ “Closer” reminds me of carefree junior college days, while Taylor Swift’s folklore album brings back all the bittersweet memories of my first year in university.

These memories remain vivid and intact, as if no time has passed.

And then there’s “My Church,” perhaps the greatest song ever written about music itself.

I find holy redemption when I put this car in drive
Roll the windows down and turn up the dial

This Maren Morris track is squarely a country song at its core, but its message transcends genres. What Morris does so interestingly here is likening music to a personal place of worship, using traditionally religious terms to convey her deep feelings she has for country music. In Morris’s figurative church, she pictures Hank Williams bringing the sermon and Johnny Cash leading the choir. As she drives down the highway listening to her favorite music, she finds her “soul revival”.

The song’s soaring chorus and Morris’ powerhouse vocals makes the song perfect to scream along to on a road trip. Every “hallelujah” and “amen” feels like Morris pressing her foot harder on the gas pedal and accelerating into the wild winds. I might not be religious, but Morris’s lyrics clearly resonate with me, because I, too, have felt like I found salvation in music too.

For Addison Rae, music is escape. For Carpenters, music is memory. For Maren Morris, music is divinity. And you know what, they’re all valid.

What’s your favorite song about music?

Jokes aside… if you’ve been plugged into pop culture lately, chances are you’ve heard at least a snippet of Chappell Roan’s latest single “The Subway,” perhaps ambushing you via a TikTok edit of a fictional heartbreak you still haven’t gotten over yet.

The streets are already declaring it the song of the year (I’m streets). So why is “The Subway” resonating with so many people?

For Chappell Roan, more is more. From the theatrical makeup and camp costumes to the high-octane performances with soaring vocal runs, she has made maximalism her brand. That same instinct is well and alive in “The Subway,” though it’s wielded with more restraint. The dream pop ballad begins with lush guitars and melancholic yodels from Roan, then eventually swells into a gargantuan release of catharsis in the outro, where she belts the line “She’s got a way / she got away” over and over.

The wordplay is obviously clever here, but with every repetition Roan gathers strength, as if she’s trying to exorcise the memory out of her being. It’s no wonder that the song has gone viral. “I’m still counting down all of the days ‘til you’re just another girl in the subway,” Roan describes a heartbreak that continues to linger and haunt her long after it’s ended, and I reckon it’s an experience we’ve all been through in one way or another.

For queer people in particular, such yearning is not just familiar; I’d say it’s almost foundational to our lived experience. So much of queer love exists in the margins: the what-ifs and the if-onlys. I think that’s precisely why “The Subway” hits so hard for many queer folks, for it brought us back to a time when we longed for someone we couldn’t have, or grieved for a love that was never meant to be.

Of course, heartbreak is universal and I’m sure many heterosexual people can relate to the ache Roan describes. However, the isolation built into the queer experience makes love, and the loss of it, feel doubly devastating. That’s why when Roan was able to describe queer yearning with such piercing specificity in “The Subway,” I understand why queer listeners have become territorial over the song.

I like to lurk on online forums to get my pop culture news, though my experience is often soured by anonymous stans bickering over frivolous nonsense. But when “The Subway” dropped, it felt like the internet remembered how to be kind again. (I could go off about how the internet has become so mean-spirited and cynical, but that’s a rant for another day.)

The barrage of heartfelt stories that began pouring in from other queer individuals moved me a lot. For a fleeting but unmistakable moment, I felt a sense of connection to these strangers.

At its core, isn’t that what music is about?

The artist tears apart their soul over and over again just to excavate a piece of themselves worth offering to the world. If the stars align, that art finds its rightful audience who see themselves reflected in it. “The Subway” does exactly that, and the outpouring of confessions is all the evidence you need that this song has solidified its impact.

These individual stories might seem unimportant on their own, but they come together to show us that queer yearning, while so often shrouded in shame, is not some isolating affair. It’s a universal experience many queer people share despite leading wildly different lives and being from opposite ends of the world.

If anything, Chappell Roan should be proud for penning an instant classic that dignifies our presence and validates our feelings. Yearning is not a sign of weakness, but a proof of dream. And if there’s anything queer people can always hold onto, it’s our dreams.

The time has come… it’s of my favorite Best Actress races of all time: Olivia Colman vs. Glenn Close.

In 2018, the industry seemed ready to finally give Glenn Close her overdue Oscar, so how did Olivia Colman pull off a major upset? Let’s find out.

The performance

Firstly, let’s just establish that I was cuntstruck when I first watched The Favourite. It’s a film I’ll always have fond memories of. Having stumbled upon it during the early days of my cinephile awakening phase, it reframed my understanding of what I thought cinema could and should be.

Director Yorgos Lanthimos opts for a highly stylized aesthetic here, but this is definitely not a style over substance effort. From its lavish production design to the brazen use of fisheye lens, The Favourite wears its quirks proudly. These oddities become a curious invitation for viewers, ushering us into the film’s warped world where cruelty and comedy have a dance together.

At the center of the chaos is a spellbinding trifecta of actresses—Emma Stone, Rachel Weisz, and Olivia Colman—caught in a revolving door of allegiance and manipulation. Watching them slip into their roles as they circle one another felt like witnessing a grand duel in slow motion. It gets vicious and cutthroat between these women, but it’s also strangely beautiful to watch them tear themselves apart to get their hearts’ desire.

While Stone and Weisz are both operating at near career-best standards here, Colman’s Queen Anne is the undeniable anchor of the film for me. She’s the gravitational force that pulls everything and everyone together. At first glance, Anne appears unbearably petulant and comically unfit for royalty, but Colman peels back the layers of Anne to reveal her humanity beyond the crown, allowing us to see her in all her tragedy and glory.

One moment, Anne is shrieking in agony over her gout-ridden legs; next she’s frozen in a haunted stillness that speaks more than any line of dialogue could. It’s an unpredictable performance for sure, chaotic even, but never once incoherent.

As loud as Colman’s performance gets, her most affecting scenes for me are the quietest.

I’m talking about the little sulk she does when Sarah tells her she looks like a badger. Or that lingering shot as she gazes out into a roaring ballroom; her teary eyes spelling out the unspeakable unhappiness she has despite wielding all the power in the country. Or how about that broken stare in the final scene where she realizes that she's very much stuck, not just in her frail body, but by Abigail’s tyranny, circling her like a vulture waiting for their prey to die?

This is an Oscar-winning performance for the ages!!!

The nominees

Who won what:
Golden Globes Best Actress (Drama): Glenn Close, The Wife
Golden Globes Best Actress (Comedy/Musical): Olivia Colman, The Favourite
Critics Choice Best Actress: Glenn Close, The Wife AND Lady Gaga, A Star is Born (TIE)
SAG Best Actress: Glenn Close, The Wife
BAFTA Best Actress: Olivia Colman, The Favourite
Oscars: Olivia Colman, The Favourite

Colman’s biggest competition, of course, was Glenn Close for The Wife. I haven’t seen the film before this, because let’s be real, it’s a film no one would care about unless they are invested in Glenn Close finally winning an Oscar.

Don’t get me wrong, Close is very good in The Wife. She gives a wonderfully restrained performance, and that’s exactly the type of performance I tend to gravitate towards. Sadly, The Wife as a film didn’t serve her well. I didn’t feel like the film was particularly interested in her character’s inner thoughts despite the title, and I came away thinking the film didn’t give her nearly enough space to shine.

In contrast, Colman’s performance in The Favourite, while also having limited screentime, is one hell of a dynamite. Perhaps it was a case of bad luck, because Close’s performance and her overdue narrative might’ve just sent her over the edge in another Oscar year, but not this one.

Lady Gaga was also in the mix that year for her leading film debut in A Star Is Born. I still remember the raves when it premiered at Venice, but as the season progressed, the hype started to cool down considerably. By the time we got to the Oscars, Gaga’s nomination felt more like a “welcome to the club” gesture than a real shot at the gold. In addition, once it became clear that Best Original Song was a lock for “Shallow”, I reckon the industry likely saw that as the best way to reward both Gaga and the film.

Conclusion

Alongside Michelle Yeoh, I think this is easily the best Oscar win I’ve covered so far. The stars truly aligned for this moment. I love the film. I love the performance. I love the actress. I was rooting hard for her as the underdog, and then she pulled off an upset nobody saw coming.

Colman’s teary acceptance speech was an absolute delight too. You could see how genuinely shocked she was. The whole room was stunned too, including poor Glenn Close.

Honestly, I can’t imagine how much it stings to lose an award you were heavily predicted to win, and then having to sit there and smile while the cameras are on you. But Colman, in all her warmth and humor, broke the tension in the room instantly. Her shoutout to Close (“this is not how I wanted it to be”) was delivered with such grace, it turned a potentially awkward moment into something sweet and made the win even more rewarding.

Do you think Olivia Colman deserved the Oscar for The Favourite? (The answer is yes)

Ranking so far…

1. Olivia Colman, The Favourite

2. Michelle Yeoh, Everything Everywhere All at Once

3. Emma Stone, Poor Things

4. Frances McDormand, Nomadland

5. Renée Zellweger, Judy

6. Jessica Chastain, The Eyes of Tammy Faye

Up next

We go back to 2017 next, where Frances McDormand won her second Oscar for Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. Like many Oscars enthusiasts, I look back at this year fondly, for it has one of the most stacked Best Actress lineups ever. I’ve got so much to discuss for each nominee…

Stay tuned!

It’s been 84 years… but Best Actress Challenge is back. This time, we’re discussing Renée Zellweger’s win for the Judy Garland biopic Judy, directed by Rupert Goold.

The performance

This is the first time I’m watching a film specifically for this endeavor, so there were no prior takeaways to interrogate or undo.

Honestly, I was dreading this (maybe that’s why this piece took so long), because I’ve always found Zellweger’s win to be uneventful. Ask any film enthusiast and you’ll know that 2019 is agreed upon as one of the best years for cinema in recent history. The trove of amazing leading female performances from equally amazing films was bountiful, but of course the Oscars had to do the Oscars thing and reward yet another generic biopic performance.

Judy was exactly like what I’ve imagined—a sanitized Oscar bait vehicle built around Renée Zellweger’s transformation into Judy Garland. With its sympathetic portrayal of Garland in the final year of her life, the film tugs at your heartstrings and dares you not to applaud (you can’t). Garland wasn’t always revered in her lifetime and the film is sure to remind you of that. In some ways, it's not only a biopic but also a belated love letter to a Hollywood legend from an industry that once failed her.

To its credit, Judy at least avoids the usual cradle-to-grave narrative structure. It doesn’t walk us through Garland’s entire life like a Wikipedia page. Instead, it zeroes in on a couple weeks in 1969, when she was performing in a London theater whilst battling drug addiction and being away from her children. The flashbacks to her The Wizard of Oz days are sparse, but enough to hint at the lifelong scars inflicted upon her.

You will feel for Zellweger’s Judy Garland, from the ache in her voice to the exhaustion in her eyes. I have to say, Zellweger is really going for it here, and not just in the “ha! look at my transformation!” sense. She gives Garland this tender fragility that feels earnest, and I have to commend her for this sincerity when going full ham would’ve been an easy way to play a larger-than-life person like Garland instead.

I also appreciated the scene where Garland has a chance encounter with two gay fans waiting outside the stage door. They invite her over and they spend the night eating, singing, and basking in one another’s company. The scene offers Garland a rare moment of respite—unfortunately fleeting, but so comforting and warm. And of course, it’s a beautiful nod to Garland’s enduring legacy amongst the gay community.

To be fair, I’m someone who’s easily moved by what I see on screen. So yes, what Zellweger does here is moving. And the film knows it too. It relies heavily on our collective affection for Judy Garland, using sentimentality as emotional currency. It didn’t help that I watched The Wizard of Oz right before this too, so of course my heart ached during those flashback scenes to young Judy Garland on that very set.

Strip away the emotional fluff though, and you’re left with a remarkably bland biopic film. There’s little to remember, and Zellweger’s performance isn’t quite as transcendent as some Best Actress winners we’ve seen so far. It gets the job done, but it’s not the type of performance that I gravitate towards.

The nominees

Who won what:
Golden Globes Best Actress (Drama): Renée Zellweger, Judy
Golden Globes Best Actress (Comedy/Musical): Awkwafina, The Farewell
Critics Choice Best Actress: Renée Zellweger, Judy
SAG Best Actress: Renée Zellweger, Judy
BAFTA Best Actress: Renée Zellweger, Judy
Oscars: Renée Zellweger, Judy

Part of the reason Zellweger’s win felt so uneventful to me was because she had a clean sweep of all the major precursors. Unlike recent years where we had suspenseful races, Zellweger’s win was inevitable going into Oscar night.

I’ll forever wonder why no one else factored into the race. Scarlett Johansson in Marriage Story and Saoirse Ronan in Little Women were both great performances in Best Picture nominees. Both actresses were beloved by the industry and felt like they’re due for industry recognition, and yet… nothing.

Biopics reign supreme, I guess.

As for my personal pick, Greta Gerwig’s Little Women is easily one of my favorite films of 2019, and at its core is one beating heart: Saoirse Ronan. Her Jo March feels both timeless and contemporary. This is the kind of performance that doesn’t rely on prosthetics or mimicry to impress; just a grounded actress bringing a character to life with conviction. I especially love how Gerwig reimagines the literary classic with such depth, and it’s clear to me that Ronan was in lockstep with her to help refine Jo March as a modern heroine.

I won’t forget Johansson for the memes… and yes, there’s two more biopic nominees in this category, forcing out some really stellar performances that year.

Lupita Nyong’o in Us is the biggest snub for me. It’s no secret the Academy is allergic to the horror genre. Sure, Jordan Peele’s very own Get Out did well at the Oscars but it had the cultural impact and box office to back it up. Us didn’t have that. What a shame, because Nyong’o played two characters perfectly and her work deserved to be recognized.

I also have to give Awkwafina her flowers for The Farewell. Some people think she’s talentless because of her grating loudmouth sidekick shtick, but I urge everyone to watch The Farewell to witness what Awkwafina is capable of. I didn’t think she had this type of subdued performance in her, but she proved me wrong.

Ana de Armas was another big one too. Her star-making turn in Knives Out is delightful, and I thought she brought such warmth and dry wit to Marta.

And of course, Portrait of a Lady on Fire. Noémie Merlant and Adèle Haenel were never getting nominated for a French slow burn lesbian drama, but they absolutely deserved recognition in my book.

Conclusion

In my opinion, this Oscar was as much for Judy Garland as it was for Renée Zellweger. Garland never received a competitive Oscar in her lifetime, so this win felt like Hollywood trying to retroactively right a wrong.

This isn’t a new concept for the Academy—Zellweger herself rode on a similar narrative before. After narrowly losing Best Actress to Nicole Kidman in 2002’s tight race (more on that next time!), she was rewarded the next year with what many saw as a “makeup win” in Supporting Actress. Of course, this scenario is different because it’s not Garland who’s being honored, but someone who mimicked her so well they decided to give her an Oscar.

While this wouldn’t have been my personal pick, I can’t bring myself to hate the win. After her hot streak in the late 90s and early 00s, Zellweger had been away from the public eye for a while, written off by an industry that tends to shelf women after a certain age. And unlike her peers—Cate Blanchett, Nicole Kidman, and Julianne Moore for example—she was never celebrated by cinephiles in the same way. For me, I saw this as the Judy Garland redemption effect making its way back to Zellweger herself.

If anything, I just wish she harnessed this Oscar win into booking more exciting projects. Since Judy in 2019, she’s only been in a meagre two projects—a middling true crime minisiries The Thing About Pam and a third Bridget Jones sequel released earlier this year. Come on, Renée.

Do you think Renée Zellweger deserved the Oscar for Judy?

Ranking so far…

1. Michelle Yeoh, Everything Everywhere All at Once

2. Emma Stone, Poor Things

3. Frances McDormand, Nomadland

4. Renée Zellweger, Judy

5. Jessica Chastain, The Eyes of Tammy Faye

Up next

For 2018, we have one of my favorite Best Actress races of all time. On one hand, there’s the legendary Glenn Close gunning for an Oscar for The Wife, and on the other, Olivia Colman and her luminous performance for Yorgos Lanthimos’ The Favourite. Colman’s win was quite the upset, as many thought Close’s overdue narrative was undeniable at that time.

I adore The Favourite (it’s in my Letterboxd top 4), but I do plan to watch The Wife for the first time too, hoping to give Glenn her due and truly understand the context of this race before I offer my two cents.

Stay tuned!

It’s not the pain of dying that scares me. It’s the idea that one day, I’ll simply disappear from the face of Earth and not be here to enjoy the sun with my loved ones, listen to new music, or witness society evolve through time. Life on Earth will go on as usual, but I won’t…

I know what you’re thinking: this existential fear isn’t helpful at all. I wish I could switch it off too, but I’ve grown too cynical to ever ignore it. Death lingers behind my every thought, and I’m strangely drawn to things that remind me of it. For example, I’ve unintentionally found myself on #GriefTok, where people mourn and bond over their losses in life. Every post on #GriekTok is a gut punch; a painful but necessary reminder of the fragility of life.

Sometimes, my fear of death gets in the way of my living. Every day, we inch closer to our deaths yet there’s no way to pause or rewind. The future is a fog I can’t see through, and the uncertainty can be crippling. Perhaps that’s why I find comfort in the past. Be it retreating into old TV shows or songs, nostalgia has become my drug of choice.

On the note of nostalgic music, we have to talk about Lady Gaga. Like many older Gen Z kids, I was raised by THE Mother Monster herself. I remember fondly when it was impossible to escape her in pop culture (not that I wanted to). Gaga came onto the scene being unapologetically herself, and that’s exactly why I look up to her. Growing up, I’ve always felt unsure of myself. Who am I? Do I belong here? Do I have to change myself to fit in?

I speak for many fans when I say that Gaga’s 2011 album Born This Way was a revelation. Her message of self-love and empowerment was simple but seismic, and with her music came emancipation, giving us the freedom and courage to exist in a world that didn’t always feel fit for us.

Since then, I’ve closely followed Gaga’s career for over a decade now, and earlier this year, she released her seventh studio album MAYHEM. On my first listen, I was instantly drawn to one song that gave me goosebumps: “Vanish into You.”

Some songs take time to grow, others hook you immediately, but “Vanish” echoes like a song that I’ve known all my life. Although it’s a new song, it already feels nostalgic to me. Not because the melody was familiar, but because the emotion was. “Vanish” tapped into that exact feeling I’ve carried with me for years—the fear of death mixed with the desire to live life to its fullest.

Sonically, “Vanish” is a soaring dance-pop anthem, soaked in shades of wistful euphoria that I love best in my favorite Gaga songs like “The Edge of Glory” and “Marry the Night.”

“When I die, can I vanish into you?” Gaga asks in the song’s final chorus. It’s a seemingly inane question, but I see it as a vulnerable and human plea. Gaga does not want immortality nor does she care about being remembered by the world. She understands that death is inevitable, but she wonders if the harsh finality of death could be softened by love. If vanishing could mean merging into someone, not simply disappearing. And if afterlife was a hoax, at least we could still live on in someone else.

Last Wednesday, I caught Gaga live in Singapore on her recent run of promotional shows for MAYHEM here. I teared up when she surprised us at the piano with “Always Remember Us This Way” and lost my cool at the show-stopping theatrics of “Poker Face,” but it was the precious moment of fan engagement during “Vanish into You” that was the most beautiful to witness in person.

“I wrote this song about what you feel like saying to somebody when you just love them so much but you feel so afraid,” Gaga explained on stage before heading down to the stadium floor to greet fans who swarmed her for autographs and selfies.

I’ve already felt so seen that night—Gaga has a way of making misfits feel like they belong—but during “Vanish into You,” I felt it so viscerally in my bones. It was like she was speaking directly to this tangled knot of fear and desire I’ve carried inside me for years. Of course, in a twist so cruel it’s almost poetic, my phone storage ran out right during the song… but maybe that’s fitting? Perhaps some moments are meant to live only in our memory.

To return to the question I posed above, I honestly still don’t know what happens after I die. And I’ll never know. But now, I have this song and the memory of Gaga singing it to a stadium full of strangers, each of us holding onto our quiet fears, yet all marching toward the same inevitable end.

Death is certain. But so is life. It does me no good to keep hiding in the past when life insists on moving forward with or without me. Maybe I just have to make the best memories I can with the people I love in this short amount of time I have on Earth, so when the time comes, I can vanish into them. And vice versa.

If we’re gonna vanish one day, we might as well vanish into each other.

I’ve been meaning to write, but life hasn’t been kind to me lately. It’s not entirely disastrous, thankfully, yet there’s this quiet dissatisfaction simmering in me that never goes away. And it’s really bugging me. Every day starts to feel the same… maybe I need a reinvention?

A new job? A pet? Or should I shave my head?

I’ve seen and enjoyed Sinners of course, but I haven’t really been watching that many films (like a good cinephile should~) since the Oscars. I think it’s an attention span thing—during this lull period at the theaters, a lot of the films I want to catch up on are online instead, but I find myself not having the same patience to sit and watch without pausing anymore.

It’s honestly devastating that my attention span is so fried, but I guess I’m merely a cog in the machine after all. It’s not my fault! Bring on the 2-minute songs and Netflix shows at 2x speed (jk never)

I stopped poptimister Monthlies too, because they’ve started to feel like a chore I have to complete every month. And the last thing I want is for this Substack to turn into something I dislike. It’s been my safe space and I know I have to protect it. My snail-paced film-watching progress is also slowing down the rate of new Best Actress Challenge pieces, but do trust that I’ve not given up on that yet. It’ll keep going because I look forward to watch so many of these films.

Amidst the fog, I started posting random pop culture videos on my new TikTok account (yet another sign of my spiraling attention span). It works for me so far, as I’m having loads of fun making simple videos when writing here feels too draining.

So… back to me and wanting reinvention.

I don’t know. Being an adult seems so easy and difficult at the same time. I have an okay job, I have good friends and family by my side, I am mostly happy. I shouldn’t be complaining, right?

But I keep feeling like this isn’t quite it. Maybe I should have a job that holds more personal meaning. Maybe I should be engaging with the world (and music, films, TV shows) in a more curious and perceptive way instead of just going through the motions of life mindlessly. Time is finite, and I know I shouldn’t waste it. Other times, I think I should stop wasting my passion for pop culture and find a way to turn it into a proper income stream. But should I even be commodifying myself like that? Oh, sweet capitalism…

Unfortunately, I don’t have any answers. If you’re feeling the same way as me too, all I know is that we’re in this shit together and I’m so sorry.

What I can say though is that I’ve been keeping myself sane by latching onto little things to look forward to. From weekly episodes of Severance and The Pitt (an excellent new medical drama… highly recommend!) to a Gracie Abrams concert, and now… all I can think about is Lady Gaga. She’s bringing her universally acclaimed Coachella set to Singapore in two weeks and I know it’s gonna be a BLAST.

And then afterwards, I’ll occupy my mind with something else: Lorde Summer AND a HAIM Summer… Survivor 50 casting announcement… Whenever Olivia Rodrigo decides to put out new music…

I used to think that either my physical circumstances or my mindset has to radically change for me to feel any better. But if both options seem too far-fetched for my cynical and low-paid self, maybe this could be the fix. Rather than a reinvention, I’m just gonna try keeping life interesting in small bursts. The mundanity will still be constant, but also temporary, if that even makes sense.

And I promise, when life gets interesting again, I’ll find time to write about it again.

Best,
Fidel

Welcome back to another post of my Best Actress Challenge series. This time, let’s discuss Frances McDormand’s Oscar-winning performance for Nomadland. For her portrayal as the grieving nomad Fern, McDormand bagged her third Best Actress Oscar and won another that night for producing the Best Picture-winning film.

First impression

Let’s go back to 2020 for a second. The world was upended by a global pandemic and industries were in crisis mode, including Hollywood. Cinemas were closed, productions were halted, and blockbuster releases were pushed back indefinitely. With studio tentpoles out of the way, indie films had much more breathing room that year, and one film in particular dominated the conversation. That film was Chloé Zhao’s Nomadland.

By the end of the awards season, Nomadland became the undeniable frontrunner with unstoppable momentum, winning the Golden Lion at Venice, the People’s Choice Award at Toronto, and then dominating the major precursors like the Globes, BAFTA, and PGA.

There’s just something about Zhao’s introspective storytelling that struck a chord with the film industry in a year of isolation and uncertainty. The film’s themes of grief and resilience were particularly poignant, capturing the zeitgeist of a fractured world reckoning with change.

And with its success came Frances McDormand’s third Best Actress win.

Looking back, I was completely swept up in that same hype train too. I remember being so desperate to watch Nomadland because I felt like I needed to experience what was touted as a cinematic masterpiece. And when I finally did, I was truly moved by what I saw. Maybe it was just the right film at the right time for me too; I recall struggling with charting my own life path and yearning for more social connection. It was comforting to watch Fern drift from place to place and finding fleeting moments of community before moving on again.

This was my review back then:

“Nomadland” is a film that is very much grounded in reality. Chloé Zhao's ambitious vision coupled with Frances McDormand's sublime presence made me feel like Fern is a friend I could really empathize with. Right from the get go, the film invites the audience on Fern's nomadic journey of meeting people and discovering new landscapes. It was a rewarding two-hour experience, especially when actual nomads like Linda May, Bob Wells, and Swankie shared their personal stories with us. Everything about “Nomadland” is so warm and comforting. This is a film I'll remember for sure.

The road is long, but we keep going where our lives take us.

McDormand’s Fern felt deeply human for me unlike many Oscar-winning characters. There was no Oscar-bait grandstanding, only the quiet strength of a woman simply living her everyday life.

The film’s naturalistic mode meant it had to blend professional actress Frances McDormand with many everyday real-life nomads. This quasi-documentary style brought a sense of authenticity that felt almost groundbreaking at the time. I never found McDormand’s presence to be out of place amongst these nomads, and it was a testament to her ability to make that convincing for viewers.

Rewatch

So I’ve just rewatched Nomadland, and unfortunately it just didn’t hit the same for me. Maybe it’s the lack of the awards season hype reinforcing its supposed greatness, or maybe it’s because, in retrospect, it feels more like an moment-specific film for the pandemic era rather than a timeless cinematic achievement. Back then, it was also easy for me to root for Chloé Zhao, a Chinese female director breaking into Hollywood and making history with her Oscar wins. But without that external momentum, the film itself just feels kinda… there?

The quasi-documentary approach which initially felt sincere now comes across as somewhat gimmicky for me too. The nomads and their stories are moving, but Fern’s presence in their world feels strange at times. It sometimes feels like Zhao collected these real and separately distinct experiences and then conveniently used Fern as a loose thread to tie them together.

McDormand is always fantastic, of course, and I’ll always be cheering on. Indeed, her ability to communicate so much with so little dialogue is remarkable, and her scenes with nomads Linda May and Swankie still move me. Apparently, many of the nomads she interacted with in the film weren’t even aware of McDormand’s legendary stature. This is a testament to her acting, but it also makes me wonder if it was necessary for Fern to exist at all. If the heart of the film lies in the nomads, why not just make a documentary about them? Instead, the film funnels their experiences through an Oscar-winning actress delivering their reality in a way that feels earnest, but also if I’m being cynical, performative.

Perhaps Nomadland wants to have its cake and eat it too. It positions itself as an unflinching look at America’s forgotten wanderers but also softens its edges just enough so that it doesn’t actually investigate why they’re being left behind, and Fern’s purpose in this narrative feels like Zhao’s way of opening a path for herself to sidestep when necessary.

McDormand is very good regardless, though as someone who loves to champion subtle and lived-in performances, I feel like I’m betraying my values for not loving this performance more. Ultimately, while I still liked Nomadland, I don’t find it or McDormand’s performance to be as impressive anymore.

The nominees

Who won what:
Golden Globes Best Actress (Drama): Andra Day, The United States vs. Billie Holiday
Golden Globes Best Actress (Comedy/Musical): Rosamund Pike, I Care a Lot
Critics Choice Best Actress: Carey Mulligan, Promising Young Woman
SAG Best Actress: Viola Davis, Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom
BAFTA Best Actress: Frances McDormand, Nomadland
Oscars: Frances McDormand, Nomadland

The 2020 Best Actress race was pure chaos with every major precursor going to a different actress, something that doesn’t happen usually because the attention tends to coalescence around only one or two frontrunners.

With no clear frontrunner in sight, that year became one of the most unpredictable and nerve-racking races to follow. By Oscar night, I remember most predictions leaned toward Carey Mulligan or Viola Davis, while McDormand was largely dismissed because she had won Best Actress three years prior for Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri.

I predicted Davis because I thought her SAG win was important, but my heart was always with Mulligan that season. For context, she’s probably my favorite actress of all time. For me, she just comes across as a humble and sincere actress who’s really here for the work, not the glamor. I love how dedicated she is to her craft, and her style of subtle and grounded acting is exactly what I gravitate toward.

Mulligan’s performance as the vengeful Cassie in Promising Young Woman blew me away. Stepping outside the prestige period dramas she’s often associated with, she played against type and devoured the role completely. Her Cassie is sharp, unpredictable, and so magnetic. I had problems with Emerald Fennell’s writing, and so did many, but the film still worked for me because of how Mulligan played the protagonist so well.

Another performance from 2020 that stayed with me was Sidney Flanigan’s in the indie drama Never Rarely Sometimes Always. It’s an internal performance that doesn’t quite demand attention, but it lingers. She was never really in serious contention, but she deserved more hype.

Conclusion

I initially wrote this section with a more objective tone, but honestly I just have to speak my truth: this should’ve been Carey Mulligan’s Oscar.

I’m biased, but she did take a massive swing in Promising Young Woman and for me, she stuck the landing perfectly. I know Mulligan was the internet’s hot favorite that year, and at this point, her loss has become a meme in itself with the “Here’s how Carey Mulligan can still win the Oscar” jokes. I haven’t moved on though.

McDormand’s third Best Actress Oscar raises the question: should the Oscar always go to the best of that year or should the Academy spread the wealth? In a utopian world, sure, the former is ideal and the best is always rewarded. But what even is best, for art is always subjective? And we all know there are so many other external factors in play, like studio campaigning and actors’ narratives.

Nonetheless, a Best Actress Oscar is still the most coveted award for an actress, and I feel like it could’ve meant so much more to somebody else. Imagine what it would’ve signified for Viola Davis, to be the first Black woman to win two acting Oscars after her Supporting Actress win for Fences in 2016. Or how it could’ve solidified Mulligan as one of the most talented thespians of her generation. Or how it could’ve turned first-time nominees Andra Day or Vanessa Kirby into certified leading lady stars.

But if the Academy genuinely thought McDormand gave the best performance, who am I to argue? She was wonderful in Nomadland, and part of me loves how, unlike her fellow nominees, she completely didn’t care about campaigning that year, yet she’s the one who pulled it off. That’s some queen shit.

So yeah, on the other hand, I kinda get it.

Do you think Frances McDormand deserved the Oscar for Nomadland?

Ranking so far…

1. Michelle Yeoh, Everything Everywhere All at Once

2. Emma Stone, Poor Things

3. Frances McDormand, Nomadland

4. Jessica Chastain, The Eyes of Tammy Faye

Up next

For 2019, we’ll be discussing Judy, the Judy Garland biopic that earned Renée Zellweger her second Oscar. This will be the first film in this series that I’m watching for the first time, and as I dive deeper into older winners, that’ll become the norm. I’m curious to see how this approach might be different.

Also, as we all know, Mikey Madison edged out frontrunner Demi Moore and took home the Best Actress Oscar last month. It still feels too soon to dive into that just yet, so I’ll give it a few more months before revisiting Anora and Madison’s win with some distance.

Thank you for reading!

It’s this dexterity that made her one of the most compelling pop stars of our time, but also one of the most elusive. Longtime fans who fell in love with The Fame era Gaga of club anthems and excessive theatrics have long clamored for “old Gaga” to return. But Gaga has never been one to stay in one place for too long, and she has always been more than just a pop star.

She confessed she was singing jazz before her pop days, and she also claimed that she wanted to be an actor more than a singer. These statements seem difficult to reconcile for many Little Monsters, for her dance-pop persona has always felt like her truest self, and that Gaga is always destined to be a major pop star in every timeline.

So here comes MAYHEM, an album that feels like Gaga's most confident attempt to reintegrate her fractured identities. With years of flirtations with jazz, country, and rock music, high-profile successes and flops in cinema, and even an upcoming supporting role in the second season of Wednesday alongside Jenna Ortega, Gaga is approaching her career from a much different vantage point now.

Much like the themes of dual selves in the recent Oscar-winning film The Substance, MAYHEM is marked by a constant negotiation between two selves—“Gaga,” her artistic persona, and “Stefani,” the person behind all the spectacle and grandeur. Is there a way to respect the balance and let both shine, or would that only serve to neuter either, or even both, selves? What happens when fans can’t stop demanding the return of “old Gaga,” and how does Stefani fulfill that demand without sacrificing her artistic integrity?

In my opinion, Gaga has achieved a remarkable synthesis of Gaga and Stefani on MAYHEM, creating a cohesive body of work that is both a nod to her early pop days and an affirmation of her growth as an artist.

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Gaga

It’s impossible to grasp the seismic phenomenon that was Lady Gaga circa 2009 unless you experienced it firsthand. With The Fame and its darker counterpart The Fame Monster, she changed celebrity culture and cemented herself as a mainstay in pop music. Iconic Gaga moments of that era were aplenty—bleeding on stage, wearing a coat full of Kermit the Frog dolls, and receiving awards whilst draped in raw meat.

This was the Gaga her fans first fell in love with—unapologetic, entertaining, and fiercely dedicated to her artistic vision. Sure, she was a bona fide hit-making machine (cue “Poker Face,” “Bad Romance,” “Just Dance,” “Paparazzi,” “Telephone”… you get the drill), but she was also simultaneously creating a whole universe beyond the music. She cultivated an army behind her: her beloved Little Monsters who were drawn to her fearlessness and empowerment. With a shared sense of rebellion between her and her fans, Gaga became the pioneer of the modern pop fandom. She weaponized the internet to forge a new type of undying paw-raising loyalty that would later be traced in K-pop fans, Directioners, and more.

Her 2011 album Born This Way further solidified her status as an icon of the misfits, with empowering anthems like “Hair,” “Marry the Night,” and the title track as love letters to underrepresented identities, particularly the LGBTQ community.

As Gaga ascended to global superstardom, the weight of fame inevitably began to take its toll on her. The first sign appeared in early 2013, when a broken hip forced her to cancel over 20 shows of her Born This Way Ball Tour. Then, her album ARTPOP was released later that year, but not without controversy. The media pitted her against Katy Perry, and Perry’s PRISM being the commercial juggernaut that it was meant Gaga was the “loser” of that rivalry. The public, once enamored with her theatrics, began to grow weary, labeling her as “too much.” And so began the journey of Gaga forging new paths for herself.

Stefani

In 2014, Gaga dropped a joint jazz album with Tony Bennett, presenting a starkly different version than her pop persona. Following this rebrand, she landed a gig to perform a The Sound of Music medley at the 2015 Oscars, and later released her 2016 album Joanne, an eclectic mix of country, rock, and Americana-leaning tracks. Beyond music, Gaga also found another dimension of artistic expression in acting, starring in the TV show American Horror Story: Hotel and the film A Star in Born.

I see these works as passion projects not for Lady Gaga, but for Stefani Germanotta. They served as outlets for creative expression for the person she was pre-fame (pun intended). Amidst chaos, she retreated inward and connected with the music she had loved as the New York City girl with big dreams. Embracing acting also allowed her to explore storytelling as another form of self-expression.

Despite these Stefani endeavors, the echoes of Gaga never fully faded. Her fans still craved pop star Gaga, and in 2020, she released Chromatica, a supposed return to her dance-pop brilliance. But Chromatica arrived at an awkward timing, dropping in the midst of a pandemic and Black Lives Matter protests in the United States. Personally, I found the album to be rather half-baked too, and ultimately a superficial attempt at a pop comeback.

Monstro StefaniGaga

“There have been times in my career where I had a conceptual vision first, and the music followed. But with this album, the pieces just started falling together. I didn’t want to force anything—I wanted to follow the music. And by doing that, it started to remind me of my earlier work.”

- Lady Gaga on MAYHEM

With MAYHEM, Gaga has unleashed a whole new beast upon her fans, creating a musical experience that feels both familiar and new at once. It’s not a project that’s reverse-engineered to evoke Gaga of her glory days and bank on nostalgia to appease fans, but something that feels true to the spirit of both Gaga and Stefani.

Though comparisons to Madonna have followed her throughout Gaga’s career—once much to the former’s annoyance—MAYHEM makes it clear that Gaga’s influences stretch beyond female pop predecessors. The album revels in gritty pop soundscapes influenced by the likes of David Bowie, Prince, Nine Inch Nails, and Chic.

Tracks like “Perfect Celebrity” ride on the same synth-pop brilliance emblematic of pop Gaga but with a darker undercurrent. Lyrically, it’s an interrogation of the very fame she once chased so passionately. “Find my clone, she’s asleep on the ceiling,” she sings, referring to the Stefani-Gaga tension inside of her. “[When] I’m in a room with anyone, there’s me, Stefani, and Lady Gaga sleeping on the ceiling and I have to figure out which body to be in,” she explains in her interview with Zane Lowe.

“You love to hate me, I’m the perfect celebrity,” she snarls in the song’s grunge-inspired chorus. She’s calling out the public’s fickle relationship with celebrities and the cycle of idolization and backlash, yet it also feels personal. It’s Stefani singing to Gaga, confronting the artistic persona she has created that has both empowered and consumed her over the years.

On “Don’t Call Tonight,” she describes a similarly toxic relationship. “You pull me close and knock me down, then I beg to come back around,” she sings, painting a push-pull dynamic that fits this Stefani vs. Gaga narrative once again.

But MAYHEM isn’t about submitting to these psychological battles in her mind, it’s also about reconciliation and learning to exist in the fractures rather than trying to futilely mend them. Nostalgia-tinged power ballads like “Vanish into You” and “Blade of Grass” harken back to pre-debut Stefani, the determined New York girl singing on her piano every night with all her heart and might. “Vanish into You,” in particular, is a career highlight. She sings about an undying bond between two entities: some say it’s in memory of the late Tony Bennett, some think it’s for her fiancé Michael Polansky, but it might as well be about her fans, or maybe… Stefani and Gaga.

Then there’s “Abracadabra,” perhaps the most outstanding example on the album of Gaga “reheating her nachos” successfully, a term the internet has coined for reviving old musical ideas. “I would say that my nachos are mine, and I invented them,” Gaga declares when asked of the meme.

Gaga describes MAYHEM as a project born from fear, specifically the fear of returning to the pop music that defined her earlier career. She likened the process to “reassembling a shattered mirror,” where “even if you can’t put the pieces back exactly as they were, you can still create something beautiful and whole in a new way.” And therein lies the heart of MAYHEM—it isn’t a nostalgia excavation of Gaga nor is it Stefani trying to rid herself of her past, but a defiant and lawless clash of both Gaga and Stefani, even if they are at odds.

Truly, there is no trusted formula for merging these two selves into one. And yet, after nearly two decades of performing as Lady Gaga, this might be the moment where Stefani has never felt more confident to be her. She is happier now and ready to starting a family with her fiancé, and in this stability, she has learned to embrace the darkness that has followed her.

“Your demons are with you in the beginning and they are with you in the end, and I don’t mean it in a bleak way. Maybe we can make friends sooner with this reality instead of running all the time,” she explains of this “radical acceptance” she found while making MAYHEM. And that’s exactly why MAYHEM works so well. It doesn’t resist contradictions but thrives on the tension between them, reveling in the chaos where looking back and looking ahead collide.

And in that mayhem, a beast emerges. Monstro StefaniGaga is her name :)

Stream MAYHEM!

As we speak, Lola Young is already having her moment—her song “Messy” is currently dominating the charts, while her feature on the Tyler the Creator track “Like Him” is picking up steam too.

Predicting the next pop sensation in today’s music scene is impossible. Sure, a viral TikTok trend can instantly change an artist’s trajectory, but behind each overnight success are many arduous years of perfecting one’s craft. There’s really no formula for success, but I’m keeping an eye on artists rapidly cultivating an online following and landing important gigs like festivals or as openers of major concert tours this year. And of course, artists with music that have caught my attention.

Here’s my list of 7 artists to watch in 2025!

Rachel Chinouriri

I’m back on my Rachel Chinouriri agenda. Yes, I absolutely enjoyed her debut album What a Devastating Turn of Events last year, but I have a good feeling about her blowing up this year. She’s currently opening for Sabrina Carpenter on the European leg of the Short n’ Sweet Tour and I’m sure she’s gaining new fans every night, just like Carpenter did when she was the opener on the Eras Tour.

Chinouriri knows it’s her time to strike now and she’s making the most of it. She has already dropped a brand new song “Can we talk about Isaac?”, a breezy indie rock track just in time for her new stint. And when Carpenter’s European tour wraps in April, Chinouriri has a new EP ready to go. Chinouriri’s blend of introspective singer-songwriter edge infused with anthemic British rock has been well received so far, and she’s quickly amassing goodwill with each new release. It’s a promising start to her 2025 so far, and I’m keeping my fingers crossed for her.

Ravyn Lenae

Ravyn Lenae has been grinding for years now, but 2025 might just be the year she finally sees her big break. The American R&B singer opened for SZA on the CTRL tour back in 2017, released a couple EPs, earned critical acclaim with her 2022 debut Hypnos, and kept the momentum going with her sophomore album Bird’s Eye last year. Her infectious lead single “Love Me Not” has been doing its job of spreading the gospel of Lenae, and I’m placing bets on the groovy R&B bop becoming a huge smash this year.

Lenae is also a fellow Short n’ Sweet Tour opener; she’ll join Carpenter in the fall for the tour’s North American leg. But her rise could begin even before that—Lenae is performing at Cochella this April, and it feels like the right stage to launch her to stardom.

Chloe Qisha

While she hasn’t released a full album yet, Malaysian-born and UK-based artist Chloe Qisha already has the makings of a bona fide pop star. A self-described pop girlie “out of the womb,” she is a student of pop through and through. A listen through her sparse but growing discography reveals her keen understanding of brand-building in pop music, with each release being a carefully curated addition to her ever-evolving mood board.

It also helps that Qisha’s bright singing voice just feels so tailor-made for radio. There’s certainly a noticeable it girl quality in Qisha—her assured confidence, but more importantly, her ambition. “I want to show people I’m a master of all pop, and I want it to be pushing the envelope,” she says.

Qisha has already caught the attention of Kelly Clarkson, who covered her song “I Lied, I’m Sorry” on her Kellyoke. This is just the beginning, I reckon.

ROLE MODEL

In certain niche corners of the internet, Tucker Pillsbury—better known as ROLE MODEL—is already a star. Whether it’s his past relationship with influencer Emma Chamberlain or his babygirl boy-next-door image, he has built up a loyal fanbase over the years.

But 2025 is shaping up to be his biggest year yet. He’s already an opening act for Gracie Abrams’s The Secret of Us Tour, and his latest indie pop single, “Sally, When The Wine Runs Out,” is currently making waves on the internet.

Beyond just the music, ROLE MODEL has mastered the art of fan engagement on social media. His alternate TikTok account @saintlaurentcowboy boasts nearly half a million followers, where he shares candid and off-the-cuff snippets of his life. I reckon his ability to assemble this level of fan connection will surely pay off in the long run.

Olivia Dean

At this point, it seems safe to bet on a Sabrina Carpenter opener, and Olivia Dean is yet another one that’s firmly on my radar. She will be joining Carpenter on tour later this year, but the English singer-songwriter is already off to a good start to 2025 already, landing a track on the new Bridget Jones sequel film—‘It Isn’t Perfect But It Might Be.”

With her soulful voice and a relatable Gen Z energy in her songwriting, Dean has the potential to move a lot of young listeners with her music.

sombr

Admittedly, I first discovered sombr through his collaboration with Rachel Chinouriri, but I do see a lot of potential in the indie singer-songwriter. He’s another one who’s still crafting his artistic identity, dropping singles in a steady fashion that would hopefully culminate in a full-length album this year.

sombr’s hazy and melancholic vibe is perfect for late night overthinking and the most gut-wrenching TikTok fan edits you’ll ever see. He exudes that exact sad boy charm that will surely make fangirls swoon, and it feels like only a matter of time before he cements himself as internet’s favorite sad boy.

Sarah Kinsley

Sarah Kinsley’s alternative sensibilities suggest she’s the type of artist who’ll remain no bigger than an indie underdog, but in today’s unpredictable music landscape, who really knows?

What’s undeniable is her striking and bold voice that immediately sets her apart from most artists. There’s a richness to her voice that feels both grand and intimate, and in her anthem “The King,” you can really feel the weight of her words so strongly as she sings with such stirring conviction.

Fun fact: Kingsley spent her teenage years in Singapore and cites Lorde’s Melodrama as a major artistic inspiration. Maybe that’s why I’m already so biased.

Here’s a playlist to get you acquainted with these artists!

Welcome back to another post of my Best Actress Challenge series, where I review every Best Actress winner at the Oscars.

It’s time to talk about Jessica Chastain’s 2021 win for The Eyes of Tammy Faye, a biopic about the larger-than-life Christian televangelist Tammy Faye, directed by Michael Showalter.

First impression

I’ll be honest… I had zero interest in this film at first. Sure, I like Jessica Chastain as an actress, but I didn’t know who Tammy Faye was nor did I care much about watching a film about American evangelism. But of course, as Oscars buzz started to build for Chastain that season, I caved.

To be fair, The Eyes of Tammy Faye is a serviceable film that accomplishes its primary goal: telling Tammy’s story. It certainly isn’t a bad film by any means, but it didn’t wow me either. Such is the case for most cradle-to-grave biopics, they often hit predictable beats running through the ups and downs of their subject’s life, and this film was no exception.

By the time the credits rolled, I knew I’ll forget about the film soon enough. I even naively declared that Chastain wouldn’t win an Oscar for it, simply because the film was so middling and I didn’t think it’ll leave a strong impression with the Academy.

This was my misguided review when I first watched it:

“Jessica sweetie I love you and you were amazing in this as always, but I don’t think this is getting you an Oscar...”

Boy, did I underestimate Chastain in the Best Actress race that year.

Rewatch

Revisiting this film was such an interesting experience because I had forgotten almost everything about it. I even forgot that Andrew Garfield (what a banner year he had in 2021 between this, his Oscar-nominated tick, tick… BOOM!, and Spider Man: No Way Home) was in this as Tammy’s deadbeat husband, Jim Bakker.

One of the film’s early scenes features a young Tammy speaking in tongues as she discovers God. I’m not sure if it was meant to be funny—on paper it’s a pivotal moment that sets Tammy on the path to televangelist stardom—but the sheer theatricality of it all makes it impossible not to chuckle. It’s high camp, though at least that tracks with Tammy’s over-the-top personality.

Chastain fully embraces Tammy’s exaggerated persona, throwing herself onto the role with fearlessness. She dances, she cries, and she breaks out into song, all while buried under layers of makeup and prosthetics to resemble Tammy. There’s even a scene where Tammy explains her trademark permanent eyelashes look: “If I take that away, then it’s not me.”

Chastain’s performance is definitely loud and dramatic. I didn’t fully grasp it before, but I realize now that this is soooo awards bait 101.

But here’s the thing: it’s just not the kind of performance I appreciate. I genuinely admire Chastain; she was great in her subtle turns in films like The Good Nurse and Memory, and even in The Help, where she played the effervescent Celia Foote, she balanced Celia’s energy with just enough restraint to make her endearing rather than overbearing.

Her Tammy, on the other hand, leans into caricature at times. I felt for her in her arguments with Jim, but throughout most of the film, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was watching Chastain actively putting on a show for us. It’s tricky, I know, as Tammy herself was indeed a larger-than-life figure with her quirks, but the exaggerated inflections can be off-putting at times.

It didn’t help that Andrew Garfield cranked up the dial in his Jim too; his performance perhaps even more cartoonish than Chastain’s. When the film zeroes in on their disintegrating marriage, their explosive fights teeter on the edge of parody.

Still, there’s no denying Chastain’s raw talent and versatility as an actress, so I’m thrilled that she finally has an Oscar.

The nominees

Who won what:
Golden Globes Best Actress (Drama): Nicole Kidman, Being the Ricardos
Golden Globes Best Actress (Comedy/Musical): Rachel Zegler, West Side Story
Critics Choice Best Actress: Jessica Chastain, The Eyes of Tammy Faye
SAG Best Actress: Jessica Chastain, The Eyes of Tammy Faye
BAFTA Best Actress: Joanna Scanlan, After Love
Oscars: Jessica Chastain, The Eyes of Tammy Faye

Looking back, this was a weak year for the Best Actress race. None of the actresses starred in Best Picture nominees, thus there was no built-in momentum for anyone the same way Michelle Yeoh and Emma Stone had a boost from their well-received films.

I remember following this race in real time, watching keenly as the frontrunner changed practically every week. Kristen Stewart held onto that title for a long while, but she began missing key nominations once the precursors came along. Her film Spencer was unfortunately a tough sell for the Academy—though it’s a Princess Diana biopic, it’s also a Pablo Larraín film, meaning that it was far from the traditional crowd-pleasing biopic voters might have expected.

The Globes weren’t televised that year due to an industry boycott over the lack of Black representation in its voting body. Their winners—Nicole Kidman for Being the Ricardos and Rachel Zegler for West Side Story—briefly convinced some that they could ride that momentum to an Oscar. But the Globes’ impact was muted that year and it didn’t translate into winning heat, though Kidman still managed to secure a nomination in the end.

Then for a moment, Lady Gaga was gaining serious momentum with House of Gucci (yet another mediocre biopic that year!). She was the only actress to score nominations across all four major precursors, making her Oscar snub all the more shocking on nominations morning.

It was the kind of chaotic and unpredictable year where anything felt possible. In the end, the wide open field gave Chastain just enough wiggle room to slide in and win the elusive golden statue.

Personally, my favorite performances that year were Renate Reinsve in The Worst Person in the World and Tessa Thompson in Passing. Both delivered such delicate performances that spoke to me deeply—Reinsve capturing the restless spirit of modern individualism, and Thompson bringing layered complexity to her film Passing, an adaptation of the classic American novel that I loved from my American literature class. Good old days!

Both Reinsve and Thompson at least got some recognition at BAFTA, but honestly they were never truly in the race. The Academy will always find a place for big names in mediocre Oscar bait films. Such is the way of awards season…

Conclusion

With all that said, I guess I’m fine with Chastain winning Best Actress that year. It wasn’t my pick, but it wasn’t an egregious win either. If I had to choose from the nominees, I’d probably go with Colman or Stewart.

Olivia Colman is easily one of my favorite actresses working today, and her performance in The Lost Daughter is so sublime. I don’t even love the film that much (the screenplay left me cold) but Colman’s portrayal of Leda, with all her thorny complexity, completely sold it for me. It’s such an alienating film, but Colman worked her ass off to keep me engaged. Also, her Oscar clip is iconic and one of my all-time favorites!

As for Kristen Stewart, while I adore Spencer, my love for it was more for Pablo Larraín’s direction and the way he crafted such an unsettling and claustrophobic take on Diana’s life. Stewart was very good, but I wasn’t wholeheartedly rallying behind her for the win, but still happy for her first Oscar nomination especially after how the internet was so vicious to her during her Twilight days. I love a good redemption arc!

And there you have it. Sometimes, in years like this where none of the contenders were particularly strong, someone like Chastain could just go all the way. A career win for an actress who worked hard to build a solid resume, if you will.

Chastain certainly has a reputation for being an industrious thespian who’s all about the work. Her work ethic is so well-known that she’s even earned the nickname “Lady Model Worker” in China. She’s respected by her peers and so eloquent in explaining her craft, it just makes sense that the industry support eventually coalesced around her.

Do you think Jessica Chastain deserved the Oscar for The Eyes of Tammy Faye?

Ranking so far…

1. Michelle Yeoh, Everything Everywhere All at Once

2. Emma Stone, Poor Things

3. Jessica Chastain, The Eyes of Tammy Faye

Up next

For 2020, we’ll be revisiting Frances McDormand’s win for the Best Picture winner Nomadland, a film that not only won her a third Best Actress Oscar but another one for producing the film.

Excited to rewatch this one!

“I had just written my, like, proper 13-song—you know, through the label, A&R—record. And then I very quietly was obviously going through a very big life change,” she said.

Ballerini was referring to her fourth album SUBJECT TO CHANGE—a fairly optimistic and upbeat country-pop record released in 2022, just as her five-year relationship was falling apart. Amidst the album cycle, she found herself grappling with more pressing matters and turned to songwriting as an outlet.

The result was Rolling Up the Welcome Mat, a confessional EP that allowed her to speak her truth and processed her heartbreak in real time. The divorce was both a personal and artistic liberation for Ballerini, freeing her not just from the broken marriage, but from the rigidity of the industry’s standards of needing radio-friendly singles and meticulously planned promotional rollouts.

“I made this record really selfishly, like truly for myself, and didn’t worry about where the songs would fit or if they would work in X, Y and Z,” she added. And perhaps because of that, Welcome Mat and its circumstantial surprise release has become her most beloved work to date.

To accompany the EP, Ballerini wrote and directed a short film split into six chapters, one for each song. From breaking plates and taking off rings to the symbolic welcome mat itself, the film offers a glimpse into the unraveling of her marriage and stands as a visual companion piece to the EP itself.

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The tracks

The EP opens with “Mountain with a View,” where Ballerini confronts a quiet truth she can no longer ignore: she has outgrown her relationship with Evans. “It’s 7 a.m. and I’m on a mountain with a view,” she sings, before painting a vivid image of her in a penthouse, all alone and wondering if he even misses her at all.

The short film mirrors the lyrics narratively, depicting Ballerini in a large apartment while lost in contemplation. Then comes the chorus which lands the most scathing blow: “I realize you loved me much more at 23, I think that this is when it’s over for me.”

The next track “Just Married” is my personal favorite of the EP. The song’s conceit hinges on a brilliantly executed pun that transforms the titular phrase of joy into something tragic. Of course, “just married” represents the fresh start of a lifelong love story for newlyweds. But for Ballerini, it becomes an elegy for a love that has burned out when she sings the line “it was love, then it was just married.” In a single devastating line, she perfectly captures the fatal erosion of a couple’s bond, when marriage is no longer about love but mere obligation and routine.

Next, we have the piano ballad “Penthouse,” a song that has taken on a life of its own, between becoming a fan favorite and now being Ballerini’s favorite song to sing with her fans at live shows. “When I sing “Penthouse,” it’s a guttural moment with every woman in the room relating to some heartbreak,” she said. It’s her “All Too Well,” if you will.

Indeed, “Penthouse” is very much the emotional highlight of the record. Thematically, it explores the contrast between a house as a physical space and a home as an emotional sanctuary. “We were playing home in a penthouse, baby,” Ballerini sings, encapsulating the dissonance that has formed in their bond. Their relationship may have looked picture perfect from the outside, but unbeknownst to the public, it was crumbling from within.

A 46-second “Interlude” follows, offering a brief but striking departure from the EP’s slower mood. Over an R&B-inspired beat, Ballerini delivers rap-like lines in a way that feels defiant. The track serves as a meta-commentary on the media frenzy surrounding her divorce. “Ain’t it like this town to only criticize a woman?” she sings. In many ways, the song, and the EP as a whole, represent Ballerini’s desire to reclaim the narrative, especially since Evans was the first to release music about their divorce with his song “Over For You.”

We move onto “Blindsided” next. In “Over for You,” Evans claimed he was blindsided by the breakup, so Ballerini fires back with a pointed question: “Were you blindsided, or were you just blind?” It’s the most reactive track on the EP, laced with frustration and blunt honesty. Unlike the quieter devastation of the other songs, “Blindsided” reveals the years of pent-up resentment Ballerini must’ve had, as she calls out the stark disconnect between their individual experiences.

The EP closes with “Leave Me Again,” a folky farewell to her ex-husband and a poignant spin of attention back to herself. If Ballerini has been tracing the five stages of grief throughout the EP, this track has to be acceptance.

“Leave Me Again” isn’t about the heartbreak anymore, but about how Ballerini wants to leave this saga behind her. She turns the focus inward and makes a promise to herself. “I hope I never leave me again,” she sings, suggesting that she might not have stood up for herself enough in the relationship. “At the end of the day, it is such a disservice and a dishonoring of yourself if you know something is not right and you stay,” she shared in an interview.

She leaves Evans with a bittersweet parting message in the EP’s final moment: “I hope that you get the house, and the good wife, and the kids.” It’s a nod to their irreconcilable differences: Evans was eager to start a family, but Ballerini wasn’t ready.

The power of heartbreak

Since her breakthrough in 2015, Kelsea Ballerini has been one of the golden girls of country music. While Nashville has never been generous in letting women through its gates, Ballerini was one of the few who was allowed entry. Surely, she has all the makings of America’s next sweetheart—blonde, pretty, and a wholesome image.

It’s no surprise that Ballerini has been hailed as the next Taylor Swift since her debut. It’s unfortunate for a new artist to be associated with a more established act this way, but I see the similarities: they’re both all-American blonde girls who sing country pop songs. Ballerini herself has acknowledged Swift as a huge influence in her artistry, and the two have become friends as well.

Personally, while I enjoy a couple of Ballerini’s earlier radio hits, I find her work to be rather safe and lacking in that affecting conviction I love in country songwriting, especially if we compare her to Swift who steadily sharpened her craft from her debut up to Red.

But all that changed for Ballerini with Welcome Mat.

Heartbreak has long been the catalyst for great artistry across different mediums. For Ballerini, it helped unlock a level of precision in her pen that she had never quite tapped into before. The songs of Welcome Mat are sparsely produced, but it’s Ballerini’s honest lyricism and and sincere delivery that makes it come alive and feel like an project that’s whole. She even made a short film to accompany the EP and tell her story fully.

Sure, fans who know the lore might appreciate the added context, like how the line “I think that this is when it’s over for me” is a direct response to “How long has it been over for you?” from Evans’s “Over for You”. But I don’t think it’s really necessary for one to feel the emotional weight of this record. The music speaks for itself.

In the deluxe version of the EP released in August 2023 titled Rolling Up the Welcome Mat (For Good), Ballerini tweaked some lyrics to reflect her change in perspective. “Penthouse” became “Penthouse (Healed Version),” with updated lyric just like how she sings the song live now: “I don’t care where you’re sleeping, baby,” amended from the previous “I don’t know.”

She also added “How Do I Do This,” a new track chronicling her first date after divorce. These revisions signal a sense of closure, and Ballerini makes it clear that she had indeed moved on. When the deluxe EP dropped, she urged fans on social media: “I ask that you help this be ours and let the music simply be the music, not dig back into the experience that it was written about nearly a year ago.”

And really, there’s no better way to close out a chapter than to go back to where we’ve once started. In “Mountain With A View,” it was 7 a.m. as she mourned the imminent death of her relationship in her big empty apartment. Now, in “How Do I Do This,” she waits in nervous excitement for her new date, and as the clock strikes 7, she’s ready to step out of her house again and start afresh.

Welcome Mat is proof that heartbreak is the songwriter’s greatest muse. It’s a well that never runs dry, and the one constant that can always be mined for something profound and universal regardless of one’s circumstances. Of course, Ballerini is happily in love now with Outer Banks actor Chase Stokes, far removed from the pain that shaped this record. But if she never makes something as impactful as Welcome Mat again, that’s fine. The pain may be gone, but the stories live on.

Stream Rolling Up the Welcome Mat!

January was LOOOONNNNGG as hell for me. Let’s get into it.

Severance is back

I’ve been impatiently waiting for years and it’s FINALLY here. Apple TV+’s psychological thriller series Severance is back for a second season! Due to the strikes and alleged behind-the-scenes conflict, it’s been almost three years since the first season aired in 2022.

If you’re still not watching Severance by now, I fear you’re missing out…

I’m glad to see Apple’s marketing team step up this season too. You might’ve seen their latest stunt making waves on social media, where the cast made a surprise appearance at a makeshift office in New York City’s Grand Central Terminal, fully in character. I can feel the buzz for Severance growing around me each day, and I love seeing more people get pulled into our weekly ritual.

Season 1 completely gripped me with its unsettling mystery, and I can’t wait to uncover more secrets of Lumon this season!

Golden Globes and Oscars nominations

We’ve also had our first major event for this awards season. Thankfully, the host is much better host this time… Nikki Glaser’s wit and charisma completely buried last year’s Jo Koy and his terrible one-liners. I’d love to see her take on the Globes again next year.

As for the winners, the biggest moment for me was Demi Moore taking home Best Actress (Musical/Comedy) for The Substance.

I’ve been doing this a long time, like, over 45 years, and this is the first time I’ve ever won anything as an actor…Thirty years ago I had a producer tell me that I was a popcorn actress, and at that time I made that mean that this is not something I was allowed to have…That corroded me over time, to the point where I thought a few years ago that maybe this was it, maybe I was complete, maybe I had done what I was supposed to do.

In those moments when we don’t think we are smart enough or pretty enough or skinny enough or successful enough, or basically just not enough, I had a woman say to me, ‘Just know you will never be enough, but you can know the value of your worth if you just put down the measuring stick.’ So today I celebrate this as a marker of my wholeness and of the love that is driving me, and the gift of doing something I love and being reminded that I do belong.

Her heartfelt speech went viral, and rightfully so, and now she’s on a direct path to the Oscars. Fingers crossed!

Meanwhile, Emilia Pérez won Best Film (Musical/Comedy) and immediately became this season’s villain. I have no idea how to describe the film but let me try: a crime musical set in Mexico about a trans cartel boss who repents in the process of transitioning into a woman, made by a French director. The film industry seems to love it, but all I’ve seen is negative reviews online, especially from many Mexicans and the trans people who find the depiction of their community problematic.

Then came the Oscar nominations… Demi Moore got her expected nomination, we got some snubs as usual, and somehow Emilia Pérez racked up 13 nominations?! Just thinking about it gives me a headache.

That’s not all; the discourse has spiraled into an even uglier shitstorm this week when racist and xenophobic tweets from the film’s lead actress Karla Sofía Gascón were resurfaced. Good grief.

New music

After the holiday freeze, the music industry is finally heating up again. This month brought major new albums from FKA Twigs, Bad Bunny, and The Weeknd, while Lady Gaga revealed that her new album MAYHEM drops March 7. Mark your calendars.

I’ve also had JADE’s latest single “IT Girl” on repeat. Ever since she came swinging with her debut single “Angel of My Dreams” last year, I’ve been intrigued with her solo career, especially with the exploration of the double-edged nature of celebrity that seems to be a recurring theme in her solo music. Definitely keeping an eye out for her.

A Story For Another Day!

Leave The Pop Stars Alone

“Well, that’s just showbiz, baby!” That line is from the pop anthem “IT girl” by rising pop star JADE. Stemming from the former UK girl group Little Mix, Jade Thirwall is no stranger to the drama within the music industry and the public’s perception of her and other pop stars. Now that she’s commencing her solo venture after all the other members of the…

Read more

2 years ago · 6 likes · Nathan

Best Actress Challenge

As promised, I started on a Best Actress Challenge where I take a week to ruminate on a Best Actress winner starting with our most recent recipient Emma Stone, from rewatching the film itself to analyzing the awards race that year.

Evidently, I’ve been lagging behind a bit, but hopefully I’ll pick up the pace once this turns into a habit. I’ve had a couple new subscribers from this, and I’m really heartened that people are keen to follow my journey.

Also, I realized that I’ll be rewatching La La Land with a live orchestra in March (conducted by composer Justin Hurwitz!), so the 2016 piece on Stone’s win for La La Land is gonna be extra fun. So excited!

January, curated.

Everything else to pique your interest, non-paywalled links provided

ARTICLES

1. The 250 Greatest Albums of the 21st Century So Far (Rolling Stone)

2. Steven Spielberg, Nicolas Cage, Naomi Watts Remember David Lynch: ‘Brave, Brilliant, and a Maverick’ (Rolling Stone)

3. We’re Lucky to Have Been Alive in the Age of David Lynch (Time)

4. Bad Bunny: DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS Album Review (Pitchfork)

5. Bad Bunny’s ‘DtMF’ Transcends Language (The Cut)

6. FKA Twigs: EUSEXUA Album Review (Pitchfork)

7. Carrie Underwood Is ‘Looking to the Future’ With Inauguration — Her LGBTQ+ Fans See a Scarier One (Rolling Stone)

8. Why Is Emilia Pérez Controversial? A Timeline (Vulture)

9. Journalist Who Uncovered Karla Sofía Gascón’s Racist Tweets Explains Why She Looked for Them: ‘I’m Not a Studio Plant’ (Variety)

10. The Brutalist AI backlash, explained (Mashable)

11. How Greta Gerwig and IMAX Got Netflix to Flinch on Narnia Release (Indiewire)

12. Blake Lively, Justin Baldoni, and the Collapse of the Hollywood #MeToo Era (The New Yorker)

VIDEOS

1. Doechii - DENIAL IS A RIVER (Music video)

2. THE SUBSTANCE | In Conversation with Demi Moore & "Charlie's Angels" (Interview by MUBI)

3. THE 25 BEST FILMS OF 2024: A Video Countdown (Compilation edit by David Ehrlich)

4. Performing Authenticity: The Cinema of Lady Gaga (Video essay by Be Kind Rewind)

And that’s all from me for now. Gotta go!

Welcome back to the second post of my Best Actress Challenge series, where I review every Best Actress winner at the Oscars.

I kicked things off with Emma Stone’s recent win for Poor Things previously, and today we’re diving into Michelle Yeoh’s historic win for her portrayal of Evelyn Wang in the absurdist comedy Everything Everywhere All at Once, directed by Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert.

First impression

Growing up in Singapore, Michelle Yeoh has always been a familiar presence. Even before I started paying close attention to cinema, I remember seeing her regularly on my TV screen as a kid, especially this one Anlene commercial that no Singaporean could escape.

Of course, I later discovered that Yeoh is an icon of ‘80s and ‘90s Hong Kong cinema, best known for her stunt work in martial arts films and for holding her own alongside Jackie Chan.

Yeoh had her big break internationally in 1997 as a Bond girl in Tomorrow Never Dies. In 2000, she led Ang Lee’s Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon to global success, including 10 Oscar nominations and a BAFTA Best Actress nomination for herself. She continued working steadily between the East and West and later regained prominence in Hollywood with supporting roles in Crazy Rich Asians and Marvel’s Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings.

And then came Everything Everywhere All at Once.

From the trailer alone, it was clear how ambitious this film was, from the bold multiverse premise to the highly stylized visuals. With indie powerhouse A24 at the helm, I was looking forward to something inventive and original, and the film surely exceeded my expectations.

Between the wacky action sequences, the vibrant colors, and the fast cuts, the film left me completely overstimulated in the best way possible. It was simply bonkers in a way that I was not prepared for, and I loved every second of its craziness.

Here’s my Letterboxd review back in April 2022:

“A spiritual experience and so much more. I've never seen anything like this film and I don't think I ever will. Thank you cinema.”

It didn’t take long for EEAAO to become a word-of-mouth sensation, and I knew I had to do my part to spread the gospel. I even watched it for a second time in the theaters that June. As the film grew organically, I soon found myself scouring every corner of the internet to find personal anecdotes from people who connected with the film in their own ways.

I was in awe of how the film transforms into whatever the viewer needs it to be—an ode to the immigrant experience, a family drama grappling with generational trauma, a rebellion against nihilism, or a queer empowerment story. There’s something for everyone to take away from, and that in itself, is an amazing feat.

If you were part of the EEAAO hive back in 2022, you would’ve come across memes like these. Sure, it might seem like entry-level philosophy to some, but for someone like me who was struggling to make sense of the mess that is life, it spoke to me and helped reshape the way I perceived existence and mortality.

It sounds ridiculous, but truly, so many of the worries we carry are just arbitrary obstacles living in our minds because we’ve chosen to give them meaning. And sometimes, all it takes is a film like this to come along and remind us that…*drum roll*…nothing matters.

Of course, I was all in on Michelle Yeoh receiving her flowers and getting awards recognition from Hollywood, but it sure felt like a pipe dream at first. Oscar buzz for a film as crazy as this? Too good to be true.

But then to see it actually materialize, with not just Yeoh winning Best Actress, but the film sweeping several major awards—Picture, Director, Supporting Actor, Supporting Actress, and Original Screenplay—is still so mind-blowing till this day.

Rewatch

When a film becomes a cultural juggernaut like EEAAO did, backlash is inevitable. You don’t win seven Oscars without detractors yapping on about how the film didn’t deserve the hype. Heading into my third watch last week, I was curious: Does it still hold up? Or has the magic faded?

This time, I focused my attention on Yeoh’s Evelyn, using her as an anchor to navigate the multiversal mayhem. Evelyn is a perfectly ordinary everywoman—overworked, disillusioned, and utterly consumed by the relentless grind of life. A huge responsibility suddenly falls on her shoulders, and Yeoh plays up the absurdity of the situation very well by having Evelyn be the foil to the goofiness of her husband Waymond, the strong-willed Alpha Waymond, or the campiness of Jobu Tupaki.

Yeoh’s comedic timing is impeccable, especially the way she delivers sighs of “aiyos” and “神经病” (crazy in Mandarin), just some words I’ve heard countless times in my household. Her exasperation feels hilariously relatable, especially as we, the audience, react to the film’s absurdity alongside her.

What stood out too was how Yeoh captured the long-standing pain and regret Evelyn held inside her for decades. In the scene where Evelyn peeks into an alternate life without Waymond, Yeoh delivers a heartbreaking moment of delicate longing, bringing a tear to my eye.

And in that scene with the now-iconic “laundry and taxes” line delivered by Waymond, it wasn’t just his words that moved me this time, but Evelyn’s reaction. Yeoh masterfully conveys the weight of that epiphany—the moment Evelyn realizes that, despite the supposed meaninglessness of life, she has consciously chosen to live this one with her family, and that’s worth it.

Perhaps my only gripe with Yeoh’s performance was Evelyn’s fluctuating accent and command of English, though it’s more of the script’s fault for the latter. At times, Evelyn speaks with an exaggerated Hong Kong accent, her English deliberately of a non-native standard to emphasize her immigrant background. Sometimes, her natural Malaysian accent slips through, and then there were other moments where her English is as polished as Yeoh herself.

Regardless, the film is a triumphant celebration of Yeoh’s legacy, so it makes sense that she pulled from every corner of her life and career. I enjoyed the sense of comfort and familiarity the film evoked, hearing Michelle Yeoh casually switch between English, Mandarin, and Cantonese.

The supercut of an alternate Evelyn as a glamorous movie star is an obvious nod to Yeoh herself, incorporating real-life footage of the movie star. One blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment that caught my eye was a shot of Yeoh at the 2015 Singapore International Film Festival (SGIFF), a small detail I’m glad I caught.

So yes, with all that said, EEAAO is still spellbinding and the magic hasn’t faded a bit.

The nominees

Who won what:
Golden Globes Best Actress (Drama): Cate Blanchett, TÁR
Golden Globes Best Actress (Comedy/Musical): Michelle Yeoh, Everything Everywhere All at Once
Critics Choice Best Actress: Cate Blanchett, TÁR
SAG Best Actress: Michelle Yeoh, Everything Everywhere All at Once
BAFTA Best Actress: Cate Blanchett, TÁR
Oscars: Michelle Yeoh, Everything Everywhere All at Once

From the very beginning, the media positioned Cate Blanchett and Michelle Yeoh as the clear frontrunners, even pairing them up for Variety’s Actors on Actors. It was lovely to see how cordial they were whenever they crossed paths at events, and the two took turns winning different precursor awards.

The Blanchett vs. Yeoh showdown was one of the most contentious Best Actress races we’ve had, and it did get ugly for a while. A part of Yeoh’s narrative was making history as the first Asian actress to win Best Actress, while Blanchett’s campaign leaned on the ‘undeniable performance of the year’ angle.

This division fueled toxicity online, with accusations flying in both directions. If Yeoh won a precursor, some argued it was due to her ethnicity rather than award bodies truly rewarding the best. If Blanchett took an award, others claimed it was the result of an industry that systematically favors whiteness.

Nuance was in short supply, and the discourse reached its breaking point when Yeoh shared a Vogue article on Instagram that highlighted the significance of her win. While Yeoh later deleted the post, some interpreted it as unprofessional and an unnecessary dig at Blanchett.

Personally, I felt that the Vogue article made a valid point in calling out the Academy’s structural lack of diversity, especially in the Best Actress category. To this day, Halle Berry and Yeoh herself are the only POC winners for Best Actress. If you isolate just the segment on Blanchett, it might seem like a personal attack, but the article ultimately speaks to something much larger than her, Yeoh, or even the Oscars themselves. It highlights a systemic issue of the roles non-white actors are (or aren’t) given, the opportunities available to them, and how Hollywood’s biases shape who even gets to be in the conversation for these awards in the first place.

Speaking of Blanchett, she gave a shoutout to several actresses in her Critics Choice acceptance speech, including Andrea Riseborough, a fellow nominee in the category who was deep in controversy herself.

Riseborough’s nomination for To Leslie came out of nowhere; she was not nominated for any precursor awards and had few mentions amongst film critics circles too. But thanks to a suspiciously elaborate last-minute grassroots campaign led by well-connected actors, including Frances Fisher and Kate Winslet, she defied all odds and made the eventual Best Actress lineup.

Her nomination raised eyebrows on how much influence Hollywood’s inner circle actually had over Oscars voting, and the whole fiasco led to a formal review by the Academy, though her nomination was ultimately unaffected.

Followers of awards season agreed that Riseborough’s eleventh-hour surge likely took the spot of either Danielle Deadwyler or Viola Davis that year, as they were both nominated across the board heading into Oscars nominations.

When asked of the snub, Deadwyler alluded that voters chose not to see her film Till, a biographical film about Mamie Till, a Black activist who fought against the violent persecution against Black Americans after the infamous lynching of her teen son Emmett. “We’re talking about people who perhaps chose not to see the film. We’re talking about misogynoir, like it comes in all kinds of ways, whether it’s direct or indirect,” she said.

As for Viola Davis, she was in contention for The Woman King, a historical film about an all-female African warrior regiment. She wrote in an Instagram post: “Whether it be a "grassroots" campaign spearheaded by peers or multi-million industry dollars backing one, we rarely are the benefactors … I stand in solidarity with [director] Gina Prince-Bythewood and all artists of color who continue to work, create, thrive despite our environment.”

Other performances I loved but stood no chance: Tang Wei, Decision to Leave; Jessica Chastain, The Good Nurse; Park Ji-min, Return to Seoul; Emma Thompson, Good Luck to You, Leo Grande; Aubrey Plaza, Emily the Criminal; Jennifer Lawrence, Causeway.

Conclusion

This feels like a cop-out but TÁR and EEAAO were such wildly different films that comparing Blanchett and Yeoh is impossible.

Blanchett’s performance was meticulous; her Lydia Tár was charismatic, commanding, and captured all the layered nuances of the character written so brilliantly by writer-director Todd Field. It’s the kind of performance that reminds you why Blanchett is one of the finest actresses to grace the big screen.

Funnily enough, I actually liked Andrea Riseborough in To Leslie. The film had an intimate indie touch that lets its naturalistic actors shine, and Riseborough delivered. It’s a shame that the messiness of her campaign overshadowed her work.

Ultimately, it just feels absolutely right that Yeoh’s Evelyn is an Oscar-winning performance. She quite literally had to be so many things at once—a mother, a daughter, a wife, an actress, and a star—and Yeoh nails it all. Through all the absurdity, she brought so much heart to Evelyn, and my heart lies with Yeoh as well. It’s a career-defining performance and the most well-crafted culmination of decades of hard work that hasn’t been appreciated enough. It’s a coronation story that is just so well-written that you have no choice but to get on board.

Do you think Michelle Yeoh deserved the Oscar for Everything Everywhere All at Once?

Ranking so far…

1. Michelle Yeoh, Everything Everywhere All at Once

2. Emma Stone, Poor Things

Up next

The nominations for this year’s Oscars were recently announced, and controversy is here once again, this time surrounding Best Actress nominee Karla Sofía Gascón and a series of racist and xenophobic tweets. Boy is it messy, but I’ll get to it later in a post after the Oscars in March. I’m sure there’s more drama to come in the meantime.

For 2021, we’ll be looking at Jessica Chastain’s win for The Eyes of Tammy Faye, the biopic of American evangelist Tammy Faye. I’m somewhat dreading to rewatch this one, but I’ll soldier on and tell myself it’s all in the spirit of the challenge…

Happy new year, and as promised, welcome to the very first post of my Best Actress Challenge series.

Here’s the plan: every week I’ll (re)watch a film that won Best Actress at the Oscars, going back one year at a time until I reach the inaugural recipient, Janet Gaynor in 1927/28, or until I burn out (betting on the latter).

Why Best Actress? It’s my favorite category every time awards season comes around. I love watching actresses serve top-tier actressing, be it devastating monologues or high camp moments. I’ll also look into how the criteria for winning Best Actress has evolved over the decades, and examine how external factors come into play in the Best Actress race each year.

Let’s begin with our latest winner: Emma Stone for her role as Bella Baxter in the absurdist comedy Poor Things, directed by Yorgos Lanthimos.

(PS: I prefer sticking to film year than ceremony year, so Stone’s win is tagged as 2023 for this series)

First impression

Emma Stone and Yorgos Lanthimos previously collaborated on the period comedy-drama The Favourite, a film I absolutely adore and regard as an all-time favorite. Naturally, the prospect of them teaming up again felt like a dream.

After Poor Things premiered at Venice and won the Golden Lion, it became my most anticipated film of 2023. I was convinced I’d LOVE the film.

Until I didn’t.

My first watch of Poor Things was disappointing. I left the theater feeling disconnected from the film. It was rather embarrassing to admit, especially since my audience was laughing and cheering at every other scene.

“What made people chuckle made me wince, what they thought was bold looked reckless to me, and what was championed as female empowerment felt more like a reductive male fantasy.”

I wrote this in my Letterboxd review, and looking back, boy was it scathing. I don’t usually go hard on films, especially something so outwardly ambitious, but something about Poor Things triggered me. Watching Bella and her childlike antics—prancing around cluelessly while men took advantage of her—made me uncomfortable.

Perhaps even more unsettling was hearing the audience’s hysterical laughter over and over. To me, it felt like they were laughing at Bella, not with her. The humor was at her expense; her vulnerability and naivety exploited for cheap laughs. Disheartened by Bella’s arc, I struggled to reconcile this discomfort with the film’s supposed empowering message.

Rewatch

Perhaps it’s the enjoyment of watching it on my own, away from the distraction of a boisterous crowd. Or perhaps my perception is now colored by Stone’s Oscar win. Whatever it is, the film became more palatable to me on a rewatch.

I remember many declared this to be Stone’s career-best performance, but I wasn’t convinced. Stone always had a knack for quirky comedic roles, from her early days in Zombieland and Easy A to The Favourite (still her best performance to me), so I didn’t think that playing Bella was a particularly difficult task for her.

This time, I paid closer attention to the physicality of Stone’s performance. She shared that while on set, she didn’t focus too much on precise mannerisms. Instead, the cast played theater games during rehearsals to ease the awkwardness, allowing everyone to be free in their movements while shooting.

Certainly, that choice shines through in her portrayal of Bella. I can imagine other actresses trying very hard to perfect Bella’s quirks, and thus their Bella would’ve been overly mannered. For Stone, her gait, gestures, and the way she contorts her face feel purposeful, but not mechanical. I can tell that every movement emerges from a genuine sense of discovery that Bella has.

With this rewatch, I found myself appreciating Poor Things as a story about growth and selfhood. Bella’s self-actualization journey resonates more this time, though I still feel like its treatment of broader topics like sex work, female bodily autonomy, and capitalism to be muddled. I guess if you don’t think too much about it, it’s an enjoyable film. It’s definitely pretty to look at too, from the costumes to the set design, and the score is very fine work as well.

Somewhat absolved, I guess!

The nominees

Who won what:
Golden Globes Best Actress (Drama): Lily Gladstone, Killers of the Flower Moon
Golden Globes Best Actress (Comedy/Musical): Emma Stone, Poor Things
Critics Choice Best Actress: Emma Stone, Poor Things
SAG Best Actress: Lily Gladstone, Killers of the Flower Moon
BAFTA Best Actress: Emma Stone, Poor Things
Oscars: Emma Stone, Poor Things

The Best Actress race that year was a showdown between two Stones as soon as the envelopes were opened at the Globes. As with many years, the genre split at the Globes narrowed the race down to the Drama winner (Gladstone) and the Comedy winner (Stone).

Tension heightened as the two split the industry precursors: Gladstone took SAG, while Stone won BAFTA. SAG often responds to powerful narratives, and Gladstone was campaigning to be the first Native American Best Actress winner. Meanwhile, BAFTA loves their highbrow festival films with European sensibilities, so Stone’s win there was no surprise.

It was a nail-biter until the end. I placed my money on Gladstone after her SAG win, which was the final award show before the Oscars. But in the end, Stone emerged victorious, and judging by her expression when they read her name, even she was shocked.

Nonetheless, Gladstone was a good sport throughout the season. Her heartfelt SAG acceptance speech is a standout moment of the season. Stone, too, was great with her humble and slightly self-deprecating speeches, particularly at Critics Choice where she gave a beautiful shoutout to her fellow nominees.

Of course, no awards season is complete without its share of snubs. Margot Robbie’s omission for Barbie was the biggest headline on nominations morning. One can never forget this cringe tweet from #HillaryBarbie. You can’t make this stuff up.

I guess many saw Robbie as merely the straight man to Ryan Gosling’s bombastic Ken, but I’ll die on the hill that Robbie delivered an incredibly nuanced performance (and better than Gosling), and what she did was so much more than playing a pretty doll. She would’ve been a fantastic nominee, but I digress.

Another notable miss was Greta Lee. While I love Past Lives, it’s an understated indie film and I understand why her subtle work in the film went unnoticed in the end.

Other performances I loved but stood no chance: Natalie Portman, May December; Michelle Williams, Showing Up; Vivian Oparah, Rye Lane; Jessica Chastain, Memory; Cynthia Erivo, Drift; Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor, Origin.

Conclusion

Stone might not have blown me away initially, but after this rewatch, I liked her performance a lot more. Though I think I still prefer her Oscar-winning turn in La La Land (hot take, I know… *hides*). We’ll see if my opinion changes when we get to 2016.

With that said, my personal pick would’ve been Sandra Hüller’s titanic performance in the French courtroom drama Anatomy of a Fall. The film was my favorite of 2023, and Hüller’s commanding presence absolutely sold the film for me. With the film being partially non-English and Hüller a foreign actress from outside the Hollywood bubble, her road to an Oscar was always going to be an uphill battle.

As for Lily Gladstone in Killers of the Flower Moon, while she was decent, I found myself rooting for her more than her performance itself. I suspect the Academy might’ve felt the same; her arguably borderline supporting role, while powerful, didn’t command the screen in an all-encompassing way Stone and Hüller did in their respective films.

Ultimately, I’m still thrilled for Stone. At only 36 years old, she’s already building a phenomenal career: two lead Oscars, a stacked filmography, and a growing producing portfolio. She was a producer on Poor Things, and this past year she produced several indie films like I Saw the TV Glow, A Real Pain, and Problemista. Kudos to her.

If anything, I take Stone’s win as a triumph for the weirdos. Poor Things is an unconventional Best Actress vehicle and not what I’d call Oscar bait at all—she’s not caked in makeup, she’s not playing a historic figure, nor does she scream and cry all the time. Her victory is a good sign for offbeat comedy films, proving that they can stand alongside serious dramas after all.

Do you think Emma Stone deserved the Oscar for Poor Things?

Up next

For 2022, we have Michelle Yeoh’s historic win for Everything Everywhere All at Once. Keep your googly eyes peeled! 👀

How’s everyone doing? I’ve been binging Squid Game 2 these past couple of days. As we leave 2024 behind, here’s a look at my December and what’s to come for poptimister in the year ahead.

Film reviews

I caught a bunch of films at the Singapore International Film Festival (SGIFF) last month. Two films in particular resonated with me: Universal Language and I Saw the TV Glow. Read my reviews below!

SZA releases LANA, the deluxe edition of SOS

Releasing music in the middle of December is basically self-sabotage, but if anyone can survive the holiday freeze on the charts, it’s SZA.

The long-awaited follow-up to SOS is finally here, adding 15 new songs to her 2022 smash album. Honestly, it feels like a whole new era to me, so I’m treating it as a completely separate album.

In true SZA fashion, the release of LANA hasn’t been without drama. First, its midnight drop was delayed by hours, then she leaked a text exchange with her manager Punch, showing her asking him if more songs could be added to the tracklist.

It was later announced that SZA and Punch have parted ways, then she confirmed that the new songs will still be added, but her label’s holiday schedules meant fans would have to wait until January. It’s chaotic and honestly so on-brand for SZA, but for now, I’m just bopping along with my Scorpio sister.

Rosé releases debut solo album rosie

In October, BLACKPINK’s Rosé conquered the world with “APT.,” a global phenomenon so ubiquitous that it’s now pissing off parents. Her solo debut album rosie arrived earlier this month, demonstrating her potential as a solo artist. Read my album review of rosie below:

A Nonsense Christmas with Sabrina Carpenter

A delightful mix of camp and glamor, Sabrina Carpenter’s Christmas special on Netflix was a fun watch, rounding out the amazing 2024 she’s had.

The musical performances were decent, including collaborations with special guests Chappell Roan, Tyla, Shania Twain, and Kali Uchis, but the comedy sketches? Not so much. Still worth a watch nonetheless, and I reckon this will be a recurring holiday favorite for years to come.

Survivor 47 finale

I won’t dwell too much on Survivor since I know most of y’all don’t watch it, but Survivor 47 was yet another entertaining season with impressive strategic gameplay! If you’re thinking of getting into it, I feel like it’s the right time now with season 50 coming up next year, where we’ll see a grand return of many past players. Season 48 starts airing in February!

Timothée Chalamet’s unorthodox awards campaign

As awards season ramps up, Timothée Chalamet’s savvy campaign strategy for the Bob Dylan biopic A Complete Unknown is in full swing. Instead of just traditional media avenues like press interviews and Q&A sessions, he opted for unconventional interviewers with huge online followings like Nardwuar and Theo Von, and also showed up on ESPN as a college football commentator.

But perhaps most eccentric of it all is Chalamet’s social media, where he hosted an Instagram livestream of him watching a projection of Bob Dylan, before prancing around an empty warehouse to Black Eyed Peas’ “I Gotta Feeling.” You truly can’t make this stuff up.

December, curated.

Everything else to pique your interest, non-paywalled links provided

ARTICLES

1. Luigi Mangione Has Become A Social Media Folk Hero

2. How Does My Divorce Make You Feel? (by Dr. Lilly Jay, Ethan Slater’s ex-wife)

3. ‘We Can Bury Anyone’: Inside a Hollywood Smear Machine (Blake Lively vs. Justin Baldoni)

4. Justin Baldoni Files $250 Million Lawsuit Against New York Times Over Blake Lively Story: It Relied on Her ‘Self-Serving Narrative’ (Blake Lively vs. Justin Baldoni)

5. Judge denies Jay-Z’s efforts to dismiss case accusing him of raping girl, 13

6. Mikey Madison Declined an Intimacy Coordinator on ‘Anora,’ but Professionals Say There Should Always Be One: Actors and Directors ‘Can’t Speak for How Every Extra Felt’

7. Taylor Swift started the Eras Tour when people needed it most. Now, it’s time to say goodbye

8. Billboard Staff’s Greatest Pop Stars of 2024: No. 1— Kendrick Lamar (links to the entire top 10 ranking in the article)

9. Report: Spotify is populating its playlists with “ghost artists”

10. 2024 was the year of the pop femininomenon
    
    

VIDEOS

1. NPR Tiny Desk Concert: Doechii, Billie Eilish, Sabrina Carpenter

2. How Amy Allen Became The Biggest Songwriter of The Year (interview by Daniel Wall)

3. Why the Defying Gravity Vocal Riff Is Amazing in Wicked (video essay by Howard Ho)

4. Are Gen Z Popstars In Trouble? (video essay by honest)

5. Billie Eilish: Same Interview, The Eighth Year (interview by Vanity Fair)

6. Beyoncé’s FULL Christmas Day Halftime Show (Beyoncé Bowl!)

7. Olivia Rodrigo - GUTS World Tour (Visiting the Philippines with Amex)

8. Taylor Swift’s “Cruel Summer”, Choired! (cover by Choir! Choir! Choir!)

What you can expect in the new year

• More frequent posts

‘Why not?’ is my 2025 mantra, in hopes of combatting overthinking. Over the years, I’ve found myself constantly second-guessing ideas and scrutinizing word choices, thus hindering my writing process. This year, I’m choosing to embrace a little recklessness and lean into the freedom of self-expression, and hopefully, more imperfect posts and fewer scrapped drafts!

• Best Actress Challenge 2025

To set things into motion, I’m launching a new project where I attempt to (re)watch every single film that won Best Actress at the Oscars. And I’ll be documenting the journey here on poptimister, of course.

I’m kicking things off with the most recent winner: Emma Stone for Poor Things. I rewatched the film today, so you can expect a post on it soon. From there, I’ll work my way back in time, year by year. Will I make it all the way to 1927? Probably not, but let’s see how far I’ll go. Hahaha.

And that’s all from me for now. Gotta go!

From the beginning, we meet young Owen, alone and apprehensive, and his shifty eyes darting around the room. He chances upon Maddy, two years his senior, and the two form an unlikely bond over their interest in The Pink Opaque, a ‘90s young adult TV show.

The film then immerses us in the fantasy realm of The Pink Opaque, where teenagers wield psychic powers to fight the big bad, Mr. Melancholy. For Owen and Maddy, the series becomes an obsession that grips them with an almost suffocating intensity. As their fascination deepens, they imagine themselves living within the show’s fictional universe.

Much like how The Pink Opaque seizes our protagonists, the film envelops us in a disorienting atmosphere. Schoenbrun’s mastery of mood-setting is undeniable—the neon hues and shadowy visuals create an otherworldly vibe. This aesthetic, complemented with dreamy needle drops from artists like Caroline Polachek and yeule, makes the film feel like a drifting memory—still vivid, yet just out of reach.

The performances by Justice Smith and Brigette Lundy-Paine are commendable, anchoring the abstract narrative with emotional weight. Their portrayals of Owen and Maddy, two alienated teens who find solace in the escapist world of television, strike a delicate balance between vulnerability and fearlessness.

It’s hard to dive deeper without touching on spoilers, but suffice to say, the story takes a dramatic turn. Owen and Maddy grow up and grow apart, as their shared fixation with The Pink Opaque spirals into something far more sinister.

In many ways, the film is a reflection of the trans and queer experience. Schoenbrun, who is trans and non-binary, threads themes of identity and self-discovery throughout the film, with the trans flag colors serving as an obvious visual marker. In one scene, Owen’s father dismisses the TV show as something meant for girls only, prompting Owen to confront his complex relationship with the show, and by extension, his identity too.

Yet, the film carries a universal relatability as well. Owen and Maddy’s obsession underscores how the media profoundly shapes our identities during our formative years. The film may be read as a haunting tale of melancholy, with our childhood relics symbolizing the fragility of lost innocence and the inevitability of leaving our past behind.

Of course, my relationship with the film is twofold. On the one hand, I empathize with Owen’s struggle to reconcile his gender and sexual identity. I reckon there’s that same resonance for many queer individuals too, as we search for a safe space where we feel seen and accepted for who we are.

On the other hand, the film also speaks to my longing for the past, capturing the fading glow of something once all-consuming that has since slipped through our fingers. As I grow older, I find that nostalgia becomes more dangerous to indulge in, and the media that shaped my childhood feels more bittersweet each time I revisit it.

Despite its strengths, the film sometimes struggles under the weight of its ambition. It often reiterates its themes to the point of being didactic, and the expositions by Maddy can feel overwrought at times. What the film does achieve, however, is an affecting depiction of isolation. The film’s third act may be polarizing, but for me, it demonstrates the existential horror that life brings to queer individuals.

Though it gets lost in its own symbolism occasionally, I Saw the TV Glow is a testament to Schoenbrun’s creative vision and ability to craft an evocative cinematic experience. Regardless of whether you liked it or not, the film will linger, like the afterglow of a memory long past, yet still fondly remembered.

Watch the trailer of I Saw the TV Glow below:

2024 has been an tremendous year for pop music, and it’s probably the best since 2016, I’d say. My greatest songs list runs deep this year, but for this post, I want to exclude the obvious ones that everyone is already talking about. That means no “Not Like Us,” nothing from BRAT, and definitely no Sabrina or Chappell.

Instead, I want to spotlight some of my favorite tracks that are still somewhat under the radar, sitting below my arbitrary benchmark of 50 million Spotify streams.

Here goes!

1. KACEY MUSGRAVES - “THE ARCHITECT”

“Do we have any say in this mess?”

In this amazing year for women in music, country singer-songwriter Kacey Musgraves was one of the first to get things going. Her album, Deeper Well, dropped in March, and it quickly won me over with its earthy aesthetic (green is my favorite color after all).

The standout track, “The Architect,” finds Musgraves ruminating on the existence of a higher power. “Can I speak to the architect?”, she asks in the song’s main hook, a question that lingers and resonates, as I’ve often pondered the same. Of course, the song isn’t quite a theology study, but it’s remarkable how it distills these weighty themes into a three-minute country-pop track. For Musgraves, it’s not so much about providing answers than sparking a thought, and she does it effortlessly on “The Architect.”

2. RACHEL CHINOURIRI - “NEVER NEED ME”

“I've made plans, and sorry, they're without you”

Yes, I’m back on my Rachel Chinouriri agenda. The British singer-songwriter’s debut album was simply one of my favorite discoveries this year. Beyond her music, I’m enamored by Chinouriri’s earnest online presence—from fostering a genuine community of fans to displaying her unapologetic hunger for success. At the heart of my obsession is “Never Need Me,” a pop anthem powered by its irresistibly infectious, sing-along chorus.

Ida from indie pop diaries does a great job breaking down Chinouriri’s artistry here:

indie pop diaries

My newest indie pop girl obsession

Recently I've been obsessed with Rachel Chinouriri's debut album What A Devastating Turn of Events. She is an upcoming British indie pop star. I was drawn to her catchy songs, her storytelling as well as her stunning outfits. In the spring she is touring with Sabrina Carpenter on the…

Read more

2 years ago · 1 like · Ida Hildebrandt

Sure enough, “Never Need Me” has already become a highlight of Chinouriri’s live shows, where she joins the crowd and sings it with fans. I’m in love with her vibe.

3. FONTAINES D.C. - “STARBURSTER”

“I'm gon' hit your business if it's momentary blissness”

I’ll admit, I haven’t heard of Fontaines D.C. until this year. But when their Romance album started racking up rave reviews this year, I knew I had to pay closer attention to the Irish band. What I discovered was a band unafraid to push boundaries, blending a gritty rock sound with bright synth elements.

The lead single, “Starburster,” embodies this exact blend in a way I can only describe as art rock. Inspired by a panic attack frontman Grian Chatten experienced, gasps punctuate the song’s refrain to mirror his distress.

From start to end, “Starburster” is an unsettling journey. The urgency of Chatten’s rap delivery, the hypnotic instrumentals, and the slowed-down interlude section come together to create a sonic illustration of panic—full of surprises and grips you tight till the final second.

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4. MAGDALENA BAY - “DEATH & ROMANCE”

“I give and you give till it's all that we have”

If you ask around indie circles, you might hear that Magdalena Bay’s Imaginal Disk is their BRAT—a visionary record with an iconic album cover and a concept that has turned into a lifestyle of sorts for its most avid listeners.

The linchpin of Magdalena Bay’s concept album is “Death & Romance,” a sweeping five-minute alternative pop anthem that explores the fragility of life and love. The song begins with a hypnotic piano riff before swelling into a euphoric finish, where layered drums and synths build upon one another and envelop the listener wholly. Mica Tenenbaum’s tender vocals capture one’s desire to hold onto a fleeting moment, even though we know it’ll slip away. In these five minutes, “Death & Romance” offers a catharsis—only temporary, but made to feel like it could last forever.

5. JADE - “ANGEL OF MY DREAMS”

“Sellin' my soul to a psycho, they say I'm so lucky”

“Let's do somethin’ crazy,” Jade declares in the intro of her song, “Angel of My Dreams.” And she did exactly that.

As the last Little Mix member to embark on a solo career, all eyes were on Jade Thirlwall—and she rose to the occasion with her electrifying debut track about her love-hate relationship with fame. From the ingenious sample of “Puppet on a String” to the tie-in of nods to Little Mix’s roots from The X Factor, Jade crafts a track that’s unique and assertive; exactly what one needs to make a splash with their debut solo single.

But perhaps the most interesting aspect of the song is its production—a chaotic, high-octane whirlwind of electroclash that commands attention. And every time that “Puppet on a String” sample kicks in, I feel like I’m ascending to heaven.

6. DOECHII - “DENIAL IS A RIVER”

“Label want the TikToks, now I'm makin' TikTok music, what the fuck?”

American rapper Doechii proves she’s a natural shapeshifter on “DENIAL IS A RIVER,” oscillating between herself and her therapist alter ego. Using a therapy session as a premise to bring out her flair for confessional songwriting, she recounts the tumultuous ups and downs of her past five years. Doechii crafts a compelling narrative with real-life events, such as being cheated on by her ex, the pressure from her label to make mainstream music, and her struggle with the Hollywood lifestyle. The exchange between the two personas is hilarious; the former’s self-deprecation being the perfect foil to the latter’s sass. Perhaps I should try this to confront my problems.

Thanks Nate for introducing me to Doechii, you can read his post about her song “BOOM BAP” on A Story for Another Day! here:

A Story For Another Day!

The Beauty of Doechii's 'BOOM BAP'

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2 years ago · 5 likes · 4 comments · Nathan

7. REMI WOLF - “SOUP”

“I can't help but make it 'bout me, oh, when you and I are together”

Remi Wolf’s “Soup” was an easy sell for me, with its ‘80s-inspired synths and soaring chorus melody that had me proclaiming ‘pop perfection’ from my first listen.

Lyrically, “Soup” touches on the complexities of modern love. It explores the fleeting moments of doubt, where we’ve been conditioned from past hurt to protect ourselves but are also ready to surrender ourselves to a budding romance.

The use of soup might seem random, but it’s unexpectedly endearing to me. “If you give me your keys, I’ll go and pick up the soup” illustrates the small, everyday acts of care that keep a relationship going. Soup becomes a symbol of warmth and comfort, and it’s mundane gestures like picking up soup that reveal love’s worth.

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Here’s a playlist to sum up my 2024, restricted to one song per artist. It’s a mix of personal favorites and the ones you simply couldn’t escape from, for better or for worse.

Enjoy looking back on the year with me:

And that’s all from me for now. Gotta go!

In Universal Language, the Canadian experimental writer-director establishes a world so strange that it demands a closer inspection. It’s snowy Winnipeg—but not as you know it. Rankin’s Winnipeg is reimagined with an Iranian identity: Persian script adorns building exteriors, Tim Hortons is swapped out for a cozy Iranian coffeehouse, and characters speak in Farsi to one another.

This cross-cultural exercise stemmed from Rankin’s love for Iranian cinema; his biggest exposure being film school in Iran at the age of 21. “The Iranian cinema, of course, is extremely vast and multifaceted, but the cinema that was particularly interesting to me is what I like to describe as meta-realism,” he says. Upon returning to Canada, he brought this sensibility back to his filmmaking, and Universal Language, in many ways, is the culmination of all the curiosity.

The film’s first act is led by two siblings, Negin and Nazgol, who discover an Iranian bill frozen in the ice below them. Wanting to purchase a new pair of glasses for their classmate Omid, they embark on a series of hilarious schemes to retrieve the Rial. The duo journeys through Winnipeg’s charming districts, crossing paths with an array of eccentric characters, including a man dressed as a Christmas tree and a singing butcher at a turkey shop. Bizarre moments like these had my audience in stitches, keeping them thoroughly engaged as the narrative takes bold turns.

Amidst the absurdity lies the film’s beating heart: Matthew, played by Rankin himself. Matthew is an unfulfilled government staff from Quebec who returns to Winnipeg to visit his ailing mother. On his way back, he slowly realizes his hometown feels deeply foreign now. His family home has been sold to a new family, and his mother is now living with Massoud, a tour guide. In the day, Massoud leads visitors through Winnipeg’s historic sites—places forgotten by time yet still carrying echoes of their stories. By night, he returns to care for Matthew’s mother.

This storyline, along with other eccentric ones, weave together intricately to form a complex web of human connections in Rankin’s Winnipeg. Their intersections might seem ordinary at first glance, but they’re orchestrated with a cleverness to keep the film dynamic and unpredictable.

I went into this film unsure of what to expect. Honestly, I found myself constantly trying to adjust to film’s absurd tone when it first started. But once the film finds its rhythm, or rather, once I found mine, it achieves a pitch-perfect balance between comedy and drama, and I was thoroughly enjoying myself.

I loved the constant ebb and flow between laugh-out-loud moments and surprisingly introspective beats. One minute, you’re laughing at a turkey who sits on the bus unassumingly like a regular passenger; the next, you’re reflecting on your own sense of home and belonging. It’s truly a miracle how Universal Language manages to juggle these wildly different tones without missing a beat.

On a technical level, the cinematography is breathtaking, with Winnipeg and all its vastness being a character of its own. The empty malls, cold terrains, and isolated shots of the city all contribute to a sense of solitary meditation that mirrors the film’s themes. Each frame is meticulously composed to emphasize how we are cast adrift in an indifferent world. It’s haunting, but also oddly comforting, like the city is quietly looking out for these characters.

In Rankin’s rule-breaking world, logic is abandoned for art’s sake. He crafts a boundless canvas, inviting us to project our own stories onto his absurd Winnipeg. It’s in this fantastical space that Universal Language becomes more than just a film; it’s a reflection of our personal quests for identity and belonging, set against the volatility of life itself.

Watching Universal Language made me reflect on my own life in surprising ways. As the characters grapple with disorientation, I found myself ruminating on my idea of home and whether I could ever truly be in one place. And if I do leave, would I, like Matthew, return one day to find it all foreign?

Watch the trailer of Universal Language below:

While Mars brings his reliable hitmaker presence (“APT.” and his Lady Gaga duet “Die with a Smile” have been simultaneously ruling the charts) to “APT.,” the stomp-clap anthem unmistakably belongs to Rosé through and through.

Rosé first recognized the ubiquity of the drinking game after introducing it to her friends. Feeling inspired, she came up with the idea of turning the game's signature rhythmic chant into an irresistible pop hook. The result was a viral sensation that took the world by storm, placing the spotlight squarely on Rosé and her next move as a solo artist.

“I have poured my blood and tears into this album,” she says in the announcement of her debut solo album rosie, promising to show a more intimate side to herself. Personally, as a fan since her BLACKPINK days, the idea of a solo Rosé album was compelling even before "APT.," but its novel success made it all the more exciting.

ROSÉ IN YOUR AREA

Rosé first caught my attention back in August 2016, when BLACKPINK debuted with the game-changing dual singles “Whistle” and “Boombayah.” Her voice—an eccentric blend of saccharine indie girl and the natural inflections of her Australian accent—stood out to me immediately. Of course, Rosé is vocally competent, but even without going into techniques, her voice is very distinct, which is all you really need in pop music.

Over time, as the K-pop group ventured into individual projects, beginning with Jennie's meta-titled “Solo,” I found myself eagerly anticipating Rosé’s solo music. She first gave us a preview in 2021 with the singles “On the Ground” and “Gone.” While they’re both decent efforts, I didn’t feel like it fully showcased her potential.

Since then, Rosé has expressed a strong desire to explore her artistic persona beyond BLACKPINK’s dance-pop discography. But stepping out of such a globally dominant group and into a solo career is no easy feat. With rosie, she begins carving out a personal identity of her own, though it feels like a tentative start rather than a bold march forward.

The album features Rosé navigating her first steps as a solo act with a collection of 12 tracks that lean heavily on familiarity. With songs mostly revolving around themes of love and heartbreak, the songwriting feels a tad too derivative and lacks an edge that would set her apart from a faceless pop star. As a result, much of the album feels like it’s designed to please rather than to simply exist as its own creative work.

EVERY ROSE HAS ITS THORN

The album opens with “number one girl,” a piano ballad about her yearning for love and validation. “I’d give it all up if you told me that I’d be the number one girl in your eyes,” she pleads repeatedly. Rosé’s tender vocals shine here, showcasing her ability to convey emotional depth and putting it to far better use than BLACKPINK’s umpteen rehash of “DDU-DU DDU-DU.”

Yet, there’s a surprising lack of personality that permeates the song. The lyrics mostly tread familiar ground, bulldozing through platitudes of romance and heartbreak, while the production is kept strictly to radio fodder standard. Sure, it’s perfectly serviceable, but it’s this exact sense of deliberate restraint that extends throughout the album, holding it back from truly soaring.

Take “two years” for instance, a synth-pop song that could easily pass as a 1989 vault track, or “stay a little longer,” a cookie-cutter ballad designed to be wrung dry at karaoke machines in Asia. While they are inoffensive enough to be enjoyed as background music at a coffeeshop, a more intentional listen reveals how middling these songs are.

This cautious approach means that rosie lacks the standout moments needed to make a strong impression on first listen, apart from “APT.” itself. “APT.” perfectly captured Rosé’s potential and distinguished herself from other female singers or even her bandmates, blending Korean culture with a vibrant pop-rock touch that felt authentic to her.

The rest of the album fails to tap on this, especially the last couple tracks where it’s just a bunch of midtempos blurring together. It’s perhaps extra regrettable that such a well-rounded lead single like “APT.” didn’t set the stage for more.

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FOR STARTERS

Of course, this isn’t to say the album is a total clunker. The album latest single, “toxic till the end,” is an undeniable highlight. With its infectious pop chorus and anthemic energy, Rosé channels her inner Avril Lavigne, her voice echoing the rebellious spirit of a 2000s Avril track. At an age when album cycles are notoriously short, the song should give some legs to the rosie era for a while at least.

Then there’s “drinks or coffee,” a breezy R&B bop that doesn’t pretend to be anything deeper than it is, fully embracing its light-hearted charm with ease. Its production is groovy, complemented by Rosé’s effortlessly cool delivery gliding through every flirtatious hook. The track feels tailor-made for TikTok; its playful chorus potentially launching the next viral dance trend. Next single?

Fans of Rosé will surely find solace in the album’s stripped moments. Yet, I feel like that’s exactly where my disappointment stems from—the much-parroted idea that Rosé’s inner singer-songwriter has been slighted by the glossy girl group veneer, only to be served something just as pedestrian.

Of course, Rosé’s transition from idol to artist was never going to be easy. Like many before her, she faces the pressure of putting out something that would set her apart from her group. rosie makes a visible attempt to pivot away from the larger-than-life image of BLACKPINK, but it stops short of fully extracting the essence of Rosé as an artist.

Simply put, rosie isn’t the album that will crown Rosé as a main pop girl. To do so, she would’ve needed to put out a more cohesive body of work—think WHEN WE ALL FALL ASLEEP, WHERE DO WE GO? or SOUR. In an era of female singer-songwriters dominating the cultural zeitgeist, playing it safe is just not going to cut it.

Rosé’s solo journey has just begun and the door remains wide open for her, especially when she already has a built-in following from BLACKPINK. I remain hopeful that with a bolder artistic vision and a couple creative risks, greater heights are still within reach.

The question now: will she take that leap?

Stream rosie now!