Film and TV talk with the Brothers Wilson
August 8, 2021
Hacks – Flack – Adult Material – Jackie Brown
Jim Wilson: Jeff, hey, what’s happening?
Jeff Wilson: Oh, hi, Jim. Just cleaning up again. A wayward goat stepped on one of my mines. Madge! Clean-up on aisle 9!
Jim: Yikes. That one’s all yours.
We’re back with Wiping Up Deux, where we’re talking about a few current serial TV shows and an old movie, all in a kind of conversational capsule form.
Let’s start with Hacks, a twelve-episode, half-hour series on HBO. You weren’t signaling favorably about it at first, but seemed to fall under its spell eventually. What managed to bring you around?
Jeff: I just had to watch this show initially because it featured Jean Smart, who I had just fallen in love with in Mare of Easttown.
She plays an aging female stand-up diva named Deborah Vance, struggling to keep her nightly Vegas show. Enter Ava (Hannah Einbinder), a 25-year-old writer who has a knack for losing jobs and alienating everyone around her with caustic, unfiltered and overtly opinionated views on…everything. I found that early on in the show I sensed a lot of awkward, empty spaces in some of the scenes which put me off a little.
In hindsight, this was a purposeful atmosphere created by the show’s creators, which slowly gets filled in as the show progresses. Deb and Ava’s forced working-together relationship does not go well, to say the least. The show does a good job of highlighting the differences in views about… almost everything between a 70-ish self-made diva and a 25-year-old “woke” Gen Z-er. But as they spend more and more time together, they slowly realize how similar they actually are. Or, to put it better, what it is the other has and knows that can truly benefit the other. Which is what I think the show is really trying to put forward here, women learning to work together to help push them all forward. Not to guard their little foxholes of glory they’ve dug out for themselves, with walls of cynicism and unwillingness to change. And the show does operate on a high level by showing these things, but it also excels at – that’s right – being funny.
Deb and Ava’s relationship is ripe with naturally organic, comedic possibilities and the show harvests it quite well. But what really rounds out this show, or any truly good show, is the performances and writing of the peripheral characters. Megan Statler as Ava’s agent’s (Jimmy) assistant Kayla is an absolute hoot. The rotund, overly fired-up daughter-of-the-owner, of Jimmy’s boss, essentially operating on her own agenda, is constantly hilarious. She causes much more work for Jimmy than she alleviates, consistently screws up his coffee, and lets him know when his phone is ringing rather than answering it, which is her job. I mean, come on, that’s fuckin’ rich. When she eventually reverse MeToos him in a Vegas hotel suite, it’s just golden. And then Jane Adams as Ava’s mother puts a new, extra twist on the classic obsessively worried mother character. And, of course, there’s the suicide boyfriend, LOL.
Once this show grabbed me at episode 3 or 4, I burned through it. I advise anyone who struggles with it early-on to stick with it.
So tell me, Jim, what did Hacks do for you? And what made you like it from the start?
Jim: I adore Hacks, and you’re right, I did so from the start. Hannah Einbinder grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and dragged me pleasantly into this story about helping and being helped. I understand Ava instinctively. She’s very clear about what she thinks and feels, and does not hesitate to express it. She’s smart and talented, but rough, unfinished, and lacking the filters that could help lower her performative geek-quotient by a lot. For that reason, she’s pretty much alone, having exhausted her welcome with friends, lovers, and work associates alike. Her introduction to Deborah Vance both enflames her militant feminist wokeness, and ignites a sisterly fire as well, where I think she enjoys something in Deborah that isn’t true about her own mother, namely confidence. Speaking of which, you’re right about Jane Adams. Casting her as Ava’s mother is a stroke of genius. For the few times she appears, Adams plays a perfectly neurotic mess of a mother.
This is out of step, I know, but it works here, so I’m doing it. We’re going to talk about the show Flack in this Wiping Up, probably next. But instead of there, I’m going to quote Eve here, played by the amazing Lydia Wilson (a distant cousin of ours, I’m certain). Mothers have been a big theme in a lot of the shows we’ve been talking about, and no less in Flack. In the second season of the show, Eve explains to Melody, after Mel complains about her mother’s weird, mechanical persistence:
“That’s the thing about mothers. They’re like Terminators. They can’t be bargained with, they can’t be reasoned with, they don’t feel pity or fear or remorse, and they absolutely will not stop, ever, until you’re dead.”
That brought me to leaky laughter, you know, so hard I cried.
In Hacks, Jean Smart’s Deborah is a mother, too, and the relationship with her daughter is a big part of the show. Caitlin Olson’s DJ is a great character, someone who’s very much trapped between the omnipresence of her mother and the kind of personal liberation Ava suggests. I love the dysfunctions between Deborah and DJ, which open up a central theme of the show, about willful female degradation. Tipping off the paparazzi, or doing questionable pizza promos, what do you make of that element of the show and how Ava manages to effect it?
Jeff: Well yes, I think that’s Ava’s main upside, which the show is trying to put forth, the elevation of modern female self-image, to not allow themselves to be degraded, or see that it even is degradation. It’s also probably at the core of what causes Ava’s overly forthright, prickly personality, her bullishness on this topic, to see all these things through her eyes and how much it infuriates her, while Deb has seen it all, but has woven herself into it. Ava is desperately urging Deborah to use the capital and power she’s accumulated to say something about it all, not just talk about how she’s had to work so hard every day to get anywhere, but to use her position to pave a more just road.
But listen, I gotta run… Going to see Black Widow. Scarlett, Florence Pugh, Rachel Weisz… mike drop. Later.
Jim: Oh, cool, we’ll have to carve out a little time here for your Black Widow report.
You’re exactly right about Ava’s project. Ava is constantly working to get Deborah to see that she’s been using patriarchal society’s degradation of women as material for her act. The story about her burning down her ex-husband’s house is the prime example of this. Though she initially told authorities that she wasn’t responsible, no one would believe her because she was a “woman scorned” by the infidelity of her husband with her own sister. She was seen as hysterical with rage, so naturally she burned down his house. It doesn’t get more systemically misogynistic than that.
So what does Deborah the comedian do? She folds it into her act. Everybody laughs at the wacky arson lady. It’s an integral part of her brand, like the promo event she does for the pizza franchise, posing with a burnt pizza, and fake soot all over her face. Then there’s the way she permits DJ, her daughter, to sell access to her mother’s most unflattering moments for the paparazzi to photograph and splash all over the gossip rags. Not only is the show making a sharp point about the commodification of female debasement, but also a broader point about how comedy and indignity are often intertwined. And it’s not just Deborah who’s doing this. In her own way, Ava, the penultimate woke Zoomer, is doing the inverse, by always pushing herself into spaces where she’s awkward and unwelcome. Both Deborah and Ava are strong, independent women, but they suffer from similar blind-spots, whereby they don’t see how their aggressive behavior makes them look like willful fools. Watching the two gradually tug each other closer and closer into each other’s orbits, for the greater benefit of both, is what makes Hacks so rewarding. Not to mention the brilliant film craft, cinematography and performances from all. Special kudos, too, to Lorenza Izzo as Ava’s ex-girlfriend. It’s always cool to see an accomplished lead performer taking on a small role. Her impression matters.
Before we move on to Flack, tell me what you thought of Black Widow.
Jeff: Wow, Scarlett Johansson and Florence Pugh have some great chemistry going in BW. A lot of fun dialogue moments through the center of the film. And yes, they wear some nice, tight jumpsuits. It certainly has the feel of a SJ-passing-the-torch-to-FP thing at times. And as Marvel films go, it’s light on the “superpowers” overkill. Definitely a fun film, Harbour and Weisz add their own layer of humorous banter to the mix. The special effects and fighting are rather well done and since the film isn’t overtly clogged with them, they hit a little harder.
The previews… Dune, No Time to Die… September, October… Wake me when summer ends.
Jim: Well, as I understand it, the Black Widow character doesn’t have special superpowers. Though I’m not likely to watch it until it’s a cheap streaming rental, or free, that is one of its strongest selling features for me – no bullshit god powers – which isn’t saying much. Really, the biggest selling points to me are the three names Johansson, Pugh and Weisz.
We committed ourselves to the second season of Flack, the Amazon series about the cut-throat London PR firm, starring Anna Paquin and Lydia Wilson, which meant watching S1 first, so lots of incoming Flack. It took we a while to get into the first season, because of its particular brand of dialogue, which is, as biting, acerbic and funny as it may be, really ponderous and distracting. I was reminded right away of the French series Call My Agent! (Dix pour cent), which shares a similar episodic formula regarding a celebrity in trouble and the mountains their representative will climb to resolve the problem, though in Flack those mountains are much higher and more treacherous. Of course, it’s all just meant to be good fun, but I really don’t think it’s until season two of Flack that the show finds its stride, by releasing the characters from the first season’s formulaic restraints and letting them become recognizable individuals, which is – news flash! – a lot more satisfying. I guess this is true in S1 with Paquin’s Robyn, since she’s the lead, with the most complex backstory, but in S2 Wilson’s Eve, Benson’s Melody, and Okonedo’s Caroline really come into their own and make the show a rewarding experience.
Jeff: The show hits you like a freight train. The dialogue flies at you like fully-automatic machine-gun fire. But as you get your head around the deeply sarcastic cynicism-rich humor between Anna Paquin (Robyn) and Lydia Wilson (Eve, and distant relation of ours) as they go about their daily business of saving rich, pampered celebrities from themselves, the show begins to grow on you…like fungi.
The cast saves this show early-on and then pushes it to great heights later on, as the stories ebb and flows in quality. 105 and 106 blew me away. 204, which I just watched, is film-grade. Lydia Wilson’s well-deserved and expanded role as Eve in S2 is a sheer joy to watch. Where has she been hiding? A really awesome, cynically humorous, yet serious character, Wilson pulls her off at an incredibly high-level here. Plus, she’s just drop dead gorgeous, wow. Rebecca Benson and her naive, innocent Scottish assistant Melody rounds out the Tres Amigas.
I’ve been a fan of Anna Paquin’s since Campion’s The Piano and this show is a perfect vehicle for her considerable gift of spewing out voluminous, overly emoted dialogue. And yes, Caroline “the boss” is played to a tee by Sophie Okonedo, who shines like a star in the aforementioned episode 204.
To me, the greatest achievement of the show is making the horrid, awful stuff it’s looking at so entertaining, and then slowly turning it all on its hinges enough to start seeing what’s actually behind these people.
Jim: I got a real kick out of seeing Sam Neill appear in S2, 27 years after he and the 10-year-old newcomer Paquin were together in The Piano. Another instance of a great lead performer doing a bit part in a TV series. Neill is always a thrill.
The celebrity quagmires that provide the surface plots for the episodes are inconsistently entertaining, not to mention credible, meaning incredible, but it’s the stories underneath, like you say, about the four ladies, that make Flack such a pleasure. Robyn is about as hot of a mess as one can imagine, and she only gets hotter and messier with each episode, which registers as a real tragedy. Paquin is a genius at portraying complexity with an economy of expression so white hot you can’t help but love her. Eve, who seems in the first season to be as cold-hearted and predatory as the lipstick-headed shark that serves as one of the first season’s posters, proves to be a fierce advocate for social justice and female empowerment in season two, as well as someone with a family history she’s struggling to square herself with.
I think where S1 lays out an entertaining premise about the annihilation of ethics in celebrity culture, S2 takes a careful and caring glance into the challenges and debris that creates for all the people involved.
Jeff: This is where Benson’s Melody is so important. Throughout S1 she serves as the “you” character, standing there innocently watching all this horrid shit going on….and falling in love with it….and almost crashing only to be saved at last minute by Robyn, in a rare moment of sensitivity/empathy/guilt. But in S2 with see Melody return to the fold and start to show us a humane/caring way of performing the same job. Mainly by letting the assholes burn and worry about saving/leveling-up those more deserving.
And Paquin in S2, oh my God! Has there ever been a messier hot mess? Talk about taking a header down the karma stairs.
Eve’s surprisingly mannish mother, who bears no resemblance to her at all, does pull off quite a performance in 204 and helps make the whole wedding shower scene come off as large as it does. Robyn’s similarly odd mother, who we see in a flashback of Rob picking her up from a rehab center, did not do much for me. The initial scene with the two of them arguing grated on me. It seemed to spring up out of nowhere and felt a bit obligatory, about as subtle as a jackhammer.
Jim: I agree completely with you that Martha Plimpton’s role as Robyn’s Mom is dramatic overkill of the first order. The effort to fill out the four leading ladies’ back stories in S2 is obviously the season’s main thrust, and at times it exceeds itself. I liked Amanda Abbington’s role as Eve’s Mom a lot more, where there was something actively happening between them, something from a place of growth.
As much as I enjoyed S2 of Flack, I have to say it hasn’t stuck with me the same as Hacks. Other than its centerpiece episodes in the center of S2, it’s more spectacle than drama. It’s a fun ride, but cheap. Hacks is far more filmic, a beautifully produced comedy with a heart of gold.
At the heart of this conversation, I wanted to talk about Adult Material, since it’s something I stumbled across at HBO and was completely blown away by. It seems like you responded to it pretty favorably as well. Originally produced for Channel 4 in the UK, it’s a four-part, three-and-a-half hour limited series about a seasoned adult film star, Jolene Dollar (her stage name; her real name is Hayley Burrows), performed by Hayley Squires, who gets caught up in something that happens on set to a newbie colleague, which effectively unravels her career, her family life, and her health.
How did it strike you? What makes this show work so amazingly well?
Jeff: Yeah, hey man, thanks so much for performing your main duty on earth and recommending Adult Material to me.
It was an incredibly refreshing four-episode romp through the wildly interesting, yet odd world of pornography. I enjoyed the unabashed approach towards the subject the show takes. It has a very boots (pumps)-on-the-ground camera angle and an amazing lead in Hayley who drives around in a pink Mercedes soft-top.
I’d have to say what strikes me the most about the show is that as soon as my conditioned ape brain pigeon-holes a certain character, that character immediately does something completely unexpected, like when Amy slowly turns and stabs Tom with a kitchen knife.
That and this way the story comes off as very realistic, in that it reflects how most people are in everyday life. A decision in this direction here, a decision that way there, most people don’t make all good decisions (whatever good is, right?) or all bad/not-so-good decisions. In this way the show makes a good run at blurring the actual idea of “character”.
Tell me something unique you sensed in the show and at what point you decided to rec it to me?
Jim: I decided to rec it to you about five minutes into the first episode. I thought, Oh, Jeff’s gonna like this…
I’ll second your observation about character unpredictability. In my review at Letterboxd I said the show does well at “defying absolutes,” which is another way of saying that nothing is fixed, or fixable. There’s a real outside-looking-in quality to the show. You come to realize very early on that none of these people are who you expect them to be, and, more importantly, they aren’t who the other characters expect them to be (we know things about Amy, for instance, that Hayley never knows). But part of what’s so brilliant about it is that that uncertainty hangs with the main characters through the entire four episodes. You never really get to know any of them, even after all this time watching them. There’s always the sense that you’re running to catch up with these characters, to figure them out, before they go off and do something that again blows up your whole idea of who they are. As you say, that’s reality, how our observations of others, and ourselves, always are. You’re always running to catch up with people, even the ones closest to you.
Siena Kelly’s Amy, for instance, remains entirely opaque. Is she a complete psycho, extraordinarily naïve and immature, or tragically damaged? Hayley is always a moving target. There’s no question she’s a kind and good-hearted person, who genuinely loves the people closest to her, at home, on set making porn movies, or fulfilling online orders, but who is she with relation to herself? That’s what’s always so hard to pin down with her. We learn a couple things about her youth later in the story that go a long way to giving us an insight into how she sees herself. She tells a story about how her single Mom’s poor parenting left her alone to find her own ways of coping with things, of which sex was the most useful, and empowering, tool. For this reason, how she comprehends her own sexual self, as we see repeatedly, is pretty muddled.
I’ve read a bunch of reviews of the show, both from critics and fans, and I was surprised that little attention is given to Amy, and almost none to Kerry Godliman’s tremendous performance as Stella, the disgraced MP, who becomes Hayley’s unexpected champion (bet you didn’t see that one coming, either), both of whom are, in my opinion, as critical to the story as Hayley/Jolene. And there’s Hayley’s daughter Phoebe, too, who functions as a fascinating mirror image of Hayley herself. I could go on about these characters at length, they’re so rich, but we gotta keep it tight here. How did they work in the story for you? Who are they?
Jeff: Well, I’m with you on Godliman’s Stella. Her character pulls the huge about face, and her acting here sells it. Stella, in fact, if I remember correctly, is who gets Jolene fired up to pursue the lawsuit originally. Her repeated, stony reactions to Hayley’s playful kisses and flirting towards her based on her scandalous (lol) lesbian porn tendencies are an absolute riot. And Amy, yeah, goes from feeling incredibly naive and sweet to really creepy. I have the funny feeling she is portraying a not so uncommon entity in this world.
As far as the story, it works well for me, especially in the personal relationships department. People who are acquaintances act like they’re friends, until shit happens, then they’re not. That’s very real. The daughter-mother relationship is an interesting look at something you always wonder about…how does a porn star relate to her children? And how does their actual work incur tons of blowback from other kids.
The whole lawsuit part, while well-played, always nagged at me, but I think it was supposed to. To try to nail down ethics and morals in the world of pornography (or finance, law and corporate anything, for that matter) is a slippery bugger, as Hayley has been telling herself all these years. But where the show really shines its light is during the 4th episode. Whether it’s Amy and Hayley’s arguments full of Amy lying and Hayley promising on her children she was telling the truth, then lying and stating “I was lying!” right back at her, which is great because all Amy’s done since they met was lie to Hayley. As for Hayley losing the lawsuit she didn’t really want to get into, claiming that Tom Pain had raped her when she was Amy’s age, then agreeing to do anal with Tom to make back the money she lost trying to convict him… I mean, that’s just hardcore REALITY.
Hayley just always does what she needs to do to keep on keepin’ on, and she isn’t afraid of much and already has the public armor of a veteran porn-star. in many ways, she is what we all wish we could be, free of our own restraints.
Jim: The subject at the center of the show is about consent. There’s the legal consent at question regarding the lawsuit, and whether that outweighs the issue of “grievous bodily harm”, meaning Amy’s anal prolapse, while she’s under the care of Bang Cherry. But the real question about consent pertains to the personal kind. There are three instances of non-consensual sex that happen. Hayley’s daughter Phoebe wakes up one morning in bed with her boyfriend Paulie, and discovers he’s fucking her, to which she obviously didn’t consent. Then the American porn stud Tom Pain rapes Amy, after which she casually stabs him with a carving knife. And third, which happened years prior, Tom Pain raped Hayley, in an incident that’s nearly identical to what he did to Amy, although neither woman knows that about the other. What is consent in the minds of people to whom sex is more a sport than anything? I always think of that scene in Boogie Nights, at one of the parties, where a circle of spectators form around a couple having a go in the driveway. Sex is sport, a spectacle, a performance, something they’re always trying to perfect. Of course consent should operate there like anywhere, but it won’t be an easy fit.
Hayley’s conception of consent is atrocious, which she comes to terms with. She lets her daughter’s boyfriend Paulie off the hook because he’s a boy, with boy urges, and tells Phoebe she needs to be firm about limits. She’s halfway there. As for her own rape by Tom Pain, she refuses to call it that, because she despises being labeled a victim. But I imagine the real reason she won’t call it rape is because she’s Jolene Dollar, and nobody gets one over on her. So long as she’s in charge, no act of sex is a violation, which is just fucked up. Watching Squires play Burrows as she wrestles with this, as she realizes who was really in charge, during the final episode, is pretty awesome. Hayley Squires doesn’t leave anything on the set. For anyone wanting more of her, watch Ken Loach’s I, Daniel Blake. It’s fantastic. She was in Ben Wheatley’s latest, In the Earth, in a latecomer role that does not disappoint. She has a gift.
Moving on, we chose for the oldies segment of this edition of Wiping Up, meaning any content more than a year old, Tarantino’s Jackie Brown from 1997. I had not yet conceived of Tarantino as an identifiable entity, or as an auteur, when I first saw JB. I just remember loving it and informally considering it QT’s best. Then last weekend I re-watched it, and fell in love for real. My enthusiasm prompted you to re-watch it, and, I think, enjoy it as well. How do you place this in the overall QT oeuvre? Talk to me about watching JB again.
Jeff: Well, apparently it’s been roughly 20 years since I’d seen this film so it was pretty much a first watch, with these eyes.
Yeah it’s funny that as JB‘s first 20 minutes or so unfold you’re not quite sure what you’re watching, in QT terms. It strikes me as the film where he is attempting to pivot somewhat from Pulp Fiction but hasn’t gone all Kill Bill yet. And I may be wrong but is this his only film adapted from another’s story (Elmore Leonard)? That struck me the most during opening credit “walk”. Which would explain a lot about why this film feels a little different than others. What really grabbed me most about the film was the cast and their acting. From Samuel L. and Pam Grier, to Robert De Niro and Bridget Fonda, to Robert Forster and Michael Keaton, the film is packed with great performances and relationships. It also features, I believe, Quentin’s first fully fleshed out complex female character, Jackie Brown. And oh what a character she is. You’ve gotta give me your rundown on Pam’s Jackie, Jim.
Jim: I think you’re right that some of what makes Jackie Brown feel unique in QT’s body of work is that it’s an adaptation, so it’s not populated by the typical characters we see in a lot of his films. Jackie’s a middle-age flight attendant working for a discount airline, always one fuck-up away from losing everything. She’s a wily survivor, but not overly so. I love that about all the characters. They’re regular working people, some good at what they do, some not, but none of them are exaggerated. Jackie’s relationship with Max Cherry, the bail bondsman, is rendered so well. He’s infatuated with her (as any warm-blooded person would be – it’s Pam-fucking-Grier, after all), but he’s classy and always plays it cool. She knows how he feels, probably doesn’t feel the same in return, but she likes him, and he’s good to her, so she’s always cool with him. It’s a really wonderful, honest, no-bullshit friendship. I think that’s why, when she asks him in the end if he’ll drop everything and come live with her in Spain, and he declines, it’s such a moving moment. He hasn’t spent all this time just lusting after her and doing whatever she wants him to do, but learning about her and becoming her friend. He’s also a mature man in his fifties, who knows himself too well. All that informs his decision to say no, to not chase some ridiculous fantasy that will only sour the cool relationship they’ve developed.
There’s a Jack Hill film from 1974 called Foxy Brown, starring Pam Grier, which Tarantino is clearly referencing, though the stories don’t have anything in common. I think it’s mostly just QT’s penchant for ‘70s homage, and in this case blaxploitation films. Another Jack Hill film starring Grier, Coffy, also casts her as this kick-ass woman out for revenge, which is precisely not who she is in Jackie Brown. I mean, she’s tough, and she doesn’t suffer fools, but she’s not that absurdly silly take-no-prisoners hard-ass that she is in those films. The title font of Jackie Brown is identical to Foxy Brown.
Jeff: First I need to slightly retract my comment on JB being QT’s first complex female character as there is Uma’s Mia from PF, my bad.
The thing I loved most about Jackie (Grier) was how she used her natural gifts, physical and intellectual, to pull all the men just far enough away from their natural perches to get one over on them. And Max, yeah, Max just likes her and doesn’t mind helping her use him….though at the moment he gets out of the mall with the bag of money and gets in his car, smiles, and leaves, I was cracking up thinking of that ending….Thanks, Jackie! Fuck ya later! and just taking off with it….roll credits.
Now, De Niro (Louis) being a bum straight out of jail, hanging with Ordell (Jackson), and being turned into a stoner by Fonda’s Melanie, it was just cracking me up the whole way. And the Louis and Melanie relationship sloppily blossoms into a riot especially once they hit the mall for the “drop/pick-up”. “Oh, did you forget where you parked, Louis, you’re so old and stupid”. I love how QT shows us this crucial scene three different times from each of the main players perspective. And in doing it so we are able to see the layers of JB’s plan unfold….slowly….rhythmically, so we are actually able to get it.
You asked me to rank JB in the Hall of QT. I’m not really one for numeric ranking but I’d put JB somewhere right around the middle or slightly above. Good point Jim on the characters being slightly different because it’s an adaptation. That’s definitely a big reason why this film feels different. There are more fun QT films in my mind but I do think there is something refreshing in the natural progression of a singular plan here that, in the end, makes this film a little more rewarding than some of his others. In a lot of tangential ways, JB reminds me most of The Hateful Eight, and I love that film.
Jim: You really think Thurman’s Mia in Pulp Fiction is complex? Maybe I read her wrong. Wouldn’t be my first time with a Tarantino film. Anyhow, Jackie Brown, yeah. It’s a fun-as-fuck film. Let’s make a date to return to it in-perpetuity.
That’s it for Wiping Up Two, my brother. Keep your eyes out for the next cool series to binge, so we can talk about it here.
Jeff: Yep, yep, eyes open…always moving, searching, and devouring. Just as likely it’ll be The White Lotus.
It’s been great, hoser.