Kumail Nanjiani is, at long last, ready to talk. He is, after all these years, finally* breaking his silence. It’s here, today, that he throws caution to the wind and speaks openly and candidly about two subjects that he’s never discussed publicly before: the 1982 Don Coscarelli film The Beastmaster, and the 1983 Peter Yates epic, Krull.

*So, when this interview was being set up, Nanjiani mentioned that he wanted a break from the more standard set of questions about his new film, in which he co-stars with Issa Rae that premieres on Netflix this week, The Lovebirds. A movie in which Nanjiani and Rae play a couple on the verge of breaking up who, after witnessing a murder, are thrust into an all night adventure in the seedy underbelly of New Orleans. Which, as Nanjiani pointed out, does lead to a question like, “Was there any improv on set?,” more than you’d probably think. When I asked him what he wanted to talk about instead, the speed in which he replied The Beastmaster and Krull was pretty remarkable. So, it was set, we’d both rewatch The Beastmaster and Krull – two movies neither of us have seen since we were children – and discuss what these movies are like watching through adult eyes.

As for the title, about a week ago there was an article about Matt Damon living in quarantine in Ireland and the headline was something like, “Matt Damon breaks his silence about living in Ireland,” and I just thought it was perfect and wanted one of my own. So here it is.

Are you finally ready to break your silence about The Beastmaster and Krull?

Yes.

That should be the headline. Accompanied with a photo where you look somewhat forlorn like, “I’ve got something important to say.”

Yes, exactly. I finally worked up the courage to talk about this. I know you’ve been waiting.

Just like Matt Damon breaking his silence about living in an Irish village.

People have been beating down his door.

I haven’t seen either of these movies since I was a little kid. But rewatching now, Rip Torn is the villain in The Beastmaster. I had no idea.

Obviously, I didn’t know who Rip Torn was back then. But I think of Rip Torn as such a contemporary personality. And then he’s playing some sort of evil priest. I think he’s a religious sorcerer, but we don’t see him do any actual magic.

His magic trick is picking up children and throwing them into fire. He does this a few times. It is an evil thing to do.

He hates children. He is very cool just murdering children.

This movie is disturbing. I do remember a kid being scared of those creatures that have the wings that turn people into slime.

Yeah, they do an external digestion thing. I did not remember that. First of all, when you said disturbing, I thought you were going to talk about the sexual assault that our hero lays on the heroin the first time he meets her. He has his ferret steal her clothes as she’s bathing naked. Then he forces a kiss on her. It’s like, really?

Yeah, Kodo and Podo steal her clothes. Overall, this movie is a lot more, let’s say, “erotic” than I remember? I’m surprised my parents were cool with me watching this on a neverending loop.

I know. As I was watching it, I understood why nine-year-old Kumail was very intrigued by this movie. The other thing I want to say is I think Kodo and Podo steal the movie. The entire time I was like, if anything happens to these two little fuckers, I’m going to be so upset. Then Kodo or Podo sacrifices himself to kill Rip Torn.

That was Kodo. Then Podo has kids at the end.

Right. There are more Kodo’s coming.

My memory of Kodo’s death is much more graphic. In reality he just kind of jumps at Rip Torn then they both fall and that’s it.

In little Mike’s brain that was all filled in. What I remember most about this movie was, and I didn’t realize until I watched, was the eye and the ring. That was the image. As soon as that came on, I was like this is burned into some part of my brain. By the way, eye in a ring is the most obvious spy tool ever. Obviously, that thing is checking out what you’re doing. The eye, put shades on it.

Right, it’s a ring with a giant eyeball, just looking around. And to kill it, John Amos uses a flaming hot wood stick poker. And even an eyeball inside a ring, it’s really gross to see it hit with a flaming stick.

And it’s cool when it gets hit by the stick, and then it cuts to the witch woman getting it in her eye. I thought that was a cool image. What I noticed was that this was directed by Don Coscarelli, who has done a lot of great horror movies. You could definitely see that a horror director made this because there are horrifying things in this movie. Like the winged people who do the external digestion, as you were saying.

Yeah, I don’t like them at all. So, Marc Singer…

Yes!

If you told me back then that in 2020 Marc Singer isn’t the most famous actor on earth right now, I would have be shocked. He’s Beastmaster and he’s Mike Donovan in V.

Yeah, exactly. At that time, I think he was looking in the mirror going, “This shit is too easy.”

Mike Donovan in V was my first Marc Singer experience and when I first saw him…

“The Mark Singer Experience” is pretty good title…

You should title your next podcast that.

What were you going to say when you first saw him in V?

Well, he just looks like this normal guy in V. And then you see him in The Beastmaster and he’s huge. Then I watched V again and it’s like, oh, yes, he’s huge, but he’s just wearing clothes.

Yeah, I was surprised watching The Beastmaster. I knew Marc Singer was in both, but re-watching The Beastmaster now, I was surprised at how big he is in the movie. He looks the part in V because in my head I was like, “Oh, they took normal city guy,” which is how I remembered my Mike Donovan.

I think Mike Donovan was a television cameraman?

Yeah. He was just a normal guy. And I was like, “What? They put him in The Beastmaster?“ When I started watching it last week, I was expecting it to be a guy who’s a little soft around the edges, but he looks great. He looks like a barbarian!

Are you at a stage now with your workout regiment where you look at Marc Singer and you’re comparing notes? Do you think, “I know what he did. I know how he got to Beastmaster shape”?

Yes. I was thinking it the entire time I was watching the movie. This is embarrassing to admit, but I was like, “Okay. He stayed away from carbs and he dehydrated himself a little bit. I know what kind of workout you did.”

Were you thinking to yourself, finally in your life you could go pound for pound with the Beastmaster?

Nowadays, when you’re doing a movie like that, you prep for the one day where you’re going to be shirtless. That dude was shirtless the entire time. Watching the movie was actually a stressful experience for me, because I imagined that he had to watch his diet the entire time. This movie was shot, I looked it up, for five and a half months.

What?

Five and a half months that dude had to eat like that!

How many pushups do we think Marc Singer did on set?

I bet he could do a hundred pushups without pausing. And I bet he did those once every other hour or so.

Rip Torn, the main enemy of the movie dies, and I swear I thought that movie was over. It goes on for like another 30 minutes.

Oh my God!

They just keep fighting people. I don’t even know where they were coming from.

I remember when Rip Torn died, I was like, listen, I enjoyed the movie, but I was like, Okay, I can live my life now. And then I hit to see how much time was left and it was about another 25 minutes. It’s crazy that the main bad guy, whose name we know, whose face we can see, is killed and then the faceless bad guys show up.

It would be like killing Darth Vader. And then, well, I guess we need to spend 45 minutes killing Stormtroopers.

Exactly! You’re like, “Kodo is dead! What else is left to do?”

What are your thoughts on Krull? God, what a weird thing we’re doing…

Okay, here’s my thoughts on Krull! Krull, I was very excited of the theme anesthetic of this movie. It’s swords and lasers! I love Masters of the Universe. It’s got technology and magic. Immediately I’m like, I love this. In the beginning, there’s a couple of surprises in the credits. You’ve got Liam Neeson.

Right. Liam Neeson’s in this movie. It was just like Rip Torn in a “what are you doing here?” way.

Liam Neeson in a pretty small part of the movie, too. He and Robbie Coltrane are sort of in the gang and not big members of the good army. They’re sort of fringe members. And I thought that the beast, the main bad guy in this, looked awesome. I thought the design of the black fortress – which is the spaceship capital of the bad guy, with the matte paintings and stuff – I thought that that was awesome. I was very surprised at the overlaps in both movies. Both movies have prophecies, obviously. Very prophecy heavy movies. Both movies have eye stuff. In the first one, you have an eye in the ring. In the second one, you have the cyclops, which is the image that I remember really well from this movie. And then both movies have quicksand in them, too.

Yes, these are both quicksand movies. Quicksand used to be very popular.

Which can explain why I was terrified. Oh my God. This explains why I was terrified of quicksand as a kid. I really thought I’d encounter it in my life.

So, there were a lot of moments in The Beastmaster I remembered. I didn’t have that with Krull except one. The advertising for Krull focused on the weapon, which is called Glaive and looks incredibly cool. About 100 minutes into Krull I was like, “When is he going to use Glaive?!?” Which is the same reaction I had as a kid. He doesn’t use that thing until the end.

Yeah. If you have that, just use it all the time!

Well, he wants to use it right away! And then his trainer is like, “No, you can’t use that. You’ll know when to use it.” Apparently, that’s two hours later.

Also I thought that the weapon was named Krull because, in my defense, in the beginning, you see the weapon spinning around, and as it goes by it leaves the title of the movie behind. I was like, okay, it’s spelling out its name as it exits screen right. But it’s called the Glaive. Krull is the name of the planet. I don’t like that.

See, I thought the guy was named Krull. Ken Marshall, who plays the lead character, Colwyn, when he shows up I was like, “Here comes Krull. He’s going to save the day.” I knew the weapon was called something else, but I couldn’t remember what it was called. But I thought the guy was Krull.

What’s his name?

Colwyn.

What?

Colwyn. C-O-L-W-Y-N.

And Beastmaster’s name is like Arg or Barg, or something like that?

Dar.

Gosh.

These iconic characters today that we can’t forget.

[Laughs] Yes. Oh my God. Now they have to be like, “Are you a Dar, or are you a Colwyn?”

Nothing against Ken Marshall who played Colwyn, do you think there was any moment on set Peter Yates. who directed this thing, was like, “Oh man, we really should’ve maybe cast that Liam Neeson guy as the main guy”?

Exactly.

Anytime Liam Neeson has a line, you can tell he’s really good.

I would watch him in the background of scenes and even when he had no lines, he was fully present, really giving it his all. He was pulling focus without being the focus just by being such a great actor. Also, I was surprised to realize that Krull is a much bigger budget movie than The Beastmaster was. In my memory I was like, “Krull‘s the low budget one and The Beastmaster was a huge movie.” It’s the other way around.

The other thing I kept thinking, Peter Suschitzky is the cinematographer, who was also the DP on The Empire Strikes Back. I wonder when he’s filming if he’s thinking, “I know what they’re going for, but this ain’t it.”

Right. Exactly. This was definitely a “you’re no Jack Kennedy moment.”

So, some two hours later Colwyn finally uses the Glaive and it basically just bounces off some rocks and knocks some rocks down. Then it stabs the bad guy, but doesn’t kill him. The bad guys like, whatever, and just dismisses it. Then Colwyn shoots fire out of his hand and kills the bad guy.

It’s a lot of mixed messaging. The fire out of his hand, you forgot before the fire scene, while the beast is there, he and the princess have a weird romantic moment that they take their time with before he shoots the fire.

Right. She somehow hands him the fire.

Yes, that’s right. This movie really leans into the romantic chemistry between Colwyn, and … Lyssa?

Princess Lyssa, yes.

This is the emotional spine of Krull, that relationship. That movie starts with the two of them and it ends with the two of them. They had sizzling romantic chemistry, and I think they really missed the trick in separating them for most of the movie.

[We are told there’s time for one last question.]

Was there any improv on the set of Lovebirds?

[Laughs] No, we just stuck exactly to the script.

‘Lovebirds’ begins streaming via Netflix on May 22. You can contact Mike Ryan directly on Twitter.

No band I ostensibly like annoys me more than The 1975. They annoy me so much that I can probably no longer accurately describe myself as a fan. If this is where I exit the bandwagon, it might as well be with their most bloated and self-important album, the forthcoming 22-track, 80-minute Notes On A Conditional Form, due out Friday.

Before we get into that, however, let’s revisit happier times: I remember being a defender of this band after their infamous performance on Saturday Night Live in 2016. I truly got a kick out of Matty Healy’s “non-satirical Aldous Snow” shtick — the naked torso, the leather pants, the crotch-thrusting, the tongue-wagging. Here was a guy who was seemingly smart enough to realize that he was the frontman of an enjoyably dumb pop-rock band, and he was having an absolute blast with it. They were like a hipper, more self-aware Imagine Dragons. Their reach exceeded their grasp, sure, but perhaps by reaching too far they would eventually stumble upon greatness.

Unfortunately, The 1975 had already hit their peak. Their second and best album, I Like It When You Sleep, For You Are So Beautiful Yet So Unaware of It — I even found that album title charming back then! — set a template that each subsequent 1975 album has followed. For all of the talk about this band’s eclecticism, and how it supposedly reflects the omnivorous musical tastes of an entire generation, their last three albums are actually strikingly similar. You start with a core of three to five singles that are essentially homages to the most critically reputable music of the ’80s and ’90s. And then you surround those bangers with a whole lot of filler that falls into one of three categories: middling R&B ballads, sleepy ambient “soundscape” pieces, and hit-or-miss copycat genre exercises.

This is not a successful formula for producing albums that are worth playing from beginning to end. It is, however, effective for a group that is interested more in signifiers than originality. The 1975’s most praised track, “Love It If We Made It” from 2018’s An Inquiry Into Online Relationships, is the ultimate example of this. By piling so many references to Internet culture ephemera on top of each other, “Love It If We Made It” seems to say something profound about all of this without actually ever saying anything at all.

It’s kind of genius, creating such an irresistible and intellectually blank canvas for culture writers to project their pet thinkpiece themes. (Full disclosure: I fell for it, too.) But what is the actual point of view of “Love It If We Made It”? What does this song say beyond “we’re all screwed on the Internet,” which frankly is something anybody on social media can tell you? Isn’t it just … a bunch of memes? This will sound like backhanded praise but I truly mean it as a compliment: The 1975 are extremely good at being superficial. When they stick to that, they can be very good. Get in and out with a perfect piece of four-minute fluff like “Love Me” or “The Sound” and I’m thoroughly delighted. However, The 1975 now see themselves as deep, and it has completely undermined what was so likable about them in the beginning.

During the album cycle for Notes On A Conditional Form — which kicked off 10 months ago (!) with the release of the album’s spoken-word opening track featuring environmental activist Greta Thunberg — Healy has come off like a man high on his own supply of recent music-critic plaudits. He has matter-of-factly declared The 1975 “the definitive band” of the 2010s, complimenting himself on “fucking up mainstream discourse” with his art while chastising musicians who play in bands that aren’t massively successful, because “it’s not aspirational; it’s a hobby.”

Now, as an avowed fan of artists like Billy Corgan and Noel Gallagher, I’m not averse to arrogant rock-star behavior. I tend to find bombastic interviews highly amusing. But even at their most delusional, Corgan never believed that “Tonight, Tonight” was going to end global warming, nor did Gallagher ever claim that “Wonderwall” was “fucking up the mainstream discourse.” They were both, in other words, smart enough to realize that they were in enjoyably dumb pop-rock bands, and acted accordingly.

Healy, however, has come to see himself as an oracle for our troubled times. “Upon reflection, there was an almost eerie feeling when recording it,” he whispered to Vulture about the making of Conditional Form. To GQ, he mused, “I suppose the question is: Can this center really hold? I’m not prophesying or predicting anything. I’m just saying: This shit feels fucking weird now”

It sure does, Matty. But after spending some time with Notes On A Conditional Form, I’m at a loss to pinpoint many (if any) moments from this album that feel eerie or predictive or even accidentally insightful about life under quarantine. If I’m feeling charitable, I could point to the skittering, low-key social anxiety ode “Frail State Of Mind,” which opens with the lyric, “Go outside? Seems unlikely.” If I’m feeling very charitable, I could also include another skittering, low-key electro-pop song, “Yeah I Know,” and this rather nondescript lyrical aside: “Time feels like it’s changed, I don’t feel the same.” Otherwise, the most explicitly political lyric on this album comes in the unconvincing fake-punk song, “People,” in which Healy screams (with a welcome lack of enunciation), “Well, my generation wanna fuck Barack Obama / Living in a sauna with legal marijuana.” Eerie, indeed.

If Healy isn’t exactly envisioning our dystopian future, what is he writing? Rom-coms. Many of these songs are excuses for Healy to play the lovable rapscallion in pursuit of a comely object of affection, like the self-explanatory “Tonight (I Wish I Was Your Boy)” or the amiably bouncy “If You’re Too Shy (Let Me Know),” which literally sounds like a rip-off of the Pretty Woman soundtrack. “I see her online, all the time, I’m trying not to stare ‘down there,’ while she talks about her tough time,” Healy purrs. “Girl of your dreams, know what I mean?”

I don’t have a problem with rom-coms. I like rom-coms! It’s just that Hugh Grant doesn’t claim to be Noam Chomsky when he makes Notting Hill. But the main fault of Notes On A Conditional Form isn’t that the lyrics don’t come to delivering on the pompous boasts from Healy’s interviews. It’s that the album is so preposterously lumpy, with way too many songs that simply don’t need to be there. The first half is particularly murderous: It starts with that Greta Thunberg track, which goes on (and on) for five minutes. Then it’s the shouty “People,” then an orchestral interlude, then the pleasant but sluggish “Frail State Of Mind,” then another orchestral interlude.

By my estimation, it takes about a half-hour for Conditional Form to gain momentum — perhaps that’s forgivable for a 10-episode Netflix series, but it’s a disaster for an album. But even the tracklisting is a signifier with this band, and what it’s meant to communicate is “we are ambitious, and we make grand, important statements.” That’s another lesson Healy should have learned from Corgan and the Gallaghers: At some point, bombastic arena-rock acts stop making better albums, and instead make longer albums. Spending 80 minutes with The 1975 makes them less endearing, not more.

After immersing myself in this behemoth, it became painfully clear just how derivative The 1975 are. As Healy himself has admitted, “The way that I write music is that I listen to a song I love and I copy it,” and you can hear examples of that kind of “songcraft” all over Conditional Form, whether it’s the transparent Pinegrove homage (with the wincing Pinegrove lyrical reference) “The Birthday Party,” or the callow Bon Iver tribute “Don’t Worry.” Sometimes, he simply inserts himself into someone else’s sonic world without bothering to eject the originator, like the ridiculously titled “Jesus Christ 2005 God Bless America,” in which an otherwise affecting Phoebe Bridgers song about unrequited love is subsumed by The 1975. If this is artistic invention, then Dracula was “artistically inventive” when he subsisted on the blood of his victims.

If The 1975 were untalented, I probably wouldn’t find them annoying. But this band’s slide into insufferable boorishness has made it impossible for me to enjoy the qualities I once responded to: their humor, their shameless bravado, the knack for familiar but inviting melodies. It’s that very frustration that fuels my ire. At this point, a more noble experiment for The 1975 would be to write an album where every song is good, or at least necessary. They haven’t done that yet.

Notes On A Conditional Form is out on 5/22 via Dirty Hit. Get it here.

Let’s get achingly real. Many of us are probably drinking a little bit more than usual at the moment. The phrase “to take the edge off” has never felt quite so potent. After all, alcohol — in moderation — can be a hell of a stress reducer. God knows we’re all plenty stressed.

We understand if you need a drink on a Tuesday afternoon, is what we’re saying. And whether you’re mixing a cocktail or just enjoying a dram on the rocks, having a good bottle of whiskey or rum or brandy on hand is a good call during these trying times.

Since tasting alcohol is a big part of what we do around here, we thought we’d let our audience know what we’ve been sipping on during the quarantine. These aren’t necessarily the best or cheapest or most expensive bottles of any one thing. They’re just the bottles we find ourselves appreciating right now. They’re all also easy to have delivered if you’re interested in trying them out yourself.

Cheers!

Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Straight Rye Whiskey

ABV: 45%
Distillery: Jack Daniel’s Distillery, Lynchburg, TN
Average Price: $25

The Bottle:

Jack Daniel’s broke with tradition back in 2017 and started making a new whiskey for the first time in generations. Their straight rye goes through the same process as a classic Tennessee whiskey, meaning the hot juice is filtered through sugar maple charcoal before aging. This process adds a level of refinement to the whiskey that helps it shine brighter than the standard Jack.

Tasting Notes:

Toasted rye, vanilla, and oak lead into a feeling of bananas simmered off in brown sugar and butter with a hint of smoke. Apples stewed in Christmas spices mingle with a note of bitter dark chocolate cut with cream on the palate. The black pepper rye rises near the end, with a finish that luxuriates in oakiness. – Zach Johnston

Cardenal Mendoza Solera Gran Reserva Brandy

ABV: 40%
Distillery: Sánchez Romate Hnos., Jerez, Spain
Average Price: $55

The Bottle:

Times like these call for brandy. This Spanish brandy is aged for an average of 15 years in both Oloroso and Pedro Ximénez sherry casks. The throughline of this brandy is the Airen grapes used as a base. This is a bold Spanish masterpiece in a bottle.

Tasting Notes:

The sherry is prominent at first with a hint of orange zest next to dark chocolate. That bitterness leans into wet coffee grounds aligned with a real nut fattiness, vinous dried fruits, mild spice, and a clear sense of a well-seasoned barrel. The fruit lingers with a slight sweetness as the nuttiness, bitterness, and oakiness cut a line on the finish that’s slightly dry. – Zach Johnston

Ardbeg An Oa

ABV: 46.6%
Distillery: Ardbeg Distillery, Isle of Islay, Argyll, Scotland
Average Price: $55

The Bottle:

If you’ve been lucky enough to visit the Scottish Hebrides island of Islay, or if you’ve just had a chance to sip on some of the whisky made there, you’re likely well aware of Ardbeg. One of the smokiest of the peat-smoked whiskies from the windswept, sheep-filled island, Ardbeg 10 is a home bar staple. If you want to branch out, we suggest you grab a bottle of Ardbeg An Oa. Named for the Mull of Oa and its breathtaking views of the Kildaton coast, this 2017 addition to the core brands is perfect for fans who like their whisky smoky and sweet at the same time.

Tasting Notes:

It’s not unusual to age a Scotch whisky in ex-bourbon barrels. But An Oa takes it one step further and matures its juice in not only bourbon barrels, but charred virgin oak barrels, and Pedro Ximénez sherry butts. The result is a multi-layered whisky that appeals to peated whisky fans and bourbon fans alike. From the first sip, you’re met with the tobacco and vegetal smokiness expected from an Islay malt. But the flavor profile soon moves to sweet, candied fruits, rich honey, and cinnamon heat before ending with a subtle hint of cigar smoke. – Christopher Osburn

Copper & Kings American Craft Brandy

ABV: 45%
Distillery: Copper & Kings American Brandy Co, Louisville, Kentucky
Average Price: $40

The Bottle:

If your knowledge of alcohol doesn’t go much farther than brands named Jim, Jack, or Johnnie, you might not realize that a ton of high-quality craft brandy has begun to emerge over the last few years. Copper & Kings, located in the “Butchertown” area of Louisville makes artisanal absinthe, gin, and brandy. The literal kings of the American brandy movement, their flagship brandy is a grape-based eau de vie (just like Cognac) that ages in a combination of ex-bourbon barrels and new charred American oak barrels.

Tasting Notes:

If you want to get on board with American brandy, this is the bottle to pick up. This solera-aged offering is smooth and sweet — the perfect brandy for bourbon fans to get their foot in the door. The first sip of full of rich, sticky toffee pudding, and honey flavors before moving on to subtle floral hints. It evolves into charred oak and cigar smoke before progressing into just a hint of peppery spice.

The dram all ends in a long crescendo of silky vanilla. – Christopher Osburn

WhistlePig 10-Year-Old Straight Rye

ABV: 50%
Distillery: WhistlePig
Average Price: $75

The Bottle:

The crew at WhistlePig discovered a cache of powerful rye whiskey stock in Canada, which was originally destined for blending, and brought it to their farm in Vermont to give it a more independent existence — aging it in virgin American white oak. The result is the most awarded rye whiskey in the world.

Tasting Notes:

Like any great rye it bites, but then leads into an amazing vanilla sweetness on the tongue. Next comes a welcome explosion of spice, cinnamon, and spice. The finish is a lingering caramel warmth, like a maple log on the campfire. – Charles Thorp

Solento Organic Tequila Blanco

ABV: 40%
Distillery: Amititan, Jalisco, Mexico
Average Price: $60

The Bottle:

The organic blue agave for Solento is harvested in small batches by the Montes family jimadors. Their estate has been producing tequila from the Las Americas distillery for over 60 years, and they do it in the most sustainable way possible. That is why Solento founder, and surf film legend, Taylor Steele partnered with them for his brand. The agave is cooked in brick ovens, extracted using a roller mill, fermented in the open air, and double distilled.

Tasting Notes:

During the harvesting process they cut out as much of the bitter stem as possible, so the tequila that is left is sweet with notes of vanilla right off the bat, with the essence of the fields and straw. On the taste, there is a clear citrus presence that pops on the back of the tongue. Smooth enough to drink straight, but best over a few rocks and a lemon slice. – Charles Thorp

Kō Hana Hawaiian Agricole Rum

ABV: 45%
Distillery: Manulele Distillers, Kunia O’ahu, Hawai’i
Average Price: $55

The Bottle:

If your conception of rum was formed by Bacardi and Malibu it’s time to try some good stuff. I love to have a nice glass of sippin’ rum with an ice cube on a nice Summer night and pretend I’m somewhere tropical.

As I learned at the Caribbean Food & Rum Festival, there are two main types of rum — the kind distilled from molasses-like the English and Spanish did it, and the kind distilled from sugar cane juice as the French did it. The latter is usually labeled “rhum” or rum agricole. Rum agricole is typically more complex and fruitier than molasses-based rum, which has a more chocolatey flavor. To be honest, I thought agricole was too complex for my palate at first — until I tried this KoHana “Hawaiian Agricole” rum on O’ahu. They distill from heirloom varieties of native Hawaiian sugar cane (most sugar comes from just a few varieties) and like many things native to Hawai’i, you probably haven’t had anything quite like it.

Tasting Notes:

Oak barrel-aging gives this one bourbon-esque flavors like cinnamon, vanilla, caramel, and warm spice. – Vince Mancini

Carbonadi Vodka

ABV: 40%
Distillery: House of Carbonadi, Italy
Average Price: $90

The Bottle:

The debate over vodka for the past decade or so has been: is there really such thing as “top shelf” when it comes to this spirit? The answer has been mixed. On one hand, the difference between a standard Russian vodka (like, say, Russian Standard) and mid-tier brands that might look cooler in the VIP section of a club seems to be pretty slim. That said, vodka, like any spirit, has a process through which its made and that process can be refined and clarified to a pretty high degree.

Carbonadi is going for the highest degree of refinement. The (pretty damn pricey) Italian brand not only carries the unique terroir of wheat grown in the Piedmont region of Italy, but it also has a unique production process that finishes with “carbonado filtration.” In short, that means the spirit is pushed through porous “black diamonds” (!!!) before it gets to the bottle, resulting in an ultra-refined final product — a process which sounds like it could be both marketing-speak and scientifically legit at the same time.

Tasting Notes:

There’s no way to get a good bead on this product without blind taste testing it, so I drank a shot of Carbonadi next to a shot of Kettle One and a shot of Grey Goose (after having them mixed up by my partner). I picked out the Carbonadi right away. I’m not sure it was necessarily the smoothest (if you want pure smooth sipability, Grey Goose hangs tough), but it was definitely the clearest. As in: clear flavors on the palate, a clear sense of place (you could almost taste the Italian alps), and a clear, crisp finish that makes a strong impression without being even the least bit harsh.

This is the #1 perfect bottle for drinking ice cold with a spoonful of caviar. You’re already being decadent, might as well go all in. – Steve Bramucci

Montanya Rum Valentia

ABV: 40%
Distillery: Montanya Distillery, Crested Butte, CO
Average Price: $55

The Bottle:

Montanya Rum’s Valentina celebrates women working in the distilling industry from one of the industry’s coolest female distillers. Renee Newton created this expression as a special one-off but it was so popular that they’re bringing it back. The actual rum was aged in Catoctin Creek Rye barrels which once held master distiller Becky Harris’ much-beloved rye whiskey. The marrying of these two worlds helps to create a wonderfully deep sip of rum that’ll have you itching for that next release.

Tasting Notes:

The nose is very rum cakey — you get those heavy baking spices (especially nutmeg) and a fair bit of vanilla. On the palate, that spice turns black peppery, proving just how much of an impression four years in a rye whiskey barrel has made on the expression. The finish is long and steady, with some late-to-the-party tropical fruits and just the right amount of heat.

This is a truly pleasant sip at the intersection of rum and rye. Take it with an ice cube and it’s all the cocktail you need.

– Steve Bramucci

El Recuerdo de Oaxaca Mezcal Abocado con Gusano

ABV: 40%
Distillery: Tlacolula, Oaxaca
Average Price: $38

The Bottle:

El Recuerdo is a classic mezcal that edges towards the clarity of fine tequila. The mezcal gained prominence on the U.S. market when MMA Fighter Jorge Masvidal brought the brand north. The base is made from Espandin agave that’s roasted over hot river rocks with pine and oak wood — all of which is sustainably sourced. Abocado con Gusano, in case you’re wondering, means “enriched by the agave worm,” a method that adds a silken nature to the sip.

Tasting Notes:

My fight with mezcals is that they’re often so smoky and grassy that they’re just not a ton of fun for me to sip. The nose here indicates that this expression is going to be different. There’s a mellow sweetness that blends with the smoke — maybe like… what’s that frosting on carrot cake? Does it have a specific name? Or… sort of like a bowl of Trix cereal. Fruity.

On the palate, the vegetal flavors rise to the fore with a fair bit of minerality, but it’s really (and I know how cliche this is) the smoothness that carries this part of the sip. No rough edges. The final notes are a little smokier and even more mineral-forward, but never overpowering. As if the distiller is in your ear saying, “sure, there’s the ground-roasted agave pinas, everyone knows that, but I want you to taste the other techniques, too.”

– Steve Bramucci

Jim Beam Pre-Prohibition Style Rye

ABV: 40%
Distillery: Jim Beam, Clermont, KY
Average Price: $22

The Bottle:

I guess I’m on a rye kick right now. Anyway, this bottle gets a lot of love for being a quintessential straight rye whiskey out of Kentucky. The mash bills (recipe) is a throwback to Jim Beam’s pre-Prohibition past that keeps things straightforward. It’s worth noting that this sip works as well on the rocks as it does in a highball or cocktail, adding to the versatility at this price point.

Tasting Notes:

Cocktail cherries, tart and ripe red berries, and a clear hit of peppery rye spice greet you. That pepperiness leans into a Christmas spice matrix as vanilla and caramel counterpoint the red berries. Then things take a turn into florals and fresh mint with an echo of licorice lurking far in the background as the spice brings about a warm, lingering final note. – Zach Johnston

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As has been discussed at length at this point, the coronavirus pandemic is keeping people inside, which gives some of those people time to do things they may not have otherwise had the opportunity to do. For a lot of artists, this means they have newly open blocks of time that they can devote to creating new material.

Where this can become an issue, though, is when fans expect increased productivity during these complicated times. That is something Rosalía has commented on in a new interview, and she says that’s not a pressure she plans on giving in to.

Rosalía said in a new Elle feature:

“I’m making progress on my music, but notwithstanding, I wanted to remark on something that seems to be happening to a lot of people, myself included. There’s this kind of pressure to be creative or busy most of the time, with lots of activities and progress, and I’m trying to run from that. I’m trying to do things that help keep me mentally healthy, and if that includes making music, then great. But I won’t lie — there are days when I just watch a show and eat a packet of cookies.”

That’s not to say Rosalía is doing nothing during this time. Last month, she shared “Dolerme” and wrote of the song, “I am in quarantine and I have lost track of time a bit because I decided that I was not going to think about it too much and that instead I was going to put my energy and my heart into doing something for others, in my own way. I know that what I do as an artist it may seem trivial, for some it will be, but for me being able to make music is mental health.”

Read the full feature here.

Like many kids born between the late 1980s and early 1990s, I loved Babe, the spunky farm-set comedy about a talking pig that grossed $254 million at the box office and received a shocking Best Picture nomination. How many talking animals have been nominated for Best Picture? Not enough I say (A Talking Cat!?! was robbed), but at least we’ll always have Babe. The movie — about a social hierarchy-disrupting pig who believes he’s meant to herd sheep — has a famously definitive ending, with Babe proving the haters wrong and everyone’s dad Farmer Hoggett, played by Oscar nominee James Cromwell, telling him, “That’ll do, Pig. That’ll do.” I cried, you cried, we all cried. So, naturally, five minutes into the sequel, Babe accidentally almost kills Farmer Hoggett.

I should probably back up.

After Babe became a surprise hit, Universal Pictures greenlit a sequel. But rather than replicate the success of the original, Babe: Pig in the City took place not on an idyllic farm, but, well, “the city,” and director George Miller, who received a writing and producing credit for the original film, replaced Chris Noonan as director. (“I don’t want to make a lifelong enemy of George Miller, but I thought that he tried to take credit for Babe, tried to exclude me from any credit, and it made me very insecure,” Noonan said years later. Miller’s response: “When it comes to Babe, the vision was handed to Chris on a plate.”) At the time, and to this day, Miller is best known for the Mad Max movies, peaking with Fury Road, which celebrated its five-year anniversary last week. It’s not exactly kid-friendly material, but to be fair, Babe: Pig in the City isn’t a kid-friendly movie.

I don’t know who it’s for, actually. I saw it as a kid, but all I remember is being terrified and that I was confused that “the city” was actually every city at once.

The skyline includes the World Trade Center, the Sears Tower, the Chrysler Building, the Empire State Building, the IDS Center, the MetLife Building, the Sydney Opera House, the Hollywood sign, the Golden Gate Bridge, Big Ben, the Statue of Liberty, the Eiffel Tower, and the Christ the Redeemer statue, among others. It’s a Choice. This movie is full of Choices, which is why, after viewing it as an adult for the first time over weekend, I must admit: Babe: Pig in the City rules. It’s weird, it’s dark, it feels like a fever dream, it was critic Gene Siskel’s favorite movie of 1998 (over Saving Private Ryan and The Thin Red Line — Roger Ebert also had it in his top-10), Mickey Rooney plays a clown named Fugly Floom, and there’s a family of chimpanzees, all of whom wear (adorable) clothes.

But there’s one scene in Babe: Pig in the City that I keep thinking about. It’s crazier than anything in Fury Road, a masterpiece full of crazy, thrilling sequences. The scene from Babe 2 that’s on my mind isn’t thrilling, or even fun to watch, but it’s wild that it made it into a kids movie, especially the sequel to the kind-hearted Babe. First, some set up: following Babe almost killing Farmer Hoggett, his wife Esme (first-billed Magda Szubanski!) and the little pig make plans to travel to a sheepdog herding contest to pay the bills, or else the bank will evict them. But on their way, a drug-sniffing dog shows off his professional prowess to Babe, causing them to miss their connecting flight. They check into the only hotel that will have them, the Flealands Hotel, where Babe (and the mice) meets the aforementioned chimpanzees, as well as cats, dogs, and an orangutan named Thelonius, a.k.a. Thelonius Monkey. Thelonius does not care for Babe, and neither do the chimpanzees, who use the pig as a diversion to steal jellybeans. Babe, naive cutie that he is, thinks he can use his “baa-ram-ewe” trick to calm down a vicious bull terrier; instead, the dog chases him around “the city,” leaving Babe to wonder, “Something broke through the terror. Flickerings, fragments of his short life, the random events that delivered him to this, his moment of annihilation. As terror gave way to exhaustion, Babe turned to his attacker, his eyes filled with one simple question: why?”

This a G-rated kids movie. Oh yeah, and when Babe jumps off a bridge, the bull terrier follows him, except he gets stuck before fully plunging into the water, resulting in the horrifying sight of a dog dangling off a bridge while drowning. Babe saves his attacker, because he’s the Paddington of dogs, but not before George Miller shows us this:

Uh, thanks George? My father should be arrested for taking me to this movie as a kid. (I do not want to know how they filmed this scene.) Shortly after the near-drowning incident, we get this harrowing anecdote from another, much tinier dog.

Why does George Miller hate dogs? And I haven’t even mentioned the scene where a courageous Jack Russell terrier with his hind legs on wheels dies in horrific fashion, goes to dog heaven, and is cruelly returned to this hell-pit we call Earth. Poor Flealick.

Needless to say, Babe: Pig in the City was not nearly as popular as Babe — it grossed only $69 million on a $90 million budget; it also inspired an infamously terrible video game and was nominated for an Oscar (Best Original Song), but lost to “When You Believe” from The Prince of Egypt. But I, and many others who have reevaluated the film in recent years, can now appreciate Miller’s f*cked-up vision of how the big city is full of cruel people who will chew you up (literally, if you’re a pig), if you let them. In that sense, the Babe sequel isn’t so different than Fury Road, with the Citadel as “The City.” Except Fury Road has a blind mutant playing a double-necked, flame-throwing guitar. Babe: Pig in the City has a dog almost drowning. The Doof Warrior makes sense to me, though — he’s in a dystopic R-rated action movie from the same guy who set a movie in a Thunderdome and created characters named the Lord Humungus and Master Blaster. Nothing about the unexpectedly nightmarish Babe: Pig in the City makes sense, especially at that point in Miller’s career, before he made the dancing penguin movies.

It’s the wildest film in a wild filmography. That’ll do, George. That’ll do.

Much of the pre-release hype surrounding Netflix’s Space Force is that it’s a The Office reunion of sorts, with star Steve Carrell working with creator Greg Daniels for the first time since playing Michael Scott. But don’t overlook the rest of the cast. There’s John Malkovich as a fussy scientist, Ben Schwartz looking not for actual heroes but people who “look” like heroes, and Lisa Kudrow as Carell’s “chipper-if-opportunistic wife” (someone from The Office being married to someone from Friends is peak Netflix algorithm), as well as Tawny Newsome, Jimmy O. Yang, Noah Emmerich, Diana Silvers, Jane Lynch, Chris Gethard, and the late Fred Willard. Check out the latest trailer above.

Here’s more:

A decorated pilot with dreams of running the Air Force, four-star general Mark R. Naird (Carell) is thrown for a loop when he finds himself tapped to lead the newly formed sixth branch of the US Armed Forces: Space Force. Skeptical but dedicated, Mark uproots his family and moves to a remote base in Colorado where he and a colorful team of scientists and “Spacemen” are tasked by the White House with getting American boots on the moon (again) in a hurry and achieving total space dominance.

Space Force premieres on Netflix on May 29. It will also have a 10-part tie-in podcast, Inside Joke, hosted by Yang.

Warner Bros.’ Justice League landed in 2017, and it feels like that long since diehard Zack Snyder fans have been clamoring to see his take that got shelved when Joss Whedon was hired to pump out a theatrical version. Over the past year, especially, we’ve heard from various parties, who would allegedly be in the know, that the once-fabled “Snyder Cut” actually exists. Kevin Smith came first to warm up DC fans to the prospect before Jason Momoa claimed to have seen the “ssssiiicccckkkkkk” thing, and Momoa even showed off an apparently filmed incident that never surfaced from Whedon. In December 2019, Snyder further fueled rumors by posting a photo of film cans that showed off a 214-minute runtime for his version, and now fresh speculation — perhaps the most convincing that people have seen so far — suggests that if a Snyder Cut’s gonna surface, it might happen very soon.

Much of the excitement correlates with the fact that we’re about one week away from the HBO Max launch date of May 27. Given that Warner Bros.’ entire stable of superhero films (every Batman movie, Joker, just all of it) will be part of the immense HBO Max library, it really seems, logically, that if the Snyder Cut surfaces anywhere, putting it on HBO Max would make the most sense. I can’t think of a more immediately effective way for HBO Max to encourage nerds to sign up as fast as possible for a $14.99 subscription if they’re not already one of the lucky HBO subscribers who will get it rolled into their existing subscription. Also — and this might be telling — Snyder is going to host an event (formally, a Man of Steel Watch Party on Vero) on Wednesday, May 20, which some have speculated will include an announcement. Will that announcement be that the Snyder Cut will surface, you know, on HBO Max?

You be the judge. “Many of us are struggling during this difficult time,” Snyder recently tweeted. “Felt it could be cathartic to come together now for a Man of Steel Watch Party and celebrate the ultimate symbol of hope.” The director will also field a Q&A session.

So, what do we make of this? The timing of the HBO Max launch with this fresh round of speculation is one thing. The fact that this is all going down during a pandemic — when millions of people under quarantine, could use some hope, or at least something they’ll be happy watching — is another factor that makes people want to believe. And on top of that, DCEU Mythic’s Jeremy Conrad and (who tends to be at the forefront of rumors that happen to be later confirmed) seems to be leaning toward thinking that the Snyder Cut will actually surface, and soon. Read Conrad’s reasoning here. Trusted nerd voice Peter Sciretta of Slashfilm may now be a believer as well. 2020 is strange!

None of this speculation, of course, means that the fabled Snyder Cut is truly coming to HBO Max. We won’t now if that’s happening until it does, or until we hear some sort of joint announcement from Snyder, Warner Bros, and HBO Max.

If it happens, though, let’s just say that there’s gonna be a lot of very excited people. That will not only include hardcore nerds but also Gal Gadot and Ben Affleck, who have vocally added their voices to the chorus to demand the release as opposed to a few dissentors, including Man of Steel Henry Cavill, composer Danny Elfman, and, reportedly, Warner Bros. itself as of late last year. Yet as we know now, more than ever, things can change fast, so we’ll see what happens during Zack Snyder’s Man Of Steel Watch Party on Wednesday.

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There are 73 episodes of Game of Thrones, and 68 of them have at least an 8.0 user rating on IMDB. That’s very good. IMDb ratings are an imperfect science, based on the whims of dudes with names like DothrakiLord666, but they are nonetheless valuable in discovering the general consensus among fans for the “best” and “worst” episodes.

For instance, “The Rains of Castamere,” “Hardhome,” “Battle of the Bastards,” and “The Winds of Winter” all have near-perfect 9.9s, and they are, objectively speaking, probably the four best episodes of Game of Thrones. Meanwhile, there are only two episodes below a 6: season eight’s “The Last of the Starks” (5.9) and the final episode of the series, “The Iron Throne” (4.6). To call the reaction to the Thrones finale “polarizing” would be an understatement, although Carice van Houten believes “some people” were/still are being “ungrateful” for questioning David Benioff and D.B. Weiss’ vision.

“The fact that some people were so disappointed is because everything before that was so good,” the actress, who played Melisandre, told Insider. “So it feels a bit ungrateful. You’ve had such great times and then yeah, you’re going to be disappointed because it’s not going to go exactly how you anticipated. Of course, you’re going to have all sorts of criticisms and I just thought it was a sign of how good the show was.”

At least now we know who to blame for season eight.

(Via Insider)