If you’re looking for something to do tonight, just stare at this good, decent, beautiful man for an hour and consider the fact that the company he co-founded in 1982 has donated over $500,000,000 to charities around the world.
First: quasi-nautical dressing is my favorite kind of dressing, if you can carry it off. Please know who you are, or we all will pay the price.
Second: I don't care if Book Club is terrible. Mamma Mia! (mandatory exclam) is deeply terrible, yet I love it in any form and will be at the head of the line for Mamma Mia 2, 4evermore!! And here's Hunter Harris at NY Mag with a timely query: "Are you ready for the summer of Andy Garcia?":
Here are things I would like to do with Andy Garcia–as-Mitchell, in no particular order: Read a trashy YA romance on a lawn chair next to his pool (that’s not an innuendo for something — I don’t have access to a pool in New York, so that would be really cool and fun). Drink white wine on his pool’s inflatable swan. Speed walk through his (no doubt cavernous home’s) hallways, holding a Nokia 511, and flipping through leather folder full of “important papers,” like Andy Garcia-as–Terry Benedict did in the Ocean’s movies. This is not an exhaustive list.
Jesus christ, yes.
Most things in life are terrible. Most people are terrible, which you will know if you've ever met any, or stood in line behind them at a pharmacy on a Saturday afternoon. Which is why it's incumbent upon us, I feel, to gather ye rosebuds & Andy Garcias while we may. As Tim Carmody puts it in today's NOTICING newsletter, "The whole country is broken. Fun is harder to find all over. Yet somehow, we do what we can."
Andy Garcia gets at what’s best about Book Club, a movie about having fun and getting laid: He was hot back in the ’80s and then in the ’90s and then again in the 2000s, but he’s even hotter now in a more casual, “Yes, I actually can’t wait to turn 60 and drink wine with you” way.
Every movie should be about having fun and getting laid and drinking wine with 60-year-olds, as far as I'm concerned. Or dogs solving crimes. That's it. We need no other movies.
The delightful duo behind the Thirst Aid Kit podcast, Bim Adewunmi and Nichole Perkins, would call my obsession a thirst, not a crush. They appreciate Taika Waititi, too. My favorite thing I've read is where he says he's not interested in directing dramas. Actually I don't remember if I read it or made it up, but I'd like it to be true. Nobody with this hair should waste their time trying to make life more boring and serious.
All of these pics are from a profile at GQ, taken by Steven Taylor.
Look at these two beautiful, hairy bozos in what the internet tells me is 1992, a year (decade) in which I also had a lot of hair (still do btw). I like to think of them as a bumbling comedy duo called Spanx! who solve cute, wholesome crimes to pay the bills, like The Case of the Missing Bowling Shoes, or The Great Pancake Breakfast Caper.
And this is Spanx! at the Beacon Theatre last Friday night, which I spent at the opera/hotel bar area instead, drinking biers and crying, even though this "conversation" happened right here in my neighborhood. New York City has taught me a lot of lessons about loss and the importance of not double-booking one's own personal calendar, that's for sure.
Not so hairy now, are we fellas?
I like to browse the latest GQ when I'm at the beauty parlor so I can see what the gents are wearing lately (tight pants, bomber jackets), but I didn't realize I had read the same issue two months in a row until I got to this Patrick Stewart fashion spread, which made me happy both times. (Sorry, Tom Hiddleston, yr just not 4 me). Now I'd like to see anyone other than Patrick Stewart try to pull off this ensemble, but mostly I want to give him a high five for being so jolly. Wouldn't you like to hike around Brooklyn with Patrick Stewart as your tour guide? You wouldn't even care whether or not he knew what he was talking about. It wouldn't even occur to you to ask. He could probably lead you straight into some canal and you'd still go away saying, "Thanks Patrick Stewart, it got wet for a while there but I truly learned how to live."
CV and I were faxing to & fro last night about this & that and I mentioned she should go see Sully—as should everyone, it’s a wonderfully restrained picture for grownups and people who need pharmaceutical-free “mood lifters”—and we both agreed Tom Hanks is the best (she used the emoji of many hearts and I just typed “hubba hubba”).
Tom Hanks, winner of multiple Oscars. Tom Hanks, proprietor of the “gimme five” lost-glove Instagram. Tom Hanks, inventor of the elegant typewriter app. (“Is it necessary? No, not really. Is it enjoyable to use and well-made? Well, yes.”) Tom Hanks. Hanx! I like to think Nora Ephron would approve.
I’m not of the mind that all men get better looking as they age, any more than all women do—we all just become more of ourselves, I think—but Tom Hanks is at the top of the list of men about whom this myth is 100% accurate. (I’ll pay $1 billion to anyone willing to diagram that last sentence.) I am no stranger to the man’s aspect: I was there for Bosom Buddies, and Joe vs the Volcano and Turner and Hooch and Splash and Big, etc., etc., and this is definitely one joker well served by a little weight gain and a little hair loss. Would that we could all be so lucky! Would that we could all be Tom Hanks!
p.s. You know what else is a good movie starring Tom Hanks? A Hologram for the King. My stylist and I both agreed on that on Sunday.