Like pretty much everything about the new Wes Anderson film, "Asteroid City," the title is a joke. Asteroid City is not a city but a dusty town, a stone's throw from the middle of nowhere, with a population of eighty-seven, a luncheonette, and a motel where you can get milk, Martinis, and real estate from vending machines. And what crashed in this remote spot, nearly five thousand years ago, was not an asteroid but a meteorite, the size of a crystal ball. So, who shows up here, in the course of the plot? Apart, that is, from the widower with his late wife's ashes in a Tupperware bowl, the blazing Hollywood star, the eccentric kids and their futuristic inventions (not least a functioning ray gun), the warbling cowboys, and the government agents who plunge everyone into quarantine? Nobody, really. Unless that green glow in the film's trailer turns out to be an alien spaceship, bearing someone, or something, who stops to pose for a picture. But that would be absurd.
The year is 1955, an era when a merry mushroom cloud can billow upward, in the background, signalling the test of an atomic bomb, without causing undue alarm. The widower is Augie Steenbeck (Jason Schwartzman), a pipe-smoking war photographer. He has three little daughters, a precocious son, Woodrow (Jake Ryan), and a car that just broke down. Also staying in Asteroid City is Midge Campbell (Scarlett Johansson), a famous actress who reduces lesser mortals to mutterings of awe, and her daughter, Dinah (Grace Edwards). In a neat romantic arrangement, Dinah falls for Woodrow, with whom she shares a penchant for the extraterrestrial, while Augie loses his heart to Midge. Their courtship is largely conducted across the space between two motel cabins; this allows them to be framed in windows, as if they were stuck in their own private movies.
Denne historien er fra June 26, 2023-utgaven av The New Yorker.
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Denne historien er fra June 26, 2023-utgaven av The New Yorker.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
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President for Sale - A survey of today's political ads.
On a mid-October Sunday not long ago sun high, wind cool-I was in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, for a book festival, and I took a stroll. There were few people on the streets-like the population of a lot of capital cities, Harrisburg's swells on weekdays with lawyers and lobbyists and legislative staffers, and dwindles on the weekends. But, on the façades of small businesses and in the doorways of private homes, I could see evidence of political activity. Across from the sparkling Susquehanna River, there was a row of Democratic lawn signs: Malcolm Kenyatta for auditor general, Bob Casey for U.S. Senate, and, most important, in white letters atop a periwinkle not unlike that of the sky, Kamala Harris for President.
LIFE ADVICE WITH ANIMAL ANALOGIES
Go with the flow like a dead fish.
CONNOISSEUR OF CHAOS
The masterly musical as mblages of Charles Ives
BEAUTIFUL DREAMERS
How the Brothers Grimm sought to awaken a nation.
THE ARTIFICIAL STATE
A different kind of machine politics.
THE HONEST ISLAND GREG JACKSON
Craint did not know when he had come to the island or why he had come.
THE SHIPWRECK DETECTIVE
Nigel Pickford has spent a lifetime searching for sunken treasure-without leaving dry land.
THE HOME FRONT
Some Americans are preparing for a second civil war.
SYRIA'S EMPIRE OF SPEED
Bashar al-Assad's regime is now a narco-state reliant on sales of amphetamines.
TUCKER EVERLASTING
Trump's favorite pundit takes his show on the road.