Boy Movies #89

Everything I’ve watched since being cursed by a witch

Welcome to Boy Movies, a newsletter written by a person dealing with two sprained ankles.

About a month ago, a witch cursed me. Have you ever been cursed by a witch? In my experience, the curse has manifested in the form of several physical ailments, one after the other, putting me in a place of on-again, off-again quarantine for several weeks.

At the end of April, I contracted the mysterious upper respiratory infection that everyone’s been getting this year. Shortly after I started feeling about 70% recovered, I somehow developed a case of pink eye, which is a disgusting and childish affliction. Mere days after the pink eye cleared up, I took an absolutely humiliating fall in my home state of New Jersey that left me with two sprained ankles. I’m told that my left foot has one of the sprains you don’t want to get, with the torn ligaments and that. I don’t say any of this for sympathy, or to throw myself any sort of pity party. I mostly say it because I believe if someone were writing a story in which these three things happened back to back to the same character, I’d be like, “You need to space these out a little, it’s starting to feel unrealistic.” And that is why I am convinced that a witch has put a curse on me.

We’re three weeks out from Allison’s Big Fall and I have done nothing with this time, unless playing The Sims, compiling a folder of photos of injured celebrities, and watching hours upon hours of old Liam Gallagher interviews on YouTube counts as doing something. I have learned to get around pretty well on crutches, which is cool considering that I literally fell over the first time I tried to use them. Elderly people who use walkers absolutely love to engage me in conversation on the rare occasion I am in public these days, which I admittedly enjoy. Things could be worse and I’m very lucky. That said, my fucking ankles do hurt.

Doing nothing has left me with very little to talk about, but I still wanted to check in, thus: my second round-up issue of 2025, highlighting all the movies I’ve watched since that foul witch cursed me. Here’s the one I did back in March, for anyone who missed the earth-shattering issue of Boy Movies in which I came out as an Osgood Perkins defender.

This is redundant for anyone who follows me on Letterboxd — oh well

Mission: Impossible III, dir. J.J. Abrams
I’ve talked the Mission: Impossible movies to death in this newsletter, to the point where I’m sure many of you are tired of hearing me go on about them. But! Few things I’ve said here have garnered a larger reaction than when I named M:I3 as my favorite of the M:Is. Some of you were really worked up about this — but why? Philip Seymour Hoffman plays Tom Cruise playing Philip Seymour Hoffman. America’s sweetheart Laurence Fishburne. Keri Russell mention. And lest we forget when Ethan blasted “We Are Family.” I rewatched to confirm that J.J. Abrams’ feature film directorial debut was as good as I remembered, and it is. Yes, it’s incredibly Abrams to give Ethan a random wife, but this is the one where things really start to come together for the franchise, whether you like it or not.

Tropic Thunder, dir. Ben Stiller
Sometimes you are simply in a place of hitting play on Tropic Thunder. I believe Danny McBride to be one of the most effortlessly hot people to ever exist. Also, this is kind of a rich text — are we ready to talk about it? As Lyvie suggested, it might just be Mean Girls for boys. It also might be “back,” ever since Christopher McQuarrie said he and Tom Cruise are apparently dying to make a Les Grossman spin-off movie. From the bottom of my heart I do not think this should happen and I would say that to their faces.

Zodiac, dir. David Fincher
Had to watch this shit with periodic ad breaks, can you absolutely believe it? Streaming is the reason I have a job but streaming is also my great nemesis. My friend Jack and I have already said all there is to be said about Zodiac in this newsletter, but every time I rewatch it I’m more impressed by how prescient it feels. The male urge to solve puzzles! Trying to understand the mind that cannot be understood will never go out of style. Dare I say Zodiac has the best top to bottom performances of any Fincher movie?

Ocean’s Eleven, dir. Steven Soderbergh
One of these days I’ll get around to writing a defense of Don Cheadle’s performance in this movie. I think he’s good!

Bottle Rocket, dir. Wes Anderson
Dudes rock. This is the only movie I’ve seen in theaters in the past month, and about halfway through I started thinking, “Huh, I wonder if I have pink eye.” I did!

Trap, dir. M. Night Shyamalan
I got home from the ER after My Big Fall and was like, “If I don’t see Josh Hartnett right now I’m going to fucking lose it.” I’m actually her uncle…………….. her mother’s brother.

Next to Normal, dir. Michael Longhurst and Austin Shaw
Now… I’m always reluctant to remind readers of this newsletter that I am a rabid theater kid lest you all stop respecting me, but Next to Normal is one of the defining shows of my youth. I’m certain that at least part of the reason I’m so stupid is because much of my brain real estate is taken up by every single lyric to a troubling number of musicals, this one included. All of that is to say that the PBS broadcast of the proshot of the West End production of this show was a monumental event in my bedroom. I had many issues with it, many of which come down to the casting and direction, and I believe those opinions put me in the minority, but I’m not afraid of other theater kids. None of you dorks scare me. Still, the timing of this show resurfacing in my life is beautiful and serendipitous.

Mission: Impossible, dir. Brian De Palma
The only one of these that looks and feels like an actual movie, for obvious reasons.

Mountainhead, dir. Jesse Armstrong
Jesse Armstrong’s Mayhem. I watched this for work, BRAG! Just kidding, that’s not a brag. I was considering writing an entire issue about Mr. Succession’s feature film directorial debut, as Mountainhead is very much a boy movie — four tech bro billionaires spend a cursed boys’ weekend in a remote mansion as a global financial crisis unfolds around them — but no one would’ve given a single shit about that. I liked it for what it was, but Succession gave me a mental illness that has not yet been recognized by the American Mental Health Foundation, so maybe I’m not the best person to ask.

Best in Show, dir. Christopher Guest
Christopher Guest’s filmography hits at the borderline unachievable middle ground between man canon and gay canon. He just gets it, better than most.

Steel Magnolias, dir. Herbert Ross
Girl movie! If you can’t say anything nice about anybody, come sit by me <3