Dogged Determination

Plus: Laura Dern, Birds of Prey, and More Oscars by Glen Weldon Welcome! It was the week [the brilliant Parasite made history]( by stealthily invading the Oscars telecast like some kind of [NOTE: Come back later and insert apt metaphor here. Feel pretty sure there’s an obvious one that’s escaping me right now.]. It was the week when folks [were asked to offer up titles]( for the Knives Out sequel (Okay hear me out: Benoit Blanc swaps the tweed and suspenders for a tank top and board shorts and heads to Daytona Beach to solve a murder among horny teens on Spring Break. Guns Out, coming Fall 2022.). And it was the week [two giant wireless carriers were cleared to merge]( into one swollen-behemoth wireless carrier (that is to be called T-Mobile and not, as all laws of logical portmanteau-ing dictate, SprinT-Mobile. But as they say in the world of corporate acquistions, it’s a T-Mobile, not a Sprint.). Let’s get to it. Opening Argument: Dogged Determination On Tuesday night, a sizable chunk of the populace spent the evening closely monitoring their television sets with grave concern, as a particularly divisive and nerve-wracking contest among several hopeful aspirants played out. When the evening was over, mercifully enough, a winner was declared: Siba, a standard poodle at once supremely regal and possessed of a blithe, decidedly foofy insouciance, won Best in Show at Westminster. (This [appreciation from Elle’s R. Eric Thomas]( best captures the collective national mood, I think.) Linda – have you heard? – has a dog. NPR movie critic Bob Mondello recently acquired a puppy. I, too, have a new puppy. (NPR Arts Desk? NPR Arfs Desk, more like.) … (Because dogs.) (And their arfing.) My pup’s name is Sid. Sid the Dog. He’s just over three months old, he’s a yellow lab, and he’s great. … He’s mostly great. He’s great when he’s not nipping at your hand. And when he’s not chewing on your chair-leg. And when he’s not barking for your attention. And when he’s not roughly and ungenerously deflowering his favorite stuffed toy like some kind of calloused stablehand in a D.H. Lawrence novel. And when he’s not trying to lunge at terrified schoolchildren on the sidewalk. And when he’s not obsessively licking said sidewalk. And when he’s not chewing on the leash like it’s a liver-flavored roll-up. And when he’s not treating every USB cable in the apartment like his own private Twizzler. And when he’s not refusing to go up or down stairs because his moon’s in Scorpio or whatever the hell. And when he’s not peeing on the rug three minutes after coming back from a 45-minute walk that he didn’t pee on because he kept getting distracted by … something. (All those panicked schoolchildren? Asphalt? The disquieting presence of street signs? The superfluity of air?) And when he’s not pooping in the kitchen, while gazing serenely up at your panicked, shouting self (which shouldn’t be shouting, the books say not to shout, but you’re shouting, because there is now suddenly POOP IN THE KITCHEN AND THE KITCHEN IS FAMOUSLY THE HEART OF THE HOME). Yes, truly: He’s great, on such occasions as when he is not poop-gazing levelly at your panicked, shouting self as if he is your Dad and you are the copy of Popular Mechanics in their powder room. Which is to say, he’s great, except whenever he … is a puppy, basically. [Westminster Image]( Johannes Eisele/AFP via Getty Images Look: This is not my first time at the puppy rodeo. (PUPPY RODEO! WOOO!) It’s just that the last time I went through this process was 14 years ago. You forget what it’s like, to become someone who glowers at a dog whenever he has the gall, the utter temerity, to walk out of your direct line of sight (“WHATAREYOUDOINGWHEREAREYOUGOINGHEYHEYHEY”). What it’s like to monitor his fluid intake and spend your day throwing worried looks at the clock. What it’s like when your life as a pet owner gets reduced to a perpetual defensive crouch. He’ll get through this, of course. So will I. We’ll get through this together, it’s a process, a journey. I occasionally catch glimpses of what awaits us at the end of that journey. Oh, he’ll never acquire the haughty self-possession of, say, a Siba. My old dog might have turned out like that – even as a puppy, he was my emo, indoorsy son; I related to him immediately. Sid’s not like that. Sid’s my rowdy jock son, and we’re still learning how to communicate with each other. But there are moments. Fleeting moments, granted, between the nipping and yipping and peeing and pooping, when he just sort of … chills out. And lies down at my feet. And puts a single paw on my shoe. And looks up at me, with those ridiculously, nay, cartoonishly soulful brown eyes of his. Now: Ninety percent of the time, he’ll follow up this blissful pause, this fermata of rank adorableness, with some puppyish behavior that will send me scrambling for the paper towels. But tomorrow, it’ll be 89 percent. --------------------------------------------------------------- Newsletter continues after sponsor message --------------------------------------------------------------- We Recommend: Comedian Maria Bamford is the best there is, and she’s got a new standup special. Let there be dancing. [Maria Bamford: Weakness is the Brand]( isn’t on Netflix or Comedy Central, but it is available for rent or purchase on Apple TV, Google Play, YouTube, Amazon Prime Video and bunch of other services. And it’s so worth it. Ardent Star Wars fans who believe it to be perfect, sacrosanct and beyond interrogation: Take five, go get a sandwich. Everyone else: The new podcast Newcomers [features comedians Lauren Lapkus and Nicole Byer]( two people who’ve made it to adulthood free of any desire to watch a Star Wars movie. On each episode, they watch a Star Wars movie. It’s funny and fascinating, as they careen from puzzlement to irritation to (spoiler) grudging acceptance. Stay with it. The assumptions they leap to! The perfectly logical story issues they raise! The various things they think droids are! You’ve already seen [this Laura Dern thing]( because you are a red-blooded American with two ears and a heart who’s livin’ and learnin’ and lovin’ in this, the year of our lord 2020. But here it is again, to send you into the weekend. What We Did This Week: [Oscars Recap Image]( Kevin Winter/Getty Images (Last week, technically): After last week’s episode of the newsletter was put to bed, Stephen published [this niftily ruthless appraisal]( of the Oscar-nominated songs. Linda [reviewed the Netflix sequel]( P.S. I Still Love You, which dropped on Wednesday. We stayed up to the wee small ones of Sunday/Monday (producer Jessica Reedy stayed up to ones that were even wee-er and small-er) [to hash over an Oscars telecast]( that offered up precious few surprises, right up to the moment it offered up a big one. [For a lively discussion of the even livelier Birds of Prey]( we were joined on Friday’s episode by All Things Considered’s film editor Mallory Yu and journalist/I Heart Radio producer Joelle Monique. (Here, once again, [is my review]( What's Making Us Happy: Every week on the show, we talk about some other things out in the world that have been giving us joy lately. Here they are: - Glen: [Harley Quinn]( animated series on DC Universe - Mallory: [Bloom]( by Kevin Panetta and Savanna Ganucheau - Joelle: [Shadow of the Batgirl]( by Sarah Kuhn and Nicole Goux - Linda: [FANTI]( podcast What do you think of today's email? We'd love to hear your thoughts, questions and feedback: [pchh@npr.org](mailto:pchh@npr.org?subject=Newsletter%20Feedback) Enjoying this newsletter? Forward to a friend! They can [sign up here](. Looking for more great content? [Check out all of our newsletter offerings]( — including Music, Books, Daily News and more! You received this message because you're subscribed to Pop Culture Happy Hour emails. This email was sent by National Public Radio, Inc., 1111 North Capitol Street NE, Washington, DC 20002 [Unsubscribe]( | [Privacy Policy](