The Spooky Period Pieces, Repro Memes, and Poetry That Got Us Through the Week

Change the “Days Since New JoJo Music” sign back to zero!!!! JoJo is back in fine form singing about her best topic: cheating. While nothing can top “Leave (Get Out),” this Mahalia joint comes close. “I shoulda used my mind, I shoulda left you last time?” Yes! You should have! And we get an incredible display of JoJo vocals on “AaaAaAAgGGaaaIiiiiIiIiiiiiiNnnnnNnnNNN.”

Please don’t talk to me about the poorly executed, ‘90s-fish-eye-lens homage. I am aware it looks like these women are being held hostage in some shots. But the song is a BOP! —Caitlin Cruz

This week, my time indoors sheltering from the ashen skies has been made surprisingly endurable by horror maven Grady Hendrix’s The Final Girl Support Group—the surprisingly feminist horror novel that’s bone-chillingly terrifying enough to force you to spend the night at a friend’s house. The novel centers around a group of fictional “final girls”—the lone, teenage, women survivors of slasher flicks, who are often babysitting virgins able to take down machete-wielding monsters purely with their wits. The Final Girl Support Group raises the question of what happens to these girls after the credits roll, after all the sequels and media madness. And the answer is… nothing good, but an excellent, addictive read, to be sure. I have no real reason to be reading and recommending this book right now with Halloween five months away, but hey, with climate catastrophe at our door, no horror story ever feels too irrelevant. —Kylie Cheung

Am I pigeonholing myself as the Netflix reality show heathen on staff? Probably. Do I have any qualms about it? Not a one. My latest indulgence was a happy accident that began after I finished the most recent season of Selling Sunset. It was fine. Without Christine, it lacked its villainous oomph, but I will watch that stupid show with its high heels stuck in pool decks until hell freezes over, unfortunately. After the final episode ended, the streamer launched me into the first season of Selling the OC—Netflix’s attempt at reality TV franchising á la Bravo’s Housewives—and out of boredom or sloth, I just let it play.

I cannot confidently say that Selling the OC is good. Still, I ate that shit up like a dog with a spoonful of peanut butter, and I am happy to report that just because the cast includes men (straight men! married men! bi men! c’mon, men!), it doesn’t make for any less cattiness. Mansions! Surfing! Yachts! Mediocre outfits! The plot here is not at all crucial. All that matters is that there are three castmates named Alex, and only one of them is halfway decent. (Her last name rhymes with Schmarvis. Let’s fight about it.) —Emily Leibert

Happy Jenny Lewis Joy’all release day! My Americana indie queen released her fifth solo album today, and as the name suggests, it’s a joy. The album is lighthearted and dreamy, the perfect soundtrack for an easy summer. I’m already planning on turning it on while riding passenger side and gliding my arm outside the window like they do in all those aesthetic coming-of-age movies. The tunes sound like the orange light of summer dusk warming your skin.

In a recent interview with The Guardian, Lewis described this stage of life in her forties as “a spiritual shift—I realized that the pursuit of joy is a really important thing.” I’m particularly fond of the track “Apples and Oranges.” Turn it on while you’re cruising around somewhere this weekend looking for your own joy. —Kady Ruth Ashcraft

In his review of the new Prime Video docuseries Shiny Happy People: Duggar Family Secrets, Jezebel’s Rich Juzwiak warned, “You aren’t prepared for how disturbing this is.” He was right: I read his story, and I was still not prepared. This shit was fucked up.

In four episodes, Shiny Happy People brilliantly parallels the very-public story of the Duggars of 19 Kids and Counting fame alongside the very-hidden story of the Institute of Basic Life Principles (IBLP,) the Christian fundamentalist church (read: cult) the Duggars belong to. Jill Duggar Dillard is a central voice in the docuseries, as are multiple other people who grew up in the IBLP church and broke away after enduring horrific treatment. The things you learn about IBLP are nauseating—made even more so when you realize how those same oppressive IBLP teachings were sanitized for the Duggars’ TLC shows, which millions of Americans obsessively watched.

And importantly, Shiny Happy People treats its ex-IBLP sources with care and empathy, which makes the docuseries feel affirming, not voyeuristic. —Sarah Rense

New York-born, Los Angeles-based poet aja monet’s debut LP is a salve of organized language and free-ish jazz—an incredible Sunday morning album. She’s backed by a slew of musicians and her words are sophisticated but clear. I find myself repeatedly drawn to the sound of her voice, which manages to be both serene and commanding, simultaneously. “devil you know” is nearly 10 minutes of hope, as monet delineates various ways of political engagement. She postulates that you can vote with the way you love, with childcare, and by listening. The music provides a dynamic backdrop—when monet says, “Silence is a noise, too,” it all drops out and shows what she’s telling.

It’s rich and deep (sometimes she says words like Roberta Flack sings) and an argument in itself too. To paraphrase monet, make time for poetry while the world is on fire. A stunning album, top to bottom. —Rich Juzwiak

I will admit that I only made it through one episode of the original Bridgerton series before turning my nose up at the show, for some reason. But I was immediately sucked into its prequel, Queen Charlotte—another Shonda Rhimes creation (and she’s actually the showrunner on this one, unlike the other).

Queen Charlotte reimagines the early story of the blunt, formidable queen of England and her troubled romance with King Charles, who suffered from mental illness. The actors who play young Charlotte and George, India Amarteifio and Corey Mylchreest, have incredible chemistry, and the script gives them some of the greatest sex scenes I’ve seen on TV. But the whole plot of the 8-episode series, lightly based on history, is so deeply engrossing that I spent 20 minutes in between binging each episode Googling exactly which details were true to life. The finale had me sobbing uncontrollably long after the credits, and I will say no more. —Laura Bassett

I honestly can’t believe I haven’t recommended this account yet. The delightful @ReproMemes has content for everyone: clinic workers, repro advocates, and people just generally screaming into the abyss. The account makes countering abortion stigma, spreading the word about abortion pills, and sharing bleak news developments all somehow very funny. (One of my favorites is a little delivery dog asking, “Hello, did somebody order some abortion?” The dog wears a hat that says, fittingly, “freedom pooch.”) Like many a good meme account, this one heavily references Gritty, raccoons, and recently, Barbie. Share their posts and help inform and radicalize the rest of your timeline. —Susan Rinkunas

Period pieces are usually a big hit or miss for me, with more of them leaning miss. But Emily, a biopic that generously imagines what inspired Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights, hit all my favorite notes: It was dark, spooky, hot, devastating, and infuriating. And, co-starring Oliver Jackson-Cohen as local priest William Weightman, did I mention it was hot? Like, it was really fucking hot. Ugh.

It also stars Emma Mackey as Emily, who is beyond phenomenal as the shy and awkward but brilliant second-youngest Brontë sister. And while the Gothic film does feel a lot like reading her most famous novel, you absolutely don’t need to have read it to enjoy Emily—since it focuses more on her creative and sexual awakening than it does on her actually writing a book. This movie charmed me, broke my heart, and inspired me to sit in front of an open window in the dark and write a novel and fantasize about being a woman in a small village in 1800 falling passionately in love with a local priest who’s being tortured by his unholy and uncontrollable desire for me. So yeah, great movie, dare I say one of my favorites of the past few years. —Lauren Tousignant

Yes, I’m aware that Bottoms hasn’t come out yet. No, I don’t care one bit. Bookmark, screenshot, or print the forthcoming text and commit it to memory for its wide release on August 25. Then, spend the next two-ish months preparing to peak at your local theater.

Bottoms is only Emma Seligman’s second film, but its plot (two queer high schoolers start a fight club to get closer to their crushes on the cheerleading squad), sublime ensemble cast (Rachel Sennott and Ayo Edebiri may be comedic gold, but Marshawn Lynch is a revelation), and spot-on spoofing of the raunchy coming-of-age comedies that came before it far surpass most sophomore work. It is, in essence, what Booksmart wanted to be if it hadn’t been so afraid of looking stupid. I’ve never had more fun at a screening.

If you’re having trouble holding your horses this summer, watch Seligman and Sennott’s Shiva Baby, currently streaming on Max. —Audra Heinrichs