The Book of Rannells: Welcome to Chippendales: Season 1, Episode 4 – “Just Business” (2022)

*Episode premise spoilers, which spoil certain developments from the first three episodes.*

I’m really enjoying this Hulu miniseries, about the twists, feuds, and scandals that bloomed out of the creation of Chippendales in the 1970s and ‘80s. While I didn’t go into the show knowing much about Chippendales beyond the famous SNL sketch, it’s interesting to see what a complex, dramatic story was at play here.

Since Andrew Rannells is only making his first guest appearance halfway through the series, I’ll quickly catch us up on the main players before getting into the synopsis for this episode. In 1979, small-time club owner Steve Bannerjee gets the idea to open a strip club for women. Over the course of the first few episodes, the origins of the infamous Chippendales take shape as the meticulous businessman assembles his team. Other than the dancers, of course, this includes Nick, a brilliant choreographer whose routines keep the ladies coming back for more but whose creative fancies have been increasingly clashing with Steve’s bottom line. We have Irene, a savvy accountant who has a way with money; by this point, she’s also Steve’s wife. Rounding out the team is Denise, an ingenious costume designer who becomes another point of contention between Nick and Steve when Nick strongarms Steve into hiring her.

So that’s where we are when we hit episode 4. Business is better than ever, with Chippendales’ newly printed calendars flying off the shelves. But Steve can’t fully celebrate his success. The club’s most popular dancer Otis is unsettled to realize that he, the only Black dancer at Chippendales, was left out of the calendar. And after Steve’s conflicts with Nick boiled over in the previous episode, the choreographer has escaped to the opposite coast, where he’s trying to pitch his own male strip club to New York backers.

The show reminds me a little of Black Monday, and not just because both feature Andrew Rannells and are about an unlikely crew of masterminds shaking up the scene as they’re fueled by coke and ‘80s greed. Both are about people who are supremely good at what they do but have to create their own opportunities after getting shut out of traditional paths—Steve is an Indian immigrant who used all his savings from years of working as a gas station manager to open Chippendales, and his partners in crime are a queer man and two women—and both feature lead characters who are fueled just as much by resentment as their inner drive, which can help and hurt them in equal turn.

In Steve’s case, Chippendales is his brainchild, but he never could have created it alone. While his vision and business acumen got the club off the ground, he needed Nick’s routines to take things to the next level, Irene to maximize his profits, and Denise to create the gamechanger of breakaway pants. However, because he’s someone who’s been denigrated and ignored for all the years he’s been in America, he’s always on the lookout for someone wanting to push him down or take what’s rightfully his, whether that’s profit or credit. This can make him lash out, batten down the hatches to protect what’s his, but he alienates his collaborators in the process.

It's also really interesting to see what’s going on with Otis here. We’ve seen how he’s objectified in the dance routines. Yes, for a stripper, that comes with the job to an extent, but it goes further with Otis than the other guys. We see how the women fetishize him, how they grope at him while he’s trying to do his job. He looks up to Steve as a man of color who built his own business from the ground up, so to have Steve traffic in antiblackness—it’s the customers’ fault, you see, they’re just too racist to buy a sexy calendar with a Black man in it—is a hard blow for him.

The cast is terrific. Kumail Nanjiani plays Steve as part dweeb, part genius, part godfather. Murray Bartlett, who I really liked in Looking and who’s caught my eye in everything I’ve seen him in since, brings the passionate but egotistical Nick to life so far. Annaleigh Ashford is great as sweety, nerdy Irene, Juliette Lewis is fun as the wild Denise, and Quentin Plair does a really nice job with Otis. The miniseries also features the always-great Robin de Jesús, the original Sonny in In the Heights, and he more recently played Michael in tick, tick…BOOM!

Rannells shows up in the New York City part of the storyline. As Nick takes a breather from attempting to pitch his new club, he stops for a drink at a piano bar and is swept away by one Bradford Barton (and yes, that is the Rich White Boyest of names.) Bradford captures Nick’s attention by singing “Someone is Waiting” from Company, which is awesome, and their official meetcute involves arguing over their favorite Sondheim song, which is even better. Nick and Bradford quickly fall for each other, and the sexytimes commence.

Bradford makes an entertaining impression in his first episode. While Welcome to Chippendales is more of an overall drama than most shows Rannells has been in, he navigates the tone well, nailing the drama-with-a-lot-of-humor vibe. In addition to singing Sondheim in his very first scene, which will always be a plus, we’re treated to some delightful line readings. As Nick tells Bradford about his ex-wife, a famous actress, Bradford drawls, “Well, if you’re gonna be closeted, you might as well go big.”

Rannells’ nonverbal performances is on point too. There’s a great moment when, in their hotel room, Nick is on the phone with Denise and vigorously denies being high. As he insists, “None! Not a bump!”, Bradfords makes an absolutely spectacular face and holds up three fingers. It’s been a while since I had any new live-action Rannells project to watch, and I’m really pleased with what we’re getting in Welcome to Chippendales so far.

Recommend?

In General – I would, provided you don’t mind lots of scenes of strippers dancing. It’s a neat story that’s being told well by an excellent cast, all wins in my book.

Andrew Rannells – Sure. Rannells is a lot of fun here. He has less nonstop comedy than some of his sitcom performances, but he entertains in all of his scenes and I’m looking forward to seeing where things go with Bradford and Nick.

Warnings

Sexual content, language, drinking/smoking/drug use, thematic elements, and scenes of violence.

So You Think You’re Autistic (2022)

*I have family visiting right now, and I didn’t have time to finish today’s Sunday Who Review post. I’ll get that up later this week, but for now, have this post I had on deck.*

On my recent deep dive into autism and ADHD, one of the people whose content I’ve found really helpful is YouTuber Yo Samdy Sam (a.k.a. Samantha Stein.) In fact, her video “5 Signs You Have Autism and ADHD” was a huge “oh!” moment for me. At the time, I’d gotten to the point where I really couldn’t ignore the possibility that I was autistic, but I was hesitant to take it any further because of little things that I felt didn’t add up. Meanwhile, I was seeing more ADHD content on my timeline, and while I definitely found some of it incredibly relatable, I was still mostly filing it under, “That’s weird, ‘cause it’s not like I have ADHD, right?” Cue Yo Samdy Sam’s video. As she went through the items on her list, showing ways that autism and ADHD can both look a little different in conjunction, I found myself repeatedly thinking, Yes, that! That’s the thing!

So, as I explored more of her videos and discovered that she’d published “A Workbook for the Confused Person Who’s Just Trying to Figure Things Out” (that’s the subtitle,) I decided to check it out. After doing more research and taking a few quizzes, it seemed like a good next step for me.

I really liked this workbook. In it, Stein breaks down the diagnostic criteria for autism in ways that cut through the clinical and pathologizing language of the DSM-5. Her explanations are clear and easy to understand, with examples outside the relatively narrow stereotype of how many people view autism. For instance, some people (like myself) might assume they don’t stim because they don’t rock or flap their hands; Stein points out that things like repetitively tapping your fingers or cracking your knuckles can count as stimming as well. Each of her explanations of the five criteria and their subcategories are accompanied by several prompts that allow the reader to reflect on their own experiences. There’s ample writing space to explore the questions and think of ways that these criteria might (or might not) apply to you. For instance, in the section on sensory processing, there’s a separate page for each sense and room for the reader to consider what sensory sensitivities or seeking behaviors they might have, and she offers a few examples of what that might look like for each sense. In the section on special interests, she cheerfully declares, “INFODUMP TIME!” and leaves a full two pages for the reader to write about the particular obsessions that bring them joy.

The sections on the diagnostic criteria make up a good chunk of the workbook, but Stein guides the reader through other topics as well. There are prompts about imposter syndrome, the ways people might mask their autistic traits (consciously or otherwise) to appear more neurotypical, and how the reader’s other identities—such as race, gender, or class—might affect their experience as an autistic person. She also offers space to weigh the pros and cons of seeking a formal diagnosis and think about how the reader may want to go about telling other people in their life, and there’s a resource list at the end of the book for further information.

The workbook strikes a good balance between explanation and personal exploration. I really like how well it’s organized, with clearly structured sections and helpful examples/clarifications. Beyond that, it’s also just pretty to look at, which is nice. I found it a super helpful guide for thinking about my life, my experiences, and my brain, and by the time I reached the end, I was feeling a lot more sure about things.

Favorite Characters: Evelyn Wang (Everything Everywhere All at Once)

*Spoilers.*

Everything Everywhere All at Once is a wild, weird movie that’s bursting with love, and so many aspects of it are firing on all cylinders from start to finish. But of course, at the center of it all, in the middle of that inventive maelstrom of possibilities, is Evelyn herself.

When Evelyn (and the audience) first meets the Waymond from the Alphaverse, we learn that he’s been searching the multiverse for the Evelyn who’s able to stop the threat of Jobu Tupaki. And he thinks he’s finally found her.

She’s an unlikely candidate, to say the least. She’s a world-weary immigrant mom and struggling business owner who’s constantly stressed trying to keep everything together. In Evelyn’s mind, her flighty husband and difficult daughter add to the constant effort of her daily life. Her laundromat is being audited, and her messy, cramped apartment is full of noise and commotion. And she’s the multiverse’s best hope?

The answer lies in the Alphaverse technology of verse-jumping. Using their tech, users can access their other possible selves in different universes, temporarily borrowing their useful skills to fight against Jobu Tupaki. As Waymond explains it, every choice spawns a new universe in which that decision was made differently. And it’s actually because Evelyn’s life is so dissatisfying that she holds the key to stopping Jobu. Most people, Waymond tells her, only have a few useful alternate selves to draw from. But because she’s made so many wrong choices in her life, littering her own personal multiverse with unlived dreams, she has tons of other selves, all with different experiences/skills she can borrow.

An Evelyn who’s a kung fu expert. An Evelyn who’s an opera singer. An Evelyn who’s a teppanyaki chef, who’s blind, who never married Waymond, who’s a sign spinner, who has hot dogs for fingers. Countless Evelyns with lives far from the laundromat.

Our Evelyn envies that. When she gets her first glimpse at another universe, she longs to stay in that life, dreaming of how much better she could have had it. But ultimately, this isn’t a movie about a woman who sees what her life could have been. It’s about a woman who learns to love her own life, hectic and shabby as it is, because it’s the people that make it special. Her specific people, her sunshiny husband and vulnerable daughter, realizing she wouldn’t trade them for all the glittering possibilities out there in the multiverse.

Instead, she uses those other Evelyns and their skills to take on Jobu Tupaki, understanding in the end that it’s about reaching her rather than simply fighting her. By choosing to overload herself with rapid verse-jumping, replicating the accident that created Jobu in the first place, Evelyn is able to experience the multiverse as she does, is able to understand her. Experiencing everything, everywhere, all at once, while still keeping an important foothold in her own universe, Evelyn holds a hand out to Jobu and pulls her back from the edge. She saves the multiverse, and her daughter in the process.