A Phish Wife Reviews the Trey Anastasio Documentary Between Me and My Mind

I never thought I’d say this, necessarily, but Trey Anastasio and I fundamentally agree when it comes to Phish, the legendarily trippy jam outfit he fronts. “It’s a weird band,” Anastasio says in the new documentary about him, Between Me and My Mind, which premiered at the Tribeca Film Festival on Friday night. The line elicited uproarious laughter from the frothing crowd of Phishheads at the Beacon Theatre in New York, a crew so passionate they could put the Avengers: Endgame fans to shame. It was funny because it’s true: Phish is a quartet known for 13-minute jams and psychedelic laser light shows; a drummer, Jon Fishman, who wears a donut-print dress to every concert just because; and onstage theatrics that have included the appearance of Abe Vigoda in a wombat costume.

My husband of seven years’ musical soul is stirred by all of this; meanwhile, I’m over here listening to Lemonade for the millionth time. As I previously wrote at Vogue, this is my plight as a Phish wife, and occasional Phish widow, because another thing Phish is known for is its touring prowess, siren-calling my husband and his fellow “phans” to shows all over the country. Inconveniently (for me), they are often timed to major holidays like New Year’s Eve at Madison Square Garden, Halloween in Vegas (not exactly friendly for our 2- and 5-year-old children), and Fourth of July at SPAC (the Saratoga Performing Arts Center). Though we’ve largely come to a happy, thoughtfully negotiated place with my husband’s Phish show attendance, it’s fair to say I nestled into my seat at the world premiere of Between Me and My Mind as something of a skeptic—even if I was sort of proud that I knew the title derived from the song “Light” and the lyric: “I can see the light between me and my mind.”

I’m not sure what came over me, but in the ensuing 100-minute, deeply heartfelt documentary directed by Steven Cantor, I did, actually, see the light—not so much about Phish’s music but in Anastasio himself. I saw him as a guy who wakes up at 6:15 a.m., makes his coffee, pets his cat, and tinkers around on the piano in his New York living room, which includes a basket teeming with Broadway Playbills (at last, my kind of show!); a guy who played the guitar beside his dying best friend, whose loss he attempts to process throughout the film; a goofy dad who cracks corny jokes with his two daughters, Eliza and Bella, who recall him gutting their old TV to make an under-the-sea diorama; a creative with multiple side hustles (Trey Anastasio Band and a new solo album, Ghosts of the Forest) who gets really, really excited about meticulously planning Phish’s annual New Year’s Eve “gag.” In the film, it’s the 2018 stunt of turning the MSG stage into a pirate ship sailing over a sea of fans to the sounds of a new song: “Soul Planet,” the title of which is repeated on a loop and may be stuck in my head until the end of time.

Yes, Phish is a weird band, but Between Me and My Mind showed me, up close, that it’s a weird band fronted by a good man and his true friends, the kind of guys who remind you of your favorite uncles. The joy and laughter are contagious when Anastasio visits each member of Phish at their rustic, though very well-appointed, New England homes/studios to hash out the plan for the big “Soul Planet” performance. After three decades as bandmates in one of the longest-running and most successful touring bands ever, it’s nice to see they’re not jaded, cocky, or otherwise over it. In fact, keyboardist Page McConnell tells Anastasio that he’s having as much fun now as he did when they first started playing together at the University of Vermont, at the Burlington bar Nectar’s in the ’80s. Anastasio reminisces that Sue—the woman who would become his wife—lived in an apartment nearby. Thirty-five years later, he says with a smile, and they’re still together. Maybe I’m biased because my husband and I also met in college 18 years ago, but the nostalgic moments in Between Me and My Mind moved me deeply: They seemed to say that friends, loves, and the dreams you have when you’re young can actually last.

Of course, jam god though he may be, Anastasio isn’t perfect, and the film acknowledges as much in its own way—that he was arrested in 2006 for possession of heroin and other drugs and driving while intoxicated; Phish broke up from 2004 to 2009. Between Me and My Mind never spells that out for the viewer in text on the screen like other rockumentaries might; it assumes you already know the backstory and, in lighter scenes, are in on all of the jokes. It is a film made primarily for phans (and well-informed, open-minded wives of). But the lack of traditional, overt explanation also makes the narrative feel more intimate and personal—like when Trey and Sue Anastasio walk hand in hand on the boardwalk of the Jersey Shore, and she tells him that, when he was using, she was scared he would die. When the phone rang on the night of his arrest, in fact, she thought someone was calling to tell her that he had. But when he asks if she ever regretted marrying him, she shakes her head no.

Between Me and My Mind also hinted at the question of when, if ever, Phish will retire—perhaps return my husband to me for cozy New Year’s Eves at home with Champagne and takeout, like regular people? It wasn’t the answer a Phish wife dreams of: Anastasio references Martin Scorsese’s the Band documentary, The Last Waltz, in which lead guitarist Robbie Robertson says he can’t bear the thought of 20 years on the road. Anastasio, on the other hand, disagrees, saying something like, “I’m going to be doing this forever.” The crowd went wild, my husband rejoiced, and after seeing this movie, I can’t exactly blame him. Anastasio is the furthest thing from a megalomaniacal rock star; if my husband must go to Vegas and MSG and SPAC, at least it’s for a worthy person.

A Helpful Guide to Nailing Your Oscars Acceptance Speech

The Oscars is trying it without a host this year, proving that even the Academy knows that after 91 years, it’s time for some change-ups. But while red carpet trends may come and go, there’s one awards show staple that we can always count on: the speeches.

The awards show acceptance speech is a historically hard one to truly perfect—not every attendee arrives prepared, for one thing—but when a good one is carried off, it’s really something to behold. As the founders of an international speech-writing service, we thought it would be a good time to provide a go-to guide to the art of the expertly delivered acceptance. (Even if you’re not nominated this year, who knows what the future will bring?) So without further ado, we’ve rounded up our favorites from Academy Awards history, all of which prove that whether you’re delivering a maid of honor toast or accepting a best picture trophy, there are certain speech-giving rules that will guarantee you a “standing O”—on whatever stage you find yourself.

Use the below historical Oscar moments as your guide to giving a great speech. And if all else fails? Keep it brief, keep it heartfelt, and, please, don’t forget to thank your family. (They won’t forget it.)

PRO TIP #1: HOOK THEM IN
Shirley MacLaine, Best Actress for Terms of Endearment (1984)

Faced with a program that tends to run way too long, you’d better believe that the Academy producers are itching to hit that play-off music button, so there’s no time to waste. MacLaine does it right by coming out of the gate with a hysterical opening line—“I’m going to cry, because this show has been as long as my career”—that both breaks the ice, gets the audience on her side, and sets the tone for her whole speech. It’s also just self-deprecating enough that when she one-eightys at the end, clutching her Oscar and proclaiming she really deserves it, everyone, even her fellow nominees, cheer her on.

PRO TIP #2: SHARE THE AIR

John Legend and Common, Best Original Song, “Glory,” from Selma (2015)

It’s obvious Common and Legend have had lots of practice on award stages, because joint speeches are incredibly tough, and these two make it look easy. (It’s hard to know when to pick up the mic and when to hand it over, but they expertly planned it out.) The key: Even though there are two speakers, there’s one cohesive speech. Legend’s portion builds off of Common’s, culminating in a poignant tearjerker. Not even John Travolta’s bizarre amount of face touching could bring it down.

PRO TIP #3: KEEP IT SHORT AND SWEET
Julie Andrews, Best Actress for Mary Poppins (1965)

It may be the most tried tip in speech-giving history, but it’s also the truest: When in doubt, just keep it short and sweet. Andrews’s 1965 best actress speech clocks in at just about 30 seconds, managing to both leave the audience wanting more without skimping on the sentiment. (She thanks the whole of America, which is actually a sort of genius method of ensuring you don’t forget any names or lose the crowd by rattling off every agent and manager and hairstylist and PA you’ve ever worked with.)

PRO TIP #4: EXPRESS YOURSELF
Halle Berry, Best Actress for Monster’s Ball (2002)

In 2002, Berry became the first black woman to win the Academy Award for best actress, and while meeting that historic and overdue moment may have been daunting, she certainly brought it all: She communicates the magnitude of the moment, and makes us feel it, too, delivering poignant “thank yous” to the black actresses who came before her and paved the way. Even when the show’s producers try to count her off, her (appropriate) frustration is winning. She shakes her Oscar and shouts, “I’ve got to take this time—74 years here!” It culminates with Berry pumping her fist and jumping in the air. All of which remind us why she’s won best actress in the first place.

PRO TIP #5: STICK TO YOUR THEME
Viola Davis, Best Supporting Actress for Fences (2017)

Before Davis even accepts her best supporting actress Oscar in 2017, the audience is already on their feet—Davis does her part by giving them good reason to stay there. Every good speech has one theme that’s woven throughout: Davis’s is about living. She explains that the stories she wants to tell belong to the people who came before her, whose lives were frequently ignored, saying: “I became an artist—and thank God I did—because we are the only profession that celebrates what it means to live a life.” And when she closes out her time, she returns to her theme, thanking her husband and daughter for teaching her every day how to live. It’s cohesive, and powerful, and it’s about something far bigger than an awards show—Oscar gold.

PRO TIP #6: GIVE THE PEOPLE WHAT THEY WANT
Matthew McConaughey, Best Actor for Dallas Buyers Club (2014)

It’s important to remember that a good speech is not all about you. Consider the people in the room: What do they want to hear? How do they want to feel? It’s an easy, almost hokey trick, but McConaughey gives the people what they what when he closes his best actor speech with his iconic Fast Times at Ridgemont High tagline: “Alright, alright, alright.” As he holds his Oscar close, that line also serves to remind the audience just how far he’s come.

PRO TIP #7: TELL A STORY
Jordan Peele, Best Screenplay for Get Out (2018)

Great speeches tell stories, and stories need a beginning, middle, and end. It’s no surprise that Peele, the winner for best screenplay, got that straight away. He starts off by setting the scene, admitting that he put down his pen nearly 20 times while writing Get Out, only to pick it up a 21st. The middle is all about the people who helped him create it. And the end is the resolution: victory. Peele also involves the audience, reminding everybody watching that everyone who bought tickets, told their friends—and screamed at the screen—is a part of this journey, too.

PRO TIP #8: NOVELTY OVER EVERYTHING
Best Picture, Moonlight (2016)

When you’re delivering a speech, there are expected variables—bad lighting or play-off music or bored seat fillers—but we doubt the 2016 winners for best picture could have ever anticipated their names would be called halfway through someone else’s speech. So though novelty may not have not been Barry Jenkins and Adele Romanski’s original intention for their speech, it’s certainly something no one will ever forget. Despite the truly insane mix-up, they’re somehow able to fold in the drama without letting it overshadow their big moment. It’s the definition of a memorable moment that people will be talking about the next day—and isn’t that exactly what you’re hoping for?

We Need to Talk About Outlander Season 4

The season finale of Outlander airs this Sunday. The popular Starz series (based on Diana Gabaldon’s best-selling novels of the same name) racks up about 1.5 million viewers each week for its enviable blend of historical fiction and romance, fantasy and sci-fi—think of it like a mishmash of Downton Abbey, Braveheart, and The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, but with a strong feminist undercurrent. Unsurprisingly, women make up a huge portion of the fan base.

If you’re unfamiliar with the series, the show stars Caitriona Balfe as British combat nurse Claire Randall (a role that recently garnered her a fourth Golden Globe nomination), and the story begins with her visiting Inverness, Scotland, with her husband, just after the end of World War II. The pair are attempting to rekindle after their wartime separation and end up witnessing a traditional Druid dance at an ancient mystical site; Claire later returns alone and is somehow transported back to the Highlands in 1743, where she meets James “Jamie” Fraser, played by Sam Heughan. (While Heughan may, at face value, look like mere man candy in a kilt, once you become fully immersed in the show—and you will—you realize he’s so much more. So much so that he’s inspired a legion of fans to dub themselves “the Heuglighans.”) Once transported, Claire becomes caught up in the Jacobite risings—the attempt by the Catholic Charles Edward Stuart (aka Bonnie Prince Charlie) to regain the British throne for the House of Stuart—and ultimately, worlds and at least one metaphysical plane away from her husband, she falls madly, deeply, and passionately in love with Jamie.

Several seasons in, Claire and Jamie (aka the hottest couple on TV) have been through the ringer. There was the culture shock that one would suspect goes along with time travel, and then lots of flogging, war, prison time, sexual assault, rape, the loss of a child, separation, pirates, smugglers, and smallpox, among their many other trials. At the end of season three, Claire and Jamie arrive (via shipwreck, no less!) on the coast of Georgia in 1767. Season four picks up in the Carolinas.

Right off the bat, there are things not to like: Jamie’s bangs for one, a couple of pivotal miscastings for another, a plantation set (which, FYI, was actually shot in Scotland) that feels a little too Disney-esque, and yes, the fact that at times it can all skew very Days of Our Lives—but the subject matter is still shockingly resonant. In one early scene, Claire and Jamie stare out at an expansive view of the Appalachians, and she speaks about the American dream. She tells him about how the United States will take shape and the immigrants who will inhabit it. She addresses the injustices and barbarianism of slavery and explains how Native Americans, much like Highlanders, will have their lands taken from them and their traditions misappropriated. On the heels of an MLK weekend dominated with headlines about teens wearing MAGA hats facing off with Native American elder Nathan Phillips in Washington, D.C., and legions of football fans still employing the “tomahawk chop” in Arrowhead Stadium, a storyline that touches on the unique struggles of indigenous people feels ripped from the news, even if it’s set in the 18th century.

While it’s all admittedly a bit heavy for a series most famous for its very realistic “did they just show that?!” rolls in the hay, Outlander has always been after more than just cheap thrills. Though it’s a show that has always shaken off any claims of a political agenda, getting this particular storyline—set against the birth of a nation—right actually feels a lot like having a political point of view, especially at this moment in our American history. If Claire represents a more liberal way of thinking from the future, Jamie is her alpha male foil from the past. They both need each other to navigate this place where they’ve decided to plant their flag and call home, and their relationship flourishes when they listen to what the other has to say and compromise.

From the beginning, the overarching theme of Outlander has been that Jamie is a better man for having met Claire. He is challenged and changed by this union with a whip-smart woman who always lives her truth. She forces him to question everything he once knew. He may be thought of as the “King of Men,” but she’s the power behind the throne. This isn’t just a “behind every great man, there’s an even greater woman” tale, though—Claire learns just as much from Jamie as he does from her.

There’s a scene in the finale where the couple risks being separated yet again, and they clutch each other to say their goodbyes. You can feel the heat between them, all these years later, but there’s also respect, commitment, and a deep love for everything they’ve built together with an equal partner in a new land—things we should all try to remember and emulate as we cling to those we love and try to make sense of where we are right now.

Barack Obama Shares His Annual End of Year List, and As Usual, It’s Really Good

Barack Obama—recently dubbed America’s most admired man, courtesy of an annual Gallup poll—has once again cemented his reputation as our most culturally astute (and certainly most culturally aware) president, sharing his annual list of his favorite literary, cinematic, and musical output from the year. As we’ve come to expect from the former president, his taste is both wide-ranging and deep, au courant and classic in scope, with books and films that focus on the world’s increasingly divisive sociopolitical issues (Educated, The Broken Ladder, How Democracies Die, Why Liberalism Failed, Leave No Trace, Shoplifters, Burning, An American Marriage, The New Geography of Jobs) and the latest tomes from a rising class of literary lions (Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Lisa Halliday, Zadie Smith, Tommy Orange, Lauren Groff) as well as some offerings from recently departed purveyors of classics (Denis Johnson, V.S. Naipaul).

Movies like BlacKkKlansman and Black Panther, If Beale Street Could Talk, and Eighth Grade all make appearances, as does Alfonso Cuarón’s Roma, Chloe Zhao’s The Rider, and the beloved Mr. Rogers documentary, Won’t You Be My Neighbor. His musical tastes swing from Beyoncé and Jay-Z to Brandi Carlile and Bad Bunny. (If the former president becomes bored with writing his forthcoming book, grassroots organizing, and his visits to sick children in local hospitals, we would welcome his contribution to the Vogue culture section, where we’re happy to report our tastes really quite neatly align.)

Oh—and in case you needed another reason to love it, Obama tops his list with a shout-out to his wife, Michelle, whose excellent memoir Becoming continues to top best-of lists both at Vogue and beyond, as well as best seller rankings. Below, Barack Obama’s end-of-year list in its entirety:

“As 2018 draws to a close, I’m continuing a favorite tradition of mine and sharing my year-end lists,” Obama wrote in a post on Facebook on Friday morning. “It gives me a moment to pause and reflect on the year through the books, movies, and music that I found most thought-provoking, inspiring, or just plain loved. It also gives me a chance to highlight talented authors, artists, and storytellers—some who are household names and others who you may not have heard of before. Here’s my best of 2018 list—I hope you enjoy reading, watching, and listening.”

Here’s a reminder of the books that I read this year that appeared on earlier lists:
Becoming by Michelle Obama (obviously my favorite!)
An American Marriage by Tayari Jones
Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
The Broken Ladder: How Inequality Affects the Way We Think, Live, and Die by Keith Payne
Educated by Tara Westover
Factfulness by Hans Rosling
Futureface: A Family Mystery, an Epic Quest, and the Secret to Belonging by Alex Wagner
A Grain of Wheat by Ngugi wa Thiong’o
A House for Mr. Biswas by V.S. Naipaul
How Democracies Die by Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt
In the Shadow of Statues: A White Southerner Confronts History by Mitch Landrieu
Long Walk to Freedom by Nelson Mandela
The New Geography of Jobs by Enrico Moretti
The Return by Hisham Matar
Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe
Warlight by Michael Ondaatje
Why Liberalism Failed by Patrick Deneen
The World As It Is by Ben Rhodes

Here are my other favorite books of 2018:
American Prison by Shane Bauer
Arthur Ashe: A Life by Raymond Arsenault
Asymmetry by Lisa Halliday
Feel Free by Zadie Smith
Florida by Lauren Groff
Frederick Douglass: Prophet of Freedom by David W. Blight
Immigrant, Montana by Amitava Kumar
The Largesse of the Sea Maiden by Denis Johnson
Life 3.0: Being Human in the Age of Artificial Intelligence by Max Tegmark
There There by Tommy Orange
Washington Black by Esi Edugyan

My favorite movies of 2018:
Annihilation
Black Panther
BlacKkKlansman
Blindspotting
Burning
The Death of Stalin
Eighth Grade
If Beale Street Could Talk
Leave No Trace
Minding the Gap
The Rider
Roma
Shoplifters
Support the Girls
Won’t You Be My Neighbor

And finally, my favorite songs of 2018:
“Apes**t” by The Carters
“Bad Bad News” by Leon Bridges
“Could’ve Been” by H.E.R. (feat. Bryson Tiller)
“Disco Yes” by Tom Misch (feat. Poppy Ajudha)
“Ekombe” by Jupiter & Okwess
“Every Time I Hear That Song” by Brandi Carlile
“Girl Goin’ Nowhere” by Ashley McBryde
“Historia de un Amor” by Tonina (feat. Javier Limón and Tali Rubinstein)
“I Like It” by Cardi B (feat. Bad Bunny and J Balvin)
“Kevin’s Heart” by J. Cole
“King for a Day” by Anderson East
“Love Lies” by Khalid & Normani
“Make Me Feel” by Janelle Monáe
“Mary Don’t You Weep” (Piano & A Microphone 1983 Version) by Prince
“My Own Thing” by Chance the Rapper (feat. Joey Purp)
“Need a Little Time” by Courtney Barnett
“Nina Cried Power” by Hozier (feat. Mavis Staples)
“Nterini” by Fatoumata Diawara
“One Trick Ponies” by Kurt Vile
“Turnin’ Me Up” by BJ the Chicago Kid
“Wait by the River” by Lord Huron
“Wow Freestyle” by Jay Rock (feat. Kendrick Lamar)
And in honor of one of the great jazz singers of all time, who died this year, a classic album: The Great American Songbook by Nancy Wilson

In Mississippi Senate Race, Cindy Hyde-Smith Narrowly Defeats Democrat Mike Espy

In the end, it was not enough.

Not enough that Cindy Hyde-Smith, the Republican candidate in the Mississippi Senate run-off tonight, was caught on tape saying she would be willing to take a front row seat at a “public hanging” if one of her important supporters invited her—an odd offer, to say the least, in a state that, according to the NAACP, has a horrific history that includes 581 lynchings from 1882 to 1968, the most of any state in that period.

Not enough that Hyde-Smith, after visiting the home of Confederate President Jefferson Davis, took to social media and posted a photograph of herself sporting a confederate cap and calling the place, “Mississippi history at its best.”

Not enough that she sponsored one resolution to honor the last living daughter of a Confederate soldier, and another to re-name a road the “Jefferson Davis Memorial Highway.”

Not enough that she attended a “segregation academy”—one of the private essentially “Whites Only” schools, that were hastily set up in the state to circumvent the federally mandated integration of public schools; Hyde-Smith sent her daughter to one of these as well.

None of this shameful record was enough to hand victory to her opponent, Democrat Mike Espy. At a rally on Monday to bolster Hyde-Smith, President Trump said of Espy: “Oh, he’s far left. He’s out there. How does he fit in in Mississippi?”

Espy, a former congressman and U.S. secretary of agriculture, was born in Mississippi. He was the first African American to represent the state in Congress since Reconstruction. He would have made a fine senator, but it was not to be. Alas, not in Mississippi, at least not yet.

Bodyguard Is the Best Political Thriller Since Homeland

In 2011, when Homeland premiered, TV-streaming services were in their infancy. Ten years earlier, when 24 debuted on Fox, the idea of “appointment television” was pretty much just how television worked: You watched the shows when they were on, or you taped them. Which is to say, a thriller was a thriller, constructed of cliff-hangers and carefully calibrated revelations that (ideally) left you hungry for more. “Bingeing” was a concept reserved for Doritos or donuts.

Now, of course, Netflix, Amazon, Hulu, and the like give insomniacs new friends, and ruin (or make, depending on your perspective) entire weekends. Who needs sunshine when you have the latest season of Transparent to fritter away with the Pfeffermans? And for high-stakes dramas, the game has shifted: What does it mean to be left on the edge of your seat when you can just sit back and click your way to the next episode? Releasing a thriller that has already premiered in another country to the kind of rapturous reviews that cause a minor cultural quake (and garners ratings to rival the World Cup) is an even trickier endeavor. Which is also to say: If you’d like to partake of the phenomenal new six-part BBC show that is Bodyguard, released today in its entirety on Netflix, you’re going to have to try pretty hard to avoid the spoilers.

But you should. (Spoiler alert: I’m going to talk about things that happen in the first episode, but I’ll limit it to that.) Bodyguard is probably the best political thriller since Homeland, and like Homeland it’s a thriller that is more than the sum of its parts. The show opens with our hero, Sergeant David Budd (Richard Madden), riding a train with his two small children, returning from a visit to his mother’s. He’s an off-duty policeman, but he’s never really off-duty. When he sees a harried-looking conductor scanning passengers, he knows something foul is afoot. Before we know it, he’s confronting a terrified female suicide bomber who has frozen with her finger hovering above the trigger.

Budd flashes her a photo of his kids in the next train compartment and tells her that she doesn’t have to do it. He was a soldier in Afghanistan, he says to her, and people like them are just the pawns that die in someone else’s struggle—unless they chose not to. His equanimity and empathy does not extend to the rest of his colleagues, who quickly set up a sniper to take her out. Aware that this is the likely direction of events, he grabs her in an embrace so that they can’t kill her unless they kill him, too.

Bodyguard is filled with these kinds of unlikely convergences, and at the same time, the people you expect to prop each other up are alienated, unspoken traumas dividing them from communion. When Budd returns his kids to the London split-level where they live with their mom, she rebuffs him when he leans in for a goodnight kiss. Something is rotten, and we don’t know what. Later in the same episode, Budd is rewarded for his bravery on the train by being appointed the bodyguard of the Home Secretary, Julia Montague (Keeley Hawes), a bellicose political climber who believes that increased surveillance is essential to security. Budd attaches himself to her, riding in her car, casing her apartment to make sure there are no hazards hiding amid the muted grays of the wallpaper and the waffle-weave blankets on the bed. He stays so long in this intimate, domestic space that she has to eventually make the official request that he “fuck off.” A bodyguard makes his charge uncomfortable, a mother and a father fail to kiss, a terrorist hugs a cop—the shifting alliances essential to any political thriller are made brilliantly, physically evident in this show.

That brilliance loses some of its acuity as the episodes progress; the intrigue becomes so dizzyingly complex that the control of the early episodes is somewhat wasted. And the show has been (lightly) criticized for turning Budd into something of a cipher. It’s true that Madden gives a laconic performance that includes long periods of standing around, watching, and occasionally muttering into a walkie-talkie earpiece. But what his character lacks in loquacity, he makes up for with his steely gaze and rigid jaw. (In the vein of Claire Danes’s wavering chin, I hereby nominate Richard Madden’s jaw for an entry into the annals of legendary televised facial features.) In fact, it’s partly Madden’s withdrawn mystery that makes his occasional interjections all the more delightful. When Budd tries to move Montague away from an aggressive MP, who responds by asking the Home Minister to call off “her monkey,” Budd (seemingly Caucasian) deftly defuses the situation by cooly informing the MP that he’s “mixed race”— a lie that preys on the MP’s own desire to avoid bad PR, and allows Budd and Montague a swift exit.

Budd’s blankness allows that central tropes of the political thriller genre—that people are not what they seem—to play out all over his face. It’s hard not to feel sympathy for a cop who goes out of his way to save a train full of innocents and the life of a young terrorist who he thinks has been brainwashed by more nefarious characters, and yet, there’s an unsettling chilliness to his demeanor. Is his stoicism the mark of a consummate professional, or does it mask something more sinister? Madden’s face is the kind of canvas that you want to watch for clues.

Brett Kavanaugh Says “I Said and Did Things in High School That Make Me Cringe Now” as Even More Disturbing Allegations Emerge

Michael Avenatti, heretofore best known as Stormy Daniels’s attorney, delivered on his promise to launch new allegations against Donald Trump’s Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh on Wednesday. In a sworn statement, Avenatti’s client, Julie Swetnick, a Washington, D.C., resident and a government employee who knew Kavanaugh as a teen, makes a new disturbing and damning accusation of sexual misconduct, including that Kavanaugh and his friend Mark Judge grabbed girls without their consent, were among a group that “spiked” punch with drugs and/or grain alcohol at parties, and were lined up to take part in a “train” of boys that would “gang rape” incapacitated girls.

“I have reviewed Brett Kavanaugh’s recent claim on Fox News regarding his alleged ‘innocence’ during his high school years and lack of sexual activity,” says 55-year-old Swetnick, who has held Department of Defense and State Department security clearances and still holds other clearances. “This claim is absolutely false and a lie.”

Swetnick, who graduated from high school in Gaithersburg, Maryland, says she observed Kavanaugh’s predatory behavior while attending several high school house parties with him and Judge between 1981 and 1983; Dr. Christine Blasey Ford says she was assaulted by Kavanaugh in 1982. Echoing allegations from Ford and Kavanaugh’s Yale classmate Deborah Ramirez about the Supreme Court nominee’s drinking, Swetnick says she witnessed Kavanaugh “drink excessively” (to the point of being a “mean drunk”) and engage in “abusive and physically aggressive behavior toward girls,” including the “fondling and grabbing of girls without their consent” and “attempting to remove or shift girls’ clothing to expose private body parts.”

In a disturbing new allegation, Swetnick also claims that Kavanaugh and Judge were among the boys who spiked the punch at parties with drugs or grain alcohol in an attempt to “cause girls to lose their inhibitions and their ability to say ‘no.’ . . . I also witnessed efforts by Mark Judge, Brett Kavanaugh, and others to cause girls to become inebriated and disoriented so they could then be ‘gang raped’ in a side room or bedroom by a ‘train’ of boys,” Swetnick says in the sworn declaration. “I have a firm recollection of seeing boys lined up outside rooms at many of these parties waiting for their ‘turn’ with a girl inside the room. These boys included Mark Judge and Brett Kavanaugh.” (This corroborates the allegation recently made in The New Yorker by Elizabeth Rasor, Judge’s former girlfriend of about three years, that Judge “had told her ashamedly of an incident that involved him and other boys taking turns having sex with a drunk woman.”)

Like Ford and Ramirez, Swetnick and Avenatti are calling for an FBI investigation into the claims made against Kavanaugh. (The GOP has so far refused, saying such an investigation could have “no bearing” on the proceedings.) “Under no circumstances should Brett Kavanaugh be confirmed absent a full and complete investigation,” Avenatti wrote. And though her sworn testimony as a mere woman may not be enough to sway Republican hearts and minds, there’s the possibility that Swetnick’s background as a government employee may well help her to be seen as a very reliable witness. “I have no idea if Julie Swetnick is telling the truth. I can say this: submitting a sworn affidavit carries with it criminal liability if she perjured herself,” national security attorney Bradley P. Moss noted on Twitter. “As a clearance holder, giving perjured statements would be a career-ender. Take that for what it’s worth.”

In the prepared written testimony he’s expected to give Thursday before the Senate Judiciary Committee, Kavanaugh is expected to repeat that he “categorically” and “unequivocally” denies Ford’s allegations, and seemed to dismiss Ramirez’s allegation as part of “a frenzy to come up with something” to block his confirmation. But Kavanaugh notably added a bit more nuance to the squeaky-clean characterization of his high school self he recently deployed in a Fox News interview (in which he portrayed himself as a church-going virgin well into adulthood who was committed to sports and academics, “working on my service projects, and friendship”). Today, that message has veered off-course, and more toward the usual “boys will be boys” terrain: “I was not perfect in those days, just as I am not perfect today. I drank beer with my friends, usually on weekends. Sometimes I had too many,” Kavanaugh wrote in his prepared remarks. “In retrospect, I said and did things in high school that make me cringe now. But . . . I never did anything remotely resembling what Dr. Ford describes.”

Ford, for her part, submitted four affidavits on Wednesday to back up her allegation against Kavanaugh: They include statements from her husband, Russell Ford, and three friends whom she told about the alleged assault in the past. “She said that in high school she had been trapped in a room and physically restrained by one boy who was molesting her while another boy watched,” Russell Ford wrote. “She said she was eventually able to escape before she was raped, but that the experience was very traumatic because she felt like she had no control and was physically dominated . . . I remember her saying the attacker’s name was Brett Kavanaugh, that he was a successful lawyer who had grown up in Christine’s home town, and that he was well-known in the Washington, D.C., community.” He’s even more well known now.