For years I’ve labored under an old model: I write things about movies, TV, theater, awards, etc. and wait for readers to find it. But recently I had a brilliant idea. What if instead of standing by the side of the road, sticking my leg out in the hopes that a passing driver will pick me up, I instead drove my own car straight into you. Okay, maybe that’s not the best metaphor—even if it does imply that, yes, I have seen It Happened One Night and therefore am a film expert.

What I’m trying to say is, I’m starting a newsletter because I wanted more direct access to you, dear reader, and I wanted you to have more direct access to me. It’s the ’90s, and this is what all the with-it, happening freaks are doing these days. So here we are. 

The hardest part of starting a newsletter is coming up with a name. I agonized over options for months. For a while I thought I should call it The Free Press, to communicate my abiding belief that heterodox thought is under attack in this country. But then I realized that calling my newsletter that would eventually lead to me starting a fake university in Austin and later running CBS News, and that seemed like a lot of work. 

So I moved on to other ideas. Maybe I could call it something cool and film-y: The Long Take, The Aperture, The Wide Shot. But those all started to sound more and more porny the more I thought about them, and they suggested a sort of nerdy seriousness that I don’t really want this thing to be. 

Well, I mean, there will be serious reviews here, and serious thought about the state of entertainment. (Serious, yes. Smart? You’ll be the judge!) But watching things is supposed to be a pleasurable pastime, even when the subject matter is really dark. Talking about it should be fun, too. Over the thousands of years that I’ve been doing this work, the most enjoyable conversations I’ve had about movies, TV, theater, etc. have happened in the immediate aftermath—whether I’m getting a Moët IV hooked up to my veins on some beach in Cannes or just walking to dinner with a friend. I love the immediacy of those first reactions: the giddiness of having seen something great, the ranting about something terrible. 

And that’s how I landed on Premiere Party. I want this newsletter to re-create some of that happy post-viewing chat. Sure I’ll be doing most of the talking, but anyone who’s been cornered by me at a Western saloon in Park City, Utah will tell you that’s usually how it goes anyway. 

What I plan to do here is pretty much what I’ve been doing my whole career. I’ll post reviews, essays, awards-season postulation, and for the first time in nearly a decade I’m gonna do some recapping. (I think I’m going to start with The Traitors, if that’s of interest...) Maybe over the course of the coming months and years my focus will shift as I gradually become radicalized into some sort of techno-libertarian AI doomsday cult. But for the time being I hope to serve up what I’m mostly already known for.

Only, this time I’m doing it on my own. There’s no Daddy Condé or Jean-George Atlantic peering over my shoulder anymore, so I can perhaps be a little looser with things, a little more free-form. At least, that’s the goal. I want to have fun writing about these art forms that I love, even when I hate what I’ve just seen. I think it’s going to be a good time, this little Premiere Party of mine, and I hope you’ll RSVP. 

And by RSVP I mean pay to be a subscriber. For the low, low cost of $10 a month, you’ll get full access to everything I write, plus special bonus dispatches (including those aforementioned recaps) and, sometime in the glittering future, even some video content. I’m also going to do occasional mailbag posts in which I answer your burning questions, and the best way to reach me will be as a paid subscriber. But perhaps the greatest perk you’ll receive for sending me your hard-earned money is my undying gratitude. Venturing into these wilds is a little daunting for a long-time company man like myself, and any little bit of help you’re willing and able to give me would make it all a bit less scary. 

Okay, that’s it for now. Next week I’ll be kicking things off with my list of the 20 best films of 2025, which of course will just be 20 separate paragraphs about the smash-hit Millie Bobby Brown blockbuster The Electric State. Hope to see you there, and thanks for reading.