THE MATINEE
My name is Lester Bangs and I am obsessed with movies. I have been my whole life. This obsession often commandeers my thoughts by overlaying what I’m seeing IRL with iconic scenes from my favorite movies. On this site and in my newsletter I share those stories and include the movie clips they reference. I also include some fun ones from my readers.
Come and join The Matinee.
August 22, 2025
"Its so close.”
I’m a bit ashamed to say it but I still channel surf. Streaming has made intentional TV watching so easy and because I’m completely insane I have multiple lists of movies and TV shows that I’ve researched and want to watch. So why do I still revert to the nonsensical malaise of channel surfing? There’s no serendipity coming. Nothing to be gained from rewatching The Office or Seinfeld for the hundredth time. I don’t need to watch Bobby Flay make a roux. I don’t even know what the fuck a roux is.
Fortunately when the frustration from this overtly stupid act grows enough I often find myself landing on the History channel. I can get lost in even a mediocre doc on World War II, which was awful in millions of ways but time and television have figured out to glorify the men and what they were able to accomplish. These programs do a fine job of telling the facts while still delivering much of the drama felt by the masses and attached to the decisions made by military leaders. But they can’t show the carnage on the ground. We can’t see the faces of the men storming the beaches or stuck in the trenches. No. That footage doesn’t exist, at least not in unedited, upfront capture of the men on the front lines. Not their faces or their fears. Instead, we rely on dramatic depictions and some of our better filmmakers do justice for these men by showing truly how impossible it was on the ground and how courageous they were for braving it.
August 19, 2025
"One ball. One swing. One…pelican.”
I like golf. Golf doesn’t like me but I don’t let that bother me too much. At 40 the list of age appropriate competition is not as long as it once was. The list of things you can convince your now out of shape friends to participate in is short. And the list of sports you can play while drinking is finite. Golf lives in the intersection of these three things. I’m in between job right now so I was able to get out twice this week. It was a mix of beauties that I can’t believe came off my club and shanks that add to the everlasting shame my dad has thought of my game after years of coaching. But one shot stood out better than the rest. It was one of those this-goes-against-my-better judgment shots when you should just lay up because the likelihood that you’ll make it under one tree and over another is close to zero. But fuck it, right? I nailed that little window and put it 3ft from the hole while the strangers I paired up with cheered me on. Those shots get you coming back and though it still wasn’t as good as Tin Cup’s shot from the US Open bar, it was in the same category. Of course Tin Cup wouldn’t have missed the 3 footer like I did.
August 15, 2025
"Why can’t you just be normal?”
Let me start by saying I love my 2yr old. He’s so fun and adorable. He challenges me in so many ways, most often for the better. And being his dad is the single greatest thing I’ve ever done in my life. Its also the hardest. I don’t want to say he’s completely unreasonable because that’s inaccurate, but he’s mostly unreasonable. While we do try to explain as much of the world and way it is the way it is, we don’t practice soft parenting. Its not that we do or do not believe in it, but more simply because we can’t stop ourselves from saying ‘no’ sometimes.
“No, dont paint the walls.”
“No, don’t throw your toys over the balcony.”
“No, don’t push your brother down the stairs.”
These are immediate reactions to unruly behavior. Before we can get to an explanation this kid is able to unleash the loudest, fiercest 2yr old cry. These are serious decibels that could be heard two blocks away. Reasoning with him during the wails is usually ineffective. We have to wait for the cyclical silent cries to get a word in. The frequency and the ferocity is so difficult to manage. And though I believe all parents go through this to some extent, in these moments it's hard not to think why can’t my kid just be one of the easy ones.
August 12, 2025
"Am I being fired?”
My wife got laid off today. She worked for a company that’s been in a dramatic tailspin for years so this was not the biggest of surprises. Still, waking up to news that your company is doing layoffs then getting that disgusting 15min on your calendar is a fuckin gut punch before 7am. I know because I got nailed with the body blow less than two years ago. Of course there’s relief knowing you’re no longer tethered to such a toxic organization, but that was the devil you knew. The blank canvas in front of you is terrifying, especially when you’re forced on to it unexpectedly. I know we’ll get through this. It's all a matter of how long and how painful it will be. Employment will be found. Money earned. We just need to minimize the scars. And its my turn to be as amazing to her as she was to me when I got punched in the gut.
Andy exhibits that surprise as good as anyone. Though his organization was toxic for different reasons and his termination was malicious and not business-driven, the surprise hits the same. His breath is just completely ripped out of him and it hurts to watch and to relive.
August 8, 2025
"Shoot me.”
One of my favorite places in the US is the Magic Castle. For those who’ve never heard of it, the Magic Castle is something of a performance venue for magicians in Hollywood. You need to be invited by a paid member, get dressed up, and attend a sit down dinner before entering the show floors. Here everyone is a magician. They have formal rooms where scheduled seated shows are hosted by some of the more accomplished performers while the hallways are filled with a handful of vetted mentalists and magicians willing to show you their favorite tricks. My favorites are the bartenders who have the dexterity to make you a Manhattan while guessing your card.
These trips dont happen often. When they do I’m often rolling in with a crew of six to ten, dressed to the nines, and ready to get tipsy (alcohol and magic are a perfect pair). Invariably we’re always trying to debunk each trick but the Manhattans make it all the more challenging. In those rare occurrences when one of us does figure it out, feelings of emptiness and regret replace the excitement of not knowing. Logic and causality sucks. Even the faintest belief in the supernatural is what makes magicians so entertaining and the Magic Castle so awesome. Why can’t we just be enamored enough not to question? I wish I knew the answer to that riddle.
August 5, 2025
"It’s smiling at me.”
Our home came with a gardener. He is a very nice man that comes every two weeks to mow our tiny lawn, trim our shrubs, and do other gardener shit. I like him a lot but we struggle to communicate. I asked him to throw the loose grass in the compost and he started taking our recycling to the curb. After screwing with the sprinkler system, I asked him if he could make sure everything was getting enough water but when approached a few weeks later he told me that all plants need water. Its a simple language issue where his English and my Spanish are not good enough to speak or listen confidently in each other’s tongue.
The latest issue came this past week. We have a goofy U-shaped smile design in our front bushes. It almost looks like something crafted by Edward Scissorhands. My wife hates it so she asked me to ask him to even it out, to allow the middle to grow to the height of the two sides. He nodded in agreement but when I came out to take the compost to the curb (we figured that out) he had chopped down the two high points to meet the low middle. He cut off all the beautiful green leaves down to the ugly brown bush branches. I couldn't help but crack up. This lovely man just decapitated our bushes. It reminded me of when the duck was decapitated in front of Ralphie’s family on Christmas Day.
August 1, 2025
"We’re all smart, Jeremy”
Sometimes ESTHER isn’t playing full scenes. Instead it’s one line over and over again. And sometimes that one line hits me in the same spot. I work with a bunch of impressive resumes in an environment where we’re often expected to be brilliant and somewhat theatrical in front of clients and colleagues at a moment’s notice. Now there’s a well established script for faking it and the industry is full of Oscar winners. To get your foot in the door you had to get through a gauntlet of gates and interview checkpoints so these folks have been vetted. But to be special in this line of work it takes something more than having the background and knowing the lines. When those moments pop up, and they do frequently, these accomplished folks look around the room and think ‘Who’s it gonna be? Me?” Answering for myself isn’t meant to question my own self worth (i.e. “Conscience doth makes cowards of us all”). Instead, the line I play back is simply “We’re all smart, Jeremy.”
We’re all smart, Lester. What else you got?
July 29, 2025
"I have nipples, Greg. Can you milk me?”
Last week we visited my in-laws. Its funny how many stereotypes play out over the course of a weekend. An odd way of doing things, an odd way of communicating, a general oddness - all wrapped up as side dishes to the very normal daughter I fell in love with. Causally this makes no sense unless you’re looking closely at the margins. After years the margins are clearer now and that oddness mirrors my wife's unique idiosyncrasies that I’ve grown to love. I guess its the packaging that can make them come off as lovely or odd. Though, putting the foot on the other shoe, any potential son / brother-in-law taking about their nipples in any setting is definitely odd.
July 25, 2025
"Is that a raincoat?”
One thing that unites us is everyone’s love for a guilty pleasure. These socially embarrassing nuggets often come in the form of food or music. On the music front I have an absurd amount of songs that would leave anyone from my macho friend groups, colleagues, or casual acquaintances questioning my character and/or masculinity. I know way too many Broadway musicals line by line. I’ve memorized the catalogues of so many divas from Aretha to Whitney to Madonna. My music forward friends know me as the jam band / alt rock loving rager, but behind the scenes I’m listening to the soundtracks from Moana, Frozen, and Encanto. It really is pathetic.
Sharing these secret songs is an absolute no no. I dont want to feel self conscious about knowing all the words to "Always be my baby". And what if my cronies laugh at me and taint the song forever. No way man. Uh uh. Better to keep my pleasures guilty and reserved for solo time. Laughing at one’s love of Huey Lewis shouldn’t be a motive, but I kinda get it.
July 22, 2025
"Who needs a new song? This old one's all we need."
If you want to goad me into monologuing poke me with a question about the role of music in film. Nothing gets me going more. When debating over what contributes most to how we feel movies, I will put score and song up against any other category. They’re transformative. You might know a song all your life, but overlayed on the right scene can change the meaning for you forever (i.e. “Layla” in Goodfellas). Score - perhaps my favorite Academy category - infuses every scene sometimes painfully (i.e. Requiem for a Dream). And originals, literally music you’ve never heard before, sisters with the scenes you’ve never seen before to commandeer your senses with something wholly unique. ESTHER plays this melodies in my head all day long, often only needing one note to trigger the clip and the emotion. Or it will be a rewatch which leaves me whistling the score or humming the song for days or weeks.
Unfortunately most of my rewatches these days are dominated by my overbearing housemate who’s animated sing-a-longs play on repeat. I’m not saying these aren’t good films. They are. They’re awesome. But when I’m in the gym or in a meeting I hate that Moana is on loop though we haven’t watched it in weeks. In a malicious act to share the burden, here our girl is singing with her xenophobic parents.
July 18, 2025
“Get away from those alarms.”
I had to go into the bank last week. I'm a millennial so I go into a bank every 30 years or so. I have no idea why so many retail locations still exist. Anyway, as any normal person would, I start to case the place. Safe is over there. Cameras there, there, and there. No security. I can totally out run the staff, submiss them if the situation calls for it. Make sure to avoid the ink pack and the trigger bills at the bottom of the register.
Cerebral is the kind of bank robber I’d be. Not the sneaky type that hones in on one teller. Not the aggressive type who shoves a gun in your face and might take out a hostage or two. No way. I’m timing it. I’m not going to get greedy by hitting the fault. And I’m not going to get my hands too dirty. That’s how you get caught.
As these thoughts race through my head, I see the first bank employee approach us. One of the best film-educated bank robbers in history just entered his location and he has no idea. As I finish my assessment as cool as Clyde Barrow, he asks me “How can I help you today?”
“We’d like help opening a 529.”
You got off easy this time, bro.
July 11, 2025
“Lets get some fuckin French toast.”
Last Thursday my wife had a girls night. She went to some party in the Hollywood Hills for a viewing of a new trash reality show called Traitors (note: “trash” when defining television doesn’t necessarily mean it stinks).
After months inside with a newborn and weeks fighting off bronchitis, it was good for her to get out with the girls and blow off some steam. At least I thought it was.
At 10:30pm (90min past her usual bedtime) I get the first call from one of her girlfriends. They’re 30 minutes out and she’s passed out in the car. 20 minutes later I get the second call, where the girlfriend asks me to meet them in the driveway and to “bring towels”. No need to get into the details from there as we’re all familiar with the scene. Perhaps the best depiction comes from Leslie Mann craving “some fuckin Franch Toast.”
Movie: 40 Year Old Virgin
Spoiler Meter: 🙂
July 4, 2025
“Well, that outta do it.”
I did something stupid last week. Stupid and a little bit lucky. For Christmas i got my wife a fire table. Its one of those outdoor coffee tables with a strip down the middle for a gas fire. It was a little more than I wanted to spend but she had been asking for one for some time. It's designed for a simple propane tank hookup but comes with a conversion kit to use your house’s natural gas. Thinking it doesn’t make much sense to be replacing the tank all the time, I wanted to go the natural gas route. I decided that since I have absolutely no experience with gas hook-ups or simply anything that comes out of a pipe, I would get a plumber to do the work. But when the plumber gave me a quote, my cheap ass decided I could do this myself (could?). Days after following the instructions and hooking this massive table up to the detonator, I decided to sit on the deck and watch the stars by the fire. Minutes later while relaxing with my feet up on the table the flame suddenly goes out then the whole thing jumps 6 inches off the ground. Fortunately my wife was putting our oldest to bed so it was just me out there but I wasn’t sober which made the experience all that more scary. It reminded me of an explosion that caught Butch by surprise (“Well that oughta do it”). Thinking back on both scenes just cracks me up.
Movie: Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
Spoiler Meter: 🙂
June 27, 2025
“Our little baby’s all growns up.”
Sometimes I’m so happy I just have to dance. Yes, dancing is more likely after a few drinks but fuck it. I’m loosened up and I don’t care, especially when my Iggles just won THE FUCKIN SUPER BOWL!!! Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past few days, you know that the local Philadelphia sports team absolutely dominated this generation’s juggernaut, the Kansas City Chiefs. I’ll claim to have called some of this. I knew we were better and I thought we were going to cruise to a victory just like this, but i was too scared and too superstitious to say much of anything beforehand. Well afterwards I’m ready to scream it from the rooftops. Sure I’m a little sauced after spending the game at my local Philly bar with 500 former strangers. But after a bunch of drinks and a wild night I’m ready for the griddle and a little table top dancing. Who does it better than a young Vince Vaughn?
Movie: Swingers
Spoiler Meter: 🤢
June 20, 2025
“Ok marines. It’s time to kickass.”
I try to maintain a steady diet of reading. On average, I’m reading about one book per month with a heavy lean on nonfiction as my thirst for knowledge has almost completely eclipsed my youthful love of novels. That thirst extends to periodicals, newsletters, and articles about the growingly complex world we live in. Since abandoning personal social media accounts, these news sources are where I now go to doom scroll. While The Matinee will never be a political or even news-based newsletter, the day’s topics often parent the clips that play on ESTHER (Epic Scenes and Takes Humming Endlessly on Repeat).
As the violence in Iran escalates I’ve been reading more about the US’s bunker buster, the 30,000lb bomb that could penetrate the Fordo nuclear facility where they’re enriching uranium. I have no idea if this is a good idea or a bad one - despite how many reruns of the A-Team I’ve seen, devastating military attacks are outside my purview. However, my common sense meter tells me it might be a bad idea to drop the biggest bomb in the world on the stuff that makes the most destructive bombs in the world. Are we sure we know what’s gonna happen? Arnold’s face shows my feelings.
February 21, 2025
“You’re funny.”
Last week I went away on my annual ski trip with the boys. We call it Winter Baste (yes, there is also a Summer Baste; no I will no explain the name). Its just the guys getting together to drink, ski and act foolish. We retell old jokes, catch up on grown-up shit like work and family life, and try to sprinkle a few new memories and moments of ridiculousness. Its roughly the same guys every year. Dudes I’ve known forever and feel eternally comfortable around. I love this trip. I love acting like we’re 25 again. I love the mix of shit-talking and encouragement on the mountain, dude soup in the hot tub, and the ridiculous awards we give each other at the closing night’s gala. But mostly I love the laughing. Its that cackle you get with only that perfect group of friends in the perfect setting. Like Tommy, Henry and the boys cracking up and the moment someone tries to get too serious we all say “Get the fuck outta here.”
Movie: Goodfellas
Spoiler Meter: 🙂
February 7, 2025
“I want to expose these people.”
I’m a sports fan. Actually, that’s inaccurate. I am an obsessed, completely unreasonable Philly sports fan. I was burdened with this fandom at birth same as my parents, my kids, and someday my grandkids. How my guys perform has such an effect on my life because I believe there is greatest there. I want them to realize it. This weekend my Eagles play in the Super Bowl. I have no doubt that they are the superior team. Actually, that’s inaccurate. I have no doubt that they are the baddest motherfuckers on the planet and can steamroll any and all chumps they put in front of us. Including and especially this team from Kansas City. They are that good. And when I think about what they need to do on the field I constantly replay this clip in my head from a great Coppola movie that has absolutely nothing to do with football. “I want to expose these people.” I want the world to see them destroyed. I want my Eagles to ride into glory as the greatest team that ever lived. I WANT TO FUCKIN EXPOSE THESE PEOPLE!!!!!!!
Movie: The Rainmaker
Spoiler Meter: 🙂