Esquire USA - 10 2020 PDF
Esquire USA - 10 2020 PDF
Esquire USA - 10 2020 PDF
Exclusive: A Shocking
New Story from
Stephen King
12
EDITOR’S LETTER
THE NEXT
70 ON SLIDE INN ROAD
by Stephen King
The architect of your
7
MICHAEL SEBASTIAN JACK ESSIG
EDITOR IN CHIEF SVP, PUBLISHING DIRECTOR & CHIEF REVENUE OFFICER
Published at 300 West Fifty-seventh Street, New York, NY 10019-3797. Editorial offices: 212-649-4020. Advertising offices: 212-649-4050 ® www.esquire.com. Printed in the U. S. A.
THE FIRE STARTED BY THE GARBAGE CANS IN THE BUILDING’S COURTYARD. Since they were born, I’ve told our daughters that we’d never let any-
Someone had just moved out, leaving a pile of wooden furniture and an thing bad happen to them. I’d always thought it was a false promise,
old mattress. It’s unclear what ignited this pile of kindling and fuel—a because one day they’d be beyond our grasp. But now we were fulfilling
smoldering cigarette butt? an overworked heating duct?—but sometime that promise.
after midnight on a hot night in August, a spark set off a conflagration that A bottleneck had formed at the ladder on the second-floor landing, the
by 2:30 A.M. was raging. final stretch to reach the ground. When it was our turn, Sally handed Elaine
“Fire!” my wife, Sally, yelled to wake me. “Michael, fire!” I heard the to me and stepped onto the first rung. Stella was too big to carry; she had
pulsing shriek of smoke alarms and shouting coming from beyond our to climb down herself. “I can’t, Daddy,” she said. “My legs are shaking.”
front door before I fully opened my eyes. Through a haze of yellow smoke, I knelt down to her level and looked her in the eye. “You’re so brave,” I said.
I saw Kelsey Grammer. We’d fallen asleep to Frasier reruns. “You can do this.” She turned around and put her bare feet on the ladder,
I shot out of bed and into the hallway. Smoke was snaking along the with her mom just below her, and together they got down safely.
ceiling, creeping around the corners, circling my bare legs. Sally pushed Holding Elaine in my left arm, I wrapped my right around the side rail.
past me and into our daughters’ bedroom. I followed. She grabbed Elaine, With each step down the ladder, I had to let go, suspending us in the air
nearly two, from out of her crib; her screams joined the din. Stella, five, sat for a brief, terrifying moment before grabbing a hold once more. Once
up in bed, her hair in her face. She looked mystified. down, we joined Sally and Stella. Except for some small scratches and
I followed Sally to the front door. When she opened it, a heat wave bruises, we were unharmed.
knocked us back and black smoke poured in. She shut the door immedi- It was a two-alarm blaze that took the fire department hours to put out.
ately, and we headed back to our bedroom. A few people were hospitalized, but no one was seriously hurt. Parts of
We lived on the fourth floor. Outside was our lifeline, a century-old fire the building were destroyed. Water and broken glass covered the hall-
escape. We opened the window, and the acrid smoke gave way to the way floors. Windows were smashed out. Our unit was spared damage
thick air of late summer. The building is in Hamilton Heights, a Dominican from the fire and the water, but the stench of smoke clung to everything.
neighborhood in West Harlem named after the Founding Father, who We headed to a hotel for the night. Many of the building’s older tenants,
spent his final years in a mansion nearby. Cries echoed through the dark- some who’d lived there for decades, had nowhere else to go. Once the
ness. As Sally and the girls stepped onto the landing, I promised I’d be firefighters were done, they had to go back inside.
right back. “Buddy!” Stella said, panic in her eyes. Her stuffed dinosaur. This year has claimed so much from so many—COVID-19 has killed
She never slept without it. more than two hundred thousand Americans; wildfires and hurricanes
I pulled my shirt collar over my nose and plunged back into the smoke have driven hundreds of thousands from their homes; simmering tensions
to collect a few things. But what? Photographs, Social Security cards, have the nation tearing itself apart. Considering that Sally, the girls, and I
wedding vows? No time to think. I grabbed my wallet, clothes for the girls, made it out okay, and that we’re healthy, we count ourselves among the
face masks, medicine, and Buddy. lucky ones. We’re fortunate to have insurance and savings, and to have
Back on the fire escape, Sally scooped up Elaine, I grabbed Stella, and such generous family, friends, and colleagues. The kindness we received
we began our descent. Thinking now of how near we were to the edge, was overwhelming. I will never forget it.
MICHAEL SEBASTIAN
how rusted the fire escape was, and how fragile the girls felt in our arms, After two weeks of living out of hotels, Sally and I decided it was time
I’m paralyzed by fear. But in the moment, we couldn’t think, just act. Fourth to leave the city. Let’s rent a house, we figured, and reassess in a year.
floor to third. We kept reassuring one another that we were okay. Third And that’s the story of how I ended up moving to the suburbs of
floor to second. A step collapsed under Sally’s foot, but she remained New Jersey.
steady the whole way. —Michael Sebastian
10
T I M E T O R E AC H YO U R S TA R
DEFY
T H E F U T U R E O F S W I S S WATC H M A K I N G S I N C E 18 6 5
I T ’ S B E E N N E A R LY A Y E A R
since the virus that changed every-
thing arrived in America, and we’re
starting to grasp the impact the coro-
navirus will have on our bodies and
our communities. Before the pan-
At its food banks,
Feeding America demic, more than 37 million people
serves everything
from canned goods to
in this country lived in households
grab-and-go meals that couldn’t afford or didn’t have
T H I S WAY I N T H E C A L L
EVE EDELHEIT (“8729” SIGN). JARED SOARES (MASKED WORKERS). ARTURO OLMOS (REMAINING).
In partnership with
Feeding America,
Esquire and Hearst
Magazines are commit-
ted to putting an end
to hunger. To help food
THE NEXT
banks feed families
in need, please donate
at feedingamerica.org.
FRONT LINE
The coronavirus pandemic has left
millions of Americans facing the threat of food insecurity.
Here’s how you can do your part to help.
12
Part of the
Coppola
clan in
Napa,
including
Francis
and Sofia
(left) and
Roman
and
Eleanor
(right).
QUARANTINING WITH
THE GODFATHER
ANDREW DURHAM
What’s it like to spend seven months holed up with Francis Ford Coppola and
25 members of his family? For starters, wine, movies, and zero regrets.
by JEFF GORDINIER
15
AS QUARANTINES GO, FRANCIS FORD same year: 1979, when Apocalypse Now came
Coppola’s setup in the Napa Valley sounded out and the Coppola family started making
pretty sweet. wine in earnest. (Granted, members of his
I did a couple of Zoom conversations with family had been producing wine in their
the film director and winemaker over the sum- basements and backyards for decades.) “I
mer, and what he described, as I sat by my had spent all the money I had, between these
laptop with yet another tin of tuna, struck me various risky things I did,” he said. Making Get Mellow
as a sort of Italian-American midpandemic wine while making movies may sound like with Melo
Eden. Coppola and his family were seques- a magic formula for going colossally bank-
tered on the expansive acreage of the old rupt (hey, that’s happened to him, too), but A glass of S. R. Tonella
Inglenook estate that he and his wife, Elea- Coppola has managed to push through by with Anthony Anderson.
nor, had purchased back in 1975, when the repeatedly figuring out what the market- A hefty pour of Far
Coppolas were flush with cash from the first place wants next. Niente cabernet with
two Godfather films. And when I say “family,” “What is risk, really?” he told me. “Isn’t Jamie Foxx. Caymus
I mean much of Coppola’s extended clan, risk something that you undertake that’s uncorked at the sight of,
including his children and grandchildren and going to depend on timing? There are a lot well, any famous face.
nephews and apparently anyone else with a of gifts I don’t have, but one I do have is a The conceit of Carmelo
soft spot for cabernet sauvignon and wrap- sense of what’s going to be in the future. I Anthony’s weekly You-
around porches—about 25 people total, have often been right in my estimation of Tube talk show, What’s in
depending on the day, all coming together for what’s going to happen—in an almost Your Glass?, was simple:
group meals and film screenings. uncanny way.” And so, long before celebri- The NBA star and a guest
“When I saw this coming in January, I ties like Brad Pitt and Jon Bon Jovi got into would share a few sips
pushed an alert button,” Coppola, now 81 of their favorite vintages
years old, told me. “Now we’re sort of a fam- while catching up. But
ily bubble.” Naturally I found myself dream- “I DO NOT HAVE as COVID-19 forced us
ing about those film nights. Every Wednesday
and Saturday evening, the Coppola crew
GOD-GIVEN TALENT,” to stay home and a swell
of protests in support
COPPOLA SAID.
C U LT U R E & S T Y L E
versation, yeah, but that was a long pola said. “I looked at what I had up this world; why the
time ago, and over the past 30 or so here, and I took all the wines out, Death Row Records
THE WINE YOU WANT ON THE MENU.
years, he has devoted far more of his and I replaced them with all the best alum thinks it’s important
hours and energy to making wine wines that I had in the wine cellar. to own your own art. The
than to making movies. Coppola no Why not put out the best wines that entertainment factor,
longer belongs to the “find what you I have, because I don’t know how it’s worth noting, hasn’t
love and let it destroy you” school of much longer I’m going to live?” wavered. Anthony is a
creativity. If you’ve ever seen the 1991 Guzzle the stockpile? Yes, this charming, curious host.
documentary Hearts of Darkness, you strikes me as an eminently reason- But the show has
know that shooting Apocalypse Now able thing to do. Even when these become a perfect illus-
almost did destroy him. Coppola has tumultuous years have ended, I sus- tration of a man willing
become, instead, a walking testimo- pect I’ll look back on my Zoom ses- to meet this moment, and
nial to the virtues of multitasking— sions with Francis Ford Coppola as of our need to have the
and moving on. a gentle toast to the possibilities of a Big Conversations—best
In fact, the risk and reinvention second act. “Wine is a living thing,” conducted over a few
that led to the growth of his little he told me. “Time tends, just like ounces of red, of course.
Napa Valley utopia are rooted in the with a human being, to mellow it.” —Madison Vain
16
PASHA DE CARTIER WATCH ($16,600) BY CARTIER; JACKET ($1,520) BY CARUSO; SHIRT ($920) BY VISVIM, MRPORTER.COM.
MYSTERIOUS, and, honestly, HALF THE FUN
The legend of the Pasha de Cartier is MURKY,
THE PASHA DE CARTIER IS, AS THE STORY GOES,
T H E S HORT S TOR I E S TA L L TA L E S
by NICK SULLIVAN
Just one thing about that story: It’s not true. ¶ Why
the confusion? Record keeping and self-mythologiz-
ing, mostly. When its namesake fell from power, the
original Pasha watch supposedly disappeared. In
1943, a Cartier special order featured a watch with a
rounded case and a steel cage to protect the glass.
And 42 years later, in 1985, a watch bearing a striking
resemblance to that timepiece—brought to life by
Gérald Genta, the legendary watch designer behind
heavy hitters like the Audemars Piguet Royal Oak and
the Patek Philippe Nautilus—hit the market. Its name?
The Pasha de Cartier. How the name became associ-
Crown
sic Cartier shapes, the maison leaned on the rounded—
and, frankly, more interesting—1943 model. ¶ But
none of that historical murk really matters in the end.
In 1985, the Pasha de Cartier created its own instant
myth, oozing solid-gold charm but with a sporty edge
not until then synonymous with Cartier. It was a huge
hit for the brand with fans who liked both its scale
(38mm was big for Cartier) and its unusual good looks.
Takes on the Pasha proliferated for 25 years until it
slipped from production in 2010. Now, however, like
a lot of things from the ’80s, the Pasha is back, this
time in two sizes, a 41mm in steel or yellow gold and
a 35mm in steel or pink gold. With the benefit of a lit-
tle time—and a damn compelling story, true or not—
the Pasha could well be a hit again.
P H OTO G R A P H B Y M A R K C L E N N O N
20
Will the world always
be this unpredictable?
Will my portfolio weather the storm?
How can I be sure?
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'JOBODJBM4FSWJDFT*ODJTBTVCTJEJBSZPG6#4"(.FNCFS'*/3"4*1$
Men’s wear with a HISTORY is back,
i ng
but this time around, it’s HITTING DIFFERENT
by JONATHAN EVANS
m
co
T H E S HORT S TOR I E S H E R E W E G O AGA I N
the
d
on
sec
G R O O M I N G : VA L J E A N G U E R R A
22 P H OTO G R A P H B Y M A R K C L E N N O N
FOR MORE INFORMATION VISIT
SEIKOLUXE.COM
IT’S LIKE THERE’S A GLITCH IN THE
Matrix. Except instead of Keanu (beauti-
ful, sweet Keanu) muttering “déjà vu” at a
black cat, it’s guys catching a glimpse of a
Goodyear-welted boot or a flash of buffalo
plaid and thinking, Wait, haven’t I seen this
before? Yep. Heritage men’s wear—the
sturdy, historically inspired stuff of late-
19 MORE PICKS WITH A PEDIGREE
o
o
o
o
o
o
o
o
o
o
HAT ($82) o
BY EAST
HARBOUR
o NAPA BY MARTINE ROSE
SURPLUS. o ($546)
o
o
o
o
o
The thirty-year-old director of the CANDYMAN
sequel has made the MOST RELEVANT HORROR MOVIE of our times
by GABRIELLE BRUNEY
nia dacosta is
P H OTO G R A P H B Y G I O N CA R LO VA L E N T I N E
FUN ABOUT FUN-SIZE CANDY BARS.
ering who commits the violence onscreen and Canadian border to save her family’s home and pay for
characters are Black and well versed in the history of Cabrini- cious to her. I think she’ll be unafraid to really stake her
J A N I C E K I N J O / T H E WA L L G R O U P.
Green, though uneasy about their status as gentrifiers in claim on it, to both pay respect and homage to what’s in the
the neighborhood. canon and to figure out ways to authentically push the
The movie was shot in what remains of Cabrini-Green, and boundaries of where it’s been before.”
location is foundational to the story. DaCosta seems to rec- According to Thompson, DaCosta made quite an impres-
ognize inherently the importance of a place and the people sion on the Marvel bigwigs. “When she was pitching, I was
who occupy it. Her first feature film, 2019’s Little Woods, which as nervous as if I was going to pitch,” says Thompson. “Brie
she wrote and directed, concerns itself with a North Dakota texted me, I think four minutes in, and was just like in all caps,
drug runner who makes one last smuggling trip across the ‘NIA IS KILLING IT.’ ”
27
H
by JONATHAN EVANS
H
SH H
H
H
Some of
THIS
FALL’S
BEST
CLOTHES
have a lot
to say.
They’re
T H E S HORT S TOR I E S I T ’ S OH S O QU I E T
just not
shouting
about it.
28 P H OTO G R A P H S B Y M A R K C L E N N O N
FOR A M I N U T E T H E R E , S OM E OF T H E B IG G E ST H IG H - FA S H ION HOUSE S ON T H E
planet got pretty damn loud.
It was fun while it lasted (and for some it’s still going), but the pendulum always swings. And for
BOT TEGA a different breed of designer, a more subtle take on luxury is looking like the way forward. The
VENETA approach is quieter, but it’s also—perhaps paradoxically—one of the most exciting things going on
It may have started in the world of men’s style right now.
with leather goods,
but the Italian label This fall’s collaboration between Jerry Lorenzo’s L. A.–based label Fear of God and Italian men’s-
now applies its
signature blend wear powerhouse Zegna stands as an effective avatar of this movement. “Before we met for the first
of craft and playful- time, we both instinctively knew about this gap between what’s happening culturally and traditional
ness to everything
from turtlenecks to tailoring,” says Lorenzo of the
trench coats. lead-up to his initial meeting with
COAT ($2,650), Zegna artistic director Alessandro
TURTLENECK ($980),
AND SHIRT ($670) BY Sartori. The resulting collection,
BOTTEGA VENETA.
Fear of God Exclusively for Erme-
negildo Zegna, blends exceptional
craftsmanship—the pieces are made
in Zegna’s ateliers—with an aes-
thetic that feels relaxed, refined,
and ready for whatever weird world
comes after [gestures broadly] all
this. Tailored pieces are stripped of
lapels or rendered oversize, while
streetwear-influenced sweats and
overshirts are raised up as some-
thing seriously special.
In other words, this is really, really
nice stuff that’s meant to be part of
your life, not saved for some occasion.
“At this level of quality, with this craft
and with these artisanal types of fin-
ishings and work, this collection
could literally say something differ-
ent,” explains Sartori. But he’s care-
ful to note that there’s a whole
ecosystem of other players pushing
this trend along. There is, of course,
the Row, with its ridiculously high-
end fabrics and savant-level distilla-
tion of classic and unassuming styles
into clothing that’s stratospheric in
execution (and price). Or Bottega
Veneta, purveyors of an exacting sort
of Italian cool that insists on precision
in both material and make. Back state-
AURALEE side, Hilton Turner delivers a style
Founded in Tokyo
in 2015, Auralee that’s a little more louche, with silky
is the brainchild pajama shirts finished with piped seams that look a
of designer Ryota
Iwai. The brand whole lot better with a robe-inspired jacket than they
makes its easy- do languishing in bed. And Japan-based Auralee,
going, elegant
HILTON clothes—think which grafts a dressed-up-but-definitely-left-of-
BY HILTON shades of beige
center perspective onto everything from sweaters to
TURNER and gray, with
Helmed by (and
relaxed fits that suits, proves that labels the world over are crafting
drape just so—
named for) designer entirely in Japan. clothing that’s exquisite and built for every day—or
Hilton Turner, this
L. A.-based label JACKET ($930) at least every day you’re feeling like actually getting
puts the focus AND KNIT ($460) dressed, not just throwing fabric onto your body.
firmly on tailoring BY AURALEE.
but knocks the Assembling an outfit in the morning is a reminder
fusty formality out of the here and now, and if you’re going to put in the
of its suits so that
they feel more effort to get that fit off, maybe it should pay you back.
appropriate for an
NBA tunnel walk
These clothes—precisely cut and painstakingly con-
than the office. sidered but (and this is crucial) just as comfortable
SUIT ($2,895) AND as those old sweats—are designed to make you feel
SHIRT ($1,895; PART
OF SET), HILTON BY better IRL. You’ll know it when you slip them on,
HILTON TURNER. when you move in them, and, sure, when you get
your boy to snap a pic for the ’Gram.
G R O O M I N G : VA L J E A N G U E R R A
ESQUIRE STUDIOS
FOR KNOB CREEK®
HOW I
denim for the new design. Above all, they focus on fit.
“This is the original denim,” Glenn explains, “made in
America on American looms. It’s like apples and oranges,
comparing selvedge denim to commercial denim. As
EARNED IT
you wear selvedge denim, it ages with the movement of
your body.” He pauses, examining the whiskey glinting
in his glass. “You think of aging a nine-year old bourbon
like Knob Creek® . . . Now, just imagine a perfectly aged
nine-year-old blue jean. The wait is always worth it.”
I
n the late 19th century, Brooklyn’s Gowanus neighborhood was a thriving
hub of textile manufacturing. But Gowanus’s manufacturing clout dwindled
in the years following WWII, as one industry after another abandoned
Brooklyn. Today, two fearless souls are helping to bring back the old fighting
spirit—crafting a uniquely American product and drawing on traditional
American characteristics: pluck, determination, and a profound dedication
to quality. Glenn’s Denim NYC cofounders Glenn Liburd and Daniel Lewis
took a break to sip Knob Creek® and talk with Esquire about why they choose
grit and perseverance over “fast fashion”—and why there are few things more
American than bourbon and blue jeans.
In recent years, the Knob Creek Distilling Company has been lifting up local
heroes—spirited entrepreneurs and dedicated craftsmen who truly abide by
the longstanding American principles of commitment, vision, passion and
perseverance. The effort is part of Knob Creek®’s resolution to show that no
one blindly stumbles into excellence; quality must be earned through years
of training and devoted commitment.
Glenn and Daniel possess the exact kind of work ethic and crazy attention to
detail that Knob Creek® loves to celebrate. Hailing from Trinidad, Glenn grew
up in a culture long steeped in a trade mentality. “There were dressmakers,
shoemakers, just tradesman everywhere,” he recalls. “I grew up with a sewing
machine in the house, and we made all of our curtains and cushions.” Glenn
AGED NINE CR
O BE R M O
E EN T
KN
YEARS OUT OF
CL
K
PRINCIPLE,
NOT OBLIGATION.
Two years makes it bourbon.
Seven more makes it Knob Creek®.
di
sc
T H E S HORT S TOR I E S G E T D OW N TON IG H T
IT’S A LATE-SUMMER AFTERNOON IN LONDON, WHERE KYLIE MINOGUE, ONE OF THE GRANDE
dames of pop, is philosophizing about disco music. It’s transformative, she explains, because
if you’re in the right frame of mind, the music can carry you away on its signature bass lines
and horn sections. “When you’re at a club and you’re surrounded by people, you can still just
shut your eyes and feel like you’re the only person on the dance floor,” she tells me. “Or you
can be the only person in a room and feel like you’re out, surrounded by all this energy.”
o is back
In a year of plague, turmoil, and hardship, the genre known for its hedonistic escapism is
experiencing a third wave. Thank God. BY MADISON VAIN
A L L A N TA N N E N B A U M / G E T T Y I M A G E S ( L E F T ) . C O U R T E S Y B M G ( R I G H T ) .
32
I am talking to Minogue because in this tumultuous year, sadness, but that hope within the sadness. It’s that sweet spot
disco is experiencing a renaissance. Minogue is among sev- 01 of tears on the dance floor.”
eral artists with new albums in 2020 that sound as if they’re Minogue’s twinkling plea for unity and togetherness did the
echoes of the 1970s. Newly minted superstar Dua Lipa and same for me. The song became my soundtrack to a summer
pop chameleon Lady Gaga each put out chart-topping records spent at home, blaring in the kitchen, the backyard, or the liv-
this spring that served as bombastic revivals. Doja Cat cracked ing room fashioned into a workout studio. It lined the make-
the Top 40 with her single “Say So,” an undeniable Chic call- believe concerts of my mind, drumming up anticipation for the
back. Jessie Ware’s latest is a steamy retro embrace, and even 02 crowds that will (hopefully) gather in 2021 and, more than once,
R&B’s King of the Underworld, the Weeknd, toyed with Tech- despair from missing the throngs of people of years past. It
nicolor production on his 2020 set, After Hours. But Minogue’s prompts the existential question the entire genre faces as it
latest, which debuts in November, is the most on the nose. Its resurfaces: What is dance music without a dance floor? Disco
title: DISCO. was born in the club, and when it returned in the early 2000s,
“In for a penny, in for a pound,” she says of the title. “Let’s 03 it did so as the large-scale festival exploded in America. (Daft
just say what it is.” Punk’s 2006 Coachella set is widely considered the best show
It makes sense that the genre is seeing a revival in this god- the event has ever seen.) But, at least for the time being, any
awful year. Disco—born on Valentine’s Day 1970 in New York revelry is currently confined to quarantine bubbles and at-home
City—was pure fantasy, a strobe-lit, sex-fueled response to the stereos. The clubs are closed, the event calendars cleared. It’s
an oddity Minogue acknowledges. “It’s a kitchen disco,” she
late-’60s uproar and civil unrest. The four-on-the-floor beats
04
invited revelers into a new decade, one in which the dance says. “It’s your lounging disco. A virtual disco.” Reality may be
floors never cleared and the parties never stopped. Incorpo- damned, in other words, but the daydream lives on.
rating salsa, pop, funk, and soul, it promised not just inclusion
but liberation under the mirror ball. As long as you were down
to hustle, pump, and duck, it was all groovy, baby. Now, at the
05 five new essential disco albums
33
In the not-so-distant past,
wearing a tech jacket sig-
shining
naled you were ready to
dose of 21st-century cool—and some serious tech, too. Many of Au Départ’s new DÉPART PARIS; SUIT ($795) BY
B|M|C; SHIRT ($99) BY SUITSUPPLY.
pieces feature this striking update of the original house pattern established in BOTTOM RIGHT: JACKET ($2,670) BY
the early 1900s to differentiate the label from its competitors. The new spin, STONE ISLAND; SUIT ($1,495 FOR
A THREE-PIECE) BY POLO RALPH
though, is that it’s now engineered in a highly reflective woven cloth, called Reflex, LAUREN; TURTLENECK ($90) BY
BANANA REPUBLIC.
that lights up like a Christmas tree when caught in a camera flash or car head-
lights. All the better for taking a perfectly calibrated Instagram shot—or just ensur-
ing you’re easily seen on a nighttime bike ride. —Nick Sullivan P H OTO G R A P H S B Y M A R K C L E N N O N
34
ESQUIRE STUDIO X MONTBLANC
SPIKE LEE
7KHOHJHQGDU\¿OPPDNHU
has been following his
passion since he was a
kid writing stories at the
Pursuing one’s passion doesn’t always kitchen table in Cobble
Hill, when his mother
come easy. It takes dedication, told him “you always
tenacity and the ability to follow your have to be 10 times
dream even—nay, especially—in the better.” Writing from the
heart and by hand (his
face of adversity. Creative talents
left hand), Lee has taken
Spike Lee, Chen Kun and Taron this advice to heart from
Egerton hail from different parts of WKHUHOHDVHRIKLV¿UVW
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people of Brooklyn, his
that “What moves you, makes you.” family and his own
personal experiences,
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the story of Black
America through his
uniquely witty,
MAKERS
thought-provoking lens.
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real community for these grail seekers. Kyle Julian Skye Muhl-
friedel, 25, and Clif Shayne, 21, first met on the fan forum Kanye
To The. For both of them, collecting men’s wear started as a
hobby. They paired up in 2018 to create an online marketplace
called Middleman Store, which has racked up hundreds of
C O U R T E S Y S I LV E R L E A G U E ( R A N G E L , P R O D U CT S ) . C O U R T E S Y D O N AV O N S M A L LW O O D ( S H AY N E ) . C O U R T E S Y I A N L I P TO N ( M U H L F R I E D E L ) . C O U R T E S Y M I D D L E M A N ( P R O D U CT S ) .
T H E S HORT S TOR I E S W H E R E’ D YOU G E T T H AT ?
Zeke Hemme is the soft-spoken 28-year-old behind Constant three years ago.) Muhlfriedel, for instance, worked his way up
Practice, an online marketplace hawking the ultrarare men’s the fashion food chain, flipping A.P.C. and other brands before
wear he’s collected for more than five years. Today, he’s among moving on to bigger-ticket items. Like Hemme and Rangel, he
the most prominent figures in this community. Hemme has a and Shayne still share a feeling of pure joy for the thrill of the
wry, unflappable demeanor that belies a deep knowledge of hunt, exchanging jubilant text messages after stumbling across
the genre and masks a competitive streak born from a lifetime particularly rare pieces and “getting way too excited about a
of playing soccer. Speaking to me via video call from his make- jacket or something,” as Shayne endearingly describes it.
shift home office, the Philly-based archivist appears on my The community remains tightly knit, and it’s easy to see why.
computer screen surrounded by the type of out-there designer Talking to Hemme and his archivist coconspirators is like recon-
clothing he routinely spotlights using nothing but a trusty necting with a kid you always fucked with in high school but
iPhone 10. (Tim Cook, cut the fucking check.) When I ask forgot how much you liked. There is a shared fluency to the
Hemme what, exactly, makes the everyday grind that is regu- conversation that makes me think of the best moments in any
larly blessing the masses with unearthed gems worth all the given group chat, when everyone locks in at the same time and
effort, he responds with a shrug: It’s the hunt, man. Putting the inside jokes start flying. Hemme and Muhlfriedel talk all
people on to new shit is just too much fun to stop. the time, swapping tips on, say, how to properly categorize spe-
If Hemme seems a tad young to be collecting clothing about cific Issey Miyake pieces. There’s a sense of camaraderie to the
as old as he is, here’s something that’ll make you feel like a whole thing, underscored by the fact that business is booming
full-blown fossil: He’s one of the movement’s elder statesmen. and no one sees demand slowing down anytime soon.
On Instagram, the social-media center of the archival men’s- “It’s not a zero-sum game,” Muhlfriedel says. “If we were
wear renaissance, a cohort of 20-somethings, as well versed doing it by ourselves, it wouldn’t be the same thing.”
in the late-’90s oeuvre of Yohji Yamamoto as they are in the [Cinematic violins swell.] Maybe, it turns out, the real grails
rapid-fire parlance of transactional DMs, dictate the tone of are the friends we make along the way.
the conversation. For young enthusiasts in particular, archi-
val men’s wear is an opportunity to find not only the pieces
they absolutely must have—in other words, grails—but also Clif Shayne (left) and Kyle Julian Skye Muhlfriedel of Middleman with
(from left): ISSEY MIYAKE CARGO BOMBER JACKET, F/W 1996, AND YOHJI
the items (from other designers or earlier seasons) that YAMAMOTO LEATHER ZIP JACKET, F/W 1991. BACKGROUND: JEAN PAUL
inspired them. It’s not unusual for these hunters to spend
years researching a piece before finally tracking it down.
For 23-year-old Fernando Rangel, it’s his youngest custom-
ers who tend to impress him the most with their knowledge of
men’s-wear arcana. In 2018, Rangel started Silver League, his
own expansive assortment of men’s wear, as a way of tracing
the lineage of piece A to piece Z. He readily admits he’s guilty
of fetishizing the past. (Buddy, who isn’t?!) But around the
same time his peers were busy waiting for their high school
crush to reply to an ill-conceived “just checking in” text, Ran-
gel was buying up pieces from cult Japanese designers like Jun
Takahashi and Takahiro Miyashita. He even created a website
and Instagram account to catalog his growing collection with
detailed background information and crisp photography.
Out of this collective obsession for men’s wear has come a
40
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or when I really wanted to feel myself. I still
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TIM
e
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LEB My friend Lindsay
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little twisted locks. But since HAND RINSE
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TIM
50
A
Y
We could all use a little more wisdom these days. On the occasion of their first-ever
collab, a filmed version of the stage show American Utopia, we asked seasoned iconoclasts
David Byrne and Spike Lee to tell us how they’re getting by—and how we might, too.
BY KEVIN SINTUMUANG / PHOTOGRAPHS BY DARIO CALMESE / STYLING BY NICK SULLIVAN AND ASHLEY LAMPKIN
DAVID BYRNE’S AMERICAN UTOPI A BEGINS WITH THE SOUND OF ON BYRNE: SUIT BY GABRIELA HEARST; SHIRT
BY BRUNELLO CUCINELLI. ON LEE: JACKET BY EBBETS
birds for close to a minute before revealing the singer, seated alone at a FIELD FLANNELS; SHIRT BY MONCLER; TROUSERS BY
desk, holding a human brain. Otherwise, the stage is empty, save for a cur- GUCCI; HAT BY CITYHATS; “WHAT THE NY” SNEAKERS
BY NIKE; RINGS BY CARTIER; GLASSES, LEE’S OWN.
tain composed of hundreds of thin metal chains that line the walls and shim- PREVIOUS PAGES, ON BYRNE: JACKET BY
GABRIELA HEARST; SHIRT BY BRUNELLO CUCINELLI.
mer like streaks of rain. As in Stop Making Sense, the 1984 Talking Heads ON LEE: JACKET BY DIOR MEN; HAT BY CITYHATS;
concert film, band members emerge as the show progresses. They, like SUNGLASSES, LEE’S OWN.
Byrne, are dressed in gray suits, with no shoes, no socks. It’s a stripped-
down look for a show that is as cerebral and subtly political as it is raucous
and joyful. Byrne wrote or cowrote almost every song in it—a few are from
his 2018 album of the same name, and about half are familiar Talking Heads
tunes, including a version of “Once in a Lifetime” that’s somehow even
more poignant than the original. But it’s a cover of Janelle Monáe’s “Hell
You Talmbout,” one of American Utopia’s last songs, that becomes its soul.
In between, Byrne muses, philosophically and humorously, on whether
babies are smarter than grown-ups and why people are more interesting to
look at than, say, a bag of potato chips.
In the summer of 2019, before the start of the show’s run on Broadway,
Byrne had the idea to adapt it for the screen. He invited Spike Lee, whom
he’d been friendly with for years, to attend previews, then asked whether
he’d like to direct. Lee loved the show—and the idea. The result, which
comes out on HBO in mid-October, is not a glorified theatrical recording.
It’s a real film.
It’s also their first collaboration. Although both made a name for them-
selves in New York, Lee, who’s sixty-three, came along a few years after
Byrne, who’s sixty-eight. The year Lee shot his first short film, 1977, is the
same one that Talking Heads, the new-wave band Byrne fronted that made
him famous, released their debut LP. (It was called, wait for it . . . 77.) By
then, Byrne—handsome, tall like an antenna, and a bit shy—was a regular
on downtown New York’s music scene. Andy Warhol was a fan. Talking
Heads had premiered live two years earlier, on the beer-soaked stage of
CBGB, opening for punk pioneers the Ramones. By the time Lee released
his first feature, She’s Gotta Have It, in 1986, the band had banked six albums
and six Billboard Hot 100 singles, and Byrne had become the unlikeliest
of rock stars.
“Both of us, we have longevity,” Lee says. Sure, he and Byrne have pro-
duced their share of clunkers over the years. But that’s the price of
the quality that unifies and perhaps defines them: creative evolution.
BlacKkKlansman (2018) and Da Five Bloods (2020) are as electric as any
other Spike Lee joint. As for Byrne, he collaborated on one of the best con-
cert films of all time (1984’s Stop Making Sense, directed by Jonathan
Demme), launched a music label that releases recordings from musicians
around the world (Luaka Bop), wrote two books (2009’s Bicycle Diaries
and 2012’s How Music Works), and recently started a website (see page 57).
American Utopia, his second musical, was a hit from the start, and it was
slated to return in the fall before the pandemic shut off the lights on Broad-
way. In the final week of its initial run, the show set the theater’s box-
office record for weekly earnings—$1.4 million. Consistency isn’t why Byrne
is still relevant; it’s his constant transformation. “What I dig about David’s
act is: He’s not going to do the same thing twice,” Lee says. “Take a risk and
not just do what’s safe.” Right back at you, Spike.
In early September, Esquire spoke with them over Zoom about the film,
their personal growth, and life in 2020. Byrne was in his apartment in the
Chelsea neighborhood of Manhattan, a beer in hand. Lee was at his
Martha’s Vineyard home, where a Kehinde Wiley painting adorned the
wall behind him.
SPIKE LEE: David, can you see me? DB: Cape Cod. potato chips for my brother! edge of the show. How many times
DAVID BYRNE: No, I can’t. All I see is a SL: Ever have Cape Cod barbecue ESQUIRE: Guys, I love the film. I have you seen it?
phone floating in the middle. Maybe if potato chips? think it will be an awesome gift to SL: Well, I first went to Boston,
I scroll—there you are. Now I see you. DB: No, but I’ve had Cape Cod people during this time. It fills you where they were doing previews.
[Lee holds up a bag of chips to the potato chips. They’re pretty good. with hope. Spike, it felt to me like Went up on a Saturday morning
camera.] SL: I have to do an interview eating you have a pretty intimate knowl- and saw the matinee, then the
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THIS PAGE, CLOCKWISE FROM ABOVE:
“SHATTERED BACKBOARD 3.0” SNEAKERS th
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NIKE; JACKET BY ALPHA INDUSTRIES; SHIRT w
m
it’s me, but it’s also a character who stage like that. I was hooked. us. [Laughs.] I’m sixty-three, you guitar. Then, over a transistor
goes on a journey and ends up in a DB: Oh, good. know, David’s the age he is, and radio, he heard Jimi Hendrix for the
very different place from where he SL: I was happy that I was coming we’re still full of energy, vitality. first time, and the song’s raw, elec-
was in the beginning. It’s kind of liv- back in a couple hours to see the tric energy was like a revolution.
ing inside his head. And by the end, evening show. And I don’t like to Tom Byrne was not a musician. He Byrne kept exploring, and the more
he’s engaging with the whole spend too much time in Boston, as was an electrical engineer and an he learned, the more he wanted to
world. It’s a journey the audience you see from my hat. [Points to his amateur painter. His wife, Emma, know. Through music, an entirely
takes as well. Yankees cap.] was a schoolteacher and a peace new world opened up.
SL: I’m going to cosign what David DB: I remember that after the sec- activist. He was Catholic, she was
said. It’s a journey. It’s a narrative. ond show up in Boston, you came Protestant, and their families did not ESQ: One of the highlights of Ameri-
The first time I saw the show, and into my dressing room and said, accept their union. So in 1955, three can Utopia is the cover of Janelle
he’s onstage by himself, I’m like, “I want to do this. Let’s see if we years after the birth of their first Monáe’s “Hell You Talmbout,” a
“Is that a brain?” [Laughs.] Maybe can get the money.” child, David, they left Scotland, protest song in which you recite the
I was not the only person that SL: Got it done! You see, I’m a big where they’d lived their whole lives, names of Black people who have
said, “Is that a brain he’s holding fan. What I dig about David’s act is: for North America—first Canada, been murdered by the police. In
in his hands?” He’s not going to do the same thing then Baltimore. the show, you explain that you
DB: Spike, I got to ask, at that twice. And I just love artists like As a boy, Byrne set about shed- asked Monáe if you could cover the
moment, when the show begins that. They’re going to do whatever ding his accent. American kids song and she gave you her blessing.
and you just see me sitting it is they’re going to do. They’re couldn’t understand him, and he At what point did the song become
at a desk, holding a brain, going to take a risk and not just do wanted to be understood. But he part of the show? So much has hap-
were you thinking, Oh, shit, what’s safe. Let’s try to explore embraced another element of his pened in the past four years.
this is not what I wanted to get something. You know, just do it! heritage: the music. One of his DB: My band and I were putting a
into here? Love that about David. Both of us, uncles who lived back in Scotland concert together in 2017. I often
SL: No! Dave, I respect you so we have longevity in very, very played the fiddle and the mandolin. end my concerts with a cover
much as an artist and as a human tough industries, music and film. It was the Scottish folk records his song. I’ve done Crystal Waters and
being, you know? And so that We’re going on four decades. I’m parents listened to that the boy fell Whitney Houston and Missy Elliott—
grabbed me. I had never seen a going to tip my cap to the both of in love with. He taught himself the SL: Hold the presses. What Whitney
KI LL E D M Y M O T H E R I
b y DA M ON YO U NG
St i l l - l i fe ph oto g ra ph s b y TON Y K I M
ness, power, and wealth to its plundering of Native people and its centuries of Dad called to tell me that my mother—his best friend; my sister Jemelle’s ther-
free labor from enslaved Africans. (And also the same America in which, during apist; my nephew and nieces’ Gida; the woman who at sixteen got into Carn-
the greatest economic downturn since the Great Depression, spurred by a pan- egie Mellon; who in 1984 sparked a mini race riot that led to the closure of a
demic that only sharpened its inequities, its billionaires got $637 billion richer.) deli in Squirrel Hill after the white cashier called her and Nana “black nigger
While Pittsburgh has owned up to its disparities, it has never admitted, and bitches”; who made the best French toast ever; who I never beat in Uno or
will never admit, its intent. These things just happen over time, the city tells Connect 4, even when I cheated; who introduced me to Steely Dan and Toni
itself, like how a yard might tell itself that weeds just grow. And it’s this lie that Morrison and banded collars and chicken cacciatore; who came to as many
allows the ’Burgh to smile at itself in the mirror and that drives its Black citi- grade school and middle school and high school and college and AAU and
zens mad. Because Pittsburgh’s livability for white people is possible because summer-league basketball games as she could, driving sometimes, on buses
of what makes it unlivable for Black people. There is no abundance without and jitneys most times; and who my four-year-old daughter and one-year-old
a permanent underclass. Black blood sustains it. Black bodies undergird it. son are named after—had just died. Was killed.
I know why Vivienne Leigh Young died. She existed in the least livable body What do you do when a city you love kills a woman you loved? The obvi-
in America's most livable city. I was there, driving my car, when the woman ous answer is to leave. But I bought a house here two years ago. My wife
who taught me how to drive, and who’d cosigned the loan for that car, cried and I are raising our children here. Dad is still here. My memories of Ken-
when I absentmindedly drove past the house that the bank had snatched from nywood fits, Eat’n Park midnight buffets, first haircut at Wade’s, last dunk
her and Dad. “Damon,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, “don’t ever take on the low hoop at the ’Stein, and Mom, too.
me down this street again.” I remember the morning of October 18, 2013, when Besides, where would I go?
SLIDE
It was supposed to be a family road trip to visit an aging relative. Then the car got
P H OTO GR A P H S
ROAD
BY
C H R I S TO P H E R GR I F F I T H
Granpop says. “And you could go to the game, staring sunflowers. They go over a washboard last forever.
snag a hot dog and a beer. . . .” that causes the Buick to shake like a dog after The trouble with the old bastard, Corinne
“And still get change back from a five-spot,” a bath. He wouldn’t care if the high-mileage, thinks, is that he still gets a kick out of life, and
Frank mutters from behind the wheel. gas-guzzling, overweening piece of Detroit stu- people who get a kick out of life take a long time
“That’s right!” Granpop crows. “Damn pidity shook itself to death, were it not for the kicking the bucket. They like that old bucket.
straight you could! First game I ever saw with possibility of being broken down out here in Billy returns back to his game. He’s reached
my sis, Ellis Kinder was pitching and Hoot East Jesus. level six. He has yet to make it to level seven.
Evers was in center field. My, that boy could And now, dear God, a plugged culvert has “Billy,” Frank says, “have you got bars on
hit! He knocked one over the right-field fence washed out half the road, and Mr. Brown has your phone?”
and Nan spilled her popcorn she was cheer- to creep around it on the left, the tires on his I love Billy pauses the game and checks. “One, but
ing so hard!” side barely skirting the ditch. If there had you, it keeps flickering on and off.”
Billy Brown could give shit one about base- been room to turn around he would have “Great. Terrific.”
you big strong man.
ball. “Granpop, why do you like to sit in the said the hell with this and gone back, but Another washboard shivers through the
middle like that? You have to spread your legs.” there is no room. Buick and Frank slows to fifteen. He wonders
“I’m giving my balls an airing,” Gran- They make it. Barely. if he could change his name, ditch his family,
pop says. “How far now?” he asks Corinne. and get a job at some little bank in an Austra-
“What balls?” Mary asks, and frowns when “About five miles.” With MapQuest frozen lian town. Learn to call people mate.
Billy sniggers. she has no idea, but she has a hopeful heart. “Lookit, kids!” Granpop bawls.
Corinne looks back over her shoulder. Which is a good thing. She discovered years He’s leaning forward, and from this posi-
“That’s enough of that, Granpop,” she says. ago that marriage to Frank and motherhood tion is able to overload both his son’s right
“We’re taking you to see your sister and we’re to Billy and Mary weren’t what she had expected, ear and his daughter-in-law’s left. They wince
going in your old car as you requested, so—” and now, as a shitty bonus, they have this un- away in opposite directions, not just from
“And it gobbles gas like you wouldn’t be- pleasant old man living with them because they the noise but from his breath. It smells like
lieve,” Frank says. can’t afford to put him in a retirement home. a small animal died in his mouth, shitting as
Corinne ignores this; she has her eyes on the Hope is getting her through. it expired. He starts most mornings burping
prize. “It’s a favor. So do me one and keep the They are going to see an old lady dying of up bile and smacking his lips afterward, as
nasty talk to yourself.” cancer, but Corinne Brown hopes someday to if it’s tasty. Whatever’s going on inside him
Granpop says he will, sorry, then bares his go on a Carnival cruise and drink something can’t be good and yet he exudes that horri-
dentures at her in a leer that says he’ll do just with a paper umbrella in it. She hopes to have a ble vitality. Sometimes, Corinne thinks, I be-
about whatever the fuck he wants. richer, fuller life when the kids finally grow up lieve I could kill him. I really do. Only I think the
“What balls?” Mary persists. and go out on their own. She would also like to kids love him. Christ knows why, but they do.
ey. Because, really, who would want to come looking cheerful. that Buick Estate wagon, he isn’t worth a dry
out here to spend a weekend or, God forbid, a “I don’t know,” Frank says, “but we’re sure popcorn fart. The rear end is wagging from
honeymoon? Maine has plenty of beauty spots, not going this way.” side to side like the tail of an old tired dog. He
but this isn’t one of them. This isn’t even a place “Got to back up,” Granpop says. “Back all almost dumps it in the left ditch, overcorrects,
you go through to get to somewhere else unless the way down to the old Slide Inn. You can turn almost dumps it in the right one, and overcor-
you can’t avoid it. And they could have. That’s around in the driveway. No chain.” rects again.
the hair across his ass. “Jesus,” Frank says, and runs his hands “Boy, he’s not doing that very good,”
“What if great-aunt Nan dies before we get through his thinning hair. “All right. When we Billy says.
there, Granpop?” Mary asks. She’s finished get to the main road, we can decide wheth- “Hush up,” Granpop says. “He’s doing fine.”
her comic book. The next one is Little Lulu, er to keep going to Derry or just head home.” “Can me and Mary go up and look at the
and she has no interest. Little Lulu looks like Granpop looks outraged at the idea of re- old Slip Inn?”
a turd in a dress. treat, but after scanning his son’s face—espe- “Slide Inn,” Granpop says. “Sure, go on up
“Well, then we’ll turn around and go back,” cially the red spots on his cheeks and dashed for a minute. Run, and be ready to come back
Granpop says. “After the funeral, accourse.” across his forehead—he keeps his trap shut. down. Your dad’s not in a very good temper.”
The funeral. Oh God, the funeral. Frank “Everybody back in,” Frank says, “but this The kids run up the overgrown drive.
hasn’t even thought about how she could be time you sit on one side or the other, Dad. So “Don’t fall in the cellar hole!” Granpop bawls
dead already. She might even pop off while I can see where I’m going without your head after them, and is about to add that they should
they’re visiting, and then they would have to God in the way.” stay in sight, but before he can do it there’s a
stay for the old bird’s funeral. He’s only brought If we had the Volvo, he thinks, I could use the crunch, an abbreviated honk of the horn, and
he wishes that he’d never
a single change of clothes, and— backup camera. Instead we’ve got this oversized then his son cursing a blue streak. There. That’s
“Look out!” Corinne shouts. “Stop!” piece of stupidity. one of the things he’s good at.
He does, and just in time. There’s another “I’ll walk,” Granpop says. “It’s not but two Granpop turns from the scampering kids
plugged culvert and another washout at the hundred yards.” to see that, after managing to back all the
top of the hill. Only this one goes all the way “Me too,” Mary says, and Billy seconds that. way down the hill without going off the road,
across. The crevasse looks at least three feet “Fine,” Frank says. “Try not to fall down and Frank’s ditched the wagon while trying to make
wide. God knows how deep it is. break your leg, Dad. That would be the final a three-point turn.
“What’s wrong, Dad?” Billy asks, pausing touch to an absolutely wonderful day.” “Shut up, Frankie!” Granpop shouts. “Quit
his game again. Granpop and the kids start back down the that cussing and turn off the motor before you
“What’s wrong, Dad?” Mary asks, stopping hill to the burned-out inn’s driveway, Mary and stall it out!” He’s probably torn off half the
her search for another Archie funny book. Billy holding the old man’s hands. Frank thinks tailpipe anyway, but there’s no point telling
“What’s wrong, Frankie?” Granpop asks. it could be a Norman Rockwell painting: “And him that.
For a moment Frank Brown only sits with his
LOOKED an Old Bastard Shall Lead Them.” Frank shuts off the motor and gets out.
hands at ten and two on the Buick’s big steering DOWN
D O N He gets behind the Buick’s steering wheel. Corinne gets out too, but it’s a struggle. She
wheel, staring over the Buick’s long hood. They Corinne gets in the passenger seat. She puts tears an arc of weeds ahead of the door and fi-
knew how to make ’em back in the old days, a hand on his arm and gives him her sweet- nally manages. The car’s rear end is bumper-
his father sometimes likes to opine. Those, of
THAT
A est smile, the one that says, I love you, you big deep on the right side and the front is angled
course, being the same old days when a self- strong man. Frank isn’t big, he’s not particu- upward on the left.
respecting woman wouldn’t go shopping with- larly strong, and there’s not much bloom left Frank walks to his father. “The ground gave
out first cinching on a girdle and hooking up on the rose of their marriage (a bit wilted, that way while I was turning!”
her stockings to a garter belt, the days when rose, petals going brown at the edges), but she “You cut it too tight,” the old man says.
gay people went in fear of their lives and there needs to soothe him out of the red zone, and “That’s why only your right-side back wheel
was a penny candy called nigger babies avail- long experience has taught her how to do it. went in.”
HOLE.
He walks to the edge of the long in the ground where the Inn once stood. It’s full of dark water. Charred beams stick up.
“The ground gave way, I’m telling you!” a hand on Billy’s shoulder. The touch is star- gripping, but Billy has an idea it would grip if
“Cut it too tight.” tling, but Billy is too scared to jump. He holds he tried to run. He’s pretty sure the men saw
“It gave way, goddammit!” on to his smile with all his might. him looking into that water-filled cellar hole.
Standing side by side as they are, Corinne “Yup, little problem there,” the fat young He has an idea they are in bad trouble here.
sees how much they look alike, and although man says, peering down, and when Corinne “Hey, guys! Hello, ma’am!” Galen sounds as
she’s seen the resemblance many times before, raises one hand—tentatively—the fat one rais- cheerful as a day in May. “Looks like you got a
on this beshitted summer morning it comes as es his in return. “Think we could help, Galen?” little trouble here. Want a hand?”
a revelation. She realizes that her husband is edge “I bet we could,” says the redhead. “We’ve “Oh, that would be wonderful,” Corinne says.
on time’s conveyor belt, and before it dumps got our own problem, as you see.” And he “Terrific,” Frank says. “Damn road went out
him off into the boneyard, he will actually be- of the points to the flat tire. “No spare.” He bends from under the car while I was turning around.”
come his father, only without Granpop’s sour down to Billy. His eyes are bright blue. There “Cut it too tight,” Granpop says.
but occasionally engaging sense of humor. long doesn’t seem to be anything in them. “Did you Frank gives him an ugly look, then turns
Sometimes she gets so tired. Of Frank, yes, hole check out that hole, Billy? Mighty big one.” back to the newcomers and gins up a grin. “I
but also of herself. Because is she any better? “No,” Billy says. He’s trying to sound natu- bet with you two men, we could push it right
Of course not. ral, unconcerned by the question, but doesn’t out of there.”
She looks around where Billy and Mary know if he’s getting that in his voice or not. He “No doubt,” says Pete.
were, then at Granpop. “Donald? Where are thinks he might faint. He wishes, God he wish- Frank holds out his hand. “Frank Brown.
the kids?” es, that he’d never looked down there. Blue This is my wife, Corinne, and my father,
sneaker. “I was afraid I might fall in.” Donald.”
THE KIDS ARE INSPECTING THE PANEL “Smart kid,” Galen says. “Isn’t he, Pete?” “Pete Smith,” says the fat young man.
truck at the top of the hill, close to where the “Smart,” the fat one agrees, and tosses “Galen Prentice,” says the redhead.
Slide Inn once stood. The tire on the driver’s Corinne another wave. Granpop is now look- There are handshakes all around. Granpop
side is flat. While Mary goes around the front ing up the hill, too. Frank is still staring at the mutters, “Meetcha,” but hardly gives them a
to look at the license plate (she’s always on the Buick’s ditched rear end, shoulders slumped. glance. He’s looking at Billy.
lookout for new ones, a game Granpop taught “That skinny one your dad?” redheaded Ga- “Ma’am,” Galen says, “why don’t you take
her), Billy walks to the edge of the long hole in len asks Mary. the wheel? Me and Pete and your handsome
the ground where the Inn once stood. He looks “Yup, and that’s our granpop. He’s old.” hubby here can push while you steer.”
down and sees it’s full of dark water. Charred “No shit,” Pete says. His hand is still on Bil- “Oh, I don’t know,” Corinne says.
beams stick up. And a woman’s leg. The foot is ly’s shoulder. Billy looks around at it and sees “I could do it,” Granpop says. “It’s my car.
clad in a bright blue sneaker. He stares, at first what might be blood under the nail of Pete’s From back in the old days. They really knew
frozen, then backs away. second finger. how to make ’em back then.” He sounds sulky,
“Billy!” Mary calls. “It’s a Delaware! My first “Well, you know what?” Galen says—he’s and Billy’s heart, which had risen a little, now
Delaware!” leaning down, speaking to Mary, who’s smil- sinks. He thought Granpop might have an idea
“That’s right, Sweetie,” someone says. “Del- ing up at him. “I bet we could push that big about these men, but he doesn’t.
aware it is.” old sumbitch right out of there. Then may- “Gramps, I need you to do the heavy look-
Billy looks up. Two men are walking around be your dad could give us a ride to someplace ing-on. I’m sure Frank’s missus can do the driv-
the far end of the foundation hole. They are where there’s a garage. Get a new tire for our ing. Can’t you?”
young. One is tall, with red hair that’s all oily little truck.” “I suppose . . .” Corinne trails off.
and clumpy. He has a lot of pimples. The other “Are you from Delaware?” Mary asks. Galen gives her a thumbs-up. “Sure you can!
one is short and fat. He’s got a bag in one hand “Well, we been through there,” Pete says. Kids, you stand aside with your gramps.”
that looks like Granpop’s old bowling bag, the Then he and Galen exchange a look and “He’s Granpop,” Mary says. “Not Gramps.”
one with ROLLING THUNDER on the side in they laugh. Galen grins. “Why sure,” he says. “Granpop
fading blue letters. This one has no writing on “Let’s take a look at that car of yours,” Galen it is. Granpop goes the weasel.”
it. Both men are smiling. says. “Want me to carry you down, Sweetie?” Corinne gets behind the wheel of the Buick
Billy tries to smile back. He doesn’t know if “No, that’s okay,” Mary says, her smile grow- and adjusts the seat forward. Billy can’t stop
it really looks like a smile or more like a kid try- ing slightly tentative. “I can walk.” thinking of that leg sticking up out of the murky
ing not to scream, but he hopes it’s a smile. He “Your bro don’t talk much, does he?” Pete water in the cellar hole. The blue sneaker.
doesn’t want these two men to know he was says. His hand, the one not holding the bowling Galen and Pete take spots on the left and
looking into the cellar hole. bag (if that’s what it is), is still on Billy’s shoulder. right of the Buick’s canted rear deck. Frank is
Mary comes around the side of the little “Usually you can’t keep him quiet,” Mary in the middle.
white truck with its flat shoe. Her smile looks says. “His tongue is hung in the middle and “Start her up, missus!” Galen calls, and when
completely natural. Sure, why not? She’s a lit- runs at both ends, that’s what Granpop says.” she does, the three men lean forward, brace
tle girl, and as far as she knows, everybody likes AND “Maybe he saw something that scared him their feet, and place their hands on the station
little girls. quiet,” Galen says. “Woodchuck or fox. Or wagon’s flat back. “Okay! Give it some gas! Not
“Hi,” she says. “I’m Mary. That’s my broth- something else.” a lot, just easy!”
er Billy. Our car went in the ditch.” She points A “I didn’t see anything,” Billy says. He thinks The motor revs. Granpop bends toward Bil-
down the hill, at where her father and Gran- he might start crying and tells himself he ly. His breath is as sour as ever, but it’s Gran-
pop are looking at the back end of the Buick can’t, he can’t. pop’s breath and Billy doesn’t mind. “What’s
and her mother is looking up at them. WOM- “Well, come on,” Galen says. He takes Mary’s wrong, kiddo?”
“Well, hi there, Mary,” says the redhead.
“Good to meet you.”
“You too, Billy.” The fat young man drops
AN’S
LEG.
l hand—this she allows—and they start down the
overgrown driveway. Pete walks beside Billy
with his hand still on Billy’s shoulder. It’s not
“Dead lady,” Billy whispers back, and
now the tears come. “Dead lady in that hole
up there.”
“Little more!” fat Pete yells. “Goose the heel of her palm. “What were you doing up there?” Corinne
the bitch!” “Easy-peasy-Japaneezy!” Galen cries. “Back asks. She’s left the Buick running, the door
Corinne gives it more gas and the men on the road and good as new! Only we’ve still open. She looks at her husband, who’s smil-
push. The Buick’s rear tires start to spin, got a little problem. Don’t we, Pete?” ing his big banker’s smile, then at her two
then take hold. The Estate wagon comes up “Sure do,” Pete says. “Flat tire on our truck children. Her girl looks okay, but Billy’s face
onto the road. and no spare. Picked up a nail when we druv is white as wax.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Galen shouts. up there, I guess.” He puffs out his stubbled “Campin’,” Pete says. His hand has disap-
Billy has a sudden confused wish that his cheeks, now shiny with sweat, and makes a peared into his bag that isn’t a bowling bag.
mother would just drive away and leave flat-tire sound: Pwsshhh! He put his bag down “Huh,” Frank says. “That’s . . .”
them, that she would go and be safe. But to push, but now he picks it up. And unzips it. He doesn’t finish, maybe doesn’t know how
she stops, puts the Buick in park, and gets “Damn,” Frank says. “No spare, huh?” to finish, and no one seems to know how to start
out, holding down the hem of her dress with “Don’t that suck?” Galen says. the conversation (continued on page 100)
MATTHEW
RHYS
IS BECOMING
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MATTHEW
RHYS
The actor has built a résumé that assures viewers that whatever he’s in must be good.
This year, he’s poured those efforts into being a dad—and restoring an old boat.
78 O C TOB E R / NOV E M B E R 2020
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E V E RY F R I DAY N I G H T A R O U N D D I N N E R T I M E , part of more superheroes during the day than anyone I
the actor Matthew Rhys conducts a ritual in which he mixes know,” he says. “To stave off screens or boredom, you’re
himself a vodka martini. He prefers it with olives, and some- always trying to come up with something new or imagi-
times the big hit of salt from making it lousy with olive juice. native. What small house can we build to catch a fairy?”
On the rare occasion that he’s out of vodka, Rhys will opt Rhys is an attentive dad. At one point his four-year-old
for gin, but he’s cautious: There’s a reason it’s called “moth- son interrupted our interview.
er’s ruin.” It’s not his first drink of the week. In the past sev- “Dada.”
eral months, Rhys and his partner, the actor Keri Russell, “Yes?”
who joins him for this languid ceremony, have taken to “I said a bad word.”
drinking Pomerol, a merlot from the Bordeaux region. But “That’s okay.”
the martini is a mile marker—another week of this god-aw- “I said ‘shit.’ ”
ful year of pandemic and death and turmoil in the books. “Okay, well, let’s not say it again.”
“I try to keep this bizarre, futile sense of Oh, it’s Friday He also does the bargaining with his partner that all dads
night at 6:00 P.M.; I’ll have a martini. The fucking week is know. Time has always been a precious resource for par-
done,” he says. ents, but in the pandemic, with no break from the onslaught
Rhys, forty-five, is Welsh, so everything he says has a lyr- of requests from children, it has become an even rarer gem.
ical lilt, as if Dylan Thomas (minus about one million packs So parents negotiate with each other. If I distract the kids
of unfiltered Camels) were telling you about the intimate for a while, can I have some time for myself? “I’ll say to Keri:
details of his life. He’s also grown a beard, a big one, start- ‘I’ll take them to the lake for a couple hours,’ which was ba-
ing from the very early days of this pandemic. It lends itself sically just a precursor to saying, ‘If I take them out of this
in a perverse way to the type of actor Rhys has turned into. house for two hours, can I please have maybe an hour and
He’s come to embody characters who are wrestling with a half, or two hours, for myself to go run up a hill?’ ”
disillusionment and searching for hope. A Soviet spy who Now back in Brooklyn, and with Hollywood still figur-
falls in love with his suburban American lifestyle (The Amer- ing out how to make entertainment amid an out-of-control
icans). The man who leaked the Pentagon Papers (The Post). pandemic, Rhys is settling into his role as a Matthew Rhys
An Esquire magazine writer in the throes of an existential character, minus the tragic backstory. A Matthew Rhys
crisis (A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood). A lowlife drunk character for the rest of us. His agenda includes filming
riddled with PTSD (Perry Mason). It’s the kind of résumé the second season of Perry Mason next year, seeing the
that assures viewers that whatever Rhys chooses to be in kids through another school year, and finishing the reno-
must be good. There are also echoes of the American expe- vation of his ninety-year-old boat. Not in that order.
rience in these roles, which Rhys acknowledges. About that boat. It’s from the 1930s, and there are only
“Growing up, I think we always associated America with four like it in the world. The most famous of them is named
hope—the pictures, the TV shows: Anything is possible, Pilar, which Ernest Hemingway acquired with the help of
justice is always served, and therefore there’s hope,” he Esquire magazine. (Esquire’s founding editor lent Hem-
says. “I’m not so sure these days.” ingway money to purchase the boat, then used that as lever-
For nearly everyone in Hollywood, including Rhys, 2020 age to persuade him to write for the magazine; it now sits
has been quiet. Filming for HBO’s Perry Mason wrapped in dry dock outside Havana.) Rhys’s boat is named Rabbit;
in late January, just before everything shut down. In March, he bought it three years ago and is nearly done restoring
Rhys, Russell, and their three children—one together, two it. “I’ve had more setbacks than the Democrats,” he says
from her previous marriage—headed north from their home of his shipwrighting efforts. With some luck, and a few
in Brooklyn to a house in the Catskill Mountains. They re- more weeks of hard work, Rabbit will be seaworthy by the
mained in the mountains for six months, hence the beard. early fall. He has considered making it a charter, complete
As it was for most families, the early part of quarantine with a 1930s Hemingway experience with gramophones
was chaos for the Rhys-Russells, as they adapted, practi- and cocktails. Rhys might even serve the drinks, dyeing
cally overnight, to homeschooling. “We had three kids on his beard white so it becomes Hemingwayesque.
three screens, and it was just this perennial bargaining to “So, I’m telling Keri,” he explains, “ ‘Look, this beard is
keep them there for their allotted time,” he says. “Then now a part of the charter experience. I don’t have a choice
school finished, and we felt this great sense of freedom.” about shaving it. I have to grow it . . . in earnest.’ ”
There were scripts to read and Zoom calls about poten- He pauses for a moment, allowing the full weight of his
tial projects, but much of the time was given over to ex- Hemingway pun to land.
ploring the outdoors. “I feel like I’ve done my greatest “She thinks that’s a terrible fucking joke.”
canon of work in the Catskill Mountains, as I’ve played the —Michael Sebastian
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Over the past two decades, suicide rates have shot up everywhere in America. As
public-health crisis, a group of parents and activists in the East Valley of Arizona are
the
kids are
not
all right
researchers test new theories to better understand this massive, mostly disregarded
working to stop the spread of self-destruction among the teenagers in their community.
by MATTHEW SHAER
photographs by ADRIANA ZEHBRAUSKAS
life was behind him, so Jensen had let the matter drop. to the older boy. “I knew Marcus’s death was hitting him hard, like it was hit-
In the spring, Marcus was kicked off the track team for violating its code of ting all of us hard,” a friend of Mitch’s told me. “But we didn’t really get into
conduct—he’d been playing a taglike game called Assassins, and another stu- it that morning, because that wasn’t how Mitch was. For his whole life, he
dent had been injured. Had it been a matter of just losing his scholarship, put out this image of having his shit together.”
Marcus might have been able to cope. But around the same time, his relation- Warnock wasn’t any more forthcoming with his mother, Lorie, an English
ship with his girlfriend fell apart. Marcus, already in a precarious emotional teacher at a nearby high school. “I remember he had this shocked look on his
state, took the breakup poorly. “Help,” he tweeted on May 11. “I want my life face, and I sat him down and said, ‘Mitch, what do you think about what hap-
3 months ago back.” The next morning, he issued a final warning: “There is pened? What do you think about dying by suicide?’ ” Lorie told me. “He said,
going to be a suicide in the school right now.” ‘Oh, no. That would be the worst thing. That would be’—how did he put it? He
That morning, George Sanchez, a biology teacher, was returning to his class- said, ‘That would be giving up the most precious thing, which is your life.’ ”
room with a stack of photocopies when a student alerted him that there was In 2015, the United States was in the midst of what a Newsweek cover story
someone in the breezeway with a gun. Sanchez dropped the photocopies, called declared a “suicide epidemic.” Nearly every demographic was affected: Black
911, and helped clear the area. All the while, he kept his eyes trained on Marcus, people, white people, Latinx people, and especially Native people, whose com-
who was clutching a handgun. “I can’t take it anymore,” the boy was repeating. munities consistently have the highest rates in the nation. Young people, too,
“I just can’t.” There was a look in his eyes that Sanchez would never forget. like Marcus Wheeler. By the year’s end, more than forty-four thousand Ameri-
As they waited for the police to arrive, administrators ordered the school cans had killed themselves—an average of one suicide every twelve minutes.
into lockdown. In a classroom on the second floor, Wes Jensen picked up his In the weeks and months after Marcus Wheeler’s suicide, Lorie Warnock
phone. Local news stations were reporting that a man with a gun had entered grew concerned about her son. It was obvious to her, and to his friends, that
Mitch was more traumatized by Wheeler’s death than he’d initially let on. “I
think in Mitch’s mind, Marcus had escaped. He’d got out of his pain,” Tyler
Marcus Wheeler had an athletic scholarship to Arizona Central College. “It was Stolworthy, a friend of the two boys’, told me. “To Mitch, that was a green
absolutely amazing to watch him run,” said track light.” Although there was a prayer circle for Marcus in the aftermath of his
teammate Wes Jensen. “He was such a pure athlete, you know?”
death and a balloon-release ceremony on the football field—and although
counselors were made available to the student body—many students wanted
more. They felt as if the school was moving too quickly toward normalcy. “It
was just, ‘This happened, let’s move on,’ ” Stolworthy said. “That was the
mentality that everybody had, I guess.”
In the fall of 2015, Mitch was summoned to a meeting at school. The mes-
sage he got was that if his academic performance didn’t improve, he shouldn’t
expect to get into college. Devastated, Mitch transferred all his hopes for col-
lege admission onto a pole-vaulting scholarship. To help manage the stress,
R O N C E TO N ( W H E E L E R )
he started drinking.
One evening the following school year, Mitch showed up intoxicated to a
Corona football game, barely able to stand. “I was like, ‘Yo, man, are you
cool?’ ” a friend recalled. “Because the security guard at the gate had noticed
how drunk he was, just by his actions.” When the guard pulled Warnock aside,
In 2017, Tatum Stolworthy, a Corona student and Tyler’s sister, founded a tions she’d made across the East Valley school system, McPherson started col-
peer-support organization known as Aztec Strong. Tatum believed the best lecting information. “I’d get a link to a social-media post and there’d be a picture
approach to dealing with suicide was through destigmatization—to talk about of a student who died and hundreds of comments—kids going, ‘I just lost another
the issue, to bring it into the light. McPherson, supported by Stolworthy’s friend.’ Or ‘I’ve lost three friends this year,’ ” McPherson told me. “There were
community efforts, and Lorie Warnock approached a state legislator, Mitzi just so many of them, the suicides, and they had occurred pretty closely together.”
Epstein, with a request that she sponsor a bill mandating suicide-prevention She created a chart on her laptop to keep track. The names on the list weren’t
training for all educators in the state. The bill failed. McPherson and War- just high schoolers. They were recent graduates; they were grade schoolers.
nock pressed forward, taking meetings with every city official and school One evening last fall, I had dinner with Joey, twelve, an East Valley resi-
administrator in the East Valley who would hear them out. “I became, unfor- dent, and his father, Mike. (At their request, I’ve used pseudonyms.) Joey was
tunately, ‘Katey the Suicide Lady,’ ” McPherson told me. slight and brown-haired and shy; he spoke haltingly, his gaze trained mostly
Obituaries for suicide victims rarely list the cause of death. Using the connec- downward. A few years earlier, he told me, he’d met another student whom
to her about the response from their teachers and school administrators. “One After Rudy’s death, his classmates attempted to erect memorials inside
of the things that’s come out is that they don’t feel that the adults care. And the high school—for Rudy and for the others who’d been lost to suicide.
that has everything to do with the way that it’s handled when a suicide hap- Autumn Bourque, a Queen Creek student at the time, wrote a Facebook post
pens. From their perspective, it’s, ‘Oh, you don’t want us to talk about it.’ ” in which she accused school administrators of not encouraging or even sup-
In August 2017, a few days after Sheila found her son’s body, another Queen porting the memorials—of essentially wanting to cover up the problem. “I
Creek mother, Deanna Bencomo, received a call from the school. Her son, am tired of watching my friends cry, and I’m tired of feeling the pain of loss,”
Rudy, hadn’t shown up to class that morning. Deanna was alarmed. Earlier she wrote. “Here the school believes that keeping things quiet is better than
that summer, Rudy, who struggled with anxiety and depression, had checked saying anything at all.” The post went viral locally. I spoke to Bourque in Sep-
into a psychiatric hospital after intentionally cutting himself. “It’s time to tell tember. “It seemed as if the school was embarrassed by the events that took
my story,” he’d tweeted upon his return. “On June 15, I attempted suicide. I place,” she told me, “so tried to hide it.” She recalled that when she’d asked
went to a behavioral hospital and this why I’ve been gone for a min.” He con- why the memorials were a problem, she was told, “It glorifies suicides.”
tinued, “Queen Creek has experienced a lot of suicidal tragedy. . . . It’s heart- (Queen Creek officials told me, “Certain memorials are allowed to stay as
breaking and raises questions. Suicide, successful or not, leaves consequences long as they stay within guidelines provided by school administrators”; they
for everyone. I’m dealing with them now [with] my friends, family, and peo- added that the district has partnered with a local suicide-prevention center,
ple I don’t know. . . . Things are rough. And life is hard. Don’t give up. I am not La Frontera Empact, to help “prevent what is sometimes referred to as the
telling you this for sympathy points. But this shit needs to stop.” contagion effect.”)
Now he was missing. “The people at the school, they go, ‘His friend called and In 2018, Queen Creek invited Suniya Luthar of Arizona State University to
said he has a rope, and we’re worried he’s going to try to hurt himself,’ ” Deanna survey the district’s teenagers with the goal of understanding why so many
recalled. “They’d already started looking for him, and I knew the longer it went, students were struggling. In total, Luthar, who’d run similar studies at schools
the worse it would be.” That afternoon, Deanna found out her son was gone. around the country, collected data from more than (continued on page 102)
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