Fugger: Zooey Deschanel
like Ironside does to shout things like “DAMMIT, MAN, WE HAVE PROCEDURES TO BE FOLLOWED,” so he crankily throws his cyborg out of the car and it gets run over by a semi and then a “defective” old-model detective is assigned to him, and it’s Ealy, and he says things like “I WAS MADE TO FEEL,” and a grudging-respect is born and also probably some conspiracy hooey. Urban looks like he’s phoning it in so hard and so long that his roaming charges will be astronomical. Cramazing.
And yada-yada Greg Kinnear in Rake as a ne’er-do-well (not a gardening tool, though the latter might inspire Emmy voters more) is zzzzzz, AND THEN. Sleepy Hollow has to be seen to be believed. It’s like Thor (Olde-Tymey Ichabod Crane comes back to life in modern America; makes wry comments about how many Starbucks we have and whether the black cops have all been emancipated, because slavery jokes are a treasure) meets National Treasure: Book of Horsemen (“THE ANSWERS ARE IN WASHINGTON’S BIBLE, ICHABOD! ICHABOOOOOOD!!!!!”) and even includes a moment when the cops shout “PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD… oh, wait” and ends with the slogan “Heads. Will. Roll.” As Stefon would say, “It. Has. Everything.” As I would say, “It. Is. Hilarrible.” I’m virtually certain I will watch. Then again, I said that when The Cape‘s hilarrible promo came out a few years ago, and I only made it through an episode and a half.
It’s not even that I don’t LIKE this, necessarily…
… just that, what party did anyone think this WAS? I get that it’s Tommy Hilfiger, and he’s the baron of preppy yachting-chic attire, but the Met Ball is not on a boat. It’s not even boat-adjacent, unless you count everything going on at the piers on the West side of Manhattan, which surely Anna Wintour does not. It’s also not on a beach, at the Hamptons, at someone’s back patio wedding, or in a Land’s End formalwear catalog. So punk theme or not, I’m a little confused about lavender seersucker at the Met Ball, period. I’m ALSO really not sure what I think about ZD without her signature bangs — something that I’m sure she feels a little stuck with now, as most people do with things that inadvertently became their signatures (see also: The Rachel, and possibly Tom Selleck or Victor Newman and their ‘staches) — so let’s just vote on all of it even though I’m vehement in my conclusion that this dress REALLY does not belong here. VEHEMENT, I TELL YOU.
This needs a little work, I think:
Primarily because right now, she looks like a student at one of the turn-of-the-century convent schools about which I used to enjoy reading when I was supposed to be doing my math homework. All she needs is a giant bow in her hair and the ability to make herself faint at will to get out of having to sit through Mass.
I love the idea of a bright cover, and all the saturated rainbow colors and whatnot.
But when I look at Zooey, I think two words: Brenda Walsh. From the cut of her hair to the fact that, due to a combo of position and lighting, one side of her face looks suddenly lopsided in a way deeply reminiscent of Ms. Shannen Doherty. She also looks bored, fatigued, and maybe a little smug about how bored and fatigued she is. Like ennui is the new black — or, I guess, the new red. Seriously, the big red dress with the bow, and Zooey’s natural personality, could’ve combined for a really lively cover and instead it’s like they shot her while she was leaning against a counter taking a smoothie break.
Let’s raise a glass and look at some outfits.