Certain Sips: The Weekend Brew—Deep Cuts Edition
Five Hot Minutes ☕ February 28, 2025
A weekly cultural and political brief—Certain Sips: the Weekend Brew
I have a confession: I have never seen Reality Bites.
I know nothing about the 1994 hit film, other than the fact that it meant something to Gen Xers and it was nepo baby Ben Stiller’s directorial debut. As a lover of film and a child of the nineties, my failure to watch Reality Bites feels like an important experiential omission that must be rectified at some point. But not this weekend. This weekend, the priority is watching old Gene Hackman films I haven’t seen, in wake of the 95-year old Hollywood legend’s untimely death in New Mexico.
Incidentally death, loss, and legend are core themes of the second season of Severance, a dark and mysterious comedy executive produced and at times directed by the aforementioned Stiller. In his TV and podcast rounds to promote Season 2 of the show, Stiller has been asked about some of his earlier work, including Reality Bites and the beloved Zoolander. I have yet to hear any conversation cover the lesser known 1998 Stiller feature Zero Effect, a quirky mystery co-starring Bill Pullman and directed by first-timer Jake Kasdan—himself the son of Hollywood heavyweight Lawrence Kasdan.
Good Viewing
An old friend introduced me to Zero Effect when we were in high school. I have seen the film countless times, owning it first on VHS and then on DVD. It has been years since I’ve watched it, and I wonder how well it holds up over time. Zero Effect boasts a Rotten Tomatoes score of 66% and was a box office flop—though at a $5 Million budget, the loss to Castle Rock Entertainment and Columbia Pictures was really a drop in the bucket.
To whatever degree the project was a failure, it didn’t stop Kasdan from moving on to make the profitable Orange County and Walk Hard: the Dewey Cox Story, and two astronomically successful Jumanji films. To my teenage ears though, the breakout revelation of Zero Effect was to be found in its soundtrack: I fell head over heels for a golden-guitar love song by independent artist Brendan Benson.
Good Listening
“Take my hand and let it begin, open your heart and let me in.”
Barely deep and minimally poetic, Emma J employs simple lyrics to express a simple emotion: romantic obsession. Brendon Benson croons over power chords, a dialed back production typical of his best songs. These melodies form a potent delivery device for straightforward stanzas that hit the eardrum, then move from the brainstem to the heart and the spirit. The first time I heard the song while watching the film, I was hypnotized by Benson’s strumming and his voice. Twenty-five years later, Emma J still still captivates me completely when I hear it.
“There’s a girl whose kiss is all I dream of. I’m the boy who prays it’s with me that she’s in love.”
These lyrics are not going to win anyone a Pulitzer. But it doesn’t matter. The song works; in fact the song is perfect in its simple and pure passion. Some time this weekend, take three minutes and 48 seconds to enjoy this gem of a deep cut. Then, take another three minutes and 48 seconds to treat yourself to a second helping of Emma J. Have a fantastic weekend, old sport. See you next time.
ICYMI, check out these related posts:
Certain Sips: The Weekend Brew—Drake, Deb Haaland, and Peggy Flanagan
Drake may never release another good song again, which would be most unfortunate for his genuine fans like me. In light of this week’s epic failure, I soothed myself by enjoying some of his old brilliance: Champagne Poetry, the ambitious 6-minute lead track off 2021’s Certified Lover Boy.
Certain Sips: The Weekend Brew
And so we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past. Or in other words, I’m turning into my father.
