The Very Important Saga of Cher and the Loneliest Elephant

Apologies to Obsessed readers who received last week’s newsletter. Here is this week’s—and it involves Cher. [Manage newsletters]( [View in browser]( [Image] with Kevin Fallon Everything we can’t stop loving, hating, and thinking about this week in pop culture. Editor’s note: Apologies to Obsessed readers who received last week’s newsletter. Here is this week’s—and it involves Cher. This Week: - Cher and her lonely elephant is all of us. - Why aren’t you dummies watching the Oscar nominees? - Nothing on TV is better than Top Chef. - A TV moment I’ll never stop thinking about. - Whoopi Goldberg, now presiding over my conscience. Cher, a Sad, Fat Elephant, and Me Allow me to tell you the saga of a bored and depressed oversize male in his mid-thirties who is so traumatized by spending so much time alone in confined quarters that [only Cher can save him](. Ah, but this is not a story about me. [Alternate text] This is the now world-famous story of Kaavan, an abused and deteriorating 36-year-old bull elephant languishing at a dilapidated zoo in Pakistan, who [captured the attention of global icon Cher]( after a viral #FreeKaavan hashtag caught her attention on Twitter. The star sprang into action, diving into research and calling in a network of high-powered favors as part of a five-year international operation to relocate Kaavan from his veritable prison to a sanctuary—a Herculean rescue mission executed in the midst of a deadly pandemic. It is a spotlight on the abuses of animals still rampant across the world, and the logistical summits that must be climbed in order to right each individual, horrible case—even ones as famous as Kaavan’s. It is an unlikely new star vehicle for Cher, the [queen of reinvention and longevity](, and one that suits her well. It is beautiful. It is moving. It is heartbreaking and inspiring. It is a “song for the lonely,” as Cher quite literally sings as the odyssey unfolds. It is Cher & the Loneliest Elephant. The documentary premiered on Earth Day on Paramount+, ahead of its linear debut on the Smithsonian Channel on May 19. The appeal of this film is baked right into the title. This is a movie about Cher and the world’s loneliest elephant. I can’t think of a more foolproof logline. What human on this doomed planet has not been waiting for exactly this to watch and uplift them from their eternal malaise of existence? Cher! And! The! Loneliest! Elephant! How can I sell you on this more? Well, it is about Cher and a lonely elephant, so I frankly don’t know what else to say. I will add that the whole thing is much more exhilarating than I expected. More than just “famous lady makes a few phone calls,” the documentary outlines what a massive effort it was to save Kaavan. It turns out making an appeal across international borders for a country’s government to close down a zoo, and then figure out a way to transport a four-ton elephant over 2,300 miles—a seven-hour plane ride and then a four-hour drive—all while a pandemic has shut down borders and rendered travel and human contact dangerous is more complicated than Cher seeing a tweet, ringing up Pakistan, and saying “I’m Cher and I want to free that elephant.” (Though I would defy any government to say no if she did.) I feel secure in saying that it’s been a week, let alone a year, in which we could all use a happy ending. Or, in this case, a superhero saves-the-day story adapted to real-life stakes. That’s not to say that the exaggerated circumstances, which would seem made up if they weren’t true, isn’t part of the fun: One of the biggest celebrity divas alive spearheads the effort to make a sad elephant’s life a little better. But for all the joking at the top of the piece, it isn’t hard to see yourself in this journey… even if it’s a stretch. Then again, seeing myself in any narrative that includes the word “Cher” is never that much of a stretch. Especially now, as we’re maybe kind-of-sort-of looking at the possibility of leaving our miserable confines of pandemic isolation—an exciting relief of a prospect—I had to laugh when, after finally getting approval to move Kaavan to freedom at a sanctuary, everyone learned that elephant would have to go on a diet in order to fit on the plane. Kaavan, I get it. When Cher first gets to Pakistan and meets Kaavan for the first time, she says, “The first thing I noticed is, what is he doing in this hellhole, which is as big as my fingernail?”—a keen observation she might make of all of us in tiny city apartments for 15 months of a pandemic. Then she says, “He’s so big. I didn’t realize.” Oh, girl… There’s so much commotion when she arrives that Kaavan is skittish, an unsettling experience I can imagine we might all feel once confronted with hordes of people again for the first time. The only way he can be soothed is if Cher starts singing to him the Frank Sinatra song “My Way,” which, again, I totally get it. What I’m saying is that I am the loneliest elephant. The loneliest elephant is me. Obviously, that’s a joke. But it is fun, and certainly unexpected, to have Cher attached to yet another milestone—being ushered out of the pandemic—as she has for so many of us all the decades of our lives. Personally, let’s just say that blasting “Believe” non-stop, or coming up with a choreographed routine to “The Shoop Shoop Song (It’s in His Kiss)” from Mermaids in my childhood bedroom, was a formative part of coming to terms with my identity. My twin nephews were born as I was sleeping off a hangover after attending Cher’s most recent concert tour, once again cementing herself in one of the most important experiences of my life—albeit one in which I don’t come off in the most flattering light. And now this. Even without all that connection, Cher & the Loneliest Elephant is the breeziest, most impactful thing I’ve watched this week, an easy, casual viewing that manages to strike you right in the heart. Watch it! It’s nice. Why Are You Still Not Watching the Oscar Nominees? Sometimes, even a Pavlovian response can make you sound like an idiot. This year, like every year, it has been brought up in conversations with many people I know, people who follow me on social media, and just people in general that the [Oscars are coming up](—this Sunday, in fact. It’s a big deal! It’s the Oscars! Even now! And this year, like every year, these people have proudly—smugly even, like it’s something to brag about—interjected something along the lines of “Who cares? I haven’t seen any of the movies anyway.” [Alternate text] Sometimes this in protest of the idea that the nominated films are too niche and don’t appeal to a mainstream moviegoer. That has historically been a fair criticism. Often, they’re either limited-release films or still only in theaters in the lead-up to Oscar night, and it’s not possible for the average movie fan to see them. But that’s just not true this year. [Because you can](. For the first time in my lifetime, you can see pretty much every nominee right now before the Oscars—and have been able to for weeks, in some cases for months. If availability and accessibility have always been your gripe, why are you still not watching them? Nomadland, which is likely to win everything? It’s on Hulu, and so is Andra Day’s Best Actress-nominated performance in The United States vs. Billie Holliday and the sensational Best International Feature and Best Director nominee Another Round. The Trial of the Chicago 7, Mank, Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom, Hillbilly Elegy, and Pieces of a Woman, all up for a slew of Best Picture and acting prizes, are all on Netflix. But instead you’re all watching (pulls up Netflix’s current Top 10 list), a film I have never heard of called Synchronic and Melissa McCarthy’s least funny movie in years, Thunder Force. If you have Prime Video, free with your Amazon Prime account, you can watch multi-nominees Sound of Metal, Borat Subsequent Moviefilm, and One Night in Miami. And whereas some late-qualifying theatrical indie releases used to be impossible to see unless you lived in New York or Los Angeles, Judas and the Black Messiah, The Father, Minari, and Promising Young Woman are available to rent on Video on Demand from your own home. Sure, some people may not want to pay $19.99 to watch Anthony Hopkins in the throes of dementia, but the option is actually there! I say this because, anecdotally, the same people who seem curious about this year’s Oscar nominees have still been reverting to the old scoff, “Well, I haven’t seen them…” It’s one thing to not be interested in watching these films—a totally fine and separate issue—and I’m not arguing one way or another on whether the Oscars still matter. (Though it certainly makes the case for the latter when the average American movie fan can watch every nominated movie from their home and still won’t do it.) This is the crankiest “Well, actually…” rant I’ve ever done about something I don’t really care that much about. But to all those who keep telling me you haven’t “been able” to watch this year’s Oscar nominees: “Well, actually,” you can. It’s a little disappointing, too. It could have been fun for, at least once, the majority of people to have seen the films and be invested in the races, instead of just watching one actress from a movie you’ll never see beat another. That said, you still have time! Stream some contenders. Just not Mank. Please God, never watch Mank. I Would Die for Everyone on Top Chef An unfortunate emotional consequence of my inexplicable instinct to watch every single cooking competition series on TV is the surprising (or, let’s face it, not) frequency with which I end up crying. A restaurant owner on [Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives]( sharing a particularly moving saga about their journey to America as they demonstrate how they make their locally famous pierogies? Tears. A child on Kids Baking Championship can’t control their feelings because they’re so upset they overbaked their cake? Devastated. After an episode of Chopped featuring cafeteria ladies from rural schools, I had to take a long, moody walk along the river, listening to Joni Mitchell as I stared off and contemplated humanity. This is all to say there is a low bar, yet I’m still shocked by how poignant and fun the [new season of Top Chef]( has been. In its 18th season, the series is still the gold standard—and most exciting—culinary competition on TV. That’s no small feat considering how reliably other veteran reality shows (from [American Idol]( to [Dancing With the Stars]() have belly-flopped into the deep end in desperate attempts to maintain relevancy and buzz. Top Chef has locked away the bells and whistles reality TV has been flailing to grab in recent years. Instead, it has enriched each new season with more culture and connections between emotion and food, and leaning into its own legacy as the genre’s classiest show. The most recent, Portland-set season spotlights the plight of chefs and restaurant workers during COVID. Their devastation and anxiety, but also their relief and joy to be able to prove themselves and cook again, pulses through every episode. Chefs are candid about how hard the shutdown hit their psyches, several talking openly about the alcohol dependencies they developed. But they’re also cooking with more passion than I’ve ever seen in the series; it’s clear just how high the stakes are. The season is a sharp reminder of all that’s been lost, but also how much we have to return to when this is over. The biggest compliment to the kind of show that Top Chef has built over the years is how naturally these conversations fit into it. And not just COVID. There are conversations about Black Lives Matter—at the time of filming, protests are happening just outside the set—and how overdue American food culture is to embrace the African diaspora’s influence, the wonderful theme of last week’s episode. At a time when reality TV seems more content than ever to being background noise, Top Chef demands that you pay attention. That’s in stark contrast to the other reality series I’m hooked on right now: [Bravo’s Below Deck franchise](. The best part of these shows is how absolutely, truly, very little you have to pay attention to anything that’s going on and still reap enjoyment from them. I caught up on [Below Deck: Sailing Yacht]( this week, and every single time someone mentioned a character's name, I had no idea who they were talking about. Yet I had just happily watched three consecutive episodes. All of this is to say, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed and been moved by this Top Chef season thus far. It’s still only a few episodes in, but I’m already sad for when it’s going to be time to pack up our knives and go. I Will Be Telling My Grandkids About This Bernadette Peters Moment If you don’t watch [Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist on NBC](, you are missing a gem of a series. It is one of the most bizarre things on TV at the moment in every glorious way, as it careens through shattering heartbreak and broad comedy, all while singing and dancing to popular songs. [Alternate text] The most recent episode featured Bernadette Peters drunkenly [singing and dancing to Sia’s “Cheap Thrills.”]( The Broadway veteran, spritely as ever, tipsily skips through the kitchen like Thumbelina threw back a shot of Tito’s and then decided to prance across some lily pads, pausing at one point to guzzle more red wine. Bernadette Peters belting “I ain’t got cash, I ain’t got cash, but I got you baby...” I’ve never been more delighted. It is an iconic moment of television and I will not rest until every human being alive is talking about it. ([Watch it here](.) Whoopi, Forever Some decorating news: I have decided to have this photo of Whoopi Goldberg from [her recent Variety cover story](—in which, based on that regal facial expression, I imagine she is wordlessly saying, “Kevin, think about your choices...”—wallpapered across my wall. I need the reminder. [Alternate text] [Alternate text] - A Black Lady Sketch Show: A serotonin blast of comedy when we could really use it. (Friday on HBO) - The Big Shot With Bethenny Frankel: That I will follow Bethenny to the ends of the earth is my own personal cross to bear. (Sunday on HBO Max) - Romeo and Juliet: Sexy Prince Charles from The Crown (Josh O’Connor) stars in a shortened, present-day take on the Shakespeare play, a Mad Libs that is most pleasing to me. (Friday on PBS) [Alternate text] - Mortal Kombat: My mom wouldn’t let me play the videogames because they were too violent, so I have no attachment to this. (Friday in theaters and HBO Max) Advertisement [Facebook]( [Twitter]( [Instagram]( © Copyright 2021 The Daily Beast Company LLC 555 W. 18th Street, New York NY 10011 [Privacy Policy]( If you are on a mobile device or cannot view the images in this message, [click here]( to view this email in your browser. To ensure delivery of these emails, please add emails@thedailybeast.com to your address book. If you no longer wish to receive these emails, or think you have received this message in error, you can [safely unsubscribe](.