‘Jury Duty’ Star Ronald Gladden Is the American Hero We Need

Everything we can’t stop loving, hating, and thinking about this week in pop culture. [Manage newsletters]( [View in browser]( [The logo for Daily Beast's Obsessed] Everything we can’t stop loving, hating, and thinking about this week in pop culture. with Kevin Fallon Everything we can’t stop loving, hating, and thinking about this week in pop culture. with Kevin Fallon   Advertisement     New This Week - The [Jury Duty phenomenon](. - Are you there, God? [It’s me, Kevin](. - [The Little Mermaid]( is so cursed. - [Patti LuPone]( for president. - Let’s pretend [The Flash isn’t happening](.     Ronald Gladden, Will You Marry Me? If Ronald Gladden ran for office tomorrow, I would vote for him. If he asked me on a date, I would insist it happen in a wedding chapel. If he were in grave danger, I would jump into the line of fire for him. I know I’m not alone in this. Protect this man. Worship this man. Make this man my husband. (A person can wish.) I think the collective opinion of anyone who has watched [Jury Duty](, the Freevee series about a regular guy participating in a fake court case after being [tricked into thinking]( he was on a real jury, echoes what the judge tells him before the show’s big reveal: “You, Ronald Gladden, are a hero.” Over the course of eight episodes, Gladden, who was a solar panel installer in California before becoming the center of the buzziest show on streaming, exhibits qualities that, if you even just blink at the news or spend 4.5 seconds scrolling through social media, you’d think were extinct in this country. Bizarro twists were hurled at him throughout the show, like a tennis ball-pitching machine on the fritz. Rather than becoming overwhelmed and throwing a tantrum, or even just succumbing to the bruising blows, Ronald showed patience. He projected sincerity, compassion, extreme empathy, and a generosity unlike I’ve seen in a long time. And when it comes to the fake trail he was tasked with adjudicating, he displayed a remarkable sense of civic duty and responsibility. Ronald Gladden is a hero. And he is, implausibly, the hottest star in America right now. (He’s also a tall, handsome, absolute snack—a big ole patriotic piece of string cheese—but that’s neither here nor there. And yet everywhere.) Jury Duty is very much in the vein of [Nathan Fielder](’s recent elaborate mockumentary, [The Rehearsal](, in which actors also manipulate an unexpecting victim—except, you know, this one is a lot nicer. Gladden thought he was signing up for a documentary about what it is like to be a juror today. Instead, the show’s producers and writers staged an astonishing, complicated universe populated by actors portraying everyone from his fellow jurors to the judge, the lawyers, bailiff, and witnesses. (As a fun surprise, [James Marsden]( plays a heightened version of himself, a celebrity annoyed to be given jury duty.) The team meticulously mapped out amade-up case in which a t-shirt factory employee is accused of arriving to work drunk and peeing and pooping on the inventory, itself presenting one of the most difficult hurdles for Gladden to clear: keeping a straight face, as everyone seriously debates the logistics of poo. The actors do an award-worthy job of crafting a juror’s box full of weirdos, who wouldn’t be out of place in an episode of The Office (co-creators Lee Eisenberg and Gene Stupnitsky wrote for several seasons of the NBC hit). But they also ground their characters just enough that Gladden is compelled to forge genuine connections with them. He counsels them on their personal issues, encourages them when they’re down, and even takes the blame for their giant shits that clog hotel toilets. When he’s named the jury’s foreman, he rises to the occasion as the group’s de facto leader, becoming at once their mentor, social director, and “cool guy you just wanna hang out with.” It’s that last bit that makes Jury Duty so special. Sure, the series is often hilarious, as the cast dials up their quirks to outrageous levels. But Gladden’s most outsized reaction to all of it is politely struggling to keep a straight face. Because of the strength of Gladden’s character, Jury Duty escapes any risk of seeming mean-spirited, as so many of these kinds of prank productions become. The more things devolve into a kangaroo court, the more human he seems. It’s no wonder, then, that everyone falls in love with him: the actors on the show, the audience watching, and myself. If I understood what a “fancam” was, I’d try to make one in his honor. If I knew where to find them, I’d watch them all day. Jury Duty would not work without Gladden. So it’s no surprise to see the level of the fawning over him there is online. Much of it is respectful; a lot of it is understandably thirsty (watch the show and you’ll understand!):   After finishing the series, did I stalk Gladden online to the extent that I found myself combing through his tagged photos until I found one of him in a bathing suit from several years ago, and then send it to all my friends? Yes, but, you see, I am a journalist. An investigation like this is my professional calling. Besides, I have always maintained: The highest respect you can pay an actor, who impresses you with their performance in a TV show or movie, is to Google their name plus “shirtless” immediately after the credits roll. (He seems to have untagged the photo; it lives on solely as a screenshot in my camera roll.) The lust for Ronald Gladden aside, it’s been wild to see the popularity of Jury Duty itself grow since its April 7 debut, particularly exploding in the wake of last week’s finale, as if it were a [rocket ship built by Elon Musk](. Everyone I know is talking and tweeting about it. People who don’t usually care about TV are texting me, “Hey, have you watched this Jury Duty show?” It has been brought to my attention that clips from the series, especially ones featuring Gladden, are all over TikTok—though I am far too geriatric to confirm or deny such an assertion. (I’m over here still trying to figure out how to do the [Meghan Trainor “Made You Look” dance](.) This is not supposed to happen with a show that airs on a platform called Freevee, mostly because I still do not know what, exactly, Freevee is—and I’d venture most of you don’t either. But the realization that it was available to watch on Prime Video as well (Amazon owns both platforms) and a curiosity piqued by all the viral memes and videos has built Jury Duty into the kind of phenomenon that the industry rarely sees. Thinking about the Jury Duty hoopla, I’m reminded of the sudden [success of Schitt’s Creek](, and [even of Ted Lasso](. Both were comedies that were small and hard to find. Who knew what PopTV was before Schitt’s, or that Apple even made TV shows before Ted Lasso? They saw massive spikes in popularity as word of mouth grew, eventually becoming bonafide hits because they largely spoke to the current moment. That’s to say that, at a time when people seemed to really need it, they were shows that were very funny, but also very…nice. The wholesomeness of Jury Duty and the goodness of Gladden are, in many ways, antidotes to the cynicism we all feel right now, especially when it comes to the civic concerns of our nation. It takes a Ronald Gladden to pull us through.     Are You There God? It’s Me, Kevin For the last 30 minutes, I cried. I didn’t know I was crying. I didn’t feel upset or extremely moved. But there was a vibe that [Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret]( projected that was just emotional. I’ve spent a bit of time trying to figure out what it was, and I think it’s just that, in ways that few movies do, it captured what it means to be human. Margaret feels a lot. Some of it is ludicrous. Some of it is very important. But all of it is huge. What struck me, though, was the way that it all bounced off her mother, played by Rachel McAdams. The more I sit with this movie, the more I realize how brilliant McAdams is in it. And, too, how clever her casting was. This film, and the classic book Judy Blume wrote, is about a young girl coming of age. But I was struck in the film by how much of the story is Margaret’s mother’s arc, too. McAdams plays Margaret’s mom, Barbara, an artist who moves her family to the New Jersey suburbs because she thinks it will allow them to live a Norman Rockwell life. Over the course of the film, you see her realize how delusional that is—the very reason her family works so well is because they allow themselves to be the antithesis of convention. McAdams was cast in this role because she’s an amazing actress—in the “big scene” when Margaret gets what she’s been praying for, McAdams is so alive and kinetic, cycling through 400 reactions and emotions in the span of seconds, like a mother would. But, from a celebrity standpoint, there’s something profound that underlies her performing that role. This is the person we saw as the Alpha Female in Mean Girls, the love interest we all wished we could be in The Notebook, and the reporter who is so good at her job—at listening—that McAdams got an Oscar nomination for playing her in Spotlight. These roles represent different fragments of womanhood. In Are You There God?, she’s playing a parent shepherding a daughter through her journey, but also learning that her own role can’t be checked by a box or described by a character type. She’s so good in this movie, which is also phenomenal. I hope you all see it.     Is Flounder OK? The character posters for The Little Mermaid came out this week. Never have I felt more dubious about a movie. Why take a perfect animated film, one that generations consider the cornerstone of their childhoods, and turn it into a CGI mess? Money, I suppose, is the answer. But if the reactions to these posters is any indication, I wonder if that will even be worth it. (Which is to say we all, obviously, will see this movie, and it will make a bajillion dollars. But at what cost?!) None of these posters are good. But the Flounder one, especially, is not good. Does our little fish bud need to go to rehab? Is he OK?     Patti LuPone Is Always Winning Can we figure out a way to have Patti LuPone always be on a press tour? The thing about celebrities when they do press is that they’re not supposed to tell the truth. How are they really feeling? They’ll never tell! It’s all a carefully choreographed dance to make you intrigued by them, and thus their project. Then there’s Patti LuPone. She is so candid that I think Andy Cohen just has her on retainer anytime he needs someone to spill some good gossip. (The title of the YouTube video of her most recent appearance on his talk show: “[Patti LuPone Isn’t Happy About Kim Kardashian’s New Acting Gig](.”) Her press tour for Beau Is Afraid, [whatever you think of the film](, is the epitome of *chef’s kiss.* Here’s some of my favorite quotes.       What If We Just Don’t See The Flash? The upcoming [DC movie The Flash]( has been marred by controversy. After WB held a preview screening of it for the tweet-happy folks at CinemaCon this week, most of them did their [dutiful, fawning PR]( for the studio. Then there was [this tweet](, flagged to me by my colleague Allegra Frank. It is perfect. Let’s skip this movie.     More From The Daily Beast’s Obsessed Just when you were going to give up on Marvel movies, Guardians of the Galaxy goes and gives you a great one. [Read more](. All of us keep saying we want original shows. Mrs. Davis is nothing if not original AF. [Read more](. I talked to Carol Burnett! That is huge! [Read more](.     [See This]   - Frog and Toad: [They’re gay](! (Now on Apple TV+) - White House Plumbers: A Watergate series for people who’d like Justin Theroux to come address their pipes. (Mon. on HBO) - A Small Light: Sometimes a TV show is well-made and important. This is such a case. (Mon. on National Geographic) [Skip This]   - Citadel: Someone at Amazon enjoys [lighting money on fire](. (Now on Prime Video) - Peter Pan & Wendy: Spoiler alert: [He doesn’t grow up](. (Now on Disney+)   Like our take on what to watch? Check out our see skip newsletter! [Sign up for free](     [The logo for Daily Beast's Obsessed] [TV]( [Movies]( [Reviews]( [Previews]( [TV]( [Reviews]( [Movies]( [Previews]( [Daily Beast Obsessed Facebook]( [Daily Beast Obsessed Twitter]( [Daily Beast Obsessed Instagram](   Advertisement   Was this email forwarded to you? [Sign up here.](   [Daily Beast]( [Facebook]( [Twitter]( [Instagram]( © 2023 The Daily Beast Company LLC I 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](.