The most beautiful blonde in the music industry, Troye Sivan, is back with a stunning visual for his song "Lucky Strike" off his 2018 album Bloom.

The song itself is a dreamy dance track that continually asks, "Tell me all the ways to love you," over a pop beat. The video was directed by Emma Westenberg (Janelle Monae's "PYNK"), and it's clear throughout "Lucky Strike" that Westenberg's eye for unique visuals has once again created a memorable companion to a not-so-memorable song.


But, perhaps more importantly, Brandon Good, who plays Sivan's love interest, is blessedly scantily clad for the majority of the video.

It begins with shots of Sivan in an ultra-retro beach scene, complete with 1980's bright colors and film filters. We see him looking longingly after the handsome guy behind the bar (Good), who then makes him a pulsing-heart/blood cocktail. As the video progresses, we see shots of Sivan and Good at sunset, holding each other and looking dramatically at the waves. The video does not skimp on sultry close ups of Sivan's angelic face, and eventually Sivan does a weird, melodramatic strut that we wanted to hate but really, really loved.

While the video follows a teen beach movie narrative, it's gorgeously complicated not only by the surrealism of the beating heart imagery, but also by the unabashed telling of a queer love story, something that still remains an unfortunate rarity in music videos. Once again, "Lucky Strike" proves that Troye sivan is the pop star we don't deserve, but desperately need.


Brooke Ivey Johnson is a Brooklyn based writer, playwright, and human woman. To read more of her work visit her blog or follow her twitter @BrookeIJohnson.


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Lindsay Lohan's Beach Club Is a Greek Tragedy

Lindsay Lohan stars in this classic Greek drama.

What if, for just a moment, we take the premise of Lindsay Lohan's Beach Club seriously?

In this brave story of triumph and redemption, Lindsay Lohan, former alcoholic, drug abuser, and disgraced teen idol behind Herbie Fully Loaded, has finally gotten clean. At only 32, she's not too old to start again. She's picked up the pieces of her shattered life and moved to Mykonos, an Island off the coast of Greece. There, she's redirected her passion for entertainment, opening her own venue where she can bring joy to others without needing to dwell in the spotlight — this is Lindsay Lohan's Beach Club.

But Lindsay Lohan can't do it alone. Recovery and new beginnings mean having others to support you along the way. Luckily, Lindsay has the help of her new Athenian best friend, Panos, who has taken it upon himself to bring in the best VIP nightclub hosts from all across "the hottest US cities" to help make sure her beach club runs like clockwork.

"The VIP hosts to me are not just hosts. They're ambassadors to the Lohan brand. They have to be the best," Lohan tells Panos, desperation coloring her inflection.

"The best of the best," Panos promises, assuring her that these hosts will not only be great at their jobs in every capacity - they'll be gorgeous, fun, and master salespeople to boot. Yes, with these VIP hosts on the floor, Lindsay Lohan's Beach Club will be the talk of the island. No, more than that. A destination.

Lindsay can barely contain her excitement. She's finally on the verge of something great. She trusts Panos implicitly. She hasn't felt this hopeful since her Disney days, back when she was fresh-faced, wide-eyed, and naive to the evils of stardom. Most people don't get second chances. In that sense, she's lucky. Just as long as this club is successful, she's going to build an empire.

Except there's a problem. Every single "best VIP host" Panos has found is a complete moron - a real group of fuck-ups. There's Brent, a bronzed meathead who brags about getting fired from past jobs for "slaying" all the waitresses; Jules, a woman who asks her dog if she should "be a little slut"; and don't forget Mike, a loud Italian guy who gets bread stuck in his butt.

This is Panos' dream team. And considering a business owner is only as good as the people around them, Lindsay Lohan and her beach club are in a lot of trouble.

But Lindsay Lohan doesn't know this yet. How could she?

And so the "best of the best" hosts arrive, flown out from America to Lindsay Lohan's property, the place she's invested with her hopes and dreams for a better life. She gives them a chance to get settled in their rooms, but finally her excitement gets the best of her and she goes to greet them.

Imagine Lindsay Lohan's horror when she meets her new employees for the first time, top talents hand-picked by her best friend and confidant, only to discover a group of shit-faced buffoons. They must have known she'd be coming. Was this an insult? A power play? Yet another "fuck you" from a fuck you ridden life? These people are trying to ruin her future, and she won't let it happen. Not again.

So she tells them off. And sure, Lindsay Lohan entering the scene and immediately freaking out might rehash some old stereotypes. But can anyone really blame her this time? After all, this is her chance. Her vision. Her money and future. It's all on the line. So she'll play the part. She tells one of the girls, Gabi, to dye her blue hair pink because the Beach Club DJ already has blue hair. That's what they need. A display of dominance. She'll play the bitch today, so tomorrow they'll fall in line.

Then, on the first day of work, Brent fucks one of Lindsay Lohan's Beach Club's VIP guests while on the clock and starts drama with the other staff. But it's too late now. Brent, with his penis out in the ocean, outsells everyone. Lindsay Lohan comes to the horrible realization that Brent — this totally unabashedly sexist piece of shit who openly hates women — is the best she has.

Lindsay Lohan watches her dreams and future sink into the sandy shores of Mykonos. Her best friend, Panos, is a fraud. She's surrounded by idiots who "don't have what it takes."

Then again, she's still Lindsay Lohan, star of Freaky Friday and The Parent Trap. She's made it this far. She's overcome so much. She'll be damned if some guy from New Jersey who puts bread in his ass crack is going to ruin that.


Dan Kahan is a writer & screenwriter from Brooklyn, usually rocking a man bun. Find more at dankahanwriter.com



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Oscars 2018 Preview: Best Picture

Get Caught Up on This Year's Nominees

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Yesterday the Academy revealed their nominees for the 2018 Oscars. In case you're not caught up, here's Popdust's previews of the Best Picture candidates:


The Phantom Thread

It's been a decade since the Paul Thomas Anderson, Daniel Day-Lewis and Johnny Greenwood dream team got together to make a film, and while The Phantom Thread may not be quite as seismic as There Will Be Blood, it's made with just as much quality and finesse. Methodical, detailed, and imbued with significance in every smallest moment of run time, it's also the film that pushed Day-Lewis to retire from acting, which makes The Phantom Thread worth watching on two fronts. For a more in-depth look, check out my review.


Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

For my money, Martin McDonagh is one of Europe's most talented dramatists alive today. Three Billboards plays like a stage show—small scale, modest production value, dialogue-driven, etc—and possesses the qualities of McDonagh's best works: icky moral dilemmas, harsh characters, every variation on sh*t, piss and c*nt. Perhaps no other film this year is as tightly written.


The Shape of Water

Not since Beauty and the Beast itself has a film concerning bestiality (or whatever the monster version of that term would be) garnered so much critical acclaim as The Shape of Water. Like much of Guillermo del Toro's work, Water is beautifully colored and shot, but lacks depth in its writing. In spite of an emotional climax that amounts to the sort of "he loves me for who I really am" sentiment most common to teenage dramas and rom-coms, The Shape of Water has been reeling in praise and Critics' Choice Awards. Plus, the monster character looks a lot like an Oscar statue up close, so that bodes well.


Lady Bird

In tone and style, Greta Gerwig may be the closest equivalent to Woody Allen for the millennial generation. The character of Lady Bird, played by Saiorse Ronan, feels like a culmination of all the other pseudo-Gerwig protagonists of past films—Mistress America and Maggie's Plan come to mind—and the story a culmination of that character. It's also really funny.


Get Out

I remember listening to the October 29, 2013 episode of Pete Holmes' podcast, when Jordan Peele, his featured guest, mentioned a script he was working out: a sort of comedy-horror film called 'Get Out'. He played it off as being early-stage and, frankly, I wasn't too interested in a movie with such a bland title from the Key & Peele guy. Evidently, I did a misread. Get Out isn't perfect—the acting is fine, it's (intentionally) corny, and it plays the Easter eggs meta-game with little regard for subtlety (He drives a Lincoln? Just hammer it into my skull why don't you?). But its concept is, basically, perfect—unique, hilarious, social commentary turned on its head—which is particularly refreshing in our age of sequels, revivals and rehashes. There's also never been a movie more suited to its cultural moment.


Dunkirk

Dunkirk is another pique Christopher Nolan picture—heavy, shot in expensive film, meant for only the largest of IMAX theaters. Its subject—the battles at Dunkirk during the Second World War—is so significant in 20th century history that it's surprising how few films have gone there before. Most importantly, in addition to all the other young British actors you can think of, it non-ironically features Harry Styles in a dramatic role.


The Post

If every Hollywood movie ever made had a group baby together, it might look something like The Post. The product of three of the industry's most accomplished and least objectionable figures—Meryl Streep, Tom Hanks and Steven Spielberg—with a current events tie-in and leftist political appeal, The Post may just be the most normal movie ever made, for better and for worse.


Darkest Hour

Faced with the fate of his nation—whether to fight or surrender to the seemingly unstoppable Nazi Blitzkreig—Winston Churchill steps out of his private car on the way to Parliament, and takes the Tube for the first time in his life. Of course, no single bit of this sequence occurred in real life, but even as you're sitting knowing that, the pure emotion of the scene compels you to just let it happen. Such is the tension of Darkest Hour: it's Hollywood-ization without remorse, though the product itself is a terribly compelling drama.


Call Me By Your Name

Starring the point guard of this author's middle school Safe Haven basketball team, Call Me By Your Name is beautifully deep and uncomplicated. Much more compelling than what the film is actually about—a teen summer romance, queerness, coming-of-age—is how it handles the minute-to-minute interactions and shifts in its characters. For more, read my review here.


For continuing Oscars coverage, stay tuned for Popdust's predictions and review of the show.