some news! cannes open call! (and how the wire rewired our brain)

The TFS Reader Hotline post 📞 Plus, some really exciting announcements.

In my mind, this is written across a vibrant pink sky in all capitals:

THANK YOU FOR GROWING THAT FINAL SCENE TO 5000+ SUBSCRIBERS!!

5000+ of you want to read my words about hegemonic masculinity in Greek mythology and the romance of anti-capitalism and Tumblr boy Bill Skarsgård?? Should I be grateful or offended? I’m leaning toward grateful.

I still get butterflies thinking about it, and if you’re reading this, you’re one of those butterflies. I know everyone says this when they hit a milestone, but it really is hard to put into words what it feels like to have thousands of people choose to spend their valuable time reading my silly little newsletter each week.

But then I got to thinking about what feels special about That Final Scene — what keeps our community engaging and what keeps me writing — and it’s that TFS is a place for radical gentleness in an incredibly abrasive world. Gentleness, in my view, is about accepting and embracing the inherent messiness of life, about refusing to participate in a culture that commodifies our attention and asks us to sacrifice our humanity for the sake of consumption. Gentleness is my guiding principle, and radical gentleness is the only thing that can sustain me through the chaos of being alive.

That’s why, as a thank you for this milestone and because I want to do the exact opposite of what major subscription services are doing:

I’m lowering the price of my paid subscription¹ to $5/month (which is the minimum monthly rate on Substack) or $40/year (which is 37% cheaper than monthly) 🥳

I’ve been thinking about the price drop for a while and I want to explain it — or rather, the headspace that led to it.

I’m 33 now, living in the UK for years, and it’s the first time I’m really feeling the crunch of a global economic moment. I hear about recession fears on the news every morning when I make coffee for myself and my partner. Inflation is something I’m feeling in my own pocket. Wars everywhere are unpredictable and terrifying. And in the middle of all that, I’m thinking about my readers and what I owe them.

I want TFS to be a place where you can take a break from all that, where you can laugh and think and feel. I want to make sure that when you come here, you’re met with the warmth, humor, and radical gentleness we all deserve. I want to keep the newsletter low stakes and fun.

Most of all, I want you to be okay. If you’re participating in this society, you’re likely not that anonymous. You’re likely not that powerful. And in the face of everything, we need to be thoughtful about the way we carve up our little corners of the internet. I want that corner, that little garden if you will, to be accessible.

I love you all so much. Please enjoy my favorite cat who’s always on the verge of getting mushy.

But the good news (and dubious literary devices) continue!

You know the sound of a canon being fired? Well, I’m not sure how to convey that through text so I’m just gonna say it: this is the sound of the canon being fired.

✨ THAT FINAL SCENE IS LOOKING FOR ITS FIRST EVER CANNES FILM FESTIVAL CORRESPONDENT ✨

I’ve long wanted to be able to invest in indie writers more meaningfully, and while I’d love to be able to hire a full-time team, here’s what I can modestly offer right now: I want you to represent TFS at the festival. After all, the whole point was always to get to a place where we could do cool shit like this.

Now to the important bits…

okay but is this a paid gig?

Yes! Very important. I would never ask anyone to work for free, which is something I feel quite strongly about. Good writing deserves to be honored, so that’s what I’m doing.

Worth noting that the generous support of my paid subscribers over the last few months has made this possible, and I want to take that support and invest it back into what you read on TFS. So this gig IS funded by the community, for the community, and I’m really proud of that!

do I need my festival pass already?

Unfortunately, also yes, I can’t sort that for you given the festival’s only a few weeks away and that I’ve only just been able to unlock the economics here. This has to be someone who is already going to be there, with their pass sorted (or if you’re a movie star who can work your magic to help someone else out, that works too).

so, who and what are you looking for?

Someone who is funny and smart, who has a real point of view, and who writes like…well, a bit differently. Originality and weirdness are key here — me and my readers will want to be surprised! I want someone who is going to find new ways to talk about these films that no one else would think to. I’m also open to see what people do with a more experimental nature of the piece, the chance to play with form, whether that’s a festival reflection or something else entirely. Ideally, I want someone who thinks outside the box and puts their whole heart into everything, and I know exactly who that is (hint: it could be you!).

Btw: You don’t have to be an established critic by any means.

and what will i be doing?

You’ll be writing one guest piece for That Final Scene at around 2000 words in the newsletter’s spirit. Yes, you’ll be able to plug your own work!

when’s the deadline?

Please send me your pitches by May 3rd.

how do i apply?

Email sophie@thatfinalscene.com with a note about yourself, some samples of your work and the Cannes films you’re most excited to catch.

If someone comes to mind the second you read this, send it to them 💌

And if that person is you — please get in touch.

If you want in on the action, upgrade your TFS subscription today. Not only will you get exclusive writing from me in your inbox, you’ll also get to fund more brilliant and crazy initiatives like this as we cook up our next plans for film festival world domination 🥰

Now sit down and let me tell you why The Wire has rewired so many people’s brains…

REALITY CHECK

From Calypso35 Films:

The Wire changed how I see the world. Most prestige TV trains you to follow characters. Their choices, their growth, their flaws. The Wire trains you to follow the system. How institutions shape the people inside them. How outcomes get produced by structures no single person controls.

Once you start seeing it that way, the world stops looking like a collection of dramas. It starts looking like a machine with interlocking parts, all running on the same logic. The corners, the precinct, city hall, the schools. Different settings. Same operating system.

My take:

Michael, thank you for sending this in. It’s a bit of an odd question given the subject matter, but do you remember when you first saw The Wire? I was already a teenager, but it felt like a show that existed before my time and, in some ways, a show that could only exist before my time.