Culture recs: A timely tech satire from Succession creator Jesse Armstrong, plus... quilts!

In Mountainhead, four Silicon Valley bros congratulate themselves while the world burns.

Cory Michael Smith, Steve Carell, Ramy Youssef, and Jason Schwartzman in Mountainhead on HBO. Photograph by Fred Hayes/HBO

📺 Mountainhead (HBO, May 31)

Written and directed by Succession creator Jesse Armstrong, who knows a thing or two about lampooning the ultrawealthy, this scathing satire follows four noxious tech bros who gather at an alpine mega-mansion for some manly bonding— as a global crisis unfolds due to one of their apps. There’s Venis (Cory Michael Smith; yes, like penis with a V), who is the founder of a social networking site and is also the richest man in the world; AI entrepreneur Jeff (Ramy Roussef); elder statesman/venture capitalist Randy (Steve Carell); and Hugo (Jason Schwartzmann), a meditation app developer who is nicknamed Soups — as in “soup kitchen” — because he’s worth a paltry $500 million.

The timing of their hang sesh is less than ideal: Traam has just launched what Venis describes as “new content tools that are going to make the printing press look like pre cum.” (He is the Roman Roy of the film.) Venis turns out to be correct, though not in the way he anticipated: the tools allow a flood of racist fake news to go unchecked on the platform, leading to mob violence around the world. As the crisis mounts, the moguls scramble to figure out how to contain the damage without giving in to regulation or sacrificing their net worth — like the true sociopaths they are.

If this all sounds incredibly current, given the oligarchy we’re living under, that’s because it is: Armstrong wrote the script in January and filmed it over a few weeks this spring. A word of warning: the characters speak in a florid Silicon Valley patois. I recommend watching with the subtitles on, so you can at least try to understand what they’re saying and how they’re being ridiculed.

---

📺 The Quilters (now streaming on Netflix)

If you’ve got a half hour to spare and want to feel (slightly) better about the world, fire up this lovely little documentary on Netflix. Director Jennifer McShane follows a group of incarcerated men at a maximum security prison in Licking, Missouri who spend much of their waking hours sewing custom-made birthday quilts for foster children in the county. Because of the sharp tools they use to cut fabric, the men must have blemish-free records from inside to participate in the restorative justice program. For them, it is worth it: quilting is a much-needed mental escape, a way of connecting to the outside world.

“Most of the people that’s in here messed up bad. They’re looking for — how would you say? — a purpose,” says Ricky, who is known for his deep knowledge of the craft. (Chill, a fellow quilter, calls him “sensei.”)

McShane makes the conscious decision to define these men by their creative output, not the crimes that landed them in prison. Each has a distinctive style and approach to their craft: Fred is all about bold colors. Jimmy is drawn to geometric stars. Rod has an eye for fabrics. Chill loves butterfly prints. They take enormous pride in the work, and some become obsessed with getting everything just right.

The quilts are their way of giving back — and, perhaps, finding a modicum of redemption. For Ricky, who has been in prison for nearly 40 years, it’s helped him forgive himself. “Most guys can’t forgive their selves, so that’s why they can’t change, cause that demon’s still in them,” he says.

The Quilters is both a celebration of a painstaking, time-consuming handicraft and a poignant look at the rehabilitative power of art. My only complaint is that, with a running time of 31 minutes, the documentary leaves you wanting more.

---

📰 “Patti Lupone is done with Broadway — and almost everything else” (The New Yorker)

To wrap things up this week, I recommend this juicy profile of Patti LuPone, written by Michael Schulman, who has carved out a niche as a deft chronicler of self-immolating celebrities. A certain corner of the internet has been buzzing about this dishy portrait of the Broadway diva since it was published earlier this week. Schulman follows LuPone as she darts around Manhattan, in search of an elusive glass of sherry, while complaining about an array of things, including her ex, Kevin Kline; the treatment she received when she was starring in Evita over forty years ago; and even the jumbotron at Madison Square Garden. The piece, in which she also disses fellow Broadway stars Kecia Lewis and Audra McDonald, has sparked a wave of other stories, as well as a contentious debate: is LuPone just an old-fashioned salty broad who calls it as she sees it? Or is she actually kind of a jerk? You be the judge.

Meredith Blake is the Culture columnist for The Contrarian