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Time Magazine
6 hours ago
- Entertainment
- Time Magazine
Breaking Down the Cliffhanger Finale of 'The Hunting Wives'
If you've decided to spend the hot summer days journeying to the heart of Texas by binge-watching all eight episodes of The Hunting Wives, you're not alone. And, if you've made it all the way to the end of the show and have questions about the big finale, you're also not alone. Adapted from May Cobb's novel, Netflix's The Hunting Wives has it all: buried secrets, open-carry guns, bisexual affairs, kidnapped teens, questionable parenting, swinging politicians, and corrupt clergy. The show, which TIME's critic described as 'the wildest, silliest, and soapiest wife show ever made,' is such addictive fun that it's easy to go with the Netflix flow and let the episodes roll. By the time the credits appear on the final episode, though, there may be a few bigger questions to answer. We're here to help. The show starts when Sophie (Brittany Snow), her husband Graham (Evan Jonigkeit), and their young son arrive in the Lone Star State with liberal ideas, a Tesla, and the hope of a new start. Graham is there to start a job working for Jed Banks (Dermot Mulroney), one of the most powerful men in Texas. His socialite wife, Margo (Malin Akerman), quickly takes Sophie under her wing, introducing the wide-eyed waif to her gaggle of girlfriends, including Jill (Katie Lowes), the wife of the megachurch's reverend, and Callie (Jaime Ray Newman), the sheriff's wife. Soon, they have the sober, non-driving, gun-hating, Cambridge girl with a dark past downing tequila shots, doing donuts in the parking lot, shooting a boar, having hot extramarital sex with Margo, and, ominously enough, buying a gun. It's all fun fun fun until a high school girl, Abby (Madison Wolfe) turns up dead in the woods. Turns out that Abby was dating Jill's son, Brad (George Ferrier), and it's revealed that not only did she no longer have her purity ring on, but Sophie's gun is identified as the murder weapon. Despite the clear lack of motive (she didn't even know the girl!), Sophie becomes the prime suspect in the murder. Now shunned by her new friends and her truly terrible husband, Sophie sets out to find the real killer. Along the way, she unearths some of the town's darkest secrets. The Hunting Wives finale brings everything to a head In the last episode, titled 'Sophie's Choice,' the clues and the bodies start piling up, and Sophie, the political PR-turned-girl-detective, realizes that the real killer has been right in front of her the whole time. She just didn't want to see it. The big clue? It all started in the ladies' room. Back to that in a minute. The show did a good job with the build-up, because in Episode 7, the penultimate episode, it felt like the crime had been solved when youth Pastor Pete (Paul Teal) was busted for preying on his flock. He kidnapped one young woman and was behind the disappearance of another missing girl mentioned earlier in the season. He even gave Abby a ride to a party on the night she died and he had her sweater in his car. But though he looked guilty as hell, but he did not kill Abby. The other false lead was Brad's mom, Jill. She openly disliked her son's girlfriend, calling the girl a gold-digger and accusing her of leading her precious boy down a path of fornication and sin. She acted very suspiciously, too, wiping her GPS, changing all her passwords, and furiously cleaning one spot on her car. She was also downright eager to provide Brad with an alibi for the night of the murder, which just so happened to give her an alibi, too. Jill looked even more guilty after Pastor Pete told Sophie that Brad had confided in him that he had gotten his girlfriend pregnant and she had gotten an abortion, despite the difficulty accessing one in Deep Red Pro-Life Texas. Even her own son started to suspect the good pastor's wife when it was revealed that she was one of Abby's last outgoing calls—and she happened to have Abby's phone. Sophie believed Jill found out about the abortion and killed Abby to keep her quiet. However, it's revealed that Jill didn't do it either. Why she wiped her GPS and passwords and what she was doing the night of the murder is unclear, but she didn't kill Abby— and soon wound up dead herself. Her death meant Sophie was cleared of the crime and was finally out of jail. Who really killed Abby? Sophie goes back to her life as best she can, including reconnecting with Margo—and finding out what really happened to Abby. What finally cracks the case for Sophie, though, was an offhand remark Margo made to Sophie in the very first episode of the series. The two women first met when Sophie walked in on Margo in the bathroom, digging through the cabinet looking for a menstrual pad. Sophie offered her a tampon, but Margo explained she couldn't use one of those. That comment came back to haunt her, though, because after a long, lusty round of afternoon delight in the bedroom, Sophie uses Margo's bathroom. She is hunting through the drawers looking for some lotion, when she happens upon a box of tampons. Margo denies having ever said she couldn't use tampons, but Sophie remembers it perfectly. Since Sophie is already on high alert because Margo herself has already betrayed her, and Margo's friends had her jailed, she bolts. The moment she is alone, Sophie researches why someone might not be able to use a tampon, including one spicy little item: 'after having an abortion.' Sophie quickly realizes that her friend-turned-lover has been lying to her. Margo has been having an affair with Brad, Jill's son, and Sophie realizes that it wasn't Abby who had the abortion that Pastor Pete mentioned, but Brad's other girlfriend, Margo. When Margo found out she was pregnant with her teenage boyfriend's baby, she had returned to her own dark past for help. Specifically, Margo née Mandy had gone to her biological father for assistance. As a doctor, he not only terminated Margo's pregnancy (despite Texas state law), but also provided her an alibi, claiming that Margo was with him at her brother's near-death bed on the night of the murder. Sophie gets the doctor to admit he lied and then gets Brad to corroborate the pregnancy story. She then goes to confront Margo about her many crimes. To her credit, Margo quickly admits them all. She explains that when a furious Abby confronted her about the affair, pregnancy, and abortion, Margo grabbed the nearest gun—Sophie's—and killed Abby. She then let Sophie take the fall, because she didn't want to jeopardize her husband's run for governor and wanted the beautiful new life she had built for herself to continue. Unsurprisingly, Sophie is unimpressed with Margo's reasoning. Similarly, when Margo tries to tell her husband the truth about it all, he chucks her out of the house. After all, he had already helped her overcome her past as an escort, given her a life as a rich swinger, and was about to make her the first lady of Texas. While killing an innocent young woman was bad, it seems sleeping with another man was the bridge too far for this relationship. Despite murdering a girl and obstructing justice, Margo is not overly concerned about being jailed. She had gone to talk to her drug-addicted brother Kyle (Michael Aaron Milligan) and he told her to get her head on straight. After all, her sometimes-bestie and sometimes-lover Callie is married to the sheriff and he and the DA have closed the case, blaming Jill for the crime, so Margo has nothing to worry about. Plus, Kyle has decided to take care of Sophie for her. He tries to run Sophie off the road and winds up on the highway in front of her car, threatening her with a gun. That's when Sophie hits the gas, and Kyle dies on the hood of her car. The season ends with Sophie dragging Kyle's body through the woods and to the edge of a cliff, dropping it in the water below. Before his body disappears into the water, though, Sophie accidentally answers his phone. It's Margo. Sophie doesn't say anything and instead just breathes heavily on the line. Margo knows something has gone very wrong and Sophie is undoubtedly really wishing she had stayed in Boston. As Kyle's body goes over the cliff, viewers are left to wonder, is this an actual cliffhanger? Is a second season of this Texas soap opera on its way? It's up to Netflix now.
Newsroom
02-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Newsroom
The author who suffers a Russian wolfhound
I do not love my pets equally. In that scene from Sophie's Choice where Meryl Streep is on the train platform? The cat would be coming home with me and the dog would be boarding the first class carriage bound for the Zone of Interest. My dog Iggy Dogstoyevsky is a Borzoi, a Russian Wolfhound, and they are not a normal dog. Where the average labrador lives to please his master, the Borzoi has an innate, brutal autonomy and wants primarily to do what he likes and so much the better if this torments you into a state of apoplexy. I have trained Iggy. He knows all the commands. He just chooses not to obey any of them ever. Iggy is the product of a breeding programme that began in the 1780s in a palace called Kreznovsky two hundred miles out of Moscow on the outskirts of the Siberian tundra. Here, mad Count Alexei Orlov, the man who had murdered Catherine the Great's husband in a drunken knife fight so that she could take the throne, decided to knuckle down to creating the perfect killing machine. He spliced an Arabian greyhound, a Russian sheepdog and a dollop of Saluki to produce a hound to send out ahead of his vodka-soaked hunting parties. Borzoi (it's Russian for swift) were generally deployed in packs of three; their task was bringing down a timber wolf and deploying their Vadar-like patented death grip to choke the life out of the poor creature. Eventually, once the wolf was dead, the drunk Russians would arrive and celebrate but it was the Borzoi alone who did the deed and ran their own show. No wonder Iggy won't listen to me. Iggy was bred, as Liam Neeson might say, with a particular set of skills. His thick ruff of silken fur is designed to keep the wolf from getting a go at his throat plus it keeps him warm in a bleak boreal snowstorm. Elegant, leggy and aristocratic, he was purpose-built to please a long line of lunatics. Why then did I want him? Looking back, and I say this in all seriousness, I wish I had bought my second choice of dog instead which was a teacup Pomeranian. Iggy was a poor decision on my part, and what really hurts is that this issue is now becoming a problem on the page. My new book The Last Journey (publisher: 'a novel for eight-88 year-olds') is narrated by a cat and located in a world where a fascist government rises to power and makes some very dark choices about the fate of its disenfranchised feline community. Pusskin, the hero of the story, is modelled on my cat, Alexsandr Pusskin. It was a joy to write. Pusskin was the perfect muse. And now his book is done, and I'm working on a follow-up and like an utter fool I have turned to … Iggy. Needless to say I am on struggle street. Iggy is a poor muse for a lead. The book has been torturously slow. It was supposed to be finished months ago – instead I have languished in the early chapters because Iggy refuses to behave on the page. Why would he when he won't behave in real life? And so he's been bumped. The central character is now an Irish Terrier. But now that Iggy has a buddy role instead of carrying the lead, I've begun to notice new things about the real-life Iggy. He's a natural comedian. His lugubrious Russian nature, that wretched expression he deploys as he sprawls about the house, moping on the sofa as if nothing good will ever happen again? Hilarious. His sense of always being up for an adventure? His menacing unpredictability. It all makes him a classic buddy – useful in a literary sense. He is alluringly a creature out of time and context; a great beauty bred by Tsars to stalk palaces and hunt the taiga and he is stuck here in tedious suburbia with me and Pusskin. No wonder he's bonkers. I see now that the problem was never Iggy, it was me. I thought it was a good idea to bring a wolf-annihilating machine capable of reaching speeds of 60 kilometres an hour into a villa in downtown Ponsonby. It was not a good idea. And on that train platform, could I really let him go? Despite his annoying qualities I still love the great galoot. Of course I don't actually want to be rid of him. Mostly. The Last Journey by Stacy (Simon & Schuster, $20.99) is published today, July 2. It's about good old Pusskin the cat and his loving owner, eleven-year-old Lottie. The bond between them is unbreakable – but when the bird population is depleted, cats are made a scapegoat. Keen to protect his cat friends on the cul-de-sac, Pusskin sets off on a journey that will take them to a hidden island at the furthest reaches of the country….
Yahoo
16-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Why this mom's college graduation breakdown went viral
Julie Fohrman knew this day would come. She'd done the college visit tours, coordinated care packages, and mastered the art of FaceTiming from two different dorm rooms. But nothing—and I mean nothing—could have prepared her for the moment she realized her twins, Emma and Noah, would graduate from colleges 1,000 miles apart on the exact same day. The viral TikTok that captured her subsequent breakdown has been viewed millions of times. There's Julie, ugly-crying (in the most relatable way possible) during a FaceTime call with her daughter Emma who's about to receive her diploma from the University of Wisconsin. Meanwhile, ex-husband David is all smiles in person behind her–even though Noah was thousands of miles away walking across the stage at the University of Texas. 'There I was, bawling, and he was laughing, and it actually was pretty funny,' Fohrman, 54, later told 'But it was also awful not to be there. I think a lot of moms will understand.' Boy, do we understand. And not just because we're criers. (Though, same.) Related: Hoda & Jenna get real about the mom guilt we all feel when we miss our kids' events Whether you're raising twins, juggling co-parenting schedules, or managing a blended family across multiple time zones, the crushing reality of not being able to physically split yourself in half hits different for moms. And before anyone @ me about gender stereotypes, let's have a real conversation about who typically carries the emotional labor of milestone planning, memory-making, and yes, the guilt that comes with missing any of it. Look, this dilemma goes way beyond multiple births. Military families? They face it when deployment schedules laugh in the face of dance recitals. Divorced parents negotiate who gets Christmas morning versus Christmas Eve like they're brokering international peace treaties. Step-parents wonder if they should show up to the soccer championship when bio-mom will be there too. And sometimes, even for families who all live under the same roof, work obligations, health crises, or simple geography force these Sophie's Choice moments. Know who nailed this whole impossible-choice thing? Bob's Burgers. (Stay with me here.) In the season 11 episode 'The Plight Before Christmas,' the Belchers face their own scheduling nightmare when Gene's holiday concert, Tina's Thundergirls play, and Louise's poetry reading all fall on the same night. Linda Belcher—arguably one of television's greatest moms, animated or not—initially tries to divide and conquer with Bob. But here's where it gets good: Tina ends up sacrificing her starring role to support Louise, whose 'joke' poetry reading turns out to be a heartfelt ode to Christmas morning with her family. The episode is basically a masterclass in how families actually navigate these moments—not through perfect solutions, but through messy, imperfect love and occasional sacrifice. Plus, Linda's wine consumption. (Relatable content.) Here's the thing about mom guilt: It's not just in your head. Well, it is, but it's also backed by actual research. According to Brené Brown (patron saint of vulnerability), guilt and shame are best friends who love to party together in your brain. Mom guilt starts with 'I'm not spending enough time with my kid' and quickly escalates to 'I'm basically the worst mother in the history of mothers.' Fun fact: A study looked at moms in Sweden, Germany, and Italy—countries with actual maternity leave and parent-friendly policies—and guess what? They still felt guilty. So basically, mom guilt is universal. It's like the Marvel Cinematic Universe, but sadder. Clinical psychologist Dr. Lucia Ciciolla, who researches invisible labor (the fancy term for all the crap moms do that nobody notices), says this type of work typically goes unacknowledged. Shocking, I know. And get this: Researchers at the University of Melbourne define the mental load as cognitive labor (planning and organizing) plus emotional labor (worrying and stressing). So when you're lying awake at 3 a.m. wondering if you ordered the right graduation swag from that Etsy shop, that's your mental load talking. Unlike doing the dishes, which eventually ends, the mental load is like that friend who never knows when to leave the party—it's boundaryless and operates 24/7. Psychotherapist Niro Feliciano breaks it down: 'Simply put, mom guilt is what you feel when you criticize yourself because you didn't live up to an expectation that you set for yourself as a parent.' One mom told her, 'I feel guilty that I couldn't manage my career and a family and I see so many others that do.' Related: 'This is equal custody': Viral video captures heartbreaking co-parenting moment When the impossible choice shows up—and it will, probably next Tuesday—here's how to handle it without completely losing your marbles: Child psychologist Dr. Michelle Young says, 'Reaching out to a good friend or sharing your feelings of guilt with a partner or trusted individual can help remind you that you're not alone.' Translation: Find someone who won't judge you for crying into your wine about missing Jimmy's recorder concert. We all need that friend. Military families are basically the Navy SEALs of handling absence (pun intended). Steal their moves: Create 'milestone boxes' where the absent parent leaves letters, gifts, or video messages. Technology is your bestie here—livestream that graduation like you're a TikTok influencer. Set up multiple camera angles. Make it a production. Your kid might roll their eyes, but they'll secretly love it. Psychologist Renée Goff suggests replacing guilt with 'self-compassion and gentleness.' But what does that actually look like when you're not a yoga instructor with perfect skin? Instead of spiraling into 'I'm a garbage human,' try 'I'm doing my best in an impossible situation.' The difference matters, even if it feels like lying to yourself at first. Fair doesn't mean equal. Sometimes one kid needs you more. Sometimes geography makes the choice for you. Sometimes it's just lousy timing. As psychologist Timothy Legg notes, 'Prioritizing yourself can make you a better parent.' Wild concept: Your kids benefit from seeing you as an actual human with limitations. Whether it's grandma, your best friend, or that professional photographer you found on Instagram, delegating doesn't make you less of a mom. It makes you a smart one. Plus, it gives other people in your kids' lives a chance to step up and be the hero. Let them. Here's where I get ranty. Even in 2025 (2025! We have self-driving cars!), mothers still do most of the invisible work. And I'm not talking about matching socks (though that too). The mental load is like having 47 browser tabs open in your brain at all times.Based on the University of Melbourne research about how mothers carry the cognitive and emotional labor in families, here's what it might look like: While dads might remember to show up to graduation, moms are often the ones who remember to: Order the special graduation lei that matches the school colors Coordinate the restaurant reservation that accommodates cousin Jenny's new vegan phase Buy cards from all the relatives who can't make it Book the hotel room with the view Feel guilty about literally everything The mental load operates invisibly because it is internal labor. How convenient. Julie Fohrman's viral tears weren't just about missing Emma's graduation. They were about the impossible standards we set for ourselves, the lie that good moms never miss anything, and the very real grief that comes with accepting we're not actually superheroes. Here's the truth bomb: Being in two places at once isn't just physically impossible—trying to achieve it is emotionally exhausting. Maybe it's time we stopped treating maternal omnipresence as the gold standard and started celebrating the moms who show their kids that love means making hard choices, that fair isn't always equal, and that even moms are beautifully, messily human. As Fohrman reflected after going viral: 'I think a lot of moms will understand. So many of us are deeply involved in our kids' education and the day-to-day. And it was heartbreaking to miss it.' She's right. We do understand. And maybe that's exactly what our kids need to see—that love isn't measured by perfect attendance records. It's measured by the ugly tears we cry when we can't be there, the villages we frantically assemble to fill our shoes, and the grace we (eventually) learn to give ourselves. Because if we're really preparing our kids for the real world, shouldn't we teach them that sometimes the people who love you most can't always be there? That disappointment is survivable? That their mom is a whole person with limitations and competing responsibilities? In fact, that might be the most important graduation present of all. Way better than another check they'll blow on overpriced textbooks. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go cry about this article while simultaneously coordinating three different soccer practices and wondering if I remembered to pack lunch. You know, just mom things.
Boston Globe
29-04-2025
- Politics
- Boston Globe
Universities being pressed to weigh academic freedom vs. funding
The Republican Party has defended the interests of big business, interested only in profit, while the Democratic Party hasn't done enough to explain how much the government does for us all. Years ago I had an argument with two Republicans who were decrying Obamacare as 'government controlled.' It turned out the man had access to health care through the Department of Veterans Affairs, which he loved, and the woman had state-sponsored health insurance, which she also loved. When I pointed out the contradiction, she shrugged and said, ruefully, 'Well, we're Republicans.' Sad. Get The Gavel A weekly SCOTUS explainer newsletter by columnist Kimberly Atkins Stohr. Enter Email Sign Up Susan Jhirad Advertisement Peabody Holocaust narrative is an outrageous metaphor for universities' conundrum With the publication of Lisa Randall's op-ed Professor Randall's resistance to Donald Trump and her concern that his administration's policies might threaten her cushy circumstances at Harvard are understandable. Under our Constitution, she is free to say what she wants. However, to conflate the decision Harvard might have to make between protecting its pot of federal funds and its unquestioned freedom to control what is said in the classroom with 'Sophie's Choice' is an abomination. Advertisement The novel by William Styron depicts the horrifying and unimaginable choice a Polish woman is forced to make at Auschwitz as to which of her two young children would die in the gas chamber and which would go on living in the concentration camp. That Randall equates a university's conundrum with such a narrative is outrageous and overshadows whatever argument she tries to make about academic freedom. David Askin Methuen
