This week:
- The celebrity divorce that rocked the world.
- It’s fall movie season.
- Carol Burnett, forever an icon.
- Amy Poehler and Kristen Wiig’s perfect life advice.
- Random clip of the week.
So, Is Love Dead?
I received more texts from friends and family about Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban divorcing than I did when my ex and I broke up.
I wish I was exaggerating because it makes for a funny lede to this piece, but alas…
There seems to be a societal mourning over the news that the two celebs, who had been married for 19 years, are calling it quits; according to TMZ reports, Urban wanted the separation, Kidman wanted to try to make it work, and ultimately Kidman filed for divorce.
We tend to operate in two modes when news like this happens about The Famouses.
There’s the three S’s: scream in shock, then shrug—a pinprick of surprise that we have an instant emotional reaction to, before moving on with our lives because we do not know these people. And then there is the rare case where it feels personal; the instances where, whether we were aware of it or not, we invested in the relationship.
Something about Kidman and Urban’s coupling and how it was presented to us publicly imprinted on us.
Their presence together on red carpets and on magazine covers isn’t just celebrity worship; it’s a symbol of stability, of comfort, of peace. You walk past a pub that has Access Hollywood on in the background and there’s footage of them at an award show, you happen to glance at the magazine rack at CVS and they’re on the new Us Weekly, and you just think “yep” and move on with the chaos of the rest of your day because, well, at least that one thing seems right.
It is absolutely insane that I am typing those words when referencing the marriage of the star of Moulin Rouge and a country singer with an abomination of a haircut. But things can be ludicrous and real at the same time. Part of why this news registers on the Richter scale is because we don’t want to admit how much we evidently cared.
The interest in their coupling is a fascinating one, because of the attention their relationship did and also did not receive.
Nicole Kidman had what is possibly one of the most high-profile divorces of any celebrity.
She is a breakup meme: that image of her in the middle of the street with her arms in the air after her divorce from Tom Cruise is, decades later, still a symbol representing anyone who got themselves out of a bad thing right on time to triumph. And she played it perfectly. “Well, I can wear heels now” is the epitome of celebrity class; she knew the breakup is all anyone wanted to hear talk about, and she said something just cheeky enough to make everyone cackle without being classless or too petty.
Nicole Kidman has the chance to dig deep in her many closets and take the funniest picture of all-time. pic.twitter.com/a6MQiqHblx
— youth code orange (@thamosdeaf) October 1, 2025
Her marriage to Urban, in comparison, was a whisper against a blaring siren. I think it’s because they were so normal about it. That is to say they weren’t in your face and yet they weren’t secretive.
If you’re obsessed with pop culture as I am, then you know they had struggles, including when Urban went to rehab. They also just frankly talked about it when asked, like a regular person would. It brought their Big Glamorous Celebrity Relationship down to earth, just like their regular support of each other at their respective events, red carpets, and award shows did. They said lovely things about each other in speeches and in the press. Everything just seemed so grounded.
Especially in the context of the current time, when relationships become press tours and the societal fixation on it becomes so intense and, frankly, weird that we now all know what the word “parasocial” means, their partnership seemed pure and unfussy. I know that seems hypocritical given the fact that I have just typed hundreds of words examining our preoccupation with them, but that is just for the sake of this piece. It’s a situation where we didn’t care until we had to.
I do think it’s fun to be goofily invested in celebrities’ personal lives. What would be the point of having celebrities if we couldn’t act like juvenile plebeians enamored with the lives of the rich and famous? Yet that’s what makes this seem different. They didn’t feel like they were a part of that exercise in idolatry. We love that saying, “Stars, they’re just like us.” We just get a little sad when that ends up being true.
Movies Are Back, Y’all
Oh, I love to be corny.
So you can imagine my bliss as I would leave the movie theater in Manhattan’s Lincoln Center this week, where the New York Film Festival was taking place, high off of feeling things after a movie screening, and stepping into a crisp New York street just as Sweater Weather finally arrived.
Just call me Meg Ryan and give me a bookstore to run.
It’s impossible to see everything during a festival like this, but I saw some things I’m very excited about.
Julia Roberts is in peak Oh, This Is What a Movie Star Is form, acting her a– off in the new movie After the Hunt, which I loved because of how much it will annoy people by not answering any of the huge, prickly questions it raises. Remember when we used to debate about movies?
George Clooney stars in Jay Kelly, which—speaking of Nicole Kidman—is basically the “heartbreak feels good in a place like this” AMC commercial, but as a full film. It’s the kind of navel gazing, masturbatory Hollywood movie that only works because Clooney is in it and is doing such a good Clooney turn in this, the kind of thing you really want from Clooney. (Also, it features my favorite Adam Sandler performance…ever?)
Sentimental Value is the movie that any cinephile with taste is going to tell you to see when you ask them “what’s good this year?” I don’t want to describe it, because when you do it seems like something most people would never want to watch. But it’s so, so good. And everyone needs to see A House of Dynamite, because we need taut, timely thrillers like this to continue to be made—and because we need Rebecca Ferguson to become as big of a star as possible.
I would like everyone to donate to the respective Best Actor and Best Actress Oscar campaigns for Wagner Moura in The Secret Agent and Rose Byrne in If I Had Legs I’d Kick You.
And in my utopia, Ira Sachs’ latest film, Peter Hujar’s Day, in which you spend 80 minutes or so staring at Ben Whishaw and Rebecca Hall just being so goddamned beautiful, would be the cinematic event of the year.
My New Catchphrase
It should be every American’s civic duty to read this fantastic profile of Carol Burnett that was published this week in The New Yorker.
But I would like to especially point people to this anecdote:
Oh, you can be 100 percent sure that “well I’ve been on the road with Mame” has left my lips in no less than five conversations this week, and will continue to be used by myself and every other gay in New York City for at least the next year.
My Lifestyle, Summed Up in One Clip
I have never felt validated as deeply and as beautifully as I did watching this clip from Amy Poehler’s interview with Kristen Wiig on her Good Hang podcast, in which they wax poetic on the ideal dinner time of 6 pm, being in bed at 9:30 pm, and asleep by 11.
@fanclub.goodhangwith Rock Shows vs. Bedtime: Why I’m an Early Bird Now! #goodhangwithamy #amypoehler #podcast #kristenwiig #foryoupage ♬ original sound – GoodHang FANCLUB
The Truth Is Out There—and Hot as Hell
I do not know why my social media timeline inexplicably surfaced—I am not exaggerating—95 different posts of Gillian Anderson walking in L’Oreal’s Paris Fashion Week runway show. But I am also not about it.
and in the end gillian baddie anderson always wins you see pic.twitter.com/isIXH3EFiC
— amy (@scullysfoxes) September 29, 2025
More From The Daily Beast’s Obsessed
Meet the star of this weekend’s big new horror movie. Also, it’s a dog. Read more.
I am rarely shocked by events on Real Housewives anymore. But this one got me. Read more.
Has The Morning Show lost the plot? Read more.
What to watch this week:
Good Boy: A haunted house movie entirely from the perspective of a dog. (Now in theaters)
V/H/S/ Halloween: We’ve found the perfect Halloween sleepover movie for you. (Now on Shudder)
Saturday Night Live: The season premiere is hosted by Bad Bunny, who has barely been in the news this week. (Sat. on NBC)
What to skip this week:
The Smashing Machine: The Rock’s eventual Oscar win is going to have to wait. (Now in theaters)
Play Dirty: Mark Wahlberg needs to play with a better agent. (Now on Prime Video)
The post Why Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban’s Breakup Is So Devastating appeared first on The Daily Beast.
