Be Cool (review)
I can’t be cool like Chili Palmer, and neither can you. No one can, so don’t even try. Chili doesn’t just embody cool — he *defines* cool. He’s so cool, in other words, that he can take something uncool and make it cool just by deigning to be associated with it. Like *Be Cool* — though I hasten to add that I’m not suggesting that *Be Cool* is anything other than cool from the get-go. It’s a Hollywood paradox: *Be Cool* is cool because it’s about Chili, but it wouldn’t be about Chili if Chili deemed it beneath his notice — if there was no possibility of cool to be found in it, then Chili would have nothing to do with it. There’s a Nobel Prize to be had in the exploration of this kind of pop-culture quantum physics, if only Stockholm cared about the *important* stuff.
