Movies

Call Her Alex

BBG News

In the third captivating episode of “Call Her Daddy”, co-hosts Alexandra Cooper and Sofia Franklyn offered various intriguing suggestions. They advised a male listener to keep tabs on his crush using Snapchat, suggested that a woman could keep her sugar daddy secret from her boyfriend, and even planned to market soiled Coachella shoes to foot fetish enthusiasts. However, the segment that truly stood out, posted on Oct 3, 2018, was Cooper’s animated and explicit explanation of the renowned oral sex technique called “Gluck Gluck 9000”. Fast forward six years and three days, Cooper welcomed Kamala Harris – then Vice President of the United States and a Democratic presidential candidate – to discuss mental health, reproductive rights following the overturning of Roe, and the economic difficulties faced by young people on her podcast.

How did the initially explicit “Call Her Daddy” podcast, which started out chronicling the sexual adventures of two 20-something roommates on the Lower East Side, transform into the mainstream phenomenon it is today? The key to this transformation lies in the widespread appeal of Alex Cooper’s and Sofia Franklyn’s uncensored humor. This appeal grew rapidly, reaching millions, thanks to partnerships with Barstool Sports, Spotify, and most recently, a three-year contract with Sirius XM worth an estimated $125 million. To truly comprehend the expansion of the show into a media empire, one must understand Cooper’s true character. The Hulu documentary “Call Her Alex” presumably aims to provide this insight. However, in its two brief episodes (released as a series rather than a full-length film, possibly due to marketing strategies), it serves more as a promotional tool for Cooper’s brand rather than a genuine portrait of the podcaster.

In the hands of director Ry Russo-Young (known for “Nuclear Family” and “And Just Like That”) and produced by Cooper’s company Unwell, “Call Her Alex” follows a familiar pattern in 21st century celebrity documentaries, bordering on cliche. The film includes behind-the-scenes glimpses of Cooper preparing for her first tour, aiming to make it more thrilling than the live performances common among podcasters. This is interwoven with a roughly sequential account of her past. As the concert’s problematic rehearsals unfold, tension mounts, as Cooper strives to give her dedicated fanbase, known as the Daddy Gang, an unforgettable experience. Facing seemingly insurmountable pressure, Cooper finds solace in her steadfast husband and business partner, Matt Kaplan, who is idolized by the Daddy Gang (some fans even carry large cutouts of his face). True to form, last-minute crises pave the way for an undeniably triumphant opening night.

In the biographical sections, there’s a noticeable evasiveness, which seems unusual given Cooper’s reputation for openness and embracing messiness. Instead of delving into uncomfortable topics such as bullying experiences or the impact of her transformation on her personal life and career, she shifts focus to her friendships on the soccer field and video-making with friends. The transition from awkward childhood photos to images of her polished look by college is swift, without discussion about how this change could have influenced her life and work. This omission raises questions about how it may resonate with fans who revere Cooper as “Father Cooper.” One striking inconsistency in the podcast Call Her Daddy, similar to Cosmo and the “female chauvinist pigs” of Y2K pop culture, is its suggestion that female empowerment relies on satisfying male preferences. However, Russo-Young fails to critically examine Cooper’s brand of feminism that she calls “gluck-gluck feminism.

Additionally, the ongoing rift between Cooper and Franklin, a longstanding point of contention among the Daddy Gang, is subtly brushed aside in the documentary. Commentators who were present during the events hint at a deterioration of their personal bond alongside their professional partnership, as they renegotiated their initial modest contract with Barstool – information that may be familiar to some. Cooper remains relatively silent on this matter. Dave Portnoy, the contentious founder of Barstool who was also part of the contract drama, offers vague compliments for Cooper in the documentary, while Franklin is only briefly shown in archival footage. Viewers hoping for insights into the demise of their friendship, a reasonable expectation given the show’s focus on female camaraderie, may find themselves disappointed.

Despite the fact that Cooper is shrewd enough not to release a product without any surprises, there’s been a hint of news swirling around before the series launch. This revolves around the allegations of sexual harassment she makes in the book “Call Her Alex” against a former Boston University soccer coach who has since retired. Cooper’s narrative about a female coach who, according to her, inquired into her personal life, made inappropriate physical contact, and manipulated students through their scholarships—and the university’s supposed failure to address her thoroughly documented complaint—is infuriating. (Boston University has not yet commented on these allegations.) It also adds complexity to Cooper’s recollections of soccer as a safe haven and her decision to establish a career around what is commonly referred to as locker-room talk, although these aspects of the ordeal are largely unexplored. Instead, it presents another opportunity for Cooper to showcase her resilience and determination. “I was so resolved,” she says in a voiceover during her walk across an empty Boston University soccer field, “to find a way where no one could ever silence me again.

In simpler terms, Cooper is undeniably powerful and driven, known for her intelligence, ambition, energy, and dedication. She values herself highly and works tirelessly to achieve her goals. Over the years, her rise to media-mogul status has been evident, as she’s established a range of ventures such as a media company (Trending), a podcast platform (Unwell Network), and an electrolyte drink (Unwell Hydration). The Daddy Gang certainly appreciates this. However, it leaves one wondering who the intended audience for this documentary is supposed to be. Perhaps potential business partners? Watching Call Her Alex, at times, felt like a pitch—an empowered woman whose brand centers around female empowerment.

The marketing aspects tend to overshadow an intriguing and scarce aspect of Cooper’s character that I believe is crucial to her charm, which is her exceptional interpersonal skills. The brief instances where we witness her interactions with fans stand out as some of the documentary’s best moments. During one of her performances, when a fan emotionally shared how ‘Call Her Daddy’ helped her cope with her father’s cancer-related death, Cooper invited her on stage, provided a chair, sat at her feet, held her hand, listened attentively to her story, and responded empathetically to every word. This heartfelt exchange is one of the documentary’s most captivating scenes.

Cooper’s authenticity shines through in every interaction, whether it’s with fans, difficult colleagues, or influential figures like the most powerful woman in U.S. history. Her frequent exclamations of “I f-cking love you” sound heartfelt and genuine. This is likely why her Gen Z audience often refers to her as a big sister figure. However, Cooper is more than just relatable; she’s a comforting yet inspiring figure. Her rags-to-riches journey from ugly duckling to sex goddess has given her an unusual blend of empathy for the everyday woman and the charisma to make a diehard fan of Daddy Gang feel unique. In a world where bullying is common, Cooper plays the role of the people’s Regina George, trading mean-girl tactics for an endless stream of sincere compliments.

Read More

2025-06-10 21:06

Previous post Emily Atack spotted in extreme ’80s makeover in first look at “addictive” returning soapy drama
Next post Candace Cameron Bure Shared Throwback Post With Jennifer Aniston, Danica McKellar And Tons Of Other Sitcom Stars In ‘90s TV Movie, And I’m Bursting With Nostalgia