The Squandered Promise of Chet Hanks’s White-Boy Summer | The New Yorker

In an Instagram story posted this past Thursday, Hanks is seen walking on the beach. “You don’t know what’s gonna hit you. You’re not ready,” he says with a cackle, thrusting the front of his T-shirt, bearing the white-boy summer logo, toward the camera. Though I presumed Hanks was referring to a forthcoming white-boy summer “movie,” which he has said he was filming, the story made me uneasy. Hanks’s muscular frame, his shirt logo’s typeface, his laugh—all of these struck me as more forbidding than they might have initially seemed. Perhaps, in the end, we weren’t nearly as ready for white-boy summer as we might have wanted to be.

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