The perfect song by The Cure to match Pedro Pascal’s best roles
Like many of us, Pedro Pascal is completely and utterly obsessed with The Cure. It’s his favourite band, which is a lot considering he once said he was raised on “HBO, Spielberg, and Prince”.
But beneath Pascal’s deep-seated love for the Purple One was a lingering fascination with all the things that make us human; a soul bond with Robert Smith that understood that to be beautiful was to let it all in, the good, the bad and the ugly. To experience life and its gorgeous flourishes was to know that it wasn’t always about lingering at the top, but discovering who you were when you were at the bottom.
When you strip it all back and look at all the reasons Smith (and Pascal, to an extent) excelled in his field, it was because he had this understanding deeply etched into his heart and mind. He sought to bring that kind of authenticity to his music, not so much for the surface-level aesthetic of gothic wave but to explore all the facets of existence, bringing it all together in a swirling (and oftentimes overwhelming) kaleidoscope of dimly-lit technicolour.
For this reason, it’s not all that hard to pin The Cure songs to many of Pascal’s roles, especially considering the layers to the songs themselves and how Pascal’s characters are also complicated reflections of humanity’s best qualities but also its biggest downfall – often a navigation of the hero against the world, or battling with one’s own central narrative against the thoughts, feelings, emotions and even memories of others.
Or those characters who have moments where reality feels like pushing your ear up against the wall, straining yourself to figure out something you might’ve forgotten to listen to with the utmost mental clarity along the way. Or a memory that you’re not even sure holds the same meaning anymore, because time has dusted your consciousness with a different kind of glaze from years of loss and heartache. The fragile protector versus the disillusioned found family man. The burdened martyr versus the swashbuckling comrade.
The Cure songs for Pedro Pascal’s best roles:
Javier Peña (Narcos) – ‘Lullaby’
As the morally conflicted Javier Peña, Pascal continued to establish his name as one of the more desirable members of the new acting community. Narcos became a huge hit on Netflix and, in addition to producing countless memes, provided one of Pascal’s best roles to date.
While still undeniably cool, Peña is burdened by the consequences of the world around him. He is harmed by the continued loss of innocence and his country, and it feels fitting that his proposed favourite song by The Cure be an equally paranoid yet slinky track.
‘Lullaby’ matches the hopeful Peña and the genuine threat lurking around every corner in Narcos. Smooth and stylish but deadly, it feels like a classic for the Medellin agent.
Oberyn Martell (Game of Thrones) – ‘Hot Hot Hot!!!’
The first real introduction of Pedro Pascal into our collective consciousness was as the dazzling figure of Oberyn Martell in Game of Thrones, the dazzling swordsmith who meets a sticky end at the hand of The Mountain. But before that gruesome moment arrives, Martell is a funky and flirtatious breath of fresh air.
As such, it’s important that his favourite song by The Cure reflects such a swashbuckling icon. ‘Hot Hot Hot!!!’ might not be the first song you think of when considering The Cure’s murky depths, but the shimmying panache of the bassline does enough to convince us we could see Martell shaking his thing to the 1987 track.
Playful and dangerous in equal measures, it’s a perfect encapsulation of the moment Pascal officially blew up.
Frankie (The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent) – ‘In Between Days’
Standing toe-to-toe with Nicolas Cage in a movie was perhaps nearing the pinnacle of Pedro Pascal’s career when he took on the role of Frankie in The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent. But what’s most impressive is that Pascal’s hopeful, melancholic, obsessive is both the only part of the movie you desperately want to watch again and, despite being wildly problematic, incredibly endearing.
The doe-eyed man’s favourite song by The Cure would need to mirror the intense nostalgia and genuine love he feels for Nic Cage. A romantic and a fanboy in equal measure, it makes total sense that ‘Inbetween Days’ would scratch his particular itch.
Equal parts sweet sadness and upbeat bounce, the emotionally fragrant track would provide a welcome relief and the perfect soundtrack for his days spent cuddling a pic of the star in his car.
Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) – ‘Pictures of You’
Pascal isn’t a stranger to the more stoic roles, which is often one of the more disarming parts of his filmography, especially when considering the stark contrast of his demeanour in interviews.
But something about Din Djarin in particular calls for The Cure’s melancholic atmosphere, especially in the beginning, when it’s clear there’s an abundance of deep thoughts, feelings and reasons for the kind of stoicism Smith constantly navigates in his songs about self-discovery.
‘Pictures of You’ might seem a bit of a left-field choice, but with its themes about searching for something lost, especially when that something once had such a firm grip on your heart (and likely still does), it feels especially poignant for a certain Mandalorian favourite. Maybe it’s the natural atmosphere it evokes or the charm of the wallow, but it somehow feels entirely fitting.
Joel Miller (The Last of Us) – ‘A Forest’
Aside from the literal feeling evoked by ‘A Forest’, namely the way it feels simultaneously like hiding and running away, there’s something hidden deeper in the crevices of Smith’s words that feel especially true for our beloved father figure Joel Miller and the way he operated with a sort of quiet focus, even when no one else understood it. Well, except Ellie, but even then, it took her a while to get used to his standoffish mannerisms.
‘A Forest’ isn’t just a driving beat, it’s an omen; a movement that shifts with echoed paranoia (“I hear her voice / Calling my name / The sound is deep / In the dark”). It’s the ghost of all things lost versus the constant fight to keep a clear head or clear vision when it comes to what matters – the fight of matters of the heart versus survival, figurative for The Cure but literal for Miller.
