Man

Call it an accident, call it the plan. But don’t stoop to the reprehensible gaslighting of calling it a lie: It is fact that federal agents have detained and arrested dozens, if not hundreds, of United States citizens as part of immigration sweeps, regardless of what Kristi Noem would like us to believe.

During a congressional hearing Thursday, Noem, our secretary of Homeland Security and self-appointed Cruelty Barbie, reiterated her oft-used and patently false line that only the worst of the worst are being targeted by immigration authorities. That comes after weeks of her department posting online, on its ever-more far-right social media accounts, that claims of American citizens being rounded up and held incommunicado are “fake news” or a “hoax.”

“Stop fear-mongering. ICE does NOT arrest or deport U.S. citizens,” Homeland Security recently posted on the former Twitter.

Tuesday, at a different congressional hearing, a handful of citizens — including two Californians — told their stories of being grabbed by faceless masked men and being whisked away to holding cells where they were denied access to phones, lawyers, medications and a variety of other legal rights.

Their testimony accompanied the release of a congressional report by the Senate’s Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations in which 22 American citizens, including a dozen from the Golden State, told their own shocking, terrifying tales of manhandling and detentions by what can only be described as secret police — armed agents who wouldn’t identify themselves and often seemed to lack basic training required for safe urban policing.

These stories and the courageous Americans who are stepping forward to tell them are history in the making — a history I hope we regret but not forget.

Immigration enforcement, boosted by unprecedented amounts of funding, is about to ramp up even more. Noem and her agents are reveling in impunity, attempting to erase and rewrite reality as they go — while our Supreme Court crushes precedent and common sense to further empower this presidency. Until the midterms, there is little hope of any check on power.

Under those circumstances, for these folks to put their stories on the record is both an act of bravery and patriotism, because they now know better than most what it means to have the chaotic brutality of this administration focused on them. It’s incumbent upon the rest of us to hear them, and protest peacefully not only rights being trampled, but our government demanding we believe lies.

“I’ve always said that immigrants who are given the great privilege of becoming citizens are also some of the most patriotic people in this country. I know you all love your country. I love our country, and this is not the America that we believe in or that we fought so hard for. Every person, every U.S. citizen, has rights,” Rep. Robert Garcia (D-Long Beach) said as the hearing began.

L.A. native Andrea Velez, whose detention was reported on by my colleagues when it happened, was one of those putting herself on the line to testify.

Less than 5 feet tall, Velez is a graduate of Cal Poly Pomona who was working in the garment district in June when ICE began its raids. Her mom and teenage sister had just dropped her off when masked men swarmed out of unmarked cars and began chasing brown people. Velez didn’t know what was happening, but when one man charged her, she held up her work bag in defense. The bag did not protect her. Neither did her telling the agents she is a U.S. citizen.

“He handcuffed me without checking my ID. They ignored me as I repeated it again and again that I am a U.S. citizen,” she told committee members. “They did not care.”

Velez, still unsure who the man was who forced her into an SUV, managed to open the door and run to an LAPD officer, begging for help. But when the masked man noticed she was loose, he “ran up screaming, ‘She’s mine’” the congressional report says.

The police officer sent her back to the unmarked car, beginning a 48-hour ordeal that ended with her being charged with assault of a federal officer — charges eventually dropped after her lawyer demanded body camera footage and alleged witness statements. (The minority staff report was released by Rep. Richard Blumenthal of Connecticut, the highest-ranking Democrat on the Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations.)

“I never imagined this would be occurring, here, in America,” Velez told lawmakers. “DHS likes … to brand us as criminals, stripping us of our dignity. They want to paint us as the worst of the worst, but the truth is, we are human beings with no criminal record.”

This if-you’re-brown-you’re-going-down tactic is likely to become more common because it is now legal.

In Noem vs. Vasquez Perdomo, a September court decision, Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh wrote that it was reasonable for officers to stop people who looked foreign and were engaged in activities associated with undocumented people — such as soliciting work at a Home Depot or attending a Spanish-language event, as long as authorities “promptly” let the person go if they prove citizenship. These are now known as “Kavanaugh stops.”

Disregarding how racist and problematic that policy is, “promptly” seems to be up for debate.

Javier Ramirez, born in San Bernardino, testified as “a proud American citizen who has never known the weight of a criminal record.”

He’s a father of three who was working at his car lot in June when he noticed a strange SUV idling on his private property with a bunch of men inside. When he approached, they jumped out, armed with assault weapons, and grabbed him.

“This was a terrifying situation,” Ramirez said. But then it got worse.

One of the men yelled, “Get him. He’s Mexican!”

On video shot by a bystander, Javier can be heard shouting, “I have my passport!” according to the congressional report, but the agents didn’t care. When Ramirez asked why they were holding him, an agent told him, “We’re trying to figure that out.”

Like Velez, Ramirez was put in detention. A severe diabetic, he was denied medication until he became seriously ill, he told investigators. Though he asked for a lawyer, he was not allowed to contact one — but the interrogation continued.

After his release, five days later, he had to seek further medical treatment. He, too, was charged with assault of a federal agent, along with obstruction and resisting arrest. The bogus charges were also later dropped.

“I should not have to live in fear of being targeted simply for the color of my skin or the other language I speak,” he told the committee. “I share my story not just for myself, but for everyone who has been unjustly treated, for those whose voice has been silenced.”

You know the poem, folks. It starts when “they came” for the vulnerable. Thankfully, though people such as Ramirez and Velez may be vulnerable due to their pigmentation, they are not meek and they won’t be silenced. Our democracy, our safety as a nation of laws, depends on not just hearing their stories, but also standing peacefully against such abuses of power.

Because these abuses only end when the people decide they’ve had enough — not just of the lawlessness, but of the lies that empower it.

Skinner’s reminder of Lyon’s ability cannot be ignored as they boasted a side including 2018 Ballon d’Or winner Ada Hegerberg and USA World Cup winner Lindsey Heaps.

Legendary France centre-back Wendie Renard was an unused substitute and elite players such as Lily Yohannes, Kadidiatou Diani and Marie-Antoinette Katoto all came on in the second half.

That quality and the “speed and physicality” were the differences on the night, according to Skinner, but he also recognised the gap between United and Europe’s elite.

“Theirs is the upper echelon of that,” added Skinner. “They pay for it. They have grown in experience and have built that team over a long period of time.

“The reality is you have to be at your game in every moment because if not, they can take their opportunities. They were the better team – but I would expect them to be.

“It’s a juxtaposition because I don’t want to lose games. But we also have to take a moment and go, we’ve already qualified, let’s see where we go.

“All the things you see, I see. I also know what the fix is, but you can’t do it in one moment, you have to build it. We are progressing.”

Lyon boss Jonatan Giraldez described United’s season as “super positive” and said the answer to progress is about building a mentality to be better than the day before.

United’s challenge will only get greater as they look to continue their journey in the Champions League.

They currently sit ninth in the 18-team league table and occupying an unseeded position for the play-offs.

If they can climb at least one place, they will be seeded and avoid stronger opposition.

Skinner said that gives them more incentive to perform in their final league phase match against sixth-placed Juventus on 17 December – but just getting to this stage has been an achievement.

“When you go into the knockout stages, it is what it is. You have to play the best teams,” he added.

“We go [to Juventus] with confidence to try to win the game and see what happens. Our objective was always to qualify and we have done that. Where we finish is a bonus.”

We were well into our journey from Los Angeles to Chicago, surrounded by cornfields and grain elevators, when the train halted and a voice rang out.

“All right, folks,” said a man on the PA system. “We’ve come to a stop in what appears to be the middle of nowhere.”

To a traveler in a hurry, this is the stuff of nightmares. To a seasoned passenger on the L.A.-Chicago train known as Amtrak’s Southwest Chief, it’s just another day.

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When you board an American long-distance train in 2025, you are trading the airport routine for entry into a locomotive-driven realm where there is neither TSA nor WiFi. And AI might as well stand for aged infrastructure.

There will be delays, often because of passing freight trains. But in the bargain, you are freeing yourself from worry about aerodynamics or the chronic shortage of U.S. air traffic controllers and gaining access to ground-level scenery and idle hours.

You’re also joining a modest trend. Even before this fall’s bout of flight cancellations during the government shutdown, Amtrak had set records for passengers and revenue in fiscal 2024, then again in 2025. Ridership on the Southwest Chief rose 12.6% in the last year. Amtrak’s long-distance trains haven’t caught up with their pre-pandemic numbers yet, but we seem to like them a little more lately.

Passengers board the Southwest Chief at Los Angeles Union Station.

(Christopher Reynolds / Los Angeles Times)

To learn why, I boarded the Southwest Chief at Los Angeles Union Station on a recent Monday afternoon. I was ready to see a few desert sunsets from the Sightseer Lounge and hear what people say when they have the time to chat with a stranger IRL.

Before long, I had been party to conversations about fear of flying, doctors in Tijuana, how to make beef jerky and how to sleep in a moving metal box. I’d also heard these sentences:

• “I like watching the country go by. I draw and I paint,” said passenger Nancy Roeder.
• “I’m a fourth-generation model railroader,” said William Angus.
• “I’m not going to lie to you. I took his life.”

This last comment came from a fellow traveler, ruefully disclosing an act of self-defense many years ago. No proof was offered, but I believed it. I also found the teller of the story (whom I won’t name) to be good company, thoughtful and generous.

In other words, on a two-day train, you meet people and hear things that you might not on a four-hour flight.

What Paul Theroux wrote 50 years ago in “The Great Railway Bazaar” is still true: “Anything is possible on a train: a great meal, a binge, a visit from card players, an intrigue, a good night’s sleep, and strangers’ monologues framed like Russian short stories.”

Flagstaff by dawn

Passengers relax in the Sightseer Lounge on Amtrak’s Southwest Chief.

(Christopher Reynolds / Los Angeles Times)

There’s one Southwest Chief departure from Los Angeles every day (and one from Chicago). If everything goes right, the 2,265-mile, 32-stop trip takes about 43 hours.

But only a rookie would count on that. About 60% of the time, the Southwest Chief arrives at least 15 minutes late.

For much of its route through Arizona, the route is flanked by old Route 66 and other lonely desert roads.

(Christopher Reynolds / Los Angeles Times)

Back in 1936, when the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe Railway introduced Southwest Super Chief service between Los Angeles and Chicago, this was a roughly 40-hour journey. The passenger list included plenty of show-biz people and the first stop was in Pasadena.

Nowadays, the Southwest Chief is run by Amtrak (which gets government funding but operates independently enough to be unaffected by recent government shutdowns). There are not so many show-biz people now, not as many frills. Instead of Pasadena, its first stop after Los Angeles is Fullerton, followed by a bend to the northeast. By the time I arrived in the dining car for my first dinner aboard, we were nearing Barstow.

“This way, young man,” lied the server winningly as he steered me to a table. (I am 65. In the dining car, every traveler, no matter how aged, gets greeted as a young man or young lady.)

Since booths hold four people, dining car stewards like Chuck Jones manage the delicate task of putting travelers together. Through PA announcements and whispers in the aisles, he encouraged us to introduce ourselves and keep phones off tables.

He also suggested we steer clear of politics — a tall order when traveling through a government shutdown from a city the president had just called “lawless” to one he had just called “the worst and most dangerous city in the world.”

Surprise: Almost everyone complied.

Over the course of six dining car meals as a solo traveler, I heard no political disagreements and met travelers from their 20s to their 80s.

Claudette Toth, a senior from Massachusetts, estimated that she’d only flown three or four times in her life. William Angus, a 24-year-old returning to Chicago from a pilgrimage to the San Diego Model Railroad Museum told of how much he loved running a 1/87 scale model of the Bakersfield-Mojave rail system, re-enacting operations from February 1953.

Ernie Haecker, of Sante Fe and New York, is a regular on Amtrak’s Southwest Chief train between Los Angeles and Chicago.

(Christopher Reynolds / Los Angeles Times)

As Angus spoke, Ernie Haecker, a longtime train lover, nodded in understanding, grinning beneath a handlebar mustache. Haecker, 77, an audiologist, told us he takes the train every six weeks, splitting time between Santa Fe and New York. After so many trips, he knows the crew, knows where the train will pause long enough for him to shave, knows he can count on chatting with “a whole panoply of folks every time.” He even knew the spot in Illinois where the train would switch from one old company’s tracks to another’s.

“We just left the old Santa Fe,” he would say when the moment came. “Now we’re on Burlington.”

My dinner on the first night was another happy surprise — a fairly tender and flavorful flat iron steak. There was a vase holding flowers at every table, along with white tablecloth.

A meal is served in the dining car.

(Christopher Reynolds / Los Angeles Times)

Still, nobody should expect a Michelin-star meal in an Amtrak dining car. It’s common for servers to bring out dessert before the main dish (to avoid running behind later) and at one meal, someone forgot my order and I had to start over half an hour later.

By the time we crossed into Arizona that first night, I was back in my roomette nodding off, lulled like a baby atop a washing machine.

We were near Flagstaff when I blinked awake, glad to catch sight of the sunrise and grateful to have a sleeping area of my own.

Arizona sprawl and the Amtrak class system

Roomettes measure about 23 square feet.

(Christopher Reynolds / Los Angeles Times)

Of the three ways you can travel long-distance on Amtrak, the fanciest option is a private room that’s about 50 square feet (including private bath). The cost — about $3,200 for a couple, one way, when I booked — includes meals in the dining cars. (Family rooms, which hold four people but share bathrooms, cost about the same. All rates fluctuate by season and demand.)

That was too pricey for me and my expense account, so I booked a roomette. The roomettes are about half the size of a private room, with dining-car access and upper and lower berths that allow two travelers to lie flat (or one to spread out). These share toilets and showers. This cost me $809. (For a couple, the tab would have been $1,112.)

The third option was coach class, which means sleeping in your seat. It’s a sensible choice if you’re traveling only a portion of the route, and it’s what I did when traveling this route as a college student 45 years ago.

I was intrigued to see that coach fares start at $198 — only a bit more than the starting price for a flight. But no, not intrigued enough.

As a coach passenger, you don’t get access to the dining car (unless there’s room and you’re willing to pay $20-$45 for a meal). Instead, you bring food, buy snacks in the cafe car below the Sightseer Lounge or, if truly desperate, try to arrange a restaurant delivery to an upcoming fresh-air stop.

Fortunately, all classes get access to the Sightseer Lounge, where armchairs and couches face big windows. I’ve heard of lounges getting pretty crowded and ripe on heavily booked trips, but our trained seemed less than half-full. A few coach passengers dozed in the lounge overnight (which is officially forbidden) and nobody seemed bothered.

That first morning, with coffee in hand, I tiptoed into the lounge, sank into an armchair and watched the desert sprawl while wispy clouds clung to the horizon under a brightening sky.

This postcard (or rather Instagram) moment came somewhere between Winslow and Holbrook. I’m told the scenery is more dramatic on the Coast Starlight (from Los Angeles to Seattle) and the California Zephyr (from Emeryville through the Rockies to Chicago). But this comes down to taste. If you like deserts, the Chief is hard to beat. (Though no matter the route, if you like photography, the train is a challenge: no open windows, so you’re always shooting exteriors through glass.)

As Arizona yielded to New Mexico, the dirt seemed to get redder and the ridges rose to form buttes. Along rivers and creeks, bright yellow cottonwood trees congregated in bursts of yellow. Occasionally we’d glimpse small towns and timeworn roadside attractions — a reminder that Old Route 66 basically follows Southwest Chief’s path between the West Coast and Albuquerque, N.M.

Amish in transit, elk at sunset

Travelers head toward seats at Chicago Union Station.

(Christopher Reynolds / Los Angeles Times)

“Living in L.A., you forget all this space,” said Kim Rinauro, a nurse from Los Feliz. “When you come out and see how vast this is, it really gives you a different perspective.”

“America is so ginormous,” said Jeanine Bass, a softball coach from Costa Mesa who was on her way to see family in upstate New York.

Meanwhile, one end of the observation car had been filled by several women in white bonnets, joined by men with straw hats, footlong beards and no mustaches. Occasionally I’d hear a sort of clapping sound. Amish families. Playing dominoes.

Amish travelers have been using this route for decades, one of the men told me, on their way to and from doctors in Tijuana. Seeking medical treatment that’s more affordable and easier to schedule than in the U.S., they take trains to Southern California, then continue overland across the border.

Just before we made a 45-minute stop at the station, which is surrounded by a grim neighborhood, an Amtrak staffer took the microphone to sternly address the coach-class travelers.

“Coaches: No alcohol,” she said. “If you bring alcohol, you can stay and spend all night here with the transients.” For those in rooms and roomettes, she continued, booze in private rooms is OK, but not in public spaces.

Farther into New Mexico, we passed the other Southwest Chief train, carrying passengers west.

Between Raton, N.M., and Trinidad, Colo., amid a gaudy sunset, we crept past a herd of elk, then plunged into a tunnel. Emerging, we caught a last bit of sunset, some of the most gorgeous miles of the trip.

Yet this, I learned later, is the part of the trip that Amtrak’s chief executive tried to replace with bus service in 2018. The effort failed and that executive is no longer in the job. But the battles in Washington over Amtrak funding and mission never end, which is why so many cars, like the Superliners on the Southwest Chief, were built between 1979 and 1996. Amtrak leaders have set a goal of replacing their older long-distance cars by 2032.

Speaking of hardware: Eventually I tried the shower. It didn’t go well. First, I saw that someone had stolen the shampoo dispenser. Then I couldn’t find a way to cool the scalding-hot water. I stood as far back as I could in the snug compartment and grimaced my way through it.

Missouri, Iowa and Illinois: The final miles

The concourse at Chicago Union Station is grand but quiet.

(Christopher Reynolds / Los Angeles Times)

On arrival day, I woke just as we reached the station in Kansas City, another gritty neighborhood along the tracks. Our news feeds were filled with fresh reports of nationwide flight delays because of the government shutdown.

Soon we were crossing the Missouri River, roaring through forest and skirting naked farmland where this year’s corn crop had just been cut. Then came Fort Madison, Iowa; the Mississippi River and the beginnings of Illinois. Water towers and grain elevators.

I zipped my bags shut, tipped the roomette attendant and dining car team. Soon I’d be stretching my legs at the Art Institute of Chicago, walking Millennium Park and along the Chicago River, checking out the skyline from Navy Pier.

We pulled into Union Station within an hour of our target time.

Was it a perfect trip? No. But it was full of humanity, scenery and comforting clangs and rumbles. I even liked the lurching way you had to walk down the corridors, adjusting balance as the train shifts. And then, to step off the train after two days into a brisk Chicago afternoon, 2,265 miles from home, having never left the ground? That’s almost magic.

Tracks dominate the view from the last car on the train.

(Christopher Reynolds / Los Angeles Times)

In the one-step forward, one-step back world Manchester United are living in just now, they took a stride in the right direction against Wolves at Molineux.

Whether it is significant or not remains to be seen.

After all, the big win at Crystal Palace nine days ago was followed by a dire draw against third-bottom West Ham.

Before that, a three-match winning run was followed by three games without a win, culminating in a home defeat by an Everton side reduced to 10 men after less than 15 minutes.

Monday night’s 4-1 drubbing of a hapless Wolves was United’s biggest win of the season, equalling a four-goal haul Ruben Amorim’s side have not bettered in the Premier League since he came to the club 13 months ago.

United had 27 shots, their most in a Premier League game under the Portuguese manager. They have now led in games for longer this season than they did in the entirety of the 2024-25 campaign.

Yet Amorim felt compelled to add a caveat, making reference to Wolves’ lack of points on the pitch and mutinous atmosphere off it.

“This is a specific case,” he said. “We faced a team that is really, really struggling.

“You can sense it in every situation of the game.

“This moment for Wolves is really hard, as a team and as a club. We took advantage of that.”

It is why Amorim felt United were in danger of blowing a significant chance to climb into the top six and on the coattails of the sides in contention for Champions League qualification.

New Wolves boss Rob Edwards felt his side played the way he wanted in the final 15 minutes of the opening period. That included scoring their first goal in 540 minutes through Jean-Ricner Bellegarde.

It wasn’t the script Amorim envisaged. Certainly not one he wanted on a night when Sir Jim Ratcliffe had come to watch and was pictured in animated conversation with director of football Jason Wilcox in the directors’ box.

He told his players this before he left to sit in the visitors’ dugout alone with his thoughts before United re-appeared for the start of the second half.

“We should have finished that half in the different way,” he said. “At half-time, they understood we have everything to win the game.

“If you need to be really distracted, when you look at Everton, that was three points. We could have had two more points against West Ham. Look at the table. Look at the environment. Look at everything.

“We needed to win the second half. It didn’t matter the result.”

Analysing the game for Sky Sports, Jamie Carragher praised the performance but said: “We make the assumption there is a bad result around the corner.”

He is not on his own with that opinion. United have still kept only one clean sheet in the Premier League, against Sunderland at Old Trafford on 4 October. Are they on one defeat in nine, or two wins in six?

After failing to take opportunities to go second, twice, and fifth, they are now sixth. If results go their way, they could be fourth once they have played Bournemouth on 15 December. Equally they could be back in the bottom half of the table.

Andoni Iraola’s men have taken two points from their past six games but they have won 3-0 on each of their past two visits to Old Trafford.

Nothing is for certain at Manchester United these days it seems, and that includes the availability of their players.

Amorim had thought Netherlands international Matthijs de Ligt would be available for Monday’s game after missing the West Ham match with a minor injury. He was wrong. Now the manager says he can’t be sure when De Ligt will be fit.

United remain in talks with the respective national associations of Morocco, Ivory Coast and Cameroon, which Amorim says is a “good sign” but says he “doesn’t know” if Noussair Mazraoui, Amad Diallo and Bryan Mbeumo will be cleared to play against Bournemouth before they leave for Africa Cup of Nations duty.

“Let’s wait for the middle of the week,” said Amorim.

Asked what moving into sixth place means, he added: “Nothing. It’s always the same feeling. We should have more points. But that’s in the past, let’s focus on the future.”

Two years ago, at Jason Woliner’s birthday party, there was a strange guest in attendance. Mysterious, wise, uncanny — it was an animatronic robot cowboy named Dale. In the years prior, Woliner had become transfixed by immersive theater and animatronics, prompting him to purchase Dale. Woliner’s obsession with him became akin to Frankenstein and his monster.

Dale’s presence was a triumph. Using a complex software system, Woliner made the animatronic conversational. “I set him up in my garage. People came in and asked him questions, and he gave advice on relationships,” Woliner says.

A disquieting collection of animatronics became fixtures in the director’s life. More encounters ensued. Dale hosted an event at the Dynasty Typewriter theater in place of Woliner. Later, another one of his animatronics had campfire-side chats with audiences at the Overlook Film Festival in New Orleans. Woliner’s creative partner of 15 years, Eric Notarnicola, joined the endeavor as well.

Notarnicola and Woliner, known for comedy projects like “Nathan for You,” “The Rehearsal,” “Paul T. Goldman” and “Borat Subsequent Moviefilm,” found that animatronics aligned with their body of work — absurd, amusing and occasionally devastating explorations of truth and vulnerability.

Dale — now better known as “the man” — this month will host guests at the Velaslavasay Panorama in a show called “The Man in the Tuskhut.” The Nova Tuskhut is a space within the venue designed like an Arctic trading post. For the show, attendees have a one-on-one encounter with the man in the Tuskhut. That’s after watching a documentary about frontiersman Henry James Entrikin, enjoying a drink at a saloon and grilling hot dogs.

“We started experimenting with this weird, interactive, intimate conversation with an animatronic and building it into a story that is surprising and maybe funny and maybe unsettling — something that leaves you with an unusual experience,” Woliner says.

From left to right, Ruby Carlson Bedirian, Eric Notarnicola and Jason Woliner, who collaborated on “The Man in the Tuskhut,” stand behind the saloon with animatronic skeletons.

(Carlin Stiehl / For The Times)

The animatronic improvises in conversation based on a story outline written by Woliner and Notarnicola. Inside the Tuskhut, the animatronic spurs surprising encounters with guests, Notarnicola says. “Some people come in and play a character. If they’re interested in role-playing, then they get to do that. Other people play it a lot more straight,” he says.

The buzzy show, not advertised on social media, has been gaining popularity through word of mouth. “We haven’t spent a penny on marketing,” says Woliner. The collaborators have sold out 200 encounters with the animatronic, hosting 20 encounters per day.

In the Ken Burns–style sepia-stained historical documentary, visitors learn that the man was killed by “Arctic cold that was both his companion and his adversary.” His travels include encounters with Inuit people, snow blindness and a stinging need for solitude that leads him to abandon his family for a life in the Arctic trading post. The documentary echoes the protagonists of Jack London novels — men up against the wild, grappling for survival — a trope Woliner enjoys.

“We’ve done a few things with those kinds of lonesome, filthy men,” Woliner says with a laugh.

Once inside the Tuskhut, visitors sit across from the man in a dimly lighted room. Hooks line the walls. Medicine cabinets collect dust on bookshelves — ones with “remedies for ailments, some imagined, some real.” Later, the man muses: “Real medicine is having something to believe in.” A radio buzzes in the background with static and news of “that Hitler fella,” as the man says. The bizarre encounter is different for each visitor who sits in his haunting gaze.

“Some people have had experiences that seem similar to going to a confessional or to a therapy session because some of the prompts and questions are open,” says Sara Velas, founder of the Velaslavasay Panorama and collaborator on the project. “People say: ‘I hadn’t heard someone talk to me in that tone of voice since my grandfather was alive.’ It’s a framework with many different outcomes, and it has been really special to observe.”

From left to right, Jason Woliner, Ruby Carlson Bedirian and Eric Notarnicola next to an animatronic skeleton.

(Carlin Stiehl / For The Times)

Notarnicola says the scope of animatronic entertainment technology is far-reaching across language and culture. “We’re able to run the experience in over 30 different languages. We’ve run the experience in Spanish, Slovak, Polish and Chinese,” he says. “It removes this boundary of communication where anyone, anywhere can experience it and communicate.”

Ruby Carlson Bedirian, head of engineering and enrichment at the theater and collaborator, says many visitors try to stump the animatronic or break it. “Many of the people coming are, proportionally, insiders — they’re interested in this form,” Carlson Bedirian says. “There have been so many artists and technicians and specialized artisans who have had really amazing interactions.”

The animatronic had a storied history before joining Woliner and Notarnicola’s world. As they discovered, the robot was manufactured as part of a U.S. military operation. It was used in an immersive training facility at Camp Pendleton to prepare soldiers for the war in Afghanistan. By a bizarre twist of fate, it ended up in the filmmakers’ possession through eBay, after a man named Juju kept the animatronic in his living room in Florida.

“We found them through Reddit — there’s an animatronics-for-sale Reddit — and a guy had posted that he was trying to unload them,” Woliner says. Woliner spends time on the animatronic Reddit alongside Disneyland and Chuck E. Cheese enthusiasts.

One of the animatronics even appeared in the most recent season of “The Rehearsal.” “We’re trying to use them for good,” Woliner says.

For Woliner and Notarnicola, “The Man in the Tuskhut” is only the beginning of their venture with animatronics. “We have other shows in development, and other things we want to do that are bigger — multiple characters. This is just the beginning of where this form of interaction and entertainment is headed,” Notarnicola says. The creative duo recently launched Incident, a new experimental entertainment company dedicated to these otherworldly projects.

Woliner is enthusiastic about being part of a growing community of interactive experiences in Los Angeles. “I’m most excited about being part of the offbeat L.A. community,” he says.